The Pretty Committee Strikes Back

by Lisi Harrison

  “Now, can we move on to footwear?” Massie pleaded.

  Claire nodded.

  “Moccasins, knee-high Uggs, and cowboy boots,” Alicia insisted.

  “Agreed,” Dylan echoed.

  “Sounds good,” Claire chimed in, knowing full well she'd be wearing her tan-and-brown L. L. Bean Storm Chaser boots.

  Kristen didn't say a word. She was too busy pretending to be interested in an old copy of Teen Vogue. She had obviously stolen it, because it said Dr. Holland on the address label.

  Alicia reached behind her and held up one of Claire's sneakers. “What about rhinestone-covered Keds?”

  All four girls cracked up. Claire nearly choked on a graham cracker. How long had they been holding that in? She was about to blame the tacky DIY project on Layne but decided to own it instead. The Pretty Committee girls were like wild animals: if they smelled fear, they'd pounce.

  “I was wondering when one of you would notice.” Claire sat up tall. “I was almost starting to think you liked them.”

  No one said a word.

  “I'll be bringing them to Lake Placid, so if anyone wants to borrow them, let me know.” Claire leaned back on her elbows and casually picked a piece of graham cracker out of her teeth.

  She had done well.

  “Those things are even more pathetic now that Mischa Barton is modeling them.” Massie rolled her eyes. “She just misses being someone we'd like.”

  “Ah-greed.” Dylan tried to force the red hunting cap over her thick curly hair. It stood straight up like Elmer Fudd's.

  Claire burst out laughing.

  “What?” Dylan squeaked.

  “Nothing,” Claire said. Luckily she wasn't the only one who noticed how ridiculous Dylan looked.

  “You look like that hunter guy from Bugs Bunny,” Alicia said.

  Kristen lifted her head and giggled. “Elmer Fudd.”

  It wasn't long before everyone was laughing at Dylan and the focus was off Claire. She had learned a lot in the last six months.

  The girls continued working on the list until Massie was satisfied.

  “Done.” She finally hit print and presented them all with a copy of the master packing list.

  CONFIDENTIAL THE PRETTY COMMITTEE'S MASTER PACKING LIST LAKE PLACID

  OUTERWEAR

  • Cropped bomber jackets with furry hoods

  • Nothing past the knees

  • Wool & cashmere coats (for nights)

  • Matching hat & glove sets only (strictly for warmth) Nothing you would ever wear skiing

  FOOTWEAR

  • Moccasins

  • Uggs (knee-high only)

  • Cowboy boots for night

  • Rhinestone-covered Keds (if you dare)

  TOPS

  • Sexy V-necks

  • Earth tones only

  • No Juicy Couture sweats (jeans, purses, and tops are okay)

  • C&C tank tops for layering

  • Cute dresses for night

  • No waffle shirts or any other form of long john you might wear skiing

  BOTTOMS

  • Dark wash jeans

  • Cords (earth tones only)

  • Skirts for night (nothing below the knee)

  • Tights (no black)

  • No long johns

  SLEEPWEAR

  • Camis and boy shorts. End of story.

  JEWELRY

  • MASSIE ONLY: Necklaces (as many as the neck can hold)

  • Diamond studs

  • Gold hoops

  • Rings (all kinds)

  • Watches (all kinds. Even Baby G-Shock are okay, Claire .)

  • Brooches are so out. Leave them behind.

  TECHNOLOGY

  • Portable DVD players (and chargers)

  • Cell phones (and chargers)

  • Sidekicks (and chargers)

  • Video cameras (and chargers)

  • IPods/iPod shuffles/iPod minis/iPod nanos (and chargers)

  • Portable speakers (and plugs)

  • Bose noise-reduction headphones (extra AAA batteries)

  • Digital cameras (and chargers)

  • No Game Boys (antisocial. Besides, boys will have them. Good excuse to talk to them.)

  • Flashlight optional (do they run on batteries? If so, bring batteries.)

  UNDERWEAR

  • Socks

  • Bras (ALICIA!)

  • Underwear (No granny panties, Claire .)

  COSMETICS

  • Face soap

  • Body soap

  • Deodorant

  • Moisturizer

  • Powder

  • Razor, shaving cream

  • Perfume (one for day/one for night)

  • Q-tips

  • Makeup remover

  • Electric toothbrush

  • Dental floss

  • Toothpaste

  • Mouthwash

  • Tweezers

  • Eyelash curlers

  • Mascara

  • Zit cream

  • Cover-up

  • Visine

  • Nail polish (top and base coat too)

  • Nail polish remover

  • Nail file

  • Cuticle clipper

  • Eyeliner

  • Eye shadow

  • Blush

  • Lip gloss

  • Lip balm

  • Lipstick

  • Shampoo

  • Conditioner

  • Deep conditioner

  • Leave-in conditioner

  • Brush

  • Comb

  • Hair dryer

  • Diffuser

  • Curling iron

  • Flatiron

  • Antifrizz serum

  • Shine serum

  • Bug spray

  OTHER

  • Scented candles

  • Magazines

  • Gum (sugar-free)

  • Lavender-scented sheet spray

  • Satin blindfolds for sleeping

  • Slippers

  • Bathrobe

  • Shower cap

  • Hair clips and elastics

  Claire reviewed the list knowing full well the only approved item she would have was the underwear, because she'd just bought ten new pairs from Victoria's Secret.

  “Remember”—Massie put her hands on her hips—”if this document is leaked, it could be very dangerous.”

  Claire tried as hard as she could to think of how this type of information could be “dangerous.” She couldn't come up with a single thing and hoped someone else would ask, but they all seemed to understand completely.

  “In case any of you aren't sure why this cannot fall into enemy hands, I'll explain.” Massie looked right at Claire. Thankfully the room was dark, so no one could see her blush. “I went online and did a search. There are no cute stores in the Adirondacks. So if everyone starts dressing like us, we can't run to the mall and get something new. We will only have what we packed.”

  “Ahhh.” Claire nodded, pretending to get it.

  “You can always call me,” Kristen offered. “I'll be shopping all week, so I can send something up in case there's an emergency.”

  It was obvious that Kristen was trying to sound excited about her situation, because she spoke in a high-pitched everything's-okay-with-me-why-do-you-ask? tone that Claire had never heard before.

  And it was obvious by the way the corners of Massie's lips curled up that she was about to bust Kristen on her fake enthusiasm. But the pling! sound on her computer alerted her to an IM she had just received from SHORTZ4LIFE. And that took priority.

  “Ehmagawd,” Massie squealed. “It's from Derrington!”

  “What'd he say?” Alicia raced over to the iMac. Massie leaned into the screen. Either she was blocking the IM from her friends or she had suddenly become farsighted. Whichever it was, she insisted that everyone stay seated. “I'll tell you everything,” she promised. “I just don't need e
veryone breathing down my neck.”

  Alicia took a few steps back.

  Massie read and typed.

  SHORTZ4LIFE: HI BLOCK

  MASSIEKUR: HEY

  SHORTZ4LIFE: WHAT R U DOING?

  MASSIEKUR: HANGING OUT WITH TPC

  “Ask him if Josh Hotz is definitely going to Lake Placid,” Alicia whispered, as if Derrington could hear her through the computer.

  Claire felt her forehead break out in a cold sweat. Every time Alicia mentioned Josh, Claire tried not to look guilty. She widened her eyes and looked around the room like an innocent fawn.

  MASSIEKUR: IS JOSH GOING?

  SHORTZ4LIFE: ALL MY BOYZ WILL BE THERE.

  JOSH, CAM, PLOVERT, & HURLEY

  Claire felt her heartbeat quicken when Massie said Cam's name. More than anything, she wanted to ask Derrington if Cam had mentioned her poem, but she held back. She didn't want the Pretty Committee to know how desperate she was.

  “Ehmagawd.” Dylan slapped her thighs. “Ask Derrington if Plovert is still on crutches.”

  MASSIEKUR: IS PLOVERT STILL A GIMP?

  SHORTZ4LIFE: LOL. YUP. CAST COMES OFF IN 2 WEEKS

  “Love that!” Dylan said. “Now he can't run away from me.”

  “Should I tell Derrington you like Plovert?” Massie's fingers hovered above her keypad.

  “No! I'm not making it official until tomorrow.” She paused. “Unless you think he's a bad crush. If you do, it's no big deal. I could always go for someone else. Like Josh.”

  “Don't even think about it, Marvil.” Alicia threw a half-chewed marshmallow at Dylan's head. “Or I'll chop off all your hair while you're sleeping and make you eat it.”

  Claire stuffed four squares of chocolate into her mouth at once.

  “No, please don't.” Dylan grabbed her own waist. “I really don't want to gain all that weight back.”

  “Just think,” Kristen said. “If you stayed here with me, we could work out every day.”

  “No offense, but I'd rather eat my hair.” Dylan smiled.

  SHORTZ4LIFE: IS CLAIRE GOING?

  MASSIEKUR: GIVEN

  Claire stood up and raced over to Massie's computer. She knew she'd been asked to stay seated, but Cam was obviously asking about her. And she didn't want to miss a single word of the exchange.

  “Is Cam with him?” Claire asked. “Ask him if Cam got my po—my e-mail.”

  Massie started typing but was interrupted by another pling! She started reading out loud again.

  SHORTZ4LIFE: DOES SHE LIKE JOSH? CUZ HE'S TOTALLY INTO HER

  MASSIEKUR: DOES WHO LIKE JOSH? WHO IS HE INTO?

  Alicia jumped up and hurried over to the computer.

  SHORTZ4LIFE: CLAIRE

  Claire nudged Massie.

  “Uh.” Massie leaned over her screen. “He won't say.”

  “I need to know who it is.” Alicia pleaded. “Tell him we all went home and then ask him if it's me.”

  “Sneaky,” Kristen mumbled, and rolled her eyes.

  “Ugh, will you just let me pay for your trip?” Alicia snapped. “I can't handle your attitude anymore.”

  “I don't want to go,” Kristen said. “Honestly, I am looking forward to getting ahead on my reading.”

  “Fine.” Alicia tried to push past Claire so she could see what Massie was typing.

  Claire carefully stuck her foot under Massie's desk and knocked the plug out of the wall. The computer screen went blank.

  “What happened?” Massie pushed her chair back and lifted her keyboard. She pressed every button and shook it around.

  Claire pressed her elbow into Massie's back, assuring her that everything was okay.

  “Gawd, that keeps happening,” Massie fussed. “I have to get it fixed while I'm away.”

  “Can't you just call Derrington and find out who Josh likes?” Alicia begged. “Please.”

  “We don't talk on the phone,” Massie said.

  “Wait, you make out but you don't talk on the phone?” Dylan said.

  “Right,” Massie insisted.

  A deep guttural gagging sound suddenly filled the room.

  “Dylan,” Alicia said.

  “It's not me.”

  Claire looked at Massie's ceiling, silently thanking God for the distraction.

  “What?” Dylan asked. “I told you, it's not me. Look.” She pointed at Bean. The dog was rolling around in her canoe, choking.

  Massie jumped out of her chair and raced over to her puppy. “Bean, what's wrong? What is it? Is there something in your throat?”

  The dog kept gasping for air. She sounded like a car that was having engine trouble.

  “Bean, please say something.” Massie started tearing up. It was the first time Claire had ever seen her get emotional in front of her friends. She rubbed the pug's back in a soothing, circular motion. “Cough it up.”

  While the dog was choking and Massie was rubbing, Claire thought about Cam. She imagined telling him about this traumatic moment over e-mail or on the phone. He would probably get all quiet because he loved animals. And that would make Claire love him even more. Ugh! Why won't he just let me explain? Why did I have to kiss Josh? What's going to happen when Alicia finds out?

  “Come on, sweet pea, you can do it,” Massie urged. “Cough it up.” Suddenly Aibo's black plastic tail shot out of Bean's mouth. “Good girl! You did it!” Massie hugged her puppy and rocked back and forth, her face buried between the dog's ears. “See, one little cough and everything's all better.”

  Claire covered her mouth and forced herself to cough too. But Massie was wrong. Nothing had gotten better. Her life still sucked.

  OCTAVIAN COUNTRY DAY SCHOOL PARKING LOT

  Monday, February 23rd 8:11 A.M.

  “Ehmagawd,” Dylan squealed as Isaac pulled into the OCD parking lot. “There's Chris Plovert.” She rolled down the window of the Blocks' Range Rover and stuck her head out. “I had no idea his father drove a silver Bentley.” She unzipped her cropped black bomber jacket and fluffed her red curls. “Mark the time and day,” she announced. “I am officially going for Chris Plovert.” She watched him struggle to get out of the backseat and giggled sympathetically. First came the tips of his silver crutches, then the cast-covered foot, and finally the rest of his Adidas-clad body.

  “Close the window.” Alicia tried to block the sudden breeze with her hands. “My hair is getting stuck to my lip gloss.”

  Dylan rolled the window down even more. “No way, it's like sixty-five degrees out. We're setting a record today. Didn't you watch The Daily Grind this morning?”

  Alicia twisted her jet black hair into a low ponytail. “No, I was too busy tweezing to watch your mother's show.”

  “Just roll it up, Dyl.” Massie fished through her pink Coach makeup bag. “I have to touch up my eyeliner and I don't want the boys to see.”

  “Massie,” Isaac called over his shoulder, “please wait until I've parked. I don't need you poking your eyes out while your parents are driving in the car behind me.”

  “If they weren't behind you, it would be okay?” Massie joked as she pressed the button that raised the glass partition between the front and back seats. She knew Isaac was just being his usual overprotective self, but she didn't have time to humor him. The Briarwood boys were a few feet away and her eyes were red and glassy. But what did she expect? She hadn't finished packing until midnight, and then she'd taken notes on William Cane's book The Art of Kissing so that her second MUCK session would go better than the first. If it weren't for sugar-free Red Bull, she never would have finished the whole thing. And she certainly never would have been awake at 5:30 a.m. when Jakkob had arrived to fix Claire's bangs. The early-morning house call had cost three hundred dollars but it was worth it. When he was done, Claire no longer looked like she had walked into an electrical fence. She had been transformed into one of those ah-dorably stylish French schoolgirls who have super-short bangs and cool notebooks.

  Now it was Massie who needed the makeove
r. She looked like she had just spent a month in OCD's overchlorinated pool with her eyes open. She needed to apply Nars's Parrot Cay eyeliner to the inside of her lower lids to offset the redness ASAP.

  “Do you think Cam will notice my new bangs?” Claire asked.

  Massie snapped the lid over the eyeliner pencil and dropped it in her makeup bag.

  “Kuh-laire.” Massie sighed. “He may have one blue eye and one green one, but that doesn't mean the guy is blind.”

  “He's gonna fall in love with you all over again,” Alicia gushed. “You seriously look cute now.”

  “It's true,” Dylan added. “Cute in a legitimate way, not just a cute-for-you way.”

  “Thanks.” Claire beamed.

  “BTW, you guys have to help me find the girl Josh likes,” Alicia whined.

  “It's probably you.” Dylan slowly shook her head, like they had been through this a million times before. “Every guy likes you.”

  “I know.” Alicia punched herself on the thigh. “That's why this is so ahn-noying. He never talks to me.”

  “Maybe he's shy,” Claire suggested.

  “Or maybe he likes someone else,” Alicia pouted.

  Claire turned toward the window and bit her thumbnail.

  Massie felt the familiar vibration of a text message. She flipped open her purple-crystal-covered phone and opened the car door.

  She acted like she was looking at the screen, but she was really focused on the white furry moccasins she had pulled over her dark True Religion jeans. She refused to read the message until her feet were planted safely on the ground. She was still shaky from the Red Bulls, and the last thing she needed was to wipe out in front of the boys.

  KRISTEN: Hve fun _ I'll miss u.

  MASSSIE: Sure we can't pay?

  KRISTEN: Yup thx. Enjoy the weather, nature, animals, and hiking.

  MASSIE: And BOYS.

  KRISTEN: That 2. xoxo

  MASSIE: Enjoy the mall. xoxo

  Massie dropped her phone into her metallic pink Coach tote. She knew the color violated the earth-tone-only mandate, but eventually everyone would have one and it was crucial that her public know who'd started the trend.

  The Pretty Committee stood in a tight huddle on the curb while Isaac unloaded five cases of vitamin water from the hatch and Dylan's four Louis Vuitton suitcases.

  Within seconds three cars caravanned into the spaces behind the Range Rover. The Blocks stepped out of a white Mercedes they had nicknamed Moby, the Riveras got out of a limo, and the Lyonses emerged from a caramel-colored Ford Taurus.