28

EVE

Makeup covered his face: bright pink lips, eye shadow up to his eyebrows, mascara lazily smudged all around his eyes, and buckets of blush. Up close, Eve could see permanent marker drawn all over the roots of the messy blond wig. His clothing was reminiscent of Sophie’s—a red tank top, tight jeans—but he’d attached an enormous price tag to it that read 50¢. Around his neck hung a small poster board with a hastily scribbled #2 on it.

And he wouldn’t stop talking, his voice nasal and falsetto.

“OMG, my dad hasn’t paid child support in foreeever. But that’s probably because he’s, like, in jail or whatever.”

Eve’s stomach lurched. She thought she might throw up.

Instinctively, Eve moved toward Sophie as Sophie croaked: “He is not! Stop it!”

“Seriously, like totally, I’m, like, white trash, like yeah.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“OMG, gotta go wash the fleas out of my clothes!”

Sophie leaned over, her hands on her knees, unable to catch her breath.

Eve reached for her and held her up. “It’s okay, Sophie, it’s okay.”

Mr. Flynn came toward them, yelling, “Hey, Brody! Hey!” The music had abruptly stopped.

“What is wrong with you!?” Eve screeched at Brody.

Everything Nessa had said about him had been true. His kind smile had meant nothing. He was as bad as they all claimed. How could she have thought any different for even an instant?

At Eve’s words, Brody stopped the performance. “Ha. What? It’s a joke.” He put out a hand to Eve, as if she’d ever come near him again.

Couldn’t he see she was literally holding up Sophie? That his little act had forced Sophie to buckle over?

Brody wore a laugh on his face, like he thought everyone else would laugh, too. And most did. Out of the corner of her eye, in the haze of her disgust, Eve spotted some of Brody’s guy friends chuckling into their palms.

“You’re disgusting!” Eve spat out as Sophie held tightly on to her arm, trying to keep her balance.

“Of course he’s disgusting. He’s dressed up as Sophie!” she heard Caleb say behind her. “So sensitive, geez!”

“Shut up!” another guy yelled from somewhere.

“Come here,” Brody insisted, putting a palm out to Eve once again.

“Don’t touch me!” Eve held her hand tight against her body in a fist.

The other day, when he’d called Sophie crazy, it had been a sign of some awfulness inside him. She knew she should’ve said something to him. Maybe because she hadn’t said anything, he’d thought it was okay to do what he had done. Why hadn’t she said something?

“Hey!” Mr. Flynn hollered as he continued to make his way through the crowd.

Brody moved toward Eve and touched her fist, trying to pull it to him.

“I said don’t touch me!”

Seemingly out of nowhere, Winston Byrd shot out of the crowd and pushed Brody with all his might. “She said don’t touch her! Stop!”