Page 87 of The Good Girl's Guide to Being Bad

“You pulled the fire alarm?” Betty said.

I nodded, taking a much needed and welcome sip of my tea. “It seemed like the only thing I could do.”

“Good girl,” Betty praised. “That was some quick thinking on your part. I’m sure Colton would’ve beaten the daylights out of that despicable Billy, but you did the right thing.”

“I don’t know,” I muttered.

“And then,” Cora said, her eyes expectant. “What happened after that?”

What happened after was what made me uncertain.

“They both got written up and sent home,” I said. “But it wasn’t Colton’s fault. He was just defending Kyle and me.”

Betty sighed. “I knew I liked him.”

“Me, too,” Cora agreed.

They weren’t the only ones, I thought. The way something inside my chest fluttered whenever I thought of Colton indicated some serious like-age on my part.

“And those four leftover things,” Cora asked, shooting Betty a conspiratorial glance, “do they by chance include any of the kissing items, or are those all complete?”

I pretended to be very interested in my tea, and Betty laughed.

“Oh, I’d say by the silent treatment, those were done well indeed,” she said knowingly. “I can’t even remember the last time I blushed like that. It must’ve been back when I dated Dean Deville. He was Old Hollywood, Sadie, the up-and-coming director at the time, and oh, one heck of a kisser. Ooh, the lips on that boy. They were full and lush—much like your Colton’s.”

“Holy smokes,” I mumbled, trying desperately not to think of Colton’s mouth—and failing. “Can we not talk about this, please?”

“Whatever you’d like, dear.”

Cora and Betty tittered while I gathered my wits. Brows furrowed, I said, “Did you say up-and-coming director? Betty, I haven’t heard this story yet.”

“Oh, I’d wager there’s a lot you haven’t heard,” Cora said. “Betty had a string of beaus back in the day, and they were all well-known, award-winning, something-or-others. And she helped each and every one of them get there. Her makeup skills were the things of Hollywood legend.”

“Really?” I said, intrigued.

Cora nodded. “She basically had her own fan club back then. Bet a lot of them still remember.”

“I have kept in touch and do have several of their numbers,” Betty said coyly. “It’s nice to reminisce with good friends.”

“Or past lovers,” Cora mumbled to which Betty nudged her side.

“I just loved making whoever it was look their best on camera.” Betty held up her tea to me in a toast. “It was my delight.”

The conversation made an idea bloom fully in my head. Before I gave it much thought, I heard myself say, “Hey, Betty?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I was hoping to ask you for a favor.”

Betty nodded. “Well, go right ahead. Is this about your list? Because you know I would do anything to help you.”

“It is,” I said. “We’re going to be shooting a video, probably next week, of one of my dances, and I was wondering…well, if you wouldn’t mind, I know it’s not the Oscars or anything…but would you be willing to do my makeup for me?”

Betty put her cup aside, one hand going to her chest, suddenly slumping over in her chair. Not going to lie, I freaked. I was up and beside her in two seconds flat.

“Betty,” I said urgently, “are you okay? Should I call a nurse?”

Cora seemed to be holding her breath as well.

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