EPILOGUE
JFK AIRPORT
VIRGIN ATLANTIC RUNWAY
Saturday, January 15th
9:02 P.M.
“One Glacéau Vitamin Water and one bowl of Evian water, puh-lease,” Massie said as the flight attendant reclaimed her cooling hot towel with a pinch of his silver tongs.
Rule number one of flying was to stay hydrated. Rule number two was to stay entertained, which is why she’d brought the latest Seventeen, Vogue, People, and In Style magazines with her, as well as her MacBook, the season-two DVDs of Vampire Diaries, a cashmere BRAND throw, and some lavender-scented neck pillows for her and Bean. She spread all of them out on the empty seat next to her and then leaned back, letting the first-class leather seat hold her like a hug.
“Cabin crew, prepare for takeoff.” The pilot’s Robert Pattinson accent danced throughout the aircraft. Massie felt her stomach squeeze itself and then flutter back to its normal position. Was it possible she was nervous? She’d been flying since she was three months old! Then again, she reminded herself, this was the first time she was leaving New York without a return ticket in her Gucci wallet.
William and Kendra were seated in front of her, reclined and sipping champagne, leaving Massie and Bean to stretch out in a row of their own. Now that she was on the plane, her Louis carry-on safely stowed above her seat, she could finally start to process everything that had happened since the New Year’s Yves party:
The Block estate had been packed up and put on the market, its contents shipped to the Blocks’ new English castle.
Massie had officially withdrawn from OCD and registered at KISS (Knightsbridge Isle Secondary School).
Massie had purchased—and devoured—biographies and articles on B-Alphas like Princess Diana, Queen Elizabeth, Kate Moss, Stella McCartney, Victoria Beckham, and Sienna Miller, deciding that Madonna and Gwenyth hadn’t lived there long enough to qualify as British Alphas.
Instead, she YouTubed recent interviews with the expats to study how they’d managed to tweak their American accents to sound more British. And then decided never to do that.
She and Landon had a heart-to-heart about whether it was realistic to sustain a transnational relationship. There had been tears, but once he had stopped crying, they parted amicably.
Bean had said goodbye to Bark Obama one last time. As she’d watched them run around the doggie playpen in Bark Jacobs, Massie had realized that, just like her and Landon, Bean and Bark would always be friends.
Most important, Massie had said her goodbye-for-nows to Claire, Alicia, Dylan, and Kristen. And her parents had promised Massie could come back to Westchester in the summer and stay with the Lyonses, unless they all wanted to come to the castle. Either way they were committed for summer and bound by one of Len Rivera’s contracts.
As Massie reached for a magazine, she caught sight of her wrists and smiled. Normally she would ew-schew the braided, colorful pieces of fabric that adorned them, but she’d made an exception for the Pretty Committee. Seeing as she was leaving before OCD was back in session, Layne organized a friendship bracelet drive for Massie as a way of getting the whole school to say good-bye. All of her friends, or rather, the people who had always wanted to be her friends, had left bracelets on the doorstep of the estate. There were eighty-seven in all but she only wore five: the four that truly mattered, and Layne’s.
The plane began careening down the runway. Bean trembled—she had a fear of flying—but Massie held her close as they peered out the tiny window. The plane went up, up, up until New York, the only home Massie had ever known, began to look like a miniature toy city, twinkling with lights, blowing her goodbye kisses. She pressed her glossy lips against the oval window and sent one back. “I will heart you forever,” she muttered.
She and Bean stared out in silence as the plane soared higher. The city lights of her past disappeared behind them as they leveled off over the dark-as-coal Atlantic. Suddenly they were surrounded in blackness: her future, waiting to be filled. Massie rested her head back on the seat, flicked off the light, and wondered what that black space would look like one year from now.
“Would you fancy my nuts?” asked a boy in a Harry Potter accent.
“’Scuse me?” she whip-turned toward the aisle and giggled. (If only the Pretty Committee had heard that one!) A smiling pair of brown eyes were fixed on her. The boy who looked the same age as Landon was holding a silver bag of almonds. Thick black hair waved around his tanned face, making his teeth look brighter than her New Year’s dress.
“I noticed you weren’t eating your biscuits and I thought maybe we could trade.” Dimples cut his cheeks, upgrading him from a 9 to a 9.6. If he presented a driver’s license and proof of a trust fund, he might be a perfect 10.
“Done,” Massie said, handing her plate across the aisle.
“So you from New York, then?” he asked, biting into the warm chocolate chip cookie. Was it possible for someone to chew with an accent? Or were his lips that compelling all on their own?
“Born and raised,” she said, proudly. “You?” she asked, regretting it immediately. “I mean, is that where you were? I mean, ah-bviously you were because you came from there but were you visiting?”
Ehmagawd mayday!
He chuckled. “Yup. First time. I spent the holidays at my cousins’. They live right in the city. What a blast!” he wiped his mouth on a cloth napkin and politely folded it so the chocolate skid faced the tray. Massie imagined Derrington wiping his on a sleeve or even the back of the seat. No, they weren’t in American airspace anymore.
“Is that yours?” he asked, pointing at her ah-mazing new Louis Vuitton Keepall 55 carry-on.
“Yeah, I got it as a going-away present to myself,” she beamed.
“Wow, you must be easy to please,” he chuckled.
“Make fun all you want but I earned the money myself,” she bragged, even though it wasn’t entirely true. It would have been if she didn’t use the sale money to buy clothes for her friends. So it wasn’t exactly a lie either.
“Really?” he looked confused. “I got mine for free. Kind of comes with the application.”
“Huh?” Massie said, eyeing her bag. Her KISS handbook was poking out the top of the bag. “Oh, you mean that?” she asked, kicking it with the toe of her lace-up riding boots.
He nodded. “Quite a nice place. I go there.”
Ehmagawd, this Bawtie (British hawttie) goes to KISS?
“I’ll be starting there next week,” Massie said, restraining from jumping on the seat like Tom Cruise on Oprah.
“Well,” he smiled, “I’ll have to give you a tour.”
“Okay,” Massie smiled, nervously.
An awkward silence hung between them until he pointed to her wrist and asked, “What’re all those for?”
Massie held up her wrists and examined them again in the gray light. “Oh, these? Just some friendship bracelets.” She wiggled her wrists around, hoping he’d notice the Tiffany & Co. cuff or ruby-and-diamond ring she was wearing instead. She felt the sudden, deep need to impress him.
He whistled a low, long whistle. “You must have a lot of friends, then.”
If you only knew…
“I did in New York,” she said. “But I don’t know anyone in London.”
The boy turned his penny-brown eyes on her and smiled. “You do now.” He reached out his hand across the aisle. “Hi. I’m James.”
Massie almost laughed out loud. Then she held out her hand and took his palm, shaking it firmly but gently.
“I’m Massie. It’s ah-mazing to meet you.”
Contents
FRONT COVER IMAGE
WELCOME
A LETTER FROM LISI
WESTCHESTER, NY CAM FISHER’S DRIVEWAY, Friday, December 24th 6:22 P.M.
THE BLOCK ESTATE THE KITCHEN, Saturday, December 25th 8:06 A.M.
THE PINEWOOD THE LIVING ROOM, Saturday, December 25th 9:02 A.M.
THE MARVIL HOUSE THE DRIVEWAY, Saturd
ay, December 25th 12:05 P.M.
NEW YORK CITY THE 21 CLUB, Saturday, December 25th 12:07 P.M.
SOMEWHERE IN WESTCHESTER THE LYONSES’ CAR, Saturday, December 25th 3:15 P.M.
THE PINEWOOD THE ROOFTOP, Sunday, December 26th 2:39 P.M.
THE BLOCK ESTATE MASSIE’S BEDROOM, Sunday, December 26th 3:49 P.M.
THE MARVIL HOUSE MERRI-LEE’S BATHROOM, Sunday, December 26th 4:17 P.M.
THE GUESTHOUSE CLAIRE’S ROOM, Sunday, December 26th 5:27 P.M.
THE BLOCK ESTATE GLU HEADQUARTERS, Monday, December 27th 11:01 A.M.
THE RIVERA HOUSE ALICIA’S BEDROOM, Monday, December 27th 12:40 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY MARSHALLS’ JUNIORS SECTION, Monday, December 27th 4:15 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY THE MARVIL HOUSE, Monday, December 27th 4:43 P.M.
THE RIVERA HOUSE THE BACKYARD, Tuesday, December 28th 2:25 P.M.
THE BLOCK ESTATE THE KITCHEN, Tuesday, December 28th 4:01 P.M.
THE FISHER HOUSE THE GARAGE, Tuesday, December 28th 6:32 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY THE LIMOUSINE, Tuesday, December 28th 7:40 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY THE MARVIL HOUSE, Wednesday, December 29th 3:31 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY THE RIVERA HOUSE, Wednesday, December 29th 5:39 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY THE PINEWOOD, Wednesday, December 29th 6:52 P.M.
THE BLOCK ESTATE MASSIE’S BEDROOM, Thursday, December 30th 6:21 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY CLAIRE’S NEW HOUSE, Friday, December 31st 2:12 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY MERRI-LEE MARVIL’S NEW YEAR’S YVES PARTY, Friday, December 31st 8:21 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY MERRI-LEE MARVIL’S NEW YEAR’S YVES PARTY, Friday, December 31st 9:34 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY MERRI-LEE MARVIL’S NEW YEAR’S YVES PARTY, Friday, December 31st 10:17 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY OUTSIDE THE NEW YEAR’S YVES PARTY, Friday, December 31st 11:26 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY OUTSIDE THE NEW YEAR’S YVES PARTY, Friday, December 31st 11:41 P.M.
WESTCHESTER, NY MERRI-LEE MARVIL’S NEW YEAR’S YVES PARTY, Friday, December 31st 11:57 P.M.
EPILOGUE
JFK AIRPORT VIRGIN ATLANTIC RUNWAY, Saturday, January 15th 9:02 P.M.
CLIQUE NOVELS BY LISI HARRISON:
COPYRIGHT
CLIQUE novels by Lisi Harrison:
THE CLIQUE
BEST FRIENDS FOR NEVER
REVENGE OF THE WANNABES
INVASION OF THE BOY SNATCHERS
THE PRETTY COMMITTEE STRIKES BACK
DIAL L FOR LOSER
IT’S NOT EASY BEING MEAN
SEALED WITH A DISS
BRATFEST AT TIFFANY’S
THE CLIQUE SUMMER COLLECTION
P.S. I LOATHE YOU
BOYS R US
CHARMED AND DANGEROUS: THE RISE OF
THE PRETTY COMMITTEE
THE CLIQUETIONARY
THESE BOOTS ARE MADE FOR STALKING
MY LITTLE PHONY
A TALE OF TWO PRETTIES
ALPHAS novels by Lisi Harrison:
ALPHAS
MOVERS AND FAKERS
BELLE OF THE BRAWL
* Insert your name in BIG, BOLD letters.
Copyright
Copyright © 2011 by Alloy Entertainment
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Poppy
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue
New York, NY 10017
Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com.
For more of your favorite series, go to www.twitter.com/littlebrown.
First eBook Edition: February 2011
Poppy is an imprint of Little, Brown and Company.
The Poppy name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN: 978-0-316-13269-5
Begin Reading
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
A Tale of Two Pretties Page 15