Less than a hundred yards away, Claire tossed and turned. She’d thought reading the OCD School handbook would help her relax and feel more comfortable about her first day of school, but it had the opposite effect. It made her realize how little life in Orlando had prepared her for what she was about to experience.
Certain lines that she’d read in the glossy OCD booklet haunted her like a catchy pop song she couldn’t get out of her head. Like, Fashion is a fine art and a true form of self expression … which is why OCD prides itself on being an anti-uniform private school. It is a given that all students will take matters of personal style and grooming very seriously.
Claire flipped the pillow to the cold side and tried to focus on her breathing: in through the nose, out through the mouth. But visions of the high-powered alumni kept her heart racing. Thirteen Fortune 500 CEOs, seven gold-medal Olympians, four Pulitzer Prize winners, three Oscar winners, two senators, and one secretary of state. She had no idea what the secretary of state even did and prayed she wouldn’t be in the same class as a future one because they’d have absolutely nothing to talk about.
Claire kicked the covers off her legs and jumped out of bed. She took her favorite mushy pillow and crept down the hallway to her brother’s room. The sounds of the house were foreign to her and the creaking wood floors made her uneasy.
Todd was fast asleep on his back, his body diagonal across the entire double bed. Claire thought it was funny to see him buried under the frilly grandma blankets that came with the house, but she was too stressed out to giggle. She gently slid him over to one side of the bed and crawled in. His steady breathing made her feel less alone.
THE GUESTHOUSE KITCHEN
7:20 A.M. September 2nd
A huge lump had set up shop right in the middle of Claire’s throat and she could barely swallow her pancakes. The oval wood breakfast table felt big and impersonal, like everything Claire had experienced so far in Westchester. Todd sat across from her, but he felt ten miles away.
Their old breakfast table in Orlando had been a small Formica square. Everyone had their own side and it was cozy. This table didn’t even have sides.
Unpacked boxes filled the kitchen and the only thing that felt familiar to Claire was the music coming out of the radio—the Westchester version of her mother’s favorite lite FM station, which she insisted on playing whenever she cooked.
“Can’t we just turn it off? This music is so depressing,” Claire said.
“When you have your own house, you can play whatever you want,” Judi said.
“This is hardly your house,” Claire snapped, surprising herself.
Todd looked up at his sister but was too shocked by her comment to pull his arm out of the Raisin Bran box he had been digging through.
“Claire, what is bothering you?” Judi asked.
“Nothing.” Claire swirled her fork around her plate and wrote SOS over and over again in a puddle of maple syrup.
“Then why did you sneak into my room in the middle of the night?” Todd teased.
“Because there was a spider in my bed,” she told him.
“Looks like there was a crab in mine.” Todd grabbed something small and tossed it at Claire. It bounced off her cheek and landed on the floor.
“Ewww, what was that?” Claire puckered her face like she’d been sucking on a lemon.
“Ammo,” Todd whispered, pointing to the Raisin Bran box. “Raisins are great to throw at people in class.” He tapped the side pocket on his cords and Claire knew that meant, “There are more where that came from.”
“I’m sure you’ll be really popular,” Claire said.
“Thanks,” Todd replied with a smug look on his face, not picking up on the sarcasm. “Want some? Maybe you could throw a few at Massie.”
“Why Massie?” Claire said.
“I was listening at the door while you were in her bedroom yesterday,” he said. Todd stood up from the table and contorted his body. He was trying to impersonate Massie, but instead he looked and sounded like a cranky old lady. “My friends and I have our own thing going and you’ll probably feel weird if you try to join in. You know, because we’ve known each other for so long.”
Claire’s face turned red. She couldn’t believe her younger brother had heard her being humiliated like that.
“Todd, go brush your teeth—the bus will be here in five minutes,” Judi said. “We’ll talk about this when you get home.”
Todd bolted out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs two at a time.
Claire scraped the uneaten pancakes into the trash and put her plate in the sink. She checked her pink G-Force watch. It was 7:55 A.M.
Back in Orlando, Sarah and Sari were probably on the school bus heading down Tuscawilla Road, most likely trading stories about the new wakeboarding tricks they’d mastered over the summer. Some new girl was probably screaming because Bobby Dennet hid a frog in her backpack or something, and amid the hysteria Greasy Mitch was yelling, “Shut up or I’ll drive this bus straight into the alligator swamps.” Claire would have given anything to be there.
“Claire, your outfit looks great,” Judi said.
“Thanks,” Claire said. “But do you think it looks fashionable?”
“Sure, white Gap jeans are a classic,” she said. “And your sneakers are brand new and just darling.”
Claire looked at her platform navy Keds. All of her friends at home had the same ones.
“I understand you’re a little nervous because you’re starting a new school, but give it a chance,” Judi said. “And don’t forget, you have Massie on your side.”
“That’s what you think,” Claire said, and then snapped her mouth shut. She walked casually out of the kitchen and into the narrow front hall before her mother could ask what she meant by that.
“Isaac left a message saying you should be outside at eight o’clock, so you’d better go,” Judi said. “Don’t forget your lunch.”
She handed Claire a Powerpuff Girls lunch box. Claire opened it up and put the turkey sandwich, hot Cheetos, and Gummy Feet in her backpack and ditched the empty box on the foyer table. If the rest of the girls acted as grown up as Massie, Claire knew they’d think The Powerpuff girls were K through sixth, not seventh.
Claire felt her mom looking at her with concern.
“Hey, sweetheart. What’s your last name?” Judi asked with a small smile.
“Lyons,” Claire said.
“And what do Lyons do?” Judi prompted.
“Roar,” Claire said.
“I can’t hear you,” Judi said.
“RRROAR!” Claire said. But that old routine felt out-dated and childish in her new home.
“That’s better,” Judi said. She kissed Claire on the forehead and nudged her toward the door.
Claire walked out and something hit her on the back of her head.
“Sure you don’t want some raisins?” Todd yelled. “They can’t hurt.”
“They can if I sit on your chest and force-feed them to your nostrils,” Claire shouted over her shoulder.
Claire wished Massie had heard that one because maybe she’d have been impressed.
She stepped outside the house and inhaled deeply. The smell of cut grass filled the air and the humidity made her think of home. She puffed her bangs up with her fingers and hoped they landed like the even bristles on a paintbrush and not like a pile of pickup sticks. She pulled a tube of grape-scented gloss out of her front pocket and swiped it across her lips.
She knew she had about twenty minutes of alone time in the car with Massie and she wanted everything to be perfect.
Isaac waved hello when he saw Claire across the lawn. He was in the driveway buffing the Blocks’ silver Range Rover. When Claire arrived, he stuffed the rag in his back pocket and opened the door for her.
“Good morning, Claire,” he said with a smile. “Welcome aboard.”
“Thanks, Isaac.” Claire smiled back. She exhaled deeply.
So far, so good.
Claire slid across the black leather interior and noticed that it was just as shiny as the car’s exterior. She settled in and faced forward, but instead of the car’s dashboard, a second row of seats stared back at her. She wanted to stretch out and put her feet on the cushions across from her, but she didn’t want Isaac to think she was rude. She decided to wait and see if Massie did it first.
After looking around, Claire felt more like she was in a limo, not a Range Rover. A glass-fronted fridge stocked with diet soda, Pellegrino, Glaceau Vitamin Water, and fresh seasonal berries hummed in the back right corner and a TV shaped like a cube hung from the roof like a disco ball. It had screens on each side so everyone had a view. The tiny black speakers in every corner only added to Claire’s feeling that her morning commute would be anything but boring. She was so excited, for a minute she forgot to be nervous but was quickly reminded when she saw Massie marching toward the car.
The tinted windows allowed Claire to study Massie’s every move without getting caught.
Massie walked tall and with purpose. Her gaze was fixed, but she didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular.
Claire slid her blond bangs to the side of her forehead to keep the sweat from making them look wet. She envied Massie’s perfect hair, dark, shoulder length, and shiny. The kind that always looks good, even first thing in the morning.
Isaac opened the door and a thick gust of heat rushed in. A strappy, feminine sandal and red toenails were the first things in the car. Then the smell of crisp, sweet perfume filled Claire’s nostrils. A thin arm that looked like it was about to snap under the weight of a cluttered charm bracelet released a denim blazer into the backseat. It landed on Claire’s lap and she quickly placed it neatly beside her. Finally Massie backed herself in and slid across the entire seat. She bumped into Claire’s knee.
“Oh my God!” Massie said. “You scared me. What are you doing in here?”
“What do you mean?” Claire asked. “Your mom said I should ride with you to school.” She quickly thought about how Isaac had greeted her. He’d seemed to know she was coming. “Didn’t she tell you?”
“Sorry,” Massie said. She inched over to the other side. “I must have forgotten.”
“Oh,” Claire said.
Isaac started the engine and both girls studied his every move, as if they’d never seen someone drive a car before. They didn’t know where else to look.
“This sure beats the school bus,” Claire said.
“I wouldn’t know, but I’ll take your word for it,” Massie replied. She looked at the screen of her cell phone. “Claire, you wouldn’t mind sitting in the very back, would you? We have to pick up Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan and I would hate for it to get too squished up here.” Massie looked directly into Claire’s eyes. “I guarantee it will still ‘beat the school bus.’” Her air quotes were sharp and full of attitude.
“Oh, I thought it was just going to be us,” Claire said.
“Why would you think that?” Massie asked.
Claire was too stunned to answer. Instead she did what she was told and crawled over her seat and into the back section of the car, the same one she assumed was for transporting cargo or pets. It only took her a second to notice that her new seat offered an obstructed view of the TV screen and no access to the fridge.
After a few minutes the Range Rover pulled off the road and stopped. Claire felt confused. All she could see were tall iron gates and overgrown bushes behind them. Claire moved closer to the window and squinted so she could figure out what needed so much protecting, but she could only make out a naked woman carved out of stone and a marble fountain.
Claire fished around the inside of her knapsack and pulled out her tiny camera. She snapped a picture of the iron gates and then one of a security guard.
“Claire,” Massie said. She didn’t bother turning around. “This isn’t Epcot.”
Her name came out more like “Kuh-laire” the way Massie said it.
“If the guards know you’re taking pictures of the house, they’ll confiscate your camera and question you for a week straight,” Massie said.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I’ve just never seen anything—”
“Well, don’t advertise it,” Massie said. “Everyone lives like this around here, so you better get used to it.”
Finally a dark-haired girl emerged from behind the gates. She glided toward the car slowly and casually. She didn’t seem the least bit concerned that everyone had been waiting for her. When Claire got a closer look at her, she understood why.
Alicia was the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen. The kind no one ever gets mad at because they don’t want her looking unhappy. Her dark brown eyes sparkled brightly against her perfectly even tan, and her lips were full and cherry red.
“She’s in vintage Ralph Lauren and has the new Prada messenger bag,” Massie said.
“What?” Claire asked. She had no idea what Massie was talking about. She leaned forward and asked again, “What?”
“’Kay, we’ll be at your house in five minutes,” Massie said into her phone. “Bye.” Massie snapped it shut and tossed it in a cup holder.
Claire’s face turned red when she realized that Massie hadn’t been talking to her.
Isaac opened the door and Alicia Rivera slid in beside Massie.
“Heeeyyyyy,” Massie said, squeezing her friend.
Alicia took a long look at Massie.
“Ehmagod, you don’t look like you were sick at all,” Alicia gushed. “You look ah-mazing.”
“Just wait for tomorrow,” Massie said.
“Why?” Alicia asked with a sly grin.
“Because I get better looking every day!” they shouted in unison at the top of their lungs. They cracked up and high-fived each other. Even Claire had to laugh at that one.
Alicia whipped her head around to the back of the car to see where the extra sound came from.
“Who’s the stowaway?” she asked.
“Oh, we’re just giving her a ride today. Her family is staying in our Guesthouse until they can afford a place of their own,” Massie said.
“Hi, I’m Claire,” she said, trying to ignore the sting of Massie’s comment.
“Oh,” Alicia said.
Claire unzipped her knapsack and took out a bag stuffed with gummy worms and sours.
“Want some?” she asked. She used her teeth to untie the tight plastic knot she had made extra tight when she took them out of her lunch box. “I live on them.”
“I stopped eating those around the same time I stopped breastfeeding,” Massie snapped.
“Yeah, and I never started,” Alicia said.
Claire dropped the bag back in her knapsack and tried not to think about how badly she wanted to chew on a sour foot. She leaned her head against the window and counted the trees as they passed by.
The car slowed down in front of a tall white A-frame that sat on top of a small hill. It looked more like a church than someone’s home. This time Claire managed to snap a picture of the manse without getting busted by security or worse—Massie.
Dylan Marvil was perched on the stone steps in front of her house reading Us Weekly and eating a nutrition bar. A thick mass of fiery red hair blew around her pale face, which she was fighting to keep away from her mouth so she could eat. When she saw the Range Rover, she stuffed the magazine in her Louis Vuitton backpack and ran down the remaining steps.
Dylan was at least two inches taller and wider than the other two girls. Claire thought she looked like a girl who’d grown up milking cows or churning butter on a farm.
Dylan’s entrance into the car was a lot less graceful than Alicia’s. The strap on her bag got tangled around the door handle and her left mule slid off her foot and under the car.
“We missed you yesterday,” Dylan said as she hugged Massie. “How are you feeling?”
Massie turned her head slightly toward the backseat. It was the second time she had looked at Claire all mor
ning.
“Better,” Massie said. “So whadja buy?”
“Not much. Just three pairs of jeans, a cashmere sweater I’m not even sure I like, and a couple of Calvin dresses for bar mitzvah season.” She took a brush out of her backpack and worked it through her long hair.
“You should have seen her try to walk in five-inch Manolos,” Alicia said. “Her entire body shook like she was in a giant earthquake.”
Dylan cracked up.
Massie opened the minifridge and looked inside. She seemed just as bored by berries and beverages as she was by her friends talking about their shopping adventures.
“Shut up,” Dylan said. “At least I didn’t get felt up by the bra lady.”
Alicia gave Dylan a wide-eyed look that was one part surprise and two parts amusement. “You promised you weren’t going to tell anyone.”
“I didn’t think you meant Massie,” Dylan said. “Hey, Massie, don’t you think that was worth at least two gossip points?”
“Sorry,” Massie said. “I wasn’t even listening.”
Claire could tell by Massie’s sudden change in mood that she didn’t like feeling left out, almost like she took it personally when people had fun without her.
“Didn’t you get something at the cosmetics counter?” Alicia added.
Dylan shot her a “thanks a lot!” look that Claire noticed all the way from the backseat.
“Oh yeah, I also got an Yves St. Laurent lip marker,” Dylan confessed.
“Oh, like the one I said I wanted?” Massie said coolly. “Be careful, I read they cause cold sores.”
“Come on! Where did you read that?” Dylan said with a tinge of fear in her voice.
“I think it was YM,” Massie said.
Dylan held the back of her silver brush up to her face and tried to catch her reflection. She pressed her tongue against the inside of her top lip so she could get a closer look.
“I don’t see anything,” Dylan said.
“I smell airplane food. Does anyone else smell that?” Massie asked.
“It’s me,” Dylan said. “There’s a Zone lunch in my backpack.”
“When did you start the Zone diet?” Alicia asked. She sounded genuinely interested.
The Clique Page 3