Landon? Laynie? Had the freak finally done something right?
“Would you excuse me for a sec?” Massie said, flirt-batting her lashes at Landon.
“Sure.” He shrugged.
Massie jumped off the runway, gripped Layne’s arm, and dragged her out of earshot. “Ehmagawd, where did you get him?” she whisper-shouted.
Unfazed, Layne checked her clipboard. “He goes to ADD. I know you have public school issues, but the public boys tend to be more available than the privates, and with such short notice I—”
“So… they know Chris?” Massie asked.
“Yup.” Layne removed her lensless glasses and breathe-cleaned the empty frames. “Prrrretty much.”
“What grade, again?”
“Ninth.”
Massie paused, her amber eyes darting while she processed the new information.
“Layne,” she finally said. “Are you a hammer?”
“No.” Layne tilted her head in a “what did I do now” kind of way. “Why?”
“Because you nailed it!”
Layne released a beef jerky–scented sigh of relief. “Told ya I would.”
Massie longed for the Chanel No. 19 in the tent. She wanted to spray him and claim him right there and then. On a stage. In public. So there would be no question as to whom he belonged to. But all she had in her pocket was a half-used tube of Chocolate Biscotti Glossip Girl, the thought of which gave her an instant stomachache. She dragged Layne back to the runway.
“Sorry ’bout that,” she said sweetly to Landon, trying hard not to stare. “Where were we?”
“Uh, I guess we were doing introductions.” Landon stepped to the side, revealing his entourage. “This is Miles—”
“Hey.” A shaggy blonde in track pants and a gray hoodie stepped forward.
“Ace—”
“What’s up?” An olive-skinned hottie in cargos and a vintage Prince T-shirt nodded.
“And Scott,” Landon finished.
“Call me Re-Quest,” Scott grinned, waving his iTouch. “I’m DJing.” In dark wash jeans and a faded T-shirt that read I TOUCH, U FEEL, he definitely looked the part.
“Hey.” Massie smile-nodded at the group. Something poked her in the back.
“Ach-HEM!” Cassidy cough-reminded her.
“Oh. Right. Meet the girls of Massie and Crew.” Massie didn’t bother moving out of the way.
“Heyyyyyyyy,” Kaitlyn cooed behind her.
“’Sup,” Tampax Sport said.
“A-lo-ha,” Lilah intoned.
Bean speed-rushed Landon, running circles around him and yipping her approval. Massie couldn’t blame her.
“And this is Bean,” she said, taking advantage of the fact that Landon was focusing on the puppy. That meant she was free to focus on his hair. How did he get it that shiny?
“I have a pug too.” Landon knelt down to scratch Bean’s head. “My boy puppy looks just like him.”
Bean stiffened at being mistaken for a boy. But Massie didn’t correct Landon.
“Really?” she grinned, kneeling too so she could smell Landon’s cologne. It was spicy and woodsy. CK Eternity Summer, if she had to guess.
“Yup.” Landon nodded. “His name’s Bark Obama.” He glanced into Massie’s eyes, grinned, then looked away.
Bark Obama? Massie felt faint. Cute, good cologne, an animal lover, and smart? Was Landon too good to be true?
“Oh-kay. Introductions. Check.” Layne announced, ruining the moment. She checked her clipboard for the billionth time and hit Landon with it. “I told you to be here half an hour ago.”
“Sorry.” Landon shrugged, sneaking another glance at Massie. She tried not to notice. The last time a guy looked at her like that, he’d ended up falling for Kristen.
“We came straight from practice. Coach kept us late,” said Re-Quest.
Massie felt her chest collapse with disappointment. Puh-lease, Gawd, not soccer again!
“Oh, really? What do you play?” Massie managed with fake pep.
“Lacrosse.” Landon shrugged like it was no big deal.
Massie’s spirits nosedived. What was it with cute boys and sports? Couldn’t they shop out their aggression like everyone else? As cute as Landon was, Massie wasn’t sure she could spend another season on a cold bleacher pretending to care. Faking interest was for listening to people’s dreams. Nawt sports. Nawt anymore.
“But I’m done for the season.” Landon tapped his left shoulder and sighed. “Delt injury.”
“Thank Gawd,” Massie accidentally said aloud.
“Huh?” Landon squinted, like maybe he hadn’t heard her properly.
“I mean, thank Gawd you stopped playing,” she managed. “Too many athletes ignore their injuries and then they’re done for life.” A wisp of brown hair blew toward her face, tickling the side of her cheek. “So whaddaya think? You done for life?”
“Maybe.” Landon half smiled, like maybe they weren’t talking about lacrosse anymore.
Massie half smiled back. “Cool.”
“Light check!” one of the engineers yelled.
Massie and Landon were suddenly bathed in the heavenly glow of twelve different spotlights.
The universe approved.
Layne checked her large-face Nike digital watch, which looked more like a microwave than a timepiece. “Curtain goes up in an hour,” she announced. “Time to get fitted for—”
Massie clapped twice. “Everyone to the tent for H&M.” She didn’t need Landon thinking Layne was in charge.
“Are you kidding?” Lilah planted one hand on her jutted hip. “I thought the clothes were designer.”
Massie rolled her eyes. “H&M is—”
“Hair and makeup,” Landon offered. Then blush-shrugged. “My mom works in fashion.”
“No way!” Massie smacked his shoulder. “That’s awesome.”
“Ahhhhhhhhh.” Landon gripped his injured delt while the lacrosse boys winced on his behalf.
“Ehmagawd, I’m so sorry.” Her hovercrafts instantly powered down. Who was she kidding, thinking she was ready for another crush? Losing Dempsey to Kristen had left her feeling like a teddy bear without stuffing. Was it too soon to love again?
Crush deactivated. Starting now.
But he was too cute! On one hand, she couldn’t live the rest of her life afraid of true love. On the other hand, she’d sworn to herself that she’d never let another boy humiliate her like Chris Abeley, Derrington, and Dempsey Solomon had. So now what?
“You guys have an appointment with Jakkob.” Massie smiled, getting back to business. Her heart would have to wait. “Girls, can you show them to the wardrobe tent?”
The MAC girls giggle-nodded, and Shaggy, Prince, and Re-Quest followed them down the runway toward the giant white tent. Landon stayed behind, digging his sneaker into the runway.
“Um… aren’t you going into makeup?” Massie asked, pressing her hands against her hips. “Nawt that you need it or anything.” No! Wait! She was coming on too strong. Start over. “But I mean, everybody else is getting it, so you prah-bly should too.” No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t sound crush free. She pinched her left hip, reminding herself that hawt boys were like Chanel’s stiletto lace-up gladiators: breathtaking, but painful to get wrapped up in.
“Thought maybe you could show me. I get lost pretty easy.” Landon grinned, his dimple reaching canyon-deep proportions.
Massie’s throat tightened. She looked at Layne, who was too busy flipping through her “to do’s” to notice the magic happening right in front of her.
“Can’t,” Massie choked out the necessary words. “I have to supervise Layne.”
“Heard that,” Layne muttered, scribbling something on her clipboard.
Landon’s dimple disappeared when the smile slipped from his lips.
“But give me your number and I’ll text you when I’m ready to walk,” she added quickly, crushed by the dimple’s sudden departure. She reached for her phone and handed it to him
.
“Cool.” Landon smile-programmed his number into Massie’s cell, then hurried to catch up with his friends in the wardrobe tent. “See ya, May-see,” he called over his good shoulder.
It didn’t even matter that he’d mispronounced her name. When Landon said “May-see,” it just sounded right. If she had to change it legally, so be it.
Massie victory-glossed. Twice.
Still an hour left to showtime, and everything was falling into place. With one exception. The people she wanted to gossip about Landon with were inside the guesthouse. And from the way they were laughing without her, she knew they couldn’t have cared less.
CURRENT STATE OF THE UNION
IN OUT
ADD OCD
Injured delts Broken hearts
Crushing Crushed
THE BLOCK ESTATE
THE GUESTHOUSE
Friday, October 23rd
6:45 P.M.
A blinding flash of light exploded in Alicia’s face as she stepped nervously into guesthouse living room. She screamed and blinked away the stars that swam in front of her eyes.
“Say cheeeeese!” Todd, Claire’s younger brother, sang in a British accent as Alicia regained her sight.
“Todd!” she screeched. “You almost blinded me!”
“That’s the price of celebrity, baby.” Todd shrugged, lifting a giant camera on a strap from around his neck. He was wearing too-short jeans that showcased his dingy white socks, a white T-shirt, and a leather jacket. A wool skullcap was pulled tight over his head, and dark sunglasses shaded his eyes.
“What’s that thing on your face?” Claire called from the couch where she, Dylan, and Kristen were sitting stiffly in their formal gowns. The other girls had gotten to the party early to put a few last-minute touches on the decorations.
“Yeah, what is that?” Kristen squinted at the black scribble of eyeliner that ran from Todd’s lower lip to his chin.
“It’s a goatee.” Todd looked offended. “Alicia said to dress up like the paparazzi, so I’m dressed like Adnan Ghalib.”
Alicia rolled her eyes in disgust, temporarily forgetting her pre-party nerves. She’d paid Todd and his best friend a hundred dollars to play the part of paparazzi for the party.“You mean that dirtbag Britney’s dating?”
“Used to date,” Todd corrected her. “They’re not together anymore. Not since the lawsu—” He realized his mistake too late. “There was nothing good on ESPN, so I switched to E!” he muttered.
“Busted.” Kristen laughed.
Just then, Todd’s best friend, Tiny Nathan, came through the doorway. He wore a teased brunette wig and Claire’s mom’s long black satin bathrobe and heels. Todd doubled over, collapsing on the sofa next to the girls.
“Ehmagawd!” Kristen laughed until she cried. Alicia’s cheeks hurt from smiling.
“And this,” Todd gasped, “is Maria Menounos. She’ll be doing the red-carpet interviews when the boys get here.”
“This sucks,” Tiny Nathan announced.
“You lost the coin toss fair and square.” Todd snorted. “Say it.”
Tiny Nathan dutifully pulled a cordless mic from the pocket of the robe. “I’m Maria, and you’re watching Entertainment Tonight,” he muttered.
While Todd and the girls cracked up all over again, Alicia smoothed the shimmering champagne-colored evening gown she’d ordered from Barneys. She knew she looked ah-mazing. But still, she’d never felt this nervous before a party in her entire life. Maybe that was because Massie was usually the one who took care of the details.
“Your hair looks great, Leesh,” Dylan called, patting her own hair, which had been flatironed and hung just past her boobs. She was wearing a strapless black gown she’d borrowed from the wardrobe department of The Daily Grind, her mom’s popular talk show.
“Love the earrings,” Kristen added, crossing her magenta chiffon–covered legs.
“Thanks,” Alicia said, trying to calm the nerves that were vibrating through her body at top speed. Her hair had been swept back in a loose, elegant chignon, and her mom had let her borrow a stunning pair of diamond chandelier earrings. The jewels pulled her earlobes, but knowing how hot she looked made the suffering worth it.
Diiiiiiiiiing-dong.
The guesthouse doorbell jolted Alicia back to reality.
“Ehmagawd, the boys are here!” Dylan squealed. Kristen and Claire jumped up, smoothing their dresses.
“Todd!” Alicia yelled, even though he was standing inches away.
“What?” he yelled back.
“Door!” Knowing Josh was only a few yards away made her even more nervous than she’d been just a few seconds ago.
“Right!” Todd grabbed his camera and scampered toward the front hall. Tiny Nathan lifted the hem of his black silk robe and click-clacked after Todd.
As quickly as possible in her skintight, floor-length gown, Alicia shuffle-waddled toward the dining room.
“Let’s go,” she whisper-hissed to the girls. “We don’t want them to think we’ve been waiting.”
“Right,” the girls whispered back, teetering behind her in their bejeweled high heels.
When Alicia had arrived at Claire’s yesterday after school, the Crate and Barrel white-and-blue dining room hadn’t looked like much. But she had single-handedly transformed the space from tired to inspired. The white table had been polished and dusted with Dior Night Diamond finishing powder to give it extra sheen. Glowing vanilla-scented pillar candles of varying sizes composed the centerpiece, and star-shaped balloons littered the floor and hung from the lights. The flea market oil painting of a winter lake that hung behind the head of the table had been draped in one of Alicia’s mom’s shimmering gold scarves. And the crystal stemware, ivory and gold china, and sterling silver at each place setting had been buffed and polished to perfection. The room screamed elegance and class. And that was exactly what Alicia was going for. So why did she still feel nervous?
“I bet the boys’ll look beyond cute in their tuxes,” Kristen said, straightening a place card that didn’t need to be straightened.
“I know,” Claire giggle-agreed, tugging anxiously at the oversize canary yellow gown she’d had to borrow from Dylan. “It’s a good thing we’re all dressed up, too, in case we want to head over to Massie’s later.”
Alicia’s head whipped toward Claire. But before she had a chance to ask her what that was supposed to mean, Derrington barreled through the door. He was dressed in jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers.
Alicia gripped the back of one of the dining room chairs, her nails digging into the antique wood, praying she was having a hunger-induced hallucination. Why wasn’t Derrington wearing a tux? She’d texted Josh to tell the boys the dress code was red-carpet chic. So what had happened?
Dylan’s glossed lips parted in shock. “What’re you wearing?” she asked, wrinkling her nose at his jeans and rumpled blue button-down.
“Why’s everybody on my case?” Derrington looked confused. “That weird little girl with the mic just asked me the same thing.”
Alicia finally recovered from her initial shock. “You were supposed to dress for the red carpet,” she snapped.
Dylan flushed. “Ehmagawd, Leesh, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I did dress for the red carpet!” Derrington protested. “Not everybody dresses up in a tux.”
“Yes, they do!” Alicia huffed, crossing her arms over her B-cups.
“The Jonas Brothers don’t!” Derrington said earnestly.
Just then, Dempsey, Cam, and Josh hurried through the door, Todd snapping shot after shot behind them.
“Who are you weeaaaaaring?” Tiny Nathan squealed from the living room.
“Would you lay off for a second, buddy?” Cam squinted, shielding his eyes from Todd’s camera.
The girls stood speechless as the guys crowded into the dining room. Cam and Dempsey were dressed in jeans too. Josh was the only guy wearing a tux.
“I can’t believe you guy
s didn’t have to dress up,” Josh said. He shook off his jacket, balled it up, and launched it across the table.
Alicia’s throat tightened. Didn’t have to? Josh should want to dress up with her, just like he should want to watch her try on clothes at the mall. Anger churned in her empty stomach. In under five seconds, the boys (minus Josh, sort of) had ruined the elegant atmosphere she’d slaved for hours to create. Glancing at Kristen, Dylan, and Claire, she knew they felt exactly the same way.
“Goooooaaaaaaaalllll!” Josh’s yell made the stemware on the table shake. He was cheering for Dempsey, who had folded one of the place cards into a paper football and was shooting it across the table.
“Maybe everybody should sit?” she said tersely, slipping into her chair at the head of the table. Josh sat at the other end, disappearing behind the centerpiece. Alicia was suddenly aware of her throbbing earlobes. How much longer they could possibly last under the pressure? How had Massie always played the part of hostess so incredibly coolly?
“So!” She took a deep breath, putting her ex-friend out of her mind, and forced herself to smile brightly. A Lily Allen song came on over the loudspeaker, and Alicia rang the tiny bell next to her dinner plate. “I have a little game for us to play. It’s called: Which celeb would you rather lip-kiss?”
“Love it!” Dylan proclaimed.
“Wait for it….” Derrington and Josh were holding a balloon over the candle centerpiece, lowering it closer and closer to the wavering flames.
POP!
“Niiiiiiiiiiccce!” the guys cheered.
Kristen, Dylan, and Claire giggled, then stopped when they saw Alicia’s face.
Alicia reached for her water goblet and chugged every last cooling drop to force back the flurry of angry reprimands creeping up her throat. “First question,” she said. “This one’s for the girls. Which celeb would you rather lip-kiss? Robert Pattinson, or—”
Suddenly, the opening beat of Britney’s “Circus” blasted from outside. The boys whip-turned toward the window.
“The fashion show!” Claire squealed, jumping from her seat.
Dylan and Kristen fidgeted with their silverware, pretending they didn’t care about what was going on outside. But Alicia could see Dylan unconsciously bobbing her head to the beat.
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