The Art of Being Alone (Together)

24 | Believe It, Babe

When Ethan tells me that there's no time like the present to go looking for Lizzie, I don't argue— since I'm still kicking myself for not taking his previous advice, it's not hard for him to convince me. Especially since I know he's right: the sooner I try to fix things, the better.

I have a pretty good guess of where she is, since he said he saw her heading to the fashion building when he ran into her earlier. I wonder if she's told Zack yet— what if one of them forgives me, and the other one doesn't?

I shake my head as I open one of the building's heavy doors, trying to clear my thoughts. I'll worry about that if it happens, but right now, all I want to focus on is coming clean.

I sigh as the door shuts behind me. The large room is totally empty. The sewing machines are quiet, surrounded by the fabrics and garments neatly hung on shelves and racks around the room. I'm alone, with no idea where else Lizzie might be. The writing building with Zack? Maybe.

My eyes find a rack that's all skirts, and I know before I even see the label that it's Lizzie's. Her collection looks amazing, and there's no doubt it'll be a huge hit tomorrow. There are six skirts, and I can already tell which goes with which decade, from the classic fifties style, the flashy metallic fabric for the eighties, and ending with a pleated miniskirt that looks straight out of a music video from the early aughts.

The sound of the door opening snaps me out of my thoughts, and my eyes go wide when I see shiny, bouncing curls poke into the doorway. Rita's head is turned away from me, and it seems like she's checking the room for people. Without thinking, I duck down, crouching behind the racks of clothing and hiding among the clothes.

"It's clear," Rita snaps, and I can see from below the hems of Lizzie's skirts as another set of feet walks inside.

"What are we doing in here?" Mei's voice asks. She sounds tired, almost annoyed. I hold my breath as the door closes behind them, feeling like prey trapped in a cage with its predator.

"We're here because I'm a genius," Rita replies, crossing the room. To my right is a table with a large swath of fabric draped over it, so I use that as cover as I peek around to watch them. Rita gestures dramatically to a rack at the back of the room, with fanciful looking dresses, colorful vests, and old-fashioned fashions. "Ta-da."

"The costumes for the play...?" Mei trails off, obviously not getting whatever Rita's trying to enlighten her with.

"And our ticket at the greatest, most foolproof revenge of all time."

"Rita..." Mei sighs, shifts her weight, and fidgets with her hands behind her back, where Rita can't see the nervous action. "They stopped pranking us already. We won. There's no reason to keep it going."

Rita lets out a dramatic huff of air, rolls her eyes, and runs a frustrated hand through her hair. "Just because they're done doesn't mean I am."

"I just don't understand why—"

"Then allow me to fill you in," Rita interrupts. "They humiliated me with that stupid worm prank. Delena stole Ethan from me. And to top it off, our last prank didn't even work. No one connected them to what happened with the dock, and Lizzie and that weirdo ended up happily ever after. This thing is so far from over."

"Okay..." Mei says it like she isn't totally convinced. "I still don't get what that has to do with our costumes."

"Well here's the plan, as simple as I can put it. You come here tonight, screw up our costumes, and plant the evidence at Lizzie's sewing station."

My eyes go wide, and I have to stop myself from gasping as my jaw falls open. Rita beams proudly, as if it's the most brilliant plan ever made. And I have to admit, it is good. It's exactly the type of thing I'd expect from such a heinous bitch, and yet I'm still surprised at just how low it is.