Read Homecoming Masquerade, The for Free Online

answer. Pauline Wabash, Amy Thayer, Rosalyn
Smith, and Andrea Peterson, four girls Kim allowed to hang on her like a cloud
of dirt, four daughters of families who pledged their loyalty to Kim’s parents
many years ago, and not a one of them knew what was going on.
    Useless. All of them, useless.
The girls, the lawyers, the consultants, the private investigators, the accountants,
the stylists, the designers, the models, hell, even the student interns. More
than a decade of planning to get Kim into the ballroom as one of three girls
wearing black. Useless!
    Not four girls wearing black.
Kim was to be one of three, dammit. Kim, the winner. Mary, the girl who only
wanted to come in second. Samantha, the girl so desperate for attention she’d
enter the contest knowing she would probably die in the end.
    And then she showed up.
Nicky Bloom. The name rang in Kim’s ears and bounced off her tongue. She
whispered it to herself over and over again, listening to the words clatter
like a rumbling train. Nicky Bloom Nicky Bloom Nicky Bloom Nicky Bloom Nicky
Bloom. What in God’s name was Nicky Bloom doing? Who just walks into the
Homecoming ball at Thorndike Academy, having been at school barely two weeks,
knowing no one at all, and wears a black dress?
    “Who does that?” Kim said. “Who
does she think she is? Who does she know?”
    “She doesn’t know anybody,” said
Pauline. “Her family just moved to DC this summer.”
    “She knows someone,” said Kim.
“It’s a conspiracy. A goddamned conspiracy.”
    “What a stupid bitch,” said
Andrea.
    The other girls giggled but Kim
remained solemn. It would be a comfort to think that Nicky Bloom was some crazy
renegade who didn’t know what she was doing, but that wasn’t the case. Kim
could tell from that little confrontation in the center of the ballroom. Nicky
had looked Kim in the eyes without any fear and said Fuck You. It was the way
she said it—there was no bluff in her voice at all. She was inviting Kim to
retaliate.
    Nobody did that to Kim. Nobody
did that to any of the Renwicks, which was precisely why Kim had lost her
temper, making a fool of herself in the process.
    Nicky Bloom totally played her.
She caught Kim by surprise and made her look weak in front of everyone. Then
she walked away, knowing full well there was nothing Kim could do about it.
    And the way she walked. She
moved with the sort of regal confidence that the mothers of every girl at this
party tried to teach their daughters. It was something you either had or you
didn’t. You can train a girl to glide across the floor with a book on her head,
but you can’t train her to move the way Nicky Bloom did. That girl walked like
a winner, and people noticed.
    Nicky was wearing a vintage
Francesco dress, the sort that was all over the Paris runway in the late
sixties. It was the kind of look Kim wanted for herself. Vintage. Classy.
    The god-damned stylists had told
her not to do it.
    “You’re not a throwback,
Honey,” her stylist had said. “You’re cutting edge.”
    And while it was undeniable that
Kim looked outstanding in her ultra-modern see-through print, she couldn’t help
but wonder if the immortals would prefer the more classic style of Nicky’s
outfit. Especially Sergio. Tonight was the only chance any of them got to be in
front of Sergio. If anyone at the party sensed that Sergio had taken a liking
to Nicky rather than Kim....forget it.
    The more Kim looked at her, the
angrier she became. Nicky had a weathered look about her that matched her
style. Freckles on her arms, a cream-colored sheen to her legs, a hardness to
her body.
    Whereas Kim was the product of a
daily regimen at the gym, Nicky looked more like a girl who liked to play
outdoors. She looked rugged. She looked real.
    No, Nicky Bloom wasn’t a stupid
bitch at all. She was just as prepared for this contest as Kim. She’d been
preparing for it for years, in secret. She was a ringer brought in specifically
to ruin Kim’s