“Why don’t you give her that stupid girdle you’re wearing?” Kristen said.
Massie laughed with the others.
“FYI, this is a Dixon. We got them from the fashion editor at Teen Vogue. Avril will be wearing one on the February cover. You’ll see—they’re going to be huge.” Alicia poked her pinky through one of the holes in the mesh.
“There are fifty-eight ways to wear it,” Olivia added.
“Fifty-nine if you count stuffing it up your butt,” Dylan said.
Everyone laughed again, but Alicia ignored their jabs.
“Of course, you would know all of this if any one of you bothered asking me how our interview was,” Alicia said, popping one of her California rolls in her mouth.
No one asked for a single detail. Not even Claire, and Massie was grateful. Why give Alicia the satisfaction?
“So Faux-livia, can I have one of those scarves?” Alicia asked.
Massie’s ears perked up. Why was Alicia calling Olivia “Faux-livia”? Was it an inside joke? How close were they?
“I only have one,” Olivia said to Alicia. “The rest are at home.”
“Can I have yours?” Alicia asked sweetly.
“No! I have to give it to Thao Luu.”
“I’ll tell everyone why you’re called Faux-livia,” Alicia threatened. “Then no one will want your scarves.”
“You wouldn’t! Would you?”
Alicia raised her eyebrows and nodded, yes.
Olivia dropped the scarf on Alicia’s lap, then slid down the back of her chair. Massie couldn’t believe Alicia bossed Olivia around like that. Bossing was her thing.
Alicia reached across the table and grabbed the plastic salt and pepper shakers. She slammed them down in front of Olivia. “Here, give these to Thao.”
Faux took the shakers and without saying a word began rolling them up in a long strip of wrapping paper.
“You look like you’re making sushi,” Alicia said with a giggle. Olivia ignored her and kept trying to wrap the oblong shakers, but every time she moved them, little hills of salt and pepper would fall out.
“Ugh!” she shouted. “Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”
“Stop whining!” Kristen grabbed the shakers away from Olivia. She covered the holes with a piece of tape, then finished the wrapping job herself.
“Have you been hanging with 50 Cent lately?” Alicia asked Kristen.
“No.”
“Then where did you learn to rap?” Alicia leaned back and locked her hands behind her head.
Olivia and Claire laughed. Kristen rolled her eyes and Massie felt her spine stiffen. It was one thing for Alicia to steal first prize in the uniform contest or to start her own Friday night sleepovers, but copying Massie’s humor was inexcusable.
“Alicia, are you a poor dressmaker?” Massie asked without turning around.
“No,” Alicia said.
“Then why are you ripping off my material?”
Kristen and Dylan burst out laughing. Claire giggled softly.
Alicia ignored them. “So Kuh-laire, where’s Layne Abeley? Don’t you usually eat at her table?”
Massie wasn’t surprised Alicia was attacking Claire. She was the weakest in the group and an obvious choice. It was what she would have done.
“Layne is at the orthodontist,” Claire said softly. “So Massie said I could sit here today.”
“Oh, well, I’m glad,” Alicia said. “Because I have some gossip for you. It’s worth at least twenty-five points.”
Massie stopped breathing for a second. No one ever got that many points for one piece of gossip. This had to be big.
“You know Cam Fisher? The cute Briarwood boy with the two different-colored eyes?”
“Yeah,” Massie blurted.
“I was talking to Kuh-laire,” Alicia said. “Well—”
Massie could feel her heart racing. Just hearing his name gave her a physical reaction. She knocked a scrap of paper onto the ground, then bent over to pick it up. She casually turned to face Alicia.
“He likes you, Claire, and wants to start hanging out with you.” Then Alicia looked straight at Massie. “Alone.”
Massie slammed her hands on the table and leaned forward. Alicia must have heard wrong. …
“How do you know?” Claire asked, her face beaming with excitement.
“Wait, Cam likes Kuh-laire?” Massie barked.
“Yup.” Alicia got up and sat on the edge of the table. She crossed her legs and leaned back.
Massie thought about shoving her onto the ground, hoping it would get rid of that cocky smile on her face. “Source?” she asked.
“Cam told me himself, Saturday after the soccer game. Didn’t he, Faux-livia?”
“Yup.” Olivia nodded.
The more Massie thought about it, the more Alicia’s words made sense. Claire did say Cam left a bag of gummy feet under her seat. But the whole time Massie assumed that they had been for her and that Claire had just stumbled upon them by accident. And after the game, when he came over to talk to them … had he really come to see Claire? Was it possible? Even though she showed him her roundhouse?
“So Claire, are you totally shocked and excited?” Alicia said.
“I am,” Massie blurted.
Claire giggled. “I wanted to tell you, but I could never get you alone.”
“That’s funny,” Alicia said. “Because Cam said he could never get you alone, Claire. He said Massie always shows up and gets in the way every time he tries to talk to you.”
Massie felt like Alicia had just kicked her in the stomach with her hideous square-toed boots. She could barely choke down her own breath. Every time she tried, her mouth got drier. Her ears started ringing and the voices in the Café were starting to sound tinny and hollow. Massie wanted to run away and scream, but everyone was looking at her, waiting for her reaction.
“Look.” Claire reached into her backpack and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She handed it to Alicia. “It’s the first note Cam ever wrote to me. He gave it to me after we lost the uniform design contest. I take it everywhere.”
Massie took a sip of Diet Coke while she watched Alicia unfold the note. She took another sip while Alicia read it aloud.
“Dear Claire, you must have really hated the CD I made you, cuz you never got back to me about the movie. Anyway, I thought your uniform was awesome and I think you should have won.—Cam. P.S., the Keds were a cool touch.” Alicia pressed the open note against her chest and shook her head slowly. “He is so sweet. But remind me to kill him for saying you should have won the contest.” She forced a playful smile.
“He is a door and a ball,” Kristen said.
“What?” Dylan hissed.
“A-door-a-ball.” Kristen grinned.
“I love that,” Dylan said.
Massie reached for the pug charm on her bracelet and held it tight, wishing the real Bean were there with her.
“So did you ever go to the movie with him?” Olivia asked.
“No, not yet.” Claire lifted the hood of her fuchsia Gap sweater over her head. “But he keeps asking me.”
Massie watched Claire squirm and fidget and wondered how Cam could possibly find her more attractive. It wasn’t that Claire wasn’t cute; she was. Massie just always thought of herself as cuter. But maybe she wasn’t. …
“Uh, excuse me,” Massie said, snapping her fingers in the air. “Attention, please. I hate to say this, because Cam is a nice guy, but he’s a major EW.”
Claire took her note back from Alicia and stuffed it in her bag.
“I mean, he’s such an eternal Harris wannabe.” Massie leaned forward in her chair and glared at Dylan.
“You’re right,” Dylan said. “He is like a total highlight/copy/paste of his older brother: the leather jacket, the Strokes obsession, and his green eye are all one hundred percent Harris.”
“And there’s nothing more pathetic than a wannabe,” Massie said, turning to Alicia.
“But he’s so
sweet,” Claire said.
“So is Equal, but it’s not the real thing,” Massie said. “You deserve someone special. Not a cheap knockoff.”
Claire brought her thumb to her mouth and started chewing on her nail. Massie felt a little guilty about hurting Claire, but she was determined to wipe the smug look off Alicia’s face.
“Claire, there are tons of cute boys at Briarwood, with personalities of their own,” Massie said. “I’ll totally introduce you.”
“Puh-lease, Cam totally has his own personality,” Alicia said, pulling up the low neck of her sweater. “Harris never played soccer.”
“I know. Harris played lacrosse,” Massie said. “Cam tried out for lacrosse but never made the team.” She sat on her hands so no one would see that her fingers were crossed.
“You’re just jealous,” Alicia said to Massie. “I saw you flirting with him after the soccer game.”
“I wasn’t flirting with him,” Massie hissed. Her heartbeat quickened.
“You showed him your roundhouse,” Alicia said.
Massie gasped. “I did not!”
“Ehmagawd, you did show him your roundhouse,” Dylan said.
“But that doesn’t mean anything,” Kristen said. “Does it, Massie?”
“Of course not—that mating call is so dead to me,” Massie said.
“Claire, stop biting.” Alicia knocked Claire’s thumb out of her mouth. “This is all very simple.”
Alicia slid off the edge of the table and slowly walked over to Massie. “Cam likes Claire. Claire likes Cam.” She stood over Massie’s chair. Her arms were folded across her chest. “And no one likes a sore loser. So accept it, Massie, and let Claire find a little happiness.”
Massie stood up and looked into Alicia’s big brown eyes. “Alicia, if I liked Cam, I would be hanging out with Cam.” She tried her best to control her shaky voice. “Besides, Cam has BO.” Massie dropped back down into her seat. She ripped a few scraps of wrapping paper before she looked across the table. “Kuh-laire, if you like Cam, don’t let me stand in your way.”
An expression of relief washed over Claire’s face.
“But—” Massie looked straight into Claire’s wide blue eyes. “If you do end up hanging out with him, don’t bother talking to me. I don’t want one of my best friends associated with an EW. It makes me look trashy.”
Claire sighed anxiously and pulled on her bangs.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Alicia said to Claire. “Massie’s just jealous because she likes Cam.”
Claire placed her palm on the table and dragged a red ribbon scrap toward her. Her bottom lip stuck out while she looked down and tied it into a knot.
Alicia rolled her eyes. “Let’s go, Faux.”
“Massie, will you introduce me to some cute Briarwood boys too?” Olivia said.
“Sure,” Massie said with fake enthusiasm. “Once we’re friends.”
“Come on.” Alicia grabbed Olivia by the arm and pulled her away.
Suddenly a voice bleated over the loudspeaker, saving Massie from having to answer any questions.
“What’s up, OCD, this is Comma Dee letting you know that it’s time for the Give Thanks on Thanksgiving gift exchange. Please take all of your prezzys to the auditorium so we can get started. …”
Kristen, Dylan, and Claire grabbed their gifts off the table and stood up. Massie stayed seated.
“Hey, here’s one for ya. … What part of the turkey does Snoop Dogg love to eat? … Give up? …”
“You coming?” Claire asked Massie. She sounded tired.
“Yeah.” Massie stood up. Her legs felt like lead.
“The GRIZZLE … Snoop loves to eat The Grizzle. Get it?”
Everyone groaned when they heard Comma Dee’s corny punch line.
“That girl is such a loser,” Dylan said.
I know,” Kristen agreed. “She actually thinks people like her.”
Massie walked a few paces behind her friends, wondering if one day people would be saying that about her.
THE BLOCK ESTATE GLU HEADQUARTERS
7:55 PM
November 17th
Claire loved the rich woodsy smell of cedar in the Blocks’ old horse barn. But she had been painting in there for over an hour and a sharp, pungent odor hovered in the air like a noxious cloud. Massie opened a window, but all that did was let in the cold.
“How’s everyone doing?” Massie asked, taking a step back to survey the freshly painted wall.
“Good,” Kristen said from the top of her stepladder.
Dylan nodded while she tightened the Pucci scarf around her head.
“I’m almost done,” Claire said, dipping her brush in paint. She tapped it against the side of the can, then lifted it to the wall.
Claire knew what they were about to do was wrong. But she couldn’t turn back now. Massie would never invite her to do anything with them again.
“Shoot,” Claire said looking at her shoe. “I just dripped paint on my white Keds.”
“Looks like you’ll finally have to get rid of those,” Massie said with a teasing smile.
“Why? Your clothes have paint all over them,” Claire said, referring to Massie’s blotchy turquoise outfit.
“Yeah, but they’re supposed to be like this. These are my Primp Splatter Sweats; I bought them for the occasion.” Massie ran her hand over the unicorn patch that had been sewed to the front. “And by the way, these stains are bleach, not paint.”
“I can’t believe your mom is letting us paint the walls,” Kristen said, wiping her hands on her old gray soccer sweats. “My parents would never let me do this.”
“It’s part of her self-help homework,” Massie said, reaching for her Dr. Juice. The clear plastic cup had Power written across it in big black letters. The protein-omega-3-banana-soy blend was her new favorite. “Everyone in her book club has to do something this week that shows they can ‘let go.’ So she said we could paint the walls.”
“My mom said she’s only letting us do this because they’re putting mirrors on the walls in a couple of weeks,” Claire said.
“Yeah, but until then this place is all ours,” Massie said. “And I am officially declaring it GLU headquarters.” She raised her juice and the girls cheered. “Ehmagawd, it’s eight o’clock. Lucinda said she’d know by now if we got the modeling jobs.” Massie flicked open her Motorola. Another purple rhinestone fell off and bounced along the hardwood floors. “I am so getting a new phone. This one isn’t responding well to my jewels.”
Massie’s amber eyes shifted back and forth while she listened to her messages. “Alicia called to say she’s going to be here at eight-thirty,” she reported. “That means we have to hurry up and finishing painting.” Massie hit delete and Claire watched her eyes shift again while she listened to the next message.
“It’s Lucinda,” Massie shouted. The girls jumped off their stepladders and grabbed each other’s hands like finalists on America’s Next Top Model.
“IN!” Massie snapped her phone shut.
Claire had waited months to hear that word.
“We’re gonna be models.” Dylan was so excited she actually tackled Massie. They fell to the ground and landed on a dusty drop cloth, laughing hysterically.
“Go to hell, Gisele!” Kristen shouted as she dove on top of them.
“Walk the planks, Tyra Banks,” Claire shouted before she joined the giddy pile.
“I am so starting a raw food diet,” Dylan announced as she stood up and wiped the dust off her mother’s old maternity caftan.
Dylan’s serious tone was an instant buzz kill. Everyone got off the floor, smoothed her hair, and got down to business.
“Did she say when it was?” Kristen asked, opening her day planner.
“December sixth,” Massie said.
“Cool, I already have that weekend off,” Kristen said.
“Be careful. Something might happen to your character if you’re not wrapping presents for a few days,” M
assie said.
Kristen rolled her eyes and slapped her planner shut.
Everyone laughed at Massie’s joke and Claire was relieved when Kristen joined them. She was the only one who knew that Kristen’s family was poor and that Kristen was extra sensitive to the comments people made about money when she was in the room.
Claire remembered the day she snuck onto Massie’s computer and got Kristen to confess over IM. Of course, Kristen thought she was confiding in Massie. When she finally found out it was Claire, Kristen begged her not to tell anyone. After that Claire had promised herself she’d never do anything mean or sneaky again. But the paint on her shoe reminded Claire that she was going back on her promise. She stared at the purple stain and sighed. This would be the very last time. …
“Wait until the boys at Briarwood find out we’re going to be models,” Kristen said. “Our stock is gonna go way up.”
“Now that it’s official, I can’t wait to tell Cam.” Claire tugged on the strap of her overalls. “I can’t wait to see his face when—”
Massie shot Claire a stern look and Kristen and Dylan rushed to Massie’s side. Claire could feel her heart starting to pound.
“So you’re choosing Cam over us?” Massie’s question sounded more like a statement.
“No, not at all.” Claire hated herself for mentioning Cam. She had done such a good job keeping their recent e-mails a secret and she’d just snitched on herself. “You didn’t let me finish.” Her armpits were starting to sweat. “I was going to say, I can’t wait to tell him, but I won’t because I don’t talk to him anymore.” Claire searched Massie’s face to see if she believed her. “I swear. We are so done.”
Massie held out her palm.
“What?” Claire said, biting her thumbnail.
“Give me the note,” Massie said, wiggling her fingers.
“Why?” Claire felt her stomach lock.
“Prove that you are done with him and give me the note,” Massie said.
Claire felt like the room was spinning. She wished she could think of something that would convince Massie to let her keep the note. But nothing came.
Claire grabbed her backpack off the floor and reached inside slowly. She moved her hand around the bottom of the bag like she couldn’t find it.
Revenge of the Wannabes Page 9