Unfriendly Competition by Jessica Burkhart Page A

weren’t fake, and then waved us inside.
    A coat checker took our coats, and Brit and I took a simultaneous deep breaths—looking at each other. I couldn’t stop feeling a little nervous—I’d never been to a party like this.
    Ever.
    We walked down the gleaming hallway, which had just been polished, and Brit opened the door to the ballroom. It seemed as if everyone else had the same theory we’d had about not wanting to be late. The ballroom was full. People from our class, and a few other students from ninth grade, were standing by a buffet table with a dozen platters of food.
    â€œIs that lobster ?” I whispered to Brit, not wanting to sound dumb.
    â€œI think so. Wow.”
    Everything was decorated in deep purple and silver. Mrs. Fox had known exactly what she was doing—picking out a color like purple that stood for royalty. There were deep, cushy purple chairs and couches placed around the walls and corners of the ballroom. Silver, sparkly spirals dangled from the ceiling. The black and white marble floor was slick under my heels, and it caught reflections from the lights. Waitresses carrying trays of sparkling cider in champagne flutes moved through the room, offering drinks to the students. The fifty or so students were all dressed according to the invitation. The girls were in gorgeous dresses and there wasn’t a guy without a tux. Shoes shined, diamondssparkled, and it looked like a party where I didn’t belong.
    But it’s Heather’s, I told myself. There wasn’t any reason to be nervous.
    In the back of the room, on the biggest table was a gift pile for Heather. Brit and I hadn’t brought our presents for Heather—we were taking the risk of her publicly decapitating us to make tonight’s secret party even better.
    Seated in one of the purple chairs with Troy and Alison sitting on either side of her, I spotted the birthday girl.
    â€œLet’s go say hi and then look for our guys,” I said to Brit.
    â€œGood plan.”
    We weaved through the students who were talking or dancing to music.
    â€œHappy birthday!” Brit and I said when we reached Heather.
    She looked stunning. She wore a short, fire-engine red spaghetti strap dress with black tights and heels. Diamond studs glittered from her ears and she wore a silver necklace that knotted around her throat. Her blond hair was curled into soft waves that brushed against her shoulders.
    â€œThanks,” Heather said. “Mom outdid herself, huh?”
    I nodded. “Um, yeah. It’s insane in here. Where . . .”—I decided to lower my voice—“is she?”
    Heather laughed and took Troy’s hand. “Are you kidding? Please, Silver. I thought you’d know better. She split the second she saw everything was in perfect order.”
    Troy squeezed Heather’s hand, an uncomfortable look on his face. “Want me to grab you a drink?” he asked her.
    â€œPlease,” Heather said, smiling at him.
    â€œI’ll go with you,” Alison said.
    He smiled at all of us before heading for the drinks. He hadn’t been with Heather for too long, so the talk about her mom probably made him uncomfortable.
    â€œDid she hang out with you before the party started?” Brit asked.
    I already knew the answer, though.
    Heather’s blue eyes were pale, pool blue. “She came to throw a Fox-worthy party. Then she left. Whatever. It’s not like we’re BFFs or anything. I’m glad she left.”
    Heather didn’t fool me at all. Mrs. Fox had hurt her feelings. Again. Part of what Heather had said was true—they didn’t get along and it would have been awkward between them. But it was a big birthday for Heather and her mother hadn’t cared enough to stay. I doubtedMr. Fox had even called or texted Heather two words about today. It made me sad and angry at the same time.
    â€œWell, guess what?” I said. “If