1.
It was the last day before spring break, and Brie Turner was nearly delirious. Not only because it was the Olympiad--the yearly field day at Stokely Prep--and already almost a hundred degrees outside but also because she was cleaning up when it came to medals. So far, she’d won the sixty-meter dash, shot put, and hammer throw and she’d come in second in the egg carry, which wasn’t truly athletic but had still earned her a standing ovation from Mrs. Mehalick’s eighth-grade class. It felt so good having people cheer just for her. She’d gotten into sports only recently, but she was pleased to discover she had some natural skill. On any other day, she was just the new girl . . . but on field day, she was a hero.
Sitting on the bench, drenched in sweat, her ponytail frizzing everywhere, she sipped the cup of tepid orange drink someone’s mom had handed her and caught her breath as she waited her turn for the three-legged race. She’d been strategic about choosing her seat, knowing there was just one person between her and the Ems.
Emily Bell, Emma Bryan, and Emerson Smith-Robinson, collectively known as the Ems, were the most popular girls in eighth grade--in the entire school. They were pretty and smart and had all the best clothes and perfect hair, which made it almost impossible for anyone else to get close to them, even Amber Hackney, who thought her name beginning with Am would be enough. As it was, Jonah Wilder was currently the only person sitting between Brie and the Ems. This was a very good thing, because Brie could hear snatches of their conversation, plus being paired with Jonah gave her a high likelihood of winning the next race. He was Emily’s boyfriend, which mostly meant that he sat near the Ems and stared at his phone while they giggled.
“Jonah, scoot,” Emily said, and he obediently got up and moved to sit with his friends, his eyes not leaving his phone screen.
Brie’s heart rate went right back up as Emily Bell--the Emily Bell, the leader of the Ems--sat beside her. Brie wanted to scrape the sweat off her forehead or make sure the sleeves of her tee were rolled up properly, but it was too late. Emily was right there, with Emma and Emerson watching from the other side like jackals following a lion.
“So you’re new,” Emily said, twirling an inexplicably perfect red curl around her finger. “Who are you again?”
“I’m Brie. I transferred--I mean, I moved here a few weeks ago. Which I guess is a just a big transfer.”
Ohhhhhh no.
When Brie got excited, her mouth often said things before her brain could catch up.
She had to be careful.
She had to be better at lying.
“Where’d you move from?”
“California.”
The lie worked only because her skin was always tan. The Ems didn’t need to know that was genetic and not from surfing.
“And you’re, like, fast.”
Brie looked down at the medals swinging from her chest; it was weird how her new school gave them out after each event instead of at a ceremony at the end like her old school, but she wasn’t going to complain. Lots of things about private school were weird, she was learning.
“I guess so.” Brie was aware that this could be a trap: if she agreed too readily that she was fast, she was stuck-up, but if she denied it, she was obviously lying. The Ems ridiculed people who admitted they were good at anything and ignored anyone who seemed weak. Brie knew that they weren’t necessarily nice, and yet she was dying to be among them. When Emily Bell looked at her, she felt truly seen, like she was standing in a sunbeam. The Ems were like celebrities, like movie stars. No one could make fun of them, no matter what.
When you were an Em, nobody messed with you.
Nobody.
Emily Bell scooted closer. “Want to be my partner for the three-legged race, then? I really want to win. My dad said if I brought home a gold medal, he’d give me a hundred dollars. And, like, I want him to be proud, you know?”
Brie did not know. Her parents didn’t value medals or athletics, and they didn’t really respect or understand her recent interest in sports. Her dad was a doctor, and her mom was a librarian, and they vastly preferred academics, which was part of the reason Brie had transferred . . . although it was her older sister, Artemis, who’d caused all the problems. What happened last fall had changed everything, and now Brie was here, and she had to keep it all a secret while trying to get as close to the safety of popularity as possible.
She’d always been fast and coordinated, so as soon as she arrived at Stokely, she joined the volleyball, basketball, and track teams. The tryouts were grueling, but her height and speed made her a shoo-in. Her parents weren’t very supportive, but at least they didn’t mind picking her up late after school. So far, she hadn’t really connected with anyone. The girls here were standoffish, but she was making progress. Her original goal was to make a solid friend group and just . . . blend in. She needed friends, and she needed camouflage.
But if she had a shot with the Ems, that was light-years better than any sports team.
And now Emily Bell wanted to be partners with her.
“Totally,” Brie agreed, swiftly realizing she was about to be tied at the ankle to the most popular girl in school and hoping that she’d done a good enough job of shaving her legs and that her socks weren’t too sweaty.
Although she was already committed and was beyond excited to earn any social currency with the Ems, Brie felt a momentary pang of concern. Emily wasn’t fast at all, and she would only slow Brie down. That meant Brie had to figure out a better way to win, because she could see the other partnerships coming together and knew that Jonah and his best friend, Leo, would be hard to beat.
Soon she was side by side with Emily Bell as Mrs. Mehalick bound their legs together at the ankle with a piece of gingham fabric. This close, Brie could smell the sweet and dreamy scent of strawberry wafting off Emily, who somehow didn’t seem to sweat like normal people or even have BO or bad breath. Maybe that was part of being popular, Brie thought--just being born less gross than everyone else. They hobbled to the starting line, right beside Jonah and Leo.
“Jonah, you’re not going to make me lose, are you?” Emily said, sticking out her glossy lips in a pout.
Jonah looked deeply confused, which was his usual look, but Leo said, “If you’re slower, you lose. Nobody makes you do anything.”
“He’s so mean. You’re so mean! Ugh.” Emily turned the full force of her personality on Brie. “You’re faster than them, right?” she asked.
When I’m not tied to you, Brie wanted to say but didn’t.
Instead, she said, “I’ll do my best, if you can keep up.”
Emily’s wide blue eyes goggled. “Oh, wow, okay. Rude.” But she seemed more amused than actually offended. People never talked to Emily Bell that way.
“On your marks!” Mrs. Mehalick called.
Brie focused on the finish line. “Outside leg first, then inside leg. Follow my lead.”
“I don’t care. Just win,” Emily growled.
“Go!”
But Emily Bell was no athlete, and she didn’t do well following orders. Instead of starting with her outside leg, she lurched forward with her right, nearly dragging Brie down to the ground. Jonah and Leo took off like a shot, and Brie’s heart sank as she realized that they had already fallen behind. With twelve groups of kids running and skipping and tumbling across the soccer field, it was quickly turning into an obstacle course for those who weren’t in front of the pack.
And yet . . . Brie had to win.
After today, there was only another month and a half of school and then one more summer before they leveled up to Stokely High and it would be even harder to break into their clique. All Brie wanted was to fit in, to be part of a group, to be cool. She wanted to spend her summer days sunning by Emily’s pool, go to the famous sleepovers in Emma’s fancy tree house she’d heard about. Emerson even had horses, and Brie dreamed of getting invited over to ride. She was going to win this race no matter what it cost her.
And that was why she picked Emily Bell up under her perfect arms and ran for it.
“Oh my god, what are you doing?” Emily shrieked, feebly flailing as Brie held her by her weirdly dry armpits, glad for once that she was the tallest, strongest girl in their class.
“I’m winning.”
Brie didn’t know why Emily Bell needed a hundred dollars from her dad so badly. She was rich and already seemed to have everything she could want, from expensive clothes and shoes to her mom’s huge car and a giant mansion with a pool with a slide--or so Brie had heard from other kids gossiping. But whatever her reasons, Emily apparently wanted that money badly enough to stop flailing and allow Brie to carry her like an angry cat. That freed Brie up to run as fast as she could, passing all the other kids as they struggled and fell and laughed. It was as if Emily Bell really was a pixie; she barely weighed anything at all. Only Jonah and Leo were still ahead of them, running together in perfect unison, and they were already so close to the finish line. . . .
It didn’t matter. Brie could spike a serve. She could nail a three-pointer. She could outrun Jonah on the track. And she was going to win this race, no matter what.
She put on a frantic burst of speed, her lungs heaving, her arms straining as she carried eighty pounds of queen bee across the finish line.
And because she was carrying Emily Bell in front of her, they won by--well, by an Emily.
They won!
She set Emily down on the ground, and for one beautiful moment, they held each other by the arms and jumped up and down, screaming. The look on Emily’s face was pure joy, pure triumph--even if she hadn’t really done anything. It was the best moment of Brie’s life so far.
“In your face, Jonah!” Emily screeched at her boyfriend, who winced.
Mrs. Mehalick gave them each a gold medal, which of course wasn’t actually gold but shone like it in the hot Georgia sun. “Smart thinking, Brie,” she said, mouth quirked up. “A little unconventional, but it wasn’t against the rules.”
“It was Emily’s idea,” Brie told her, and it was only kind of a lie.
Emily soaked that up.
“It was, wasn’t it?” she said, preening.
Emma and Emerson struggled over with Amber and her friend Grace trailing behind them; they’d come in near last. The Ems weren’t known for their athletic prowess.
“Good going, Em!” Emma squealed.
“Yeah, way to go!” Emerson added.
“Yeah, totally!” Amber and Grace said almost at the same time, with a hint of desperation.
Emily looked at Brie as if seeing her--really, truly seeing her--for the first time.
“You can come to my birthday party,” she finally said like a princess handing out tiaras. “Next week, at Wildwoods. We have four spots, so there’s just one left.”
Amber and Grace visibly deflated, but Brie could’ve exploded with happiness.
Another gold medal, and an invite to party with the Ems at the biggest amusement park in the state.
It was the best day of her life.
She was going to be friends with the Ems if it killed her.
2.
On the third day of Spring Break, a big pink envelope arrived in the mail, and it was even better than Brie had anticipated: for Emily Bell’s birthday, they were actually sleeping over at the Wildwoods amusement park, part of a special after-hours lock-in. There were tons of rides, including Georgia’s longest roller coaster, the Catamount. One coaster even had real alligators underneath it, just living their alligator lives down there in a fake swamp.
Brie spent all afternoon getting ready, doing her best to tame her wild hair and making sure she was dressed exactly like the Ems usually were, in short jean cutoffs and an oversized pastel T-shirt. She had the same white sneakers they favored, and she’d broken them in inside the house so they wouldn’t look brand-new but also wouldn’t be super dirty. Her backpack had a variety of pajamas, because she didn’t want to wear the wrong kind, plus a flashlight, phone charger, and chewable Pepto Bismol, just in case.
“So what are these girls like?” her mom asked as they loaded the car.
“Um . . . they’re just girls. Emerson has horses, I think?”
Her mom gave her The Look. “Are they kind? Are they smart? Are they creative? Why haven’t you mentioned them before?”
Because you wouldn’t like them, Brie thought.
Her parents--and Artemis--were entirely focused on academic achievement and learning to the exclusion of all else. Brie had been like that, too--before last fall. Now she was determined to keep her grades up to the family standards while never making the same kind of mistake Artemis had. Now Brie just wanted to be normal.
“I guess I’ll find out more about them tonight,” she finally said.
“I hope they won’t distract you from school. If your grades go down--”
“They won’t, Mom. It’s just one Saturday night.”
Her mom pointed to the window of Artemis’s room. “Your sister is up there studying. At your age, she was writing her first book. Last year, you were spending your weekends learning to code. What happened?”
“You know what happened,” Brie snapped, immediately regretting it. More softly, she said, “Just . . . let me be me, Mom. I’m trying new things. Support me like you support her. Please.”
Her mom’s lips pursed. “Your sister was trying to achieve her goals--”
“And look where that got her. Look where it got me.”
A heavy sigh. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of her.”
“I’m not.” But Brie had had to change schools. She couldn’t do that again.
Her mom closed the trunk and gave her a long look. “Don’t become something you’re not just because you’re scared, Brie. Don’t succumb to peer pressure. Listen to your heart.”
Brie returned the look angrily. “Maybe I am listening to my heart. Maybe it’s just saying something you don’t want to hear.”
Copyright © 2025 by Delilah S. Dawson. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.