The Allegra Biscotti Collection

“Not really…well, sort of, I guess.” Emma quickly told her about the soccer-ball incident, as she adjusted the layered shirts on Holly’s body, scrunching up the sleeves of the long-sleeved tee.

“So did you guys talk?” Holly asked, her eyes glinting with anticipation.

“No…” Emma could see Holly frown slightly in the mirror, probably disappointed that there wasn’t more to the story. “But, um, I have these sketches. I mean, after I saw the team in those tacky polyester uniforms, I kind of reimagined them, made them sleeker.”

Holly whirled around. “Do you have them with you? Let me see!”

Emma pulled her sketchbook out of her bag and flipped to the page.

Holly gasped and pointed to the face of the male figure wearing Emma’s design. “Is that Jackson? ”

Oh, no! Before Emma could grab the book away, Holly turned to the next page. It was covered with a half- dozen close-up sketches of Jackson’s face. Emma suddenly felt like someone had just laid a steaming hot washcloth over her own face.

“These are really good, Em,” Holly said sincerely. “These sketches look exactly like him. You’re such a good artist. I’m so jealous. I can barely read my own handwriting, much less draw beautiful things.”

“You think so?” Emma asked. “Well, actually, there’s something else going on that’s really cool—” Emma began. But just at that moment, there was a loud knock on the dressing-room door. Emma grabbed back her sketchbook and shoved it deep in her bag.

“Come on, you guys!” Kayla called. “Fashion show is starting.”

“Shoot! We’re not done dressing you! Here, put this on,” Emma instructed, handing Holly the gray mohair sweater. Then Emma grabbed three of the skinny belts—two she wrapped around Holly’s waist, and the other she wound around her wrist multiple times as a makeshift cuff bracelet.

“Hmmm. Not perfect but good. Now all you have to do is make it down the ‘runway’ in these silver shoes. I’ll see you out there. Good luck!”

Emma gave Holly a quick hug and then flung open the dressing-room door to join the other girls on the couch.

First up was Lexie, who shimmied down the hallway of the dressing room. She stopped in front of the girls and twirled, her long, dark hair fanning out in a circle, as she watched herself in the mirror. Emma could tell that Ivana had gone right to the high-priced designer section of the store and just picked the prettiest cocktail dress she saw—probably one that was already on a mannequin.

There was no denying that the strapless plum-colored satin dress looked gorgeous on Lexie. It had a flirty bustle in the back and a subtle sprinkling of crystals on the bodice, which pushed up Lexie’s boobs. Definitely flattering, but it wasn’t exactly imaginative. Lexie just looked like she was a well-dressed guest at some stuffy uptown hotel wedding.

Picking out a pretty dress and a rhinestone-encrusted evening purse wasn’t exactly what Emma thought they were supposed to do. Where was the creativity in that?

Shannon and Kayla practically drooled over Ivana’s outfit.

“Ivana, you have amazing taste!” Kayla gushed.Shannon popped up from the couch to check out the price tag hanging from the back of Lexie’s dress. “And expensive taste! I love it!”Holly sashayed down the carpeted hall in her too-tight heels and then did the model-posing-at-the-end-of-the-catwalk thing—hand on right hip, hand on left hip—and then spun and walked back a few steps to end in a pretty pose. The pink sequins on her skirt glinted and sparkled. Emma knew that Holly was probably just goofing, but she definitely had what it took to be a real runway model.Emma peeked at the judging panel. They stared blankly at Holly’s outfit.“I don’t think those colors match,” Kayla finally said with a frown.

“Colors don’t always have to match as long as they go together,” Emma explained. “See how the navy and pink work together? And the gray of the sweater plays off the silver studs on the belts and in the shoes?”

Kayla only shrugged.

“It seems weird to wear a big fuzzy sweater over a sequined skirt,” Shannon said.

“I don’t think so,” Holly said. “Emma was just trying to mix different textures—right, Em? I think it’s really fun.”

Emma sank back into the couch. Holly could see what Emma was going for—or at least she was pretending to—so why didn’t the other girls get it? Didn’t they get that wearing clothes could be an art? How you could totally personalize clothes, even with things that weren’t one of a kind, and could keep mixing things up endlessly to make them your own? That was the fun part!

“I know I’m not really supposed to talk or anything because I’m not one of the judges,” Ivana said, so obviously about to break her own rule, “but Holls, let me just ask you. If you were invited to the hottest party of the year, would you pick Emma’s outfit over the one I chose?”

“Um…I…uh,” Holly stalled. “Well, it depends what kind of party it was, you know? This outfit might not be right for all occasions, but it could work for some things. Your outfit could kind of go anywhere.”

Holly’s eyes darted nervously to Emma’s. Emma thought that Holly looked like a contestant on American Idol who had completely forgotten the lyrics. Emma actually felt bad for Holly, because Ivana had put her in a seriously lose-lose position. But she couldn’t help but feel worse for herself since her best friend had just dissed her outfit to suck up to Ivana.

“You know, Emma really is a great designer with, like, totally natural talent,” Holly said. “She can design anything. She just drew new soccer uniforms for the school team. Came up with the idea out of nowhere. You should see her sketches of Jackson wearing them. They’re so hot!”

Emma’s stomach dropped into her silver high-top sneakers. Did Holly really just say that?

“Hey, Lex! It looks like you got some competition over there,” Ivana said, nodding in Emma’s direction.

“Competition?” Lexie snorted. “You think?”

Kayla and Shannon giggled.

Emma had had enough. She raced back to the dressing room. All she wanted to do was get out of there.

“Em, wait!” Holly cried, bursting into the dressing room. “You didn’t say your sketches were a secret. I just wanted everyone to see how awesome your stuff is. Don’t make such a big deal about it, okay?”

“Sure…I get it,” Emma said as evenly as she could, avoiding Holly’s eyes by putting the unused clothes back on their hangers. “No worries. I’m fine.”

Emma suddenly felt frustrated—with Holly and herself. How can Holly hang out with these girls? They’re not even nice to each other—and they’re supposedly best friends—so why would I expect them to be nice to me? Emma wondered. She decided right there and then that she wasn’t going to tell Holly about Allegra. What had just happened made it obvious that Holly was not keeping secrets from Ivana and the ’Bees these days.

The last thing I’m going to do, Emma silently vowed, is let Ivana ruin Allegra for me. Ivana can have her style-showdown victory and her lunch table and her loyal followers and even Holly’s friendship—but she can’t have this.

No way, Emma thought. Allegra is mine.

Chapter 8 Three New Pieces

Charlie calling her name from down the hallway just barely penetrated the fog Emma had been in for the thirty-six hours since the Bloomingdale’s Incident. While Holly was acting as if nothing had happened, texting and chatting with Emma like usual, Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that something—kind of big, actually— had happened. Every time she thought of Holly telling the group about her sketches of