The Clique

by Lisi Harrison

  Massie motioned for Bean to stay close so she wouldn’t get trampled as they made their way through the thick crowd. She was grateful for the mass of people that stood between her and Chris Abeley because it kept him from noticing her heels getting stuck in the grass every time she took a step. At one point she moved forward, but her Choo stayed firmly planted in the mud. She walked the rest of the way on her tiptoes.

  Massie reached down and picked Bean up in her arms so the dog could finally meet Chris Abeley. She pushed her way into his circle and was disappointed to find Bean taking a greater interest in Claire’s bag of gummies than in Chris.

  “This must be Bean,” Chris Abeley said.

  “That’s right.” Massie waved Bean’s front paw at Chris. “Say hello, Bean.” She could smell his familiar scent of deodorant and fabric softener.

  She wished they had plans to ride the next day, but they didn’t.

  “Layne, are you up for another riding lesson tomorrow?” Massie asked while looking at Chris.

  Layne exchanged a confident look with Claire before answering.

  “No, Claire and I are going to the movies.” Layne dipped her hand in Claire’s sweaty bag of gummies and slurped a worm into her mouth like it was a piece of spaghetti.

  “Good, ’cause you sucked,” Massie said under her breath.

  “I heard that,” Layne said.

  “Oh, by the way, here’s your hat back,” Massie said. “Sorry I had it so long.”

  Chris took the hat and contorted his face. “Smell all that perfume?” he said. “I swear some of the old ladies around here have no idea when to stop.”

  Alicia, Dylan, and Kristen sauntered into the tent and beelined straight for the band to make a request.

  “Are you going to be here for a minute?” Massie asked Chris. “There are a few people I’d like to bring over for you to meet.” She turned to walk toward her friends, but Layne stopped her.

  “Wait, before you go, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Layne looked past Massie and fixed her gaze on a perfect-looking blonde dressed in head to toe Calvin. She was standing just outside their circle, talking to a group of high school girls. The glowing paper lanterns that hung down from the inside of the tent cast a warm glow on her perfect Clean and Clear commercial skin.

  “Fawn,” Layne said. “I’d like to introduce you to Massie Block.”

  T he girl turned her head like she was in slow motion, and it seemed like someone had suddenly hit the mute button on the conversations and laughter that had been building around her.

  Fawn extended her deeply tanned arm so she could shake Massie’s hand.

  “You have an amazing house,” Fawn said as they shook.

  “Thanks,” Massie said.

  “Fawn is Chris’s girlfriend,” Layne announced

  Massie heard Claire giggle.

  “They’ve been dating since the seventh grade,” Layne added.

  “Massie’s going to teach you how to ride next.” Chris gave Fawn a squeeze around her tiny waist when he said it. “Maybe we can all go tomorrow?”

  “Maybe,” Massie said. She checked her shoe to make sure it wasn’t stuck in the grass so she could make a quick getaway. “Let’s talk in the morning. I may have plans in the city, but I’ll let you know.”

  Massie gently put Bean on the grass and tiptoed away as quickly as she could.

  “Oh, it was nice meeting you, Dawn,” she called back over her shoulder.

  Massie had ten steps left to figure out what she would tell her friends when they asked her to introduce them to Chris Abeley—who, by the way, would be known as Chris because he was no longer worthy of firsty-lasty status. Massie hated to lose. Losing made her sick, but even she knew it could have been worse. If she had to lose to someone, Massie was glad it was Fawn and not, say, Claire.

  “I saw you talking to Chris Abeley back there,” Alicia teased. “He is such a babe.”

  “Correction—Chris was such a babe,” Massie said. “He’s done.”

  “Why?” Dylan squealed.

  Massie leaned in and the rest of the girls followed.

  “I was telling him about that crazy waiter we always get at Panache and he started laughing so hard a booger flew out of his nose and landed on his sleeve,” Massie said.

  “EEEEEwwwwww,” they yelled.

  “Shhhhh,” Massie snapped. “I don’t want him to know I’m telling you.”

  “What did you do?” Kristen asked.

  “I didn’t want to embarrass the poor guy, so I pretended I didn’t notice, but I was totally grossed.”

  “Anyway, it looks like that blonde girl is trying to come on to him,” Dylan said.

  “Good, she can have him,” Massie said. “I’ve missed out on a lot of shopping trips because of him.”

  “Yeah, you have a lot of catching up to do,” Dylan said.

  “In more ways than one.” Alicia was looking at the group of four Briarwood boys that was headed their way. She slowly hooked her hair behind one ear and tilted her head so she could keep tabs on the boys without looking like she was.

  “Incoming,” Dylan said. “I call the one in the yellow tie.”

  “Wait, I know him,” Kristen said. “Isn’t that Ben?”

  “Ben who?” Dylan asked. There was a trace of jealousy in her voice.

  “Ben Zoyl Peroxide,” Kristen said.

  The girls burst out laughing.

  “Gross! His face looks like it’s covered in stucco,” Alicia said.

  “Ewww, it does.” Dylan said. “I’m so breaking up with him.”

  “Now’s your chance,” Alicia said. “He’s heading straight for us.”

  “So are his ah-dorable friends,” Massie said.

  She turned her back toward them and swiped some gloss across her lips.

  When she turned around again, she spoke with renewed self-confidence, almost like her battery had been recharged.

  “We have to look like we’re having fun,” she said. “So when I count to three, everyone start laughing. Ready? One … two … three.”

  THE BLOCK ESTATE THE BACKYARD

  9:03 P.M. October 3rd

  Thank God I wore cowboy boots, Claire thought as she watched Massie stumble across the grass and almost bump into a small hors d’oeuvres table. Layne was telling her about the time she walked in on Fawn and Chris making out, but Claire was more interested in Massie and what she was telling her friends, who were huddled close together near the dance floor.

  A group of boys cautiously inched their way across the tent toward the girls. They saw the boys coming but pretended they were laughing too hard to care.

  Claire was happy she and Layne were friends again, but she couldn’t help feeling that she was missing out on something bigger. She shook the thought from her head and tried to tune back into Layne.

  “Were the lights off or on?” Claire asked.

  “Off, but the TV was on, so I could see everything,” Layne said.

  The band busted into a rendition of “We Are Family,” by Sister Sledge, and Claire watched as the boys got up the nerve to ask Massie and her friends to dance. Claire couldn’t tell if the girls were happy to be asked or embarrassed, because they whispered to each other the whole time.

  “Why doesn’t anyone ask us to dance?” Claire asked Layne.

  Layne turned to face Claire and bowed deeply. “Claire, would you like to dance?”

  “That’s not exactly what I had in mind. But okay,” Claire said.

  They exploded onto the floor and incorporated every move they had ever seen into their routines. Pirouettes, leaps, kick-ball changes, and popping were all represented. A crowd of onlookers gathered around them, laughing at their moves in a good way. Claire and Layne were the center of attention and they couldn’t get enough. They ratcheted up their routines by adding dips, spins, and cartwheels so they could keep their viewers interested until the end of the song.

  Claire stole a peek at Massie, who was dancing with one of
the boys. She looked good when she danced, casual and on beat. During the chorus of the song she bent her elbows and raised her arms above her shoulders. It seemed like she wanted to snap her fingers, but she never did. She never smiled or looked at the boy she was dancing with. She would just look above him or at the ground.

  Claire hoped the people watching thought she was more fun than Massie. Maybe one of them would secretly wonder what it would be like to hang out with Claire Lyons.

  When the song ended, Claire and Layne curtsied for their audience. The roaring applause made them anxious for the next song to start so they could give the people more of what they wanted. But the band walked off the stage.

  “It is better to have danced and lost than never to have danced at all,” Layne said with her hand on her heart. She was out of breath.

  “Too true.” Claire sighed. “Too true.”

  Kendra Block climbed the steps to the stage, looking stiffer than the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz. Her silver Chanel heels were so high, she had to walk carefully to avoid a fatal run-in with a pebble or a random twig.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, friends of OCD, on behalf of my family I would like to welcome you to the fifth annual benefit auction.” She paused for applause. “As always we will be raising money for the OCD scholarship fund” (unexpected applause) “and when you see all of the great stuff we have up for bid, you’ll be whipping out your wallets faster than I can say ‘sample sale’!” Applause. “I’m going to pass the microphone over to Kevin Ambrose so we can get this party started! Woo-hooo!” Kendra shot her fist in the air and tilted her head down rock-star style.

  “Oh my God, if I was Massie, I’d be so mortified right now,” Claire said.

  “Look.” Layne pointed toward Massie. Her head was buried in Alicia’s collarbone; she was probably praying for the moment to pass. “Even the cool girls have embarrassing parents.”

  “All righty, folks, the first item up for grabs is this five-speed electronic back massager,” Kevin said. “I’m going to start the bidding at ten dollars.”

  “This is going to be a long night.” Layne sighed. “What do you want to do?”

  “We can go hang out in my room. I just want to wait and see what my stuff goes for,” Claire said.

  Layne sighed and took a long sip of her virgin cosmopolitan.

  After twenty-five minutes of household appliances, CDs, and computer software Kevin moved on to the clothes.

  Claire’s sweatshirts sold for fifty cents apiece to Rose Goldberg, who said they’d be great for polishing silver.

  “There, can we go now?” Layne asked.

  “My fancy stuff is next, hold on,” Claire said to Layne without looking at her. All she could focus on was her DKNY dress, her beaded bag, and her Marc Jacobs heels that Kevin hung over the front of his podium.

  “Those are yours?” Layne widened her eyes.

  Claire scratched her arm. “Alicia bought them for me that one day we were friends.”

  “I can’t believe you’re getting rid of them!”

  “The dress was so tight it gave me gas and the shoes gave me blisters.”

  “So?” Layne shook her head, confused.

  “Plus I get to see that.” Claire pointed to Alicia.

  Her arms were tightly folded across her chest and her bottom teeth were covering her top teeth, which made her look like a bulldog.

  “Look how mad she is,” Layne said. “What are you going to do?”

  “It depends,” Claire said.

  “On what?” Layne asked.

  “What she does.”

  Alicia stormed across the dance floor and marched over to Claire. Dylan was beside her.

  “You have no right to auction that outfit,” Alicia fumed. “It’s mine and I want it back.”

  “Then you better start bidding,” Claire said.

  Layne would have jumped in to defend her friend, but she had lost her ability to speak. Claire knew Layne was surprised by her defiance and liked being thought of as tough and fiery.

  “Two hundred dollars,” a voice called out from the crowd.

  “Three-fifty,” another said.

  Claire was proud of herself for choosing an outfit that was in such high demand.

  “Four twenty-five.”

  “Do I hear five hundred?” Kevin asked.

  “Six hundred dollars,” Claire shouted.

  “Do I hear six-fifty?” Kevin said.

  It was silent.

  “Six hundred going once, going twice, sold to the lady in the cowboy boots,” Kevin said as he slammed his gavel on the podium.

  The only sound Claire could hear was her heart beating and her favorite cowboy boots stepping on the grass below her feet while she walked to pick up her dress.

  She handed Kevin a manila envelope stuffed with twenty-dollar bills and grabbed her outfit and her I SUPPORT OCD pin.

  Claire winked at her parents. They’d been really upset when they first found out she’d let Alicia buy her the outfit. Her mother had insisted she pay Alicia back with the money in her savings account. But after a long discussion Claire had gotten her parents to agree to this plan instead. This way Alicia got the outfit back and the money went to charity. And all was well.

  “Here’s your precious outfit back.” Claire tossed the clothes at Alicia as she walked by. She wished she had paused to see her reaction, but she couldn’t stop. The adrenaline wouldn’t let her.

  Claire finally stopped moving when she got to the back of the tent and realized she had nowhere left to go. She leaned against the thick canvas walls, hoping Layne would rescue her so they could leave. There was no way she was going to stick around the party after she’d one-upped Alicia in public. That would be social suicide.

  Layne was talking to a cute busboy and Claire did her best to send telepathic cries for help.

  Come on, Layne. Let’s go, Layne. LAYNE! But nothing worked.

  The sound of microphone feedback pierced the air and everyone looked over at the stage as if they had just been woken up from a deep sleep.

  “Sorry ’bout that, folks,” William Block snickered. He was swaying back and forth so much, Claire knew he had to be drunk. She snuck a peek at Chris Abeley just to see if he had noticed it. He had. His hand was over his face and his head was shaking back and forth. Claire could tell he was thinking, Here we go again, and she was anxious to find out what William would do next.

  “I’d like to call an old buddy of mine onstage so he can help me out with the next item up for b-hiccup-id,” he said.

  “Jay Lyons, everyone.” Claire’s eyes widened and her face shot forward as if someone had surprised her with a slap on the back. She didn’t dare look at Chris this time.

  “Hello, everyone,” he said. Claire didn’t think he seemed any more sober than William.

  “Now, here’s what we’re gonna do.” He placed his arm around Jay so slowly it looked like they were moving underwater.

  “All we need is one thousand dollars more and OCD will have a new scholarship. Sooo, Jay and I are going to sing ‘Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall’—”

  “Is that how much you drank tonight?” someone shouted. Everyone laughed.

  William ignored the heckler and continued explaining his plan.

  “And we’re not going to stop singing until we get the money,” he said.

  Hands started clapping in anticipation of a beat. The crowd was anxious to see these two grown men make fools of themselves, like bloodthirsty spectators at a boxing match.

  “I want my family up here,” Jay said.

  To everyone’s delight, Todd ran up onstage and started dancing around like a maniac.

  “Where’s my daughter? Claire? Claire? Come on up here!”

  Claire’s mouth tasted like pennies again, which was a sign that puke was right around the corner. She could not believe her father was doing this, not only to himself but to her! Didn’t he understand that she had enough problems?

  When she heard her
name a third time, she ran outside the tent and took cover in a patch of azaleas.

  It wasn’t until they got to ninety-one bottles that Mr. Block started calling for Massie. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. “Where’s my angel?” he called into the microphone. “Massie, come up here and help us out. It’s your school, honey. It’s all for you!”

  Claire glanced over at Massie who was standing alone by the stage, looking uncomfortable. In that single moment Claire saw something in Massie that both amazed and confused her. Massie looked embarrassed, desperate, and scared. Massie looked human.

  Claire reached into her pocket and pulled out Mr. Rivera’s cell phone. She’d fully intended to give it back to Alicia with the dress, but in the heat of the moment she forgot.

  CLAIRE: TAKE COVER. GO 2 THE AZAYLAYAAAAZ

  “Where’s my little baby?” Mr. Block said again into the microphone.

  Claire was wondering the same thing. She tried to peek through the bushes to find Massie, but all she could see was the back of the bartender standing next to crates of dirty glasses and empty bottles. She checked her screen, but Massie never responded. She was mad at herself for expecting otherwise.

  CLAIRE: HURRY!

  The dads were down to eighty-nine and showed no signs of tiring out anytime soon. She would gladly have given them the money they needed if she hadn’t just blown it on an outfit she couldn’t keep.

  MASSIE: TAKE CARE OF BEAN IF I DON’T MAKE IT

  CLAIRE: LOL

  “Move over,” Massie whispered from somewhere in the darkness. “Oh my God, this is brutal.” She was out of breath when she plopped herself down in the dirt beside Claire.

  “I know. Parents shouldn’t be allowed near alcohol.” Claire rolled her eyes.

  “Or microphones.” Massie smirked.

  Both girls laughed awkwardly and spent the next few seconds drowning in unbearable silence.

  “What would you rather,” Claire finally said. “Go up onstage and sing ‘Ninety-nine Bottles’ with our dads or hide in the bushes all night and get attacked by ants?”