Partners in Crime (9780545463119) by Kim Harrington

“You search your house. Especially in any drawers or file cabinets your parents have. Like in the den. See if you can find any other evidence that Bailey is real.”
    I glanced at Darcy to see if she had anything else to add, but it was like she wasn’t even listening anymore. She suddenly stood up, said, “I need asnack,” and leaned over the bed where the backpacks were.
    Fiona shrugged and looked back at me.
    But I knew what Darcy was doing. That wasn’t her backpack she was unzipping.
    The guilt must have shown on my face, because Fiona looked back over her shoulder just as Darcy slid the infamous pink notebook out of Fiona’s backpack.
    â€œHey!” Fiona yelled. “That’s mine.”
    â€œReally?” Darcy said, smiling. “What is it?”
    Fiona clumsily scrambled to her feet. It’s hard to get out of a beanbag chair quickly, especially when you’re wearing heels. “Give it to me! That’s private!”
    Darcy slid her finger underneath the cover. “Why, what’s in it? Secrets? Gossip you spread about other kids?”
    â€œWhat? No!” Fiona looked confused. “Give it back.”
    Fiona stretched out her hand to grab it, but it was just out of reach.
    And too late. Darcy flipped the cover open for all of us to see what was inside.
    I gasped.

The pink notebook that Fiona kept with her all the time, that she scribbled in when she should have been paying attention to teachers, that Darcy was convinced contained all the secrets of the popular crowd, wasn’t actually a notebook after all.
    It was a sketchbook.
    I stepped closer and watched as Darcy flipped through page after page of sketches. Shirts, skirts, and beautiful dresses. Some in color, some only pencil sketches.
    â€œDid you draw these?” I asked.
    Fiona snatched the book back and closed it. “Yes.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you want us to see that?” Darcy said. “I mean … it’s good.”
    â€œYou really think so?” Fiona asked, clutching the book to her chest.
    Darcy shrugged. “Well, you should use fewer happy colors and more black, but yeah.”
    â€œThose are your own designs?” I asked.
    Fiona nodded quickly. “Yeah. But don’t tell anyone about it.”
    â€œWhy not?” Darcy said. “There’s great stuff in there.”
    â€œI don’t know.” Fiona stuffed the book back into her backpack. Then she turned to us. “I’d like to go to design school someday. Get into fashion. But I don’t want anyone to know about it … in case I don’t get in.”
    Hold up . Fiona Fanning — the most popular girl in our school — who had the looks, the clothes, the friends, the confidence … was afraid of failure.
    I needed to sit down.
    I slumped into a beanbag chair while Fiona and Darcy stayed standing.
    â€œIt’s like one of those lifelong dreams,” Fiona explained, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “And I really want it to come true. But I’m scared that if I tell people, it will jinx it or something. Or that if Itell everyone and then I don’t end up going to fashion school, it’ll make the disappointment even worse.”
    Welcome to my nightmares, Fiona. Only substitute MIT for fashion school. Or Zane Munro liking me. Both cause equal anxiety.
    â€œWe won’t tell anyone,” I said, and Darcy nodded in agreement.
    I had to admit, between Fiona needing our help and us seeing this other side of her, I was actually starting to like her a bit. We had as much in common as Jupiter and a pizza, but still. She was growing on me.
    A pop song started coming from the backpacks on the bed.
    â€œOh, that’s mine.” Fiona unzipped the front pouch of her bag and pulled out a cell phone.
    Seriously … was I the only girl in my grade without her own phone?
    Fiona checked the screen to see who was calling. She giggled, then