“Ow!” Faux-livia screeched.
“You guys are freaks.” Cam shook his head. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his beat-up leather jacket. “I’ll be right back.”
“You’re the one with two different-colored eyes,” Alicia shouted after him.
Cam turned around and smiled. “Sure, make fun of the eyes, that’s sooooo original.”
“Whatevs.” Alicia watched him hop from one metal bench to the next. He stopped when he got to Massie, Claire, Kristen, and Dylan. What made them so interesting? Why wasn’t Alicia enough? Why did everyone choose Massie?
Alicia tried to seem interested while Chris, Danny, and Derrington recapped the boring details of their winning goal. But she was distracted by Massie. She did look pretty. Her hair was even glossier than usual and Alicia couldn’t help wondering if there was someone special she was trying to impress.
The minute she saw Massie whack Cam with her signature roundhouse kick, Alicia had her answer. All the signs were there … the ultra-glossy hair, matching outfits with Bean, and, most importantly, the kick-boxing moves she’d learned from her mother’s old Taebo workout DVDs.
Oh my God, Massie likes Cam!
“Can you talk to her for me?” Derrington mumbled in Alicia’s ear. He had seen her roundhouse kick.
“What?” Alicia said, annoyed. “You have to speak up.”
“Can you tell Massie to go out with me?” Derrington said louder. “Come on, you’re her best friend. She’ll listen to you.”
Alicia didn’t want to tell Derrington that she and Massie weren’t speaking. Then he’d take sides. And she knew exactly whose side he’d take.
“Sure,” Alicia said to the cement. When she looked up again, she caught Harris sneaking a peek at her boobs.
“When did it get so cold?” Alicia buttoned her coat and folded her arms across her chest.
“Six weeks ago.” Harris flashed a big toothy smile. “The Strokes just canceled their Chicago show because of a snowstorm.” He tilted his head back and looked up at the late afternoon sky.
Alicia did the same, even though she had no idea why. It wasn’t dark enough yet to see any stars.
“I swear if that happens when they come here, I’ll freak.” Harris returned his gaze to Alicia.
His green eyes were so intense, Alicia had to look away. “Are you going to their concert?” she asked.
“I wish. I’m still trying to get tickets. They always sell out when they play in New York. I even tried eBay.” Harris ran his hands through his shaggy brown hair. “I’ll probably have to buy from scalpers.”
“How many tickets do you need?” Alicia asked.
“Two.” He sighed
“Done,” Alicia said.
Chris and Derrington laughed.
“Yeah, right,” Derrington said.
“I’m serious,” Alicia said.
Harris’s green eyes flickered with amusement. “There’s no way you could actually get those tickets,” he said. “Could you?”
“Given,” Alicia said. She waved her hand through the air to show him how ridiculous he was being. “My dad has the ultimate hookup. We just saw Beyoncé last night.”
“Why?” Derrington mumbled.
“He’s a lawyer and he knows everyone.”
“No,” Derrington said, “why did you see Beyoncé?”
Chris Plovert busted out laughing. They high-fived each other.
Alicia turned to Harris. “Do you want the tickets or not?”
“Hell, yeah.” Harris threw his arm around Alicia and she caught a whiff of his new leather jacket. It smelled fishy, but Alicia didn’t mind. It meant the leather was real.
“Who’s the other ticket for?” Alicia forced herself to stare straight into Harris’s pupils, because her cousin Nina told her boys got turned on by direct eye contact.
Harris smiled and raised his eyebrows. He didn’t speak, but his green eyes seemed to say, “It could be yours if you play your cards right.”
Alicia felt prickly heat spread through her entire body. She immediately looked toward the soccer field.
“Hey, Cam.” Harris cupped his hands over his mouth and called again, “Cam, time to boogie.”
Alicia watched Cam say goodbye to her ex-friends and felt a little pang of envy. It wasn’t fair that he got to hang out with them when she couldn’t.
“Why. Are. They. Calling. You an EW?” Cam panted. He was out of breath from running up the bleachers.
Alicia stepped away from Harris and lowered her voice. “They didn’t tell you?” she whispered to Cam’s shoulder.
“No, they said you’d tell me.”
“Come on, Cam, I have to get Mom’s car home,” Harris said. Then he turned back to Alicia one last time. “Call me as soon as you find out about those tickets.”
“Given.” Alicia looked around to see if anyone heard Harris ask her to call him. But it was getting dark and almost everyone had cleared out.
“Cam, I’ll be waiting in the car.” Harris lifted the collar on his jacket to block the wind and walked away.
“Okay, one minute,” Cam said. “I just have to talk to Alicia about something.”
Alicia prayed silently while Cam led her to a bleacher. He sat down. Please, God, don’t let him ask me why they are calling me an EW. PLEASE!
“Aren’t you going to sit down?” Cam asked.
“No, I’m fine,” Alicia said.
Cam stood up. Alicia could smell his Drakkar Noir mixed with dried sweat. It smelled better than his brother’s fishy jacket, but she still liked Harris more.
“Alicia, will you talk to your friend for me?” he asked softly.
“What’s with everyone?” Alicia snapped. “Do I look like the host of The Bachelorette? Go talk to Massie yourself if you like her so much.”
“I don’t,” Cam said through the side of his mouth. “I like hair.”
“What?” Alicia crinkled her eyebrows. “Are you looking for a stylist?”
“NO, I like Claire,” Cam said, raising his voice. “CLAIRE.” He quickly looked at his friends, who were busy helping Faux-livia decide if she should tattoo her ankle or her lower back. “But I never get a chance to talk to her alone. Massie’s always interrupting.”
Alicia looked at the dark sky and winked a thanks at God for this small miracle. Massie liked Cam. And Cam liked Claire. Alicia couldn’t wait to spread the news.
“I’d be psyched to talk to Claire for you,” Alicia blurted. Cam shushed her immediately. Then she whispered, “But you have to do something for me in return.”
“Anything,” Cam said. He was looking at Claire in the distance. She was sharing a bag of candy with Dylan. For some reason that made him grin.
“Tell your brother to take me to the Strokes concert,” Alicia said.
“Can’t you just get more tickets?” Cam asked.
“That’s not the point.”
“Don’t tell me you’re a Harris groupie too.” Cam sounded disappointed. “That’s disgusting. He’s like four years older than you.” Then his eyes lit up. “Ohhh, wait,” he said, throwing his hands in the air and slapping his thighs. “So that’s why they call you an EW. Right? ’Cause that’s gross?”
Alicia stuffed her hands in the pocket of her coat. “Yeah, that’s why.”
“Fine, I’ll talk to him. But you have to talk to Claire.” Cam stuck out his right hand. “Deal?”
Alicia grabbed his hand and shook it. “Deal.”
Cam jumped to his feet and Alicia watched him walk away with Derrington and Chris.
“Congrats again on a great game,” Alicia called after them.
“Go, Hawks!” Faux-livia shouted.
“Let’s go,” Alicia said. “Massie’s packing up and I want to beat her to the parking lot.”
“Let’s walk across the soccer field,” Faux-livia said. “It’s faster.”
“Done.” Alicia led the way.
It was windy on the field and the two girls were walking f
ast. “So I think he’s going to invite me to the Strokes concert,” she announced, tightening the pink scarf around her neck.
“What are you going to wear?” Faux-livia asked. “Hopefully something that shows off your boobs.”
Alicia punched Faux on the arm. “Gross! Shut up! Why would you say that?”
“I saw him checking them out.” Faux-livia laughed.
“Puh-lease, he was not,” Alicia insisted. “Was he?” This time they both laughed.
“You should totally wear your Dixon,” Faux said.
“Too daytime,” Alicia said. “I’m thinking more Miu Miu with a splash of Calvin.”
“You always know exactly what to do when it comes to boys.”
“I learned a lot from my older cousins. You should come to Spain next summer and hang out with us. They’ll teach you everything.”
“If I did, would that make me your beta?” Faux-livia asked.
“Huh?” Alicia stopped walking and looked her friend in the eye. The cold temperature turned her breath into white puffs of air that came out of her mouth when she spoke.
“Well, didn’t you once spend the summer with Massie and her family in the Hamptons?” Faux-livia asked.
“Yeah, so?” Alicia wondered when the Massie comments would end.
“So isn’t that when you became her beta? ’Cause when you came back, she was the alpha and you were like her second in command.”
“Yeah, but I am so over being a second,” Alicia said softly.
“Then be an alpha,” Faux-livia said. “And I’ll be your beta. I’ve always wanted to be one.”
“Are you serious?” Alicia asked, still not moving.
“Totally. Betas have it made. They don’t have the pressure of leading, but they still get the status.”
“No, I meant about me being an alpha,” Alicia said.
“Given,” Faux-livia said. “I mean, you’re as good as going to the Strokes concert with Harris Fisher. Only a true alpha could have pulled that off. You’re a natural.”
Alicia peeled off a yes sticker and stuck it to Faux-livia’s cheek. For the first time ever, the ditzy girl actually said something right.
OCTAVIAN COUNTRY DAY SCHOOL THE CAFÉ
4:25 PM
November 17th
Massie couldn’t bring herself to take another bite of the turkey burger that was on her lap. Every time she tried, a glob of ketchup fell onto her True Religion pre-ripped jeans and she couldn’t stand to keep them in harm’s way any longer.
She stood up from the head seat of table 18 and chucked the half-eaten burger in the trash.
“We have to clean up this mess,” Massie said to the piles of wrapping paper, ribbons, and mini-holiday cards that had taken over their regular lunch table in the Café. “There’s no room to eat.”
“But the gift exchange is only ten minutes away,” Dylan said. She pointed to the Jessica Simpson CD beside Massie. “And your gift isn’t even wrapped yet.”
“Who cares—this whole thing is stupid.” Massie gathered up a heap of paper scraps and bunched them up into a tight ball. “Our school is the only one on the planet that does a Secret Santa before Thanksgiving. Principal Burns blows.”
“Can someone give me a five-letter word for grouch, starting with g,” Kristen said, perfecting the bow on her gift. She was the first one ready.
“Grouch,” Dylan shouted, shoving the last bite of her turkey burger in her mouth.
“That’s six letters,” Kristen said, using the Scotch tape to pull blond hair off her black cardigan.
“Groaner?” Claire teased.
Kristen rolled her eyes and giggled.
“I’m not being a grump,” Massie said. “I just don’t like when things are messy, okay?” She started straightening up the area around her, wondering why Alicia hadn’t tried to make up with her yet. Was she really having more fun with Olivia? Why didn’t Alicia miss her?
“There’s a piece of salad caught in your ribbon,” Dylan said, tugging on the leaf inside Kristen’s red bow.
Kristen slapped her hand. “That’s holly. It’s decorative. Don’t eat it.”
“I wasn’t going to eat it.” Dylan sounded offended. “I hate salad. Maybe that’s why I gained five pounds since Halloween.” She pushed up the bell sleeve of her burgundy Diane von Furstenberg dress and reached her arm across Kristen’s plate. She pinched a few of Kristen’s uneaten soy chips, then dropped them in her mouth.
“Mmmm,” Dylan said, letting small pieces of soy fall out of her mouth. “Why not use that on your present too?” She pointed to the crumbs on her thighs.
Kristen shoved a bunch of chips in her own mouth. “Because I’d rather use these,” she said as the crumbs sprayed all over the table.
“Gross.” Claire giggled. She snapped a picture of the girls with her digital camera.
“How’s that low-carb diet going, Dylan?” Massie asked, cutting into a piece of smiley face wrapping paper.
Dylan’s bright green eyes turned flat and dull. “Great.” She smirked. She looked down and flicked a piece of chip off her lap.
“Ewww!” Kristen and Claire screamed. It landed on the edge of Kristen’s Diet Coke can.
“Speaking of EW.” Massie sat up a little taller in her seat. “The plan for revenge on Alicia has been set into motion.”
“Tell us everything.” Dylan pushed her half-wrapped gift aside and leaned forward.
“Yeah, don’t leave one thing out,” Kristen said, twirling a strand of blonde hair around her index finger.
Massie and Claire took turns telling the girls about their phone call with Lucinda, how they pretended to be Alicia and Olivia, the photos they sent in, and the possibility of crashing the Teen Vogue modeling shoot. Massie hadn’t wanted to tell her friends about the plan until she’d spent the weekend finalizing it.
“Lucinda just has to approve our pictures and we’re IN,” Massie said. She couldn’t wait to hear them scream.
“What picture did you send of me?” Dylan said. She was stabbing the leftover sesame seeds on Kristen’s plate with her fingernail.
“That’s all you have to say?” Massie ripped a piece of tape off the spool and stuck it haphazardly to the CD she was wrapping.
“Well, I don’t want them to think I’m faaat,” Dylan said.
“Puh-lease. Do you think I’m a total amateur?” Massie said. “Of course I Photoshopped the pictures before I sent them. We all look ah-mazing.”
“When is the shoot?” Kristen asked. “It’s not on a school night, is it?”
“We thought you’d be excited about this,” Claire said.
Massie was impressed with Claire for chiming in. Obviously she was way more loyal than Alicia.
“I’m fully excited,” Kristen said with a genuine smile. “It’s just that I kinda got this after-school job. …” Her voice drifted off. She gently nudged the holly on her present until it was in the perfect position.
“What? Why do you have an after-school job?” asked Dylan. “What are you doing?”
Kristen displayed her gift like a game show hostess. “Gift wrapping at the mall. It’s just until New Year’s.”
“Why? It’s not like you need the money.” Massie licked a green envelope and sealed her card inside. “Your dad is one of the richest art dealers in the country.”
“It’s not about money; it’s about building character,” Kristen said as she squirmed in her chair, then sat on her hands. “At least that’s what my parents say.”
“My dad says things like that all the time,” Claire said to Kristen.
Kristen winked at Claire, like they shared some kind of secret, but Massie quickly dismissed it. She refused to let her fight with Alicia make her paranoid.
“Your parents can be so ah-nnoying,” Massie said.
Kristen shrugged.
“So Massie, don’t we get two hundred dollars if they pick us?” Claire asked.
“Oh yeah,” Massie said. “I forgot all about that.”<
br />
“That will help your character even more, won’t it, Kristen?” Dylan said.
“At least the job taught me how to wrap,” Kristen said, looking at the crumpled lump of metallic red paper on Dylan’s lunch tray. It looked more like Massie’s sloppy turkey burger than a candle.
Massie was suddenly overcome by a strong whiff of perfume. She leaned across the table and sniffed Dylan’s candle to see if maybe it was scented.
“Get your hands off my present, you big molester,” Dylan said, pinching Massie’s hand.
“Ouch.” Massie laughed, but she wouldn’t let go.
“What’s going on here?” Alicia stood facing Massie at the opposite end of the table. Olivia was beside her and they were both holding a plate of California rolls.
“That explains the stench,” Massie said, taking her hand off Dylan’s present and sitting back in her seat.
Alicia was wearing a tight pink V-necked sweater, a pair of ultra-low-rise Frankie B. jeans, and a ridiculous black mesh tube top around her waist. Olivia was dressed the exact same, only her V-neck was baby blue.
“We should keep wrapping.” Claire looked down at the sparkly orange pencil case on her lap. “The gift exchange is in five minutes.”
“Oops, I totally spaced,” Alicia said. She pulled a chair over from another table and forced her way between Claire and Kristen. She tapped the seat as if to say, “Come share,” and Olivia squeezed in beside her.
Massie was itching to ask them what they were wearing around their butts, but she refused to speak to Alicia until she apologized. She angled her chair so she faced the window behind her.
“Mind if I use some of this?” Olivia asked.
Massie didn’t like not being able to see what Olivia was talking about, so she opened her Chanel compact mirror and acted like she was touching up her cheek tint.
“Go ahead,” Claire said, handing her the tape.
“Thanks.” Olivia pulled a fake Louis Vuitton scarf out of her knockoff Hermès Birkin bag and tossed it on the table.
“Faux-livia,” Alicia said. “Do you have another one of those scarves? I don’t have anything to give—” She pulled an index card out of her pocket and read the name that was written on it. “Emily Esbin.”
Revenge of the Wannabes Page 8