Sealed with a Diss

by Lisi Harrison

  And then there was Todd. A silver canteen was slung across his tan camouflage jumpsuit. Massie had made it perfectly clear that his role in the operation did not require undercover fatigues, yet he’d insisted. And seeing as he was a key player in their scheme, she’d been forced to let it go.

  “Well?” Isaac pressed.

  “Ehmagawd.” Massie slapped a black satin Hermès-gloved hand against her heart. “Do you aw-nestly think his mother would want him going in there alone?” She gasped, as if they were parked outside Dracula’s castle.

  “Point,” Alicia chimed in.

  Massie nudged Claire, whose nose had been pressed up against the window like that of an anxious dog. “Time to get out.”

  “Huh?” Claire managed, her breath steaming up the window.

  “Open the door,” Massie insisted through gritted teeth. “Hurry.” She glanced at Isaac, desperate to get out before he fired off another round of probing questions.

  “Oh, right.” Claire’s blue eyes widened. Encircled by the dark, racoonish rings of MAC’s Carbon shadow, they seemed brighter than usual, like one of Layne’s glow-in-the-dark bedside dolls.

  “Let’s move!” Massie whisper-commanded once the door was open.

  The girls filed out in silence.

  “Meet you in the back lot at eight-thirty.” Massie slammed the door shut. She wanted to take cover behind the Army Guy and review the plan one more time, but Isaac was lingering, so they casually made their way toward the entrance along the wet sidewalk.

  “Why doesn’t he trust us?” Dylan dumped a handful of Milk Duds in her mouth.

  “Because we’re miners.” Layne pointed to her helmet and burst out laughing.

  Claire and Todd giggled. Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan looked at Massie.

  On a normal night, she would have knocked the hat right off Layne’s head and tossed it under the crushing wheels of the Range Rover. But this night was far from normal. Normal would have been a night of goss’n’gloss at Massie’s weekly sleepover. It would not have involved Todd. Or Layne. Or sneaking into Briarwood. Or Isaac rolling protectively alongside them as if they were running some dehydrating school-charity marathon.

  “Is everyone cool with the plan?” Massie asked as she smiled and waved goodbye to her driver as they strolled.

  “When can we take that picture of you kissing me?” Todd smeared original-flavor ChapStick across his brick-red lips. The minty-medicine smell reminded Massie of her grandfather’s back cream.

  “No pictures till we’re done.”

  “You promised if I got you into the school, you’d let me take a—”

  “Are we in the school yet?” Massie waved her black-clad arm through the dark, humid air.

  Todd shook his head, dropped the ChapStick in his deep back pocket, folded his arms across his chest, and gazed into the moonless sky.

  Massie sighed. “Is everyone cool with the plan?”

  “Cool,” they all answered back.

  “Then let’s move.”

  Dozens of evenly spaced lampposts cast ivory circles across the grounds like a giant pearl necklace. It was the first time Massie had seen Briarwood after dark for something other than a fund-raising gala, and the reality was shocking. It was kind of like seeing an A-list actress in Us Weekly without makeup. With the lights off, the old buildings looked drab, sleepy, and slightly crazy. The rooftop wave pool, which was now covered by a big white bubble, looked like an overgrown water blister in need of a good pop. Only a dim yellow glow to the right of the oak doors, which blurred against the mist, loomed from the headmaster’s office.

  Massie led them up the steps to the main building and tried the door. Even though it was locked, she turned to give the thumbs-up to Isaac, who finally stepped on the gas and drove to the back lot.

  “Ready, Layne?”

  “Ready.” She unwrapped a Slim Jim and handed it to Todd.

  “Ready, Todd?”

  He unscrewed the metal top on his canteen, threw back his head, and took a long swig. “Ahhhhhhh. Ready.” He wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand and then winked. “This is for you, sweet cheeks. In case I don’t make it back.”

  Todd lifted the canteen over his head and lowered it over Massie’s shoulders.

  “Ew.” She batted it away. “Get it offa me.”

  She was about to rope it around his neck, but it was too late. Todd had turned to the tall wood doors and started banging.

  “Stage one of the plan has been activated,” Massie announced.

  “Let me in! Please let me in.”

  The girls raced down the steps and hid in the shrubs, where the rain had kicked up the earthy smell of soil and leaves. Surrounded by darkness and heavy breathing, Massie fought the urge to imagine that she was being buried alive.

  “Let me in! Please let me in,” continued Todd. After a solid minute of bang-shouting, the doors clicked open.

  The wrinkled night janitor popped his head out the door, smoothed a flap of greasy gray hair to the left side of his head, then cleared his throat. “Whatcha want?”

  “I forgot my science book, and I have a big test on Mon-day. Can I just—”

  “School’s closed.”

  “But I need to get to my locker.”

  “Monday.” The janitor shut the door.

  Massie sent telepathic messages to Todd and marked them urgent.

  Flatter him.

  Threaten a lawsuit.

  Kick him.

  But Todd just stood there, chewing his bottom lip, as if looking pathetic and desperate might actually work.

  “Ugh, why did I ever trust him?” Massie whipped his canteen into the bushes.

  “He’s doing exactly what you told him to do,” Claire defended her little brother.

  “I didn’t tell him to buckle like a cheap sandal.”

  “Payless,” Dylan burped.

  “Shhhhhh,” everyone whisper-giggled.

  “Why was her burp funny and my miners joke wasn’t?” Layne sounded genuinely confused.

  “Shhhhh,” they hissed.

  “Wait!” Todd jammed his hiking boot in the doorway right before it closed. “I have a note.”

  “What?” Massie gasped from the bushes. “I never approved a note.”

  Todd reached into his side pocket and pulled out a lavender Marc Jacobs single-buckle coin purse.

  Massie clutched the back pocket on her black Sass & Bides. “Ehmagawd!”

  “Hey,” Alicia whispered. “Isn’t that your—”

  “Yes!”

  Todd unzipped the top and reached inside. “My note is from Mr. Franklin.” He waved a crisp bill in front of the janitor’s face like a victory flag. “And he has one hundred reasons why you should let me in.”

  The janitor snatched the bill from Todd’s fingers and opened the door.

  Massie air-clapped.

  Dylan parted the bushes with both hands. “There he goes.”

  Todd jammed the Slim Jim between the two doors to keep them from locking once he stepped inside.

  “Phase two, activated.”

  “Perfect.” Massie air-clapped. “Come awn.”

  The girls crept up the steps and clustered behind Massie while she peered inside. The halls smelled like boy sweat and sneakers.

  Hand-painted posters wishing fellow Briarwoodies a safe summer vacation made Massie’s stomach dip. It was hard to believe the school year was almost over.

  In the past, “over” had meant another job well done. Funfilled memories. Hope for the future. But these days, “over” was starting to feel like plain old… over. As in Derrington thinking she was perfect was over. As in Skye and Chris were over. As in getting the key to the bomb shelter was over. As in dominating the eighth grade was over. As in Massie Block was over.

  “Now where?”

  “Sharp left up stairwell C. Top floor. East wing. Last room on the right.” Kristen folded the napkin-map Todd had drawn for them with Massie’s gray Nars eyeliner and jammed it int
o her black sock.

  Massie gestured for them to follow her. After a single step, a bright light seared her eyeballs. She gasped. Who was it?

  Isaac? The janitor? Campus security? Headmaster Adams? Dracula?

  Either way, it meant the end of their mission and the start of her social demise.

  “Why are we stopping?” whispered Layne. She searched the halls, taking the blinding beam with her.

  “Ehmagawd, is that your hat?”

  Layne turned to answer Massie, rendering her sightless once again.

  “You should probably turn that off.” Claire stepped in, obviously trying to prevent a smackdown.

  There was a quick click and then darkness.

  “Good. Now let’s go!”

  “Slow down,” Alicia whisper-shouted. “You know I can’t run.”

  “Shhhhhhh,” the girls hissed back.

  Everyone stopped in front of the windowless wood door at the very end of the hall. Panting, the girls huddled around the locked knob, wondering what to do next.

  Massie signaled Layne with a sharp nod.

  Layne nodded back and then reached into her tool belt and pulled out a long necklace. It was made of different-size paper clips in an assortment of bright colors. “May I?” She pointed to her hat.

  Massie checked over her shoulder and then nodded again. The light flicked on.

  “Give her room.” Massie pulled the girls away from the door. First, Layne tried the small pink paper clip, then a medium white, a large green, a large silver, a small gold.… She finally found success with a jumbo metallic blue.

  The door clicked open and the girls hurried inside. Layne clicked off her light.

  Arranged in their usual semicircle configuration, the chairs faced a pea-green upholstered La-Z-Boy, which was occupied by the baby-blue Share Bear. Being there in person made Massie think of the first time she’d visited Dylan’s mom at the Daily Grind studio. It had seemed smaller, less intimidating than it did on TV.

  “It nice to finally see this place in color,” Alicia noted.

  “You’ve seen this room before?” asked Layne.

  “I mean,” Alicia stammered, realizing her slip, “I mean, ’cause I got new color contacts, so now I can see color better.”

  “What?” Layne giggle-snorted.

  “Hey, I thought I told you no questions,” Massie hissed.

  “Layne, come look at this library,” Claire shouted from the back of the room. “Don’t you collect self-help books?”

  “No.” Layne rolled her eyes. “Now, if I have this right, I am looking for a hidden camera, correct?”

  “No, we know where the camera is.” Massie sat in one of the chairs and crossed her legs.

  “Where?”

  “I said no questions,” Massie snapped. “All you need to do is help us find the thing that makes the camera work.”

  “You mean the transmitter?”

  “Whatevs.” Massie slipped off her gloves.

  “Well, those are usually hidden in walls.” Layne flicked on her helmet light. “So everyone take a wall and start tapping. If it sounds hollow, move on.” She pulled out a stethoscope, popped the ends in her ears, and pressed the chest piece against the eggshell-colored paint. “I’m only interested in areas of extreme density. Something that might suggest an inner panel of wires, cables, and/or high-speed—”

  “Um, s’cuse me?” Massie cocked her brows. “Who made you alpha?”

  Layne yanked the stethoscope from her ears, letting it dangle around her long neck. She turned to Massie, blinding her once again. “You did, when you gave me a video iPod and begged me to fix your mysterious don’t-ask-me-any-questions camera. Now can we please get on with it? I’m playing e-chess with a Russian composer at ten.”

  Massie stood, silently vowing to stuff Layne in the compost bin as soon as this was over.

  “Did you find anything yet?” Claire asked as she knocked on the back wall, which was covered in posters.

  “Shhhh,” Layne urged.

  “Do you think this is going to work?”

  “Shhhh!” Layne tapped her way across the empty wall to the left of the door.

  “If this doesn’t work, Cam and I are over,” mumbled Claire.

  “It better work.” Massie fanned her cheeks with her gloves and crossed her other leg. “I need to know what lies Derrington’s been spreading about me.”

  “Do you think we can still find a way to be eighth-grade boy experts without it?” asked Kristen, while tapping the chalkboard.

  “Opposite of yes,” muttered Alicia, who was walking along the windows, her hand cupped over her ear as though she were listening to a secret.

  “Do you think Skye will blame the broken camera on us?” Kristen asked.

  “Opposite of I hope so.”

  “Quiet, I hear something,” Dylan whisper-shouted from the far corner of the room.

  Layne hurried over and placed her stethoscope on the wall next to Dylan’s hand.

  “No, not there.” Dylan pressed the chest piece against her stomach. “Here. Listen to that rumbling. I’m starving.”

  Layne pulled a Slim Jim out of her pocket and whipped it at Dylan.

  “Just because your life isn’t falling apart doesn’t mean—”

  “Relax, Kuh-laire.” Dylan took a bite of the shriveled pepperoni stick. “Maybe if you loosened up and got in touch with your masculine side, this wouldn’t be happening.”

  “This has nothing to do with—”

  “Enough!” Layne snapped. “I’ve got something.” She palmed the wall like a mime, higher and higher until she was balancing on her tippiest of tiptoes. “Someone bring me that chair!”

  The Pretty Committee stared at her, refusing to take orders from an LBR, no matter how tech-savvy she might be.

  “Hurry!” She upped her light to a brighter setting.

  Claire dragged the chair to Layne and then handed her the blue Share Bear.

  “Get this stupid thing outta my way.” Layne whipped it across the room. Kristen intercepted it, head-butted it twice, then caught it World Cup–style. “If I can just get up to the ceiling, I think I can get to the main circuit breaker.”

  “The ceiling?” shrieked Kristen. “Since when are circuit breakers in the ceiling?”

  “Um, why do you think they’re called ‘breakers’?” Layne asked.

  The girls shrugged.

  “Because people kept breaking them,” she explained with a condescending eye roll. “That’s why they moved them to the ceiling. To keep them safe.” Layne stepped onto the arms of the chair for maximum height. Once steady, she pulled a mini pink drill from her tool belt, switched it on, and lifted the spinning spike above her head. “Can I get some spotters, please?”

  Everyone gathered around the chair except Kristen, who was examining the Share Bear.

  Layne began to drill.

  Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

  Massie grit her teeth against the sound, hoping to gawd it would not betray them.

  Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

  Zzzzzzzzzzzz.

  Zzzzzzz-ping!

  “What was that?” Massie gasped.

  “I hit something metal.” Layne wiped her forehead. “Probably an I-beam.”

  She drilled again.

  Zzzzzzzzz.

  Zzzzzzzzz.

  Zzzzzzz-hisssss.

  A light mist sprayed down on her hat, beaded off the plastic, and dripped onto the chair.

  “Water pipe.” She lowered her drill and rubbed her chin in confusion. “Let’s move five paces left.” She jumped to the ground.

  “Maybe these are dead.” Kristen held the Share Bear in one hand and two AA Duracell batteries in the other.

  “Ehmagawd.” Dylan covered her mouth for the first time all week.

  The bottoms of Massie’s feet tingled. Without a second thought, she grabbed Layne’s helmet off her head and slid open the battery compartment. Two AA batteries rolled into her sweaty palms. She handed them to Kristen, who snappe
d them into place and slid the plastic cover back on the Share Bear’s butt.

  Claire chewed her thumbnail and toe-bounced with anticipation.

  Kristen closed her eyes and flicked the switch. A green light popped on.

  “Yes!” Massie and Claire hugged. Then they pulled in Kristen. Then Dylan.

  Just then, the mist from the ceiling turned to drops.

  “Told you I could help,” Layne mumbled from outside the circle. “Don’t worry about replacing the batteries. They’re on me.”

  Then the drops turned to drizzle.

  “What’s that?” Dylan asked.

  “Just some runoff from the pipes.” Layne stuffed her drill back in her tool belt. “Unfortunately, it’s typical in these pre-war buildings.” Claire wanted to question Layne’s runoff theory. But for the first time in a week something had gone her way, and she wasn’t about to let a little thing like a leaky roof put a damper on things. As far as she could see, this problem was like wearing last year’s jeans to a birthday party.

  In a few days, all would be forgotten.

  –-Original Message–—

  Sent: Saturday, May 1, 7:02 a.m.

  From: Massie Block

  To: The Pretty Committee

  Subject: Party prep schedule

  Wake up already!!!!! Come awn! How can you sleep when the hottest party of the year (not including the Oscars but yes, including the Golden Globes) is only 12 hours away?

  Here is the prep schedule. Obey it or go bald.

  Kristen shoots video. (We must document this day)

  9:30 a.m. Meet at Block estate.

  Clothes: Mall sweats/tank (No black. I’m wearing black).

  Footwear: Knit Uggs, Havaianas flip-flops, Keds for you-know-who.

  Remember: Bring your own socks if you plan on buying shoes. Avoid borrowing the “sock of shame” at all costs. Those weird skin-colored tights carry foot lice. I read it in Cosmo.

  9:45 a.m. Stop at Sixbucks for ff lattes and scones.

  10:00 a.m. Isaac drops us at the mall.

  Claire shoots video.

  10:03 a.m. Shop for costumes.

  Alicia shoots video.

  11:30 a.m. Lunch @ Zodiac (mmmm, lump crab salad ).

  Dylan shoots video.

  12:35 p.m. More shopping.