“Did DJ tell you?” Casey demanded.
“No.” Taylor’s voice was firm. “She never said a word.”
“Oh.”
“Honest,” DJ assured Casey. “I didn’t.”
“So, cut to the chase, Taylor.” Casey looked up with sad, red-rimmed eyes. “You said you could help.”
“I’ll be right back,” Taylor promised, then took off.
“You swear you didn’t tell her?” Casey challenged.
“I swear.” DJ held up her hand. “As God is my witness, I did not tell her.”
“I guess it figures that Taylor’s got a nose for trouble.”
DJ couldn’t help but laugh. And before long, Taylor returned with soda crackers and milk. “Just take a tiny bite of cracker, chew it thoroughly, then one tiny sip of milk.”
Casey made a face, but cooperated. It took awhile for her to get a couple of crackers and half a glass of milk down, but at least she wasn’t hugging the toilet. And eventually it seemed like it was working. No more dry heaves.
Casey stood up, but still looked shaky. “Thanks, Taylor.”
“I think you should get into bed,” DJ said as she helped to brace her.
“I’ll grab the waste can just in case you feel like you’re going to hurl,” Taylor said as she followed.
They helped Casey into bed. Then Taylor set the crackers and milk on the bedside table, and DJ put a cool damp cloth over her forehead.
“Taylor?” whispered Casey.
“Yeah?”
“Please don’t tell.”
“I won’t.”
“You can trust her,” DJ promised Casey. “She won’t.”
“Thanks.”
“You get some rest,” Taylor said kindly. “And we better get up to modeling practice before Mrs. Carter sends out a search crew.”
As Taylor and DJ hurried upstairs to join the others, DJ wished she could tell Grandmother what was up. But she knew she couldn’t break her promise to Casey. Still, it would be comforting to have an adult in this loop. Even if it was a loopy adult like her grandmother.
“
IT’S NICE TO SEE THAT YOU GIRLS COULD
finally make it,” Miss Walford announced loudly as DJ and Taylor slinked into the room. She reached over to turn off the music, then placed both hands on her hips and faced them with a dour expression. “I’m not sure how Mrs. Carter feels about tardiness, but it is one of my pet peeves. My time is valuable and right now I’m donating my free time, which makes it even more valuable. I don’t appreciate you girls wasting it.”
“I’m sorry,” DJ began, “but Casey was really—”
“Rhiannon made your excuses.” Miss Walford’s tone was skeptical. “But unless it was a serious medical emergency—and I didn’t hear any ambulances arrive—I hardly think it was necessary for both of you to stay with her.”
DJ glanced around for Grandmother, but didn’t see her.
“Shall we assume that Casey is all right?”
“She’s resting,” Taylor said crisply.
“Oh, good. So perhaps you’re ready to join us now?”
“Of course.”
“Get in line,” Miss Walford commanded. “And I mean the end of the line, girls.”
Some of the others, including Madison and Tina, snickered as Taylor and DJ went to the end of the line.
Taylor tossed DJ a nonchalant glance, and DJ rolled her eyes as if to say “Whatever.” But as they practiced, it was clear that Miss Walford’s battle lines were drawn. DJ and Taylor had definitely made her black list and, judging by her snide comments and criticisms, it wasn’t going to change anytime soon. DJ wondered what Grandmother would say about this—or if she’d even find out. Not that DJ cared particularly. It was Miss Walford’s choice to act like a spoiled brat. And maybe that helped to explain why girls like Madison and Tina acted the way they did. Maybe they were just imitating their dance team coach.
With only one week left, Eliza grew even more determined to win votes for prom queen. DJ wondered if it was Eliza’s way of making up for not being accepted to Yale or if it was something more. Because, although DJ hadn’t been paying really close attention, Eliza seemed different. Like she was supercharged or taking enhancement drugs (like an athlete on steroids), or had simply been drinking too much coffee. But it was like the girl never slowed down or ran out of energy. Eliza never seemed to stop. Kind of like that obnoxious pink Energizer Bunny, Eliza never stopped moving and talking and smiling. Not only that, but she suddenly seemed very helpful and concerned about everyone and anyone. DJ wasn’t sure if it was sincere or just more campaigning. It felt as if winning prom queen was the most important triumph in the universe.
Even so, DJ kept her promise and campaigned for her. Sure, it was a little halfhearted. But it was hard to feign enthusiasm for handing out silly pink buttons, T-shirts, and chocolates. Besides that, she wondered who really cared. Other than snarfing down free chocolate, it seemed pretty pointless. And yet DJ was
occasionally surprised that some of her friends took her endorsement for Eliza seriously.
“She’s really changed, hasn’t she?” Monica Bradford said to DJ as she pinned a button to the collar of her denim jacket.
“Hopefully we all change,” DJ said lightly. “I mean, as in growing up.”
“Anyway, Eliza seems a lot nicer now than she was at the beginning of the year.” Monica lowered her voice. “She was such a snob then. But now she smiles and says hi to everyone.”
DJ nodded. “She’s definitely gotten friendlier.” Of course, DJ still suspected Eliza’s goodwill was only skin deep, an effort to win votes, but who was she to judge? Maybe Eliza really had changed. No one could deny that she’d been different since Palm Beach.
“Well, she’s got my vote,” Monica assured DJ.
“Thanks!”
“I
was
going to vote for Haley Callahan.”
“Oh…” DJ wasn’t sure she wanted to go there. Despite the rough history she’d had with Monica and Haley back during swim team season, Haley was a friend now.
“But Haley has changed. It’s like she’s all stuck-up now.”
“Really?” DJ frowned. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Probably because she’s nice to you. But she’s picky about who she’s nice to. Not like you.” Monica picked up a Queen Eliza bumper sticker. “And not like Eliza.”
“Well, I know Eliza will appreciate your support,” DJ told Monica. In fact, Eliza would be relieved to know that she’d just gotten what could’ve been a Haley vote. Eliza was certain that Haley was her biggest competition in the race for the crown. Oh, Madison had her friends, but she had her enemies too. Mostly Eliza had been concerned about the three-way split on votes. And just last night, she’d actually been trying to think of a way to buy out Haley.
“You can’t do that,” DJ had told Eliza after she’d disclosed her latest campaign strategy. She wanted to get her dad to contribute money to Haley’s college fund in exchange for Haley dropping out of the race.
“Why not?” Eliza had looked honestly surprised. “I thought Haley would appreciate some tuition money.”
“Because that’s like
buying
your crown,” DJ had told her.
“So?” Eliza had shrugged. “That’s how politicians get elected.”
DJ had just rolled her eyes. “Look, Eliza, it’ll be a lot more rewarding if you win the election fair and square.”
Fortunately, Eliza had seemed to get this. Or mostly. “Okay, DJ, but you better keep helping me.”
And that was why DJ was stuck at the campaign table throughout the lunch hour today. Conner had felt sorry for her and was coming back to sit with her after he grabbed them both some tacos. DJ turned, thinking that he was tapping on her shoulder. But it was Rhiannon and she looked worried.
“We have a problem!” she hissed.
“What?”
“Casey…” Rhiannon glanced around as if to be sure no one was eavesdropping.
“What about Casey?” DJ felt worried. As far as she knew, Rhiannon was still in the dark about Casey’s pregnancy, but what if Casey was sick again?
“Casey just told me that someone made a MySpace page about Eliza.”
“Oh.” DJ felt a small wave of relief. “So what’s the problem?”
“Remember when Casey slandered Taylor online last fall?”
“Oh no.” DJ’s hand flew to her mouth. “Did Casey do it again? Please, tell me she didn’t. She cannot possibly be that—”
“No, no—that’s not it. Casey just happened to find it during her graphic design class. And now it seems that everyone is finding it. Casey is actually trying to get the thing shut down, but apparently that’s not so easy.”
“What’s on the page?”
“It’s about Palm Beach.”
“Palm Beach?”
“It’s this overblown story about how Eliza hooked up with this criminal boyfriend in order to fake her own kidnapping so that she could extort money from her family’s fortune. But it’s really bad, and there are some skanky photos of Eliza that must’ve been done through Photoshop.”
DJ tipped her head back and moaned.
“Should we do something?”
“Does Eliza know about it yet?” DJ glanced over to where Eliza was smiling and shaking hands with “fans,” totally oblivious to the storm that was brewing.
“Doesn’t look like it.”
Just then DJ noticed a fringe of onlookers who were quietly pointing toward Eliza and snickering like they were in on the secret joke. “It’s just a matter of time.”
“What do we do?”
DJ thought for a moment. What did they do last time this happened? “Damage control.” She stood up. “You go to administration and tell them what’s going on and see if they can help. I’ll give Eliza a heads-up.”
“Right.”
DJ hurried over to where Eliza was handing goodie bags to some freshman girls with starry eyes. “Eliza,” DJ said quietly.
“Just a minute, please,” Eliza said sweetly. “And you girls don’t forget to vote on Friday. Who knows, maybe it’ll be one of you in a few years.” The girls giggled and moved on.
“Eliza, you
need
to listen to me,” DJ said urgently. “Something’s wrong.”
Eliza’s turned to face DJ. “What?”
DJ whispered the news about the MySpace page, watching as Eliza’s smile faded.
“Seriously?” Eliza’s blue eyes grew concerned. “Have you seen it?”
“I didn’t, but Casey—”
“Did Casey do this?”
“No, of course not. She’s the one who told Rhiannon to tell me. In fact, I think she’s doing what she can to shut the thing down. And Rhiannon went to the administration office to tell them. I just thought you should know.”
Eliza turned around and grabbed her oversized Versace bag. Slipping out her slender laptop, she popped it open, did a quick search, and found the page. DJ watched over her shoulder. The page really was sick. DJ felt a mixture of anger and disgust. Then she noticed that Eliza’s face was pale and her hands were trembling. She snapped her computer shut and struggled to shove it back into her bag. “Will you walk with me to my car, DJ?”
“Of course.” But as DJ escorted her out of the cafeteria, she noticed that Eliza seemed to be weaving, almost as if she were intoxicated.
“Are you okay?” DJ asked. When Eliza didn’t answer, DJ grasped her elbow and, instead of walking her to the parking lot, DJ turned toward the counseling center and went directly to Mrs. Seibert’s office.
“Hello, girls.” The counselor looked up from a bag lunch on her desk. “To what do I owe this—”
“It’s Eliza, Mrs. Seibert.” DJ spoke quickly as she eased Eliza into a chair, where she slumped forward like a rag doll. “I think she needs help.”
Mrs. Seibert blinked, then looked from one girl to the next. “What’s wrong? Does she need medical treatment?”
DJ didn’t know how much to say, so she quickly launched into the story of the MySpace page.
“Oh, is that what Mr. Van Duyn is working on? I heard we have another Internet scandal going on. So juvenile.”
DJ nodded. “Yeah. But there’s a little more to it than that.” She put her hand on Eliza’s shoulder. “Do you mind if I tell her about Palm Beach, Eliza? I mean, she’s a counselor, so you know she’ll keep it confidential.”
“I…don’t…care…” Eliza’s voice was weak.
So DJ sat down and, as gently as possible, told Mrs. Seibert about the kidnapping that had happened in Palm Beach, as well as how her grandmother had asked for the girls not to talk about it. “So it’s just been kind of swept under the rug…until today.”
“Oh, my goodness!” Mrs. Seibert’s eyebrows arched high. “What a horror story. Poor Eliza. No wonder she’s upset.”
“And it seems like Eliza should’ve been to a shrink or something,” DJ continued. “In fact, that’s what a counselor told us in Palm Beach. But that hasn’t happened.”
Mrs. Seibert shook her head sadly. “DJ, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to talk to Eliza privately.”
“No problem.” DJ stood quickly, eager to get out of there. “Thanks.” As she walked back to the cafeteria, she prayed for Eliza. And she prayed that Mrs. Seibert would have some good advice and some good resources.
“Hey, what happened to you?” Conner asked when she rejoined him at the campaign table.
“You mean you didn’t hear yet?”
He shook his head and she filled him in.
“Man.” He slapped down the neatly stacked bumper stickers with a loud smack. “I cannot believe what some girls
will do. Seriously, DJ, I don’t think guys would do something like that.”
“Most girls wouldn’t either.”
“Yeah…you’re probably right.”
“Anyway it really hit a nerve with Eliza. She just kind of unraveled and fell apart.”
“Is she going to be okay?”
“She’s with the counselor now. And that’s probably a good thing.”
“So now we’ll really have to do some top-notch campaigning.” Conner waved to a couple of his soccer buddies. “Come on over here,” he called. And before they could protest, Conner was pinning pink buttons onto their shirts. “Eliza Wilton really needs your support,” he told them in a serious tone, “more than ever now.”
“Was that MySpace page stuff true?” one of the guys asked DJ. She thought his name was James.
“No way.” DJ firmly shook her head. “It was just some lowlife’s attempt to smear Eliza’s name. And it was downright mean. She’s really hurting because of it.”
“Too bad.” James looked exasperated. “Well, Eliza’s got my vote now.”
DJ felt a slight glimmer of hope. Maybe this scam plan would backfire. Maybe it would invoke sympathy for Eliza. Still, DJ wondered who had done it. Madison seemed the strongest suspect. And yet, Haley had done something similar to DJ last year, using her cell phone to send mean messages. So who knew? And maybe it didn’t really matter. Maybe it would actually provide the catalyst for Eliza to get some help. And DJ felt certain that Eliza needed help.