Wanted

23 HURTS SO GOOD

The enormous Valentine’s Day dance tent was overflowing with people by the time Emily arrived. Heat lamps were set up along the walls, making the room feel cozy but not stuffy, and a DJ in a red velvet jacket bopped on the stage, mixing a Fergie song into something by Lil Wayne. Mason Byers was swinging Lanie Iler around, Big Band–era style. Nicole Hudson and Kelly Hamilton, Naomi and Riley’s on-and-off sophomore toadies, were glaring at each other, annoyed because they’d both worn the same ruffled red gown. A couple of sheets of paper lay on the floor, big shoe marks over them. Emily picked one up. It seemed like a love letter to Sean Ackard. It was signed Kate Randall.

Emily straightened the pale pink dress Ali suggested Emily buy from BCBG. She’d gone all out for tonight, blow-drying her hair so that it was sleek and straight, borrowing Carolyn’s foundation, blush, and bronzer to make her skin look glowing and sparkly. She’d forced her flat, flipper-like swimmer’s feet into a pair of red Mary Janes she’d worn only once to a sports banquet. Emily wanted Ali to be dazzled by the sight of her.

A knot of kids gyrated on the dance floor. Andrew Campbell spun Spencer around, their hands entwined. Hanna had her arms in the air and was doing a slinky, sexy dance Emily could never pull off. The girl next to her was dressed in a gorgeous, lacy red gown, her hair piled seductively on her head. Ali. Then she noticed James Freed standing behind Ali, snaking his hands along her hips, up her waist, and dangerously close to her boobs.

It took Emily a couple of seconds to realize what was happening. Her heart lurched. But by the time she’d marched over to the circle, James had peeled off and started dancing on his own, doing a faux Justin Timberlake move that involved spinning on one heel.

“Hey,” Emily said in Ali’s ear.

Ali opened her eyes. “Hey, Em!” She kept dancing.

Emily paused, waiting. Surely Ali would do a double take. Certainly she’d blurt out, Oh my God, you look incredible! But now Ali was whispering something to Hanna. Hanna threw her auburn head back and cackled.

“For all you Valentines out there,” crooned the DJ as a slow, bluesy John Mayer song came on. Spencer hugged Andrew’s waist. Hanna danced with Mason Byers. Emily stared meaningfully at Ali’s back, but Ali still didn’t turn around. She fell into James’s arms as if they’d been a couple for years. They began rocking back and forth to the music.

A couple bumped into Emily from behind. She staggered to the side of the dance floor. Ali had said she…the other day at her house…I meant what I said about how I feel about you. A cold sweat crept down Emily’s neck. Did Ali mean it…or didn’t she?

Couples were disappearing into a smaller tent that said TUNNEL OF LUV toward the back. Rosewood Day had trotted out the creaky ride since Emily was in fifth grade, renting it from a local carnival supply company. The ride had about ten plastic swans, big enough for two people. The swans were so old that their yellow beaks were now a jaundiced tan, and much of the paint on their white bodies had flaked off entirely.

The slow song droned on for another agonizing three minutes. When it ended, Ali and James broke apart, laughing softly. Emily leaped into their path and caught Ali’s arm. “I need to talk to you.”

Ali smiled. The disco light reflected off her shimmery eye shadow. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Alone.”

Emily dragged her through the exit that led into the school and turned left to the girls’ room. All the stall doors were flung open, and the room smelled like a phantom mix of various perfumes and makeup. Ali leaned over the sink, inspecting her mascara.

“Why are you being like this?” Emily blurted before she’d fully planned what she was going to say.

Ali cocked her head, meeting Emily’s eyes in the mirror. “Like what?”

“You’re ignoring me.”

“No, I’m not!”

Emily slapped her sides. “Ali, yes, you are.”

The corners of Ali’s mouth turned down. She put a finger to her lips. “Call me Courtney, remember?”

“Fine. Courtney.”

Emily whirled around and faced the automatic hand dryer, staring at her warped reflection in the metal. It was like they’d taken ten steps backward. Emily’s limbs started to quake. Her stomach churned. Her skin felt like it was under a hot broiler.

She turned around to face Ali again. “You know, friends don’t jerk friends around. Friends don’t give each other mixed messages. And…and I don’t think I can handle being friends if things are going to be the same as they were before.”

Ali looked shocked. “I don’t want things to be the same. I want them to be better.”

“They aren’t better!” Wet, sweaty patches bloomed under the arms of Emily’s brand-new pink dress. “They’re worse!”

Ali sunk into one hip. A defeated look crossed her face. “Nothing is good enough for you, Em,” she said wearily, her shoulders sinking.

“Ali,” Emily whispered. “I’m sorry.” She reached out and touched Ali’s arm, but Ali bristled and shook her off.

But then Ali turned back, her arms hanging limply at her sides. Ever so slowly, Ali took a step toward Emily. Her lips quivered. The corners of her eyes were wet. They stared at each other for a static-filled moment, Emily barely breathing. And then, Ali yanked Emily into an empty stall and pressed their bodies close. They kissed and kissed, the world melting away, the music from the dance subsiding until it was a dull echo. After a moment, they pulled back, breathless. Emily stared at Ali’s shiny eyes.

“What was that for?” she asked.

Ali reached out and touched the tip of Emily’s nose. “I’m sorry, too,” she whispered.