Page 77 of The Accidental Beauty Queen
I can’t believe what she just did. She sacrificed herself for me. She didn’t have to do it. We could have worked things out. She could have waited until the pageant was over, and we could have talked it through.
She’ll never have a chance at the title again. After a lifetime of pursuing the crown, Ginny will never be Miss American Treasure.
This seems unfathomable to me, and yet, when I finally push past the agitated mob of people and reach my twin, she doesn’t look at all like a person whose dream has just withered and died. Her lips are curved into a serene smile, and she holds her head high. As always, she looks like royalty.
I throw my arms around her with such force that we both nearly topple to the ground.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” I whisper into her mass of hair extensions.
“It was all true,” she says. “Every word. I’m just sorry it took me so long to tell you how amazing you are. I guess I thought you knew.”
I sniff. Loudly. My God, I don’t remember the last time I cried this hard. “Nope.”
She pulls back to look me in the eyes. “Well, you are. Adam is a disgusting pig. And I haven’t exactly been the nicest person to be around lately either. I went a little crown crazy.”
“It’s okay.” I smile. “We’re even now.”
And for a wacky, wonderful moment, everything seems okay. All around us, people are yelling or crying or cursing, but in our little bubble, life is good. It’s just Ginny and me, and for the first time since childhood, we’re one. The broken cord that once held us together so tightly is intact again.
But then my gaze drifts over her shoulder and I see Gray.
Our eyes meet, and I want to go to him and apologize. I want to tell him that even though I’ve acted like a phony and a fake, my feelings for him are genuine. I’ve fallen for him, and that’s a fact.
But there’s too much fiction between us.
When I take a step toward him, his beautiful blue eyes go cold. And then he turns his back on me and leaves without saying a word as I choke on a sob.
“Charlotte, what’s wrong?” Ginny says. She follows my gaze until her attention lands squarely on Gray’s slumped shoulders.
After everything we’ve been through this week, I still haven’t opened up to her about Gray. I’m still holding on to to one last secret.
No more.
I take a deep, shuddering breath.
No more pretending.
No more lies.
“I have so much to tell you,” I say. Then I reach for my twin, and hand in hand, we walk out of the ballroom and leave the Miss American Treasure pageant behind.
Once and for all.
20
It takes nearly a month for my faux tan to fade away.
Seriously, what kind of chemicals must they put in that stuff? It can’t be healthy. Not that it matters much to me personally, since I’ll never be using self-tanner again. Ever.
But the gradual transition of my skin back to its standard shade—a color I lovingly refer to as bibliophile pale—is as good a way as any to mark the time. A lot has happened.
A whole lot.
For starters, after all the drama that concluded the Miss American Treasure prelims, the Gormans promptly pulled an Elvis and left the building. It was a tense ride to the airport, considering Dad and Susan were still barely speaking to both Ginny and me. If we’d been a decade or two younger, we’d have been grounded for life. Alas, we’re pushing thirty. Ginny and I each wrote handwritten letters of apology to all forty-nine of the other pageant contestants, but that was our choice. The only punishment our parents have enforced is a weekly Sunday-night dinner where we’re regularly encouraged to talk about our feelings so that our family never has a repeat of the pageant debacle ever again.
It’s not so bad, really. For starters, Susan is an amazing chef. Ginny and I are both convinced that the family dinner thing was her idea, because it gives her a chance to channel her inner Julia Child on a regular basis. Over dishes like boeuf bourguignon, quiche Lorraine, and paper-thin crêpes, I’ve learned a lot about my twin.
It’s crazy. Before the pageant, I could have sworn I knew everything there was to know about Ginny, her deep appreciation for the Fifty Shades trilogy notwithstanding. I’m still not over that, by the way. I’llneverbe over it.
