“You will do this, Macey,” her mother said. “You will—”
But then my escort cleared his throat, and Mrs. McHenry turned. I expected her to gush like she had on the phone when Macey had called to invite me to join them, but instead she waved in my direction and said, “There, your little friend is here.”
Something in the way her mother spoke about me made Macey draw a breath. I was relieved that no one else noticed how my roommate’s fists clenched tighter for just a moment before she spun around and snapped, “We’re going for a walk.”
“Don’t forget the rehearsal!” her mother called, but Macey was already pulling me through the double doors.
I caught the agent’s eye one final time as he tried to figure out what I could possibly have in common with the girl who was pulling me along. On the TV, someone said, “Cynthia McHenry is a well-known businesswoman and philanthropist. The couple has one daughter, Macey, a student at the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women, in Roseville, Virginia.”
Our school. National television.
A thousand thoughts raced through my mind before Macey slammed the doors behind us, as if trapping my worries on the other side. She smiled a mischievous smile, and for the first time that day I recognized my friend in the girl who stood before me. “So, how do you like my cover?”
