by Ivy Adams
“It would keep River from thinking I’m pining for him,” Izzy mused, her eyes brighter than Piper had seen them in a while.
“Exactly!” agreed Cassidy. “And it would shut up all those guys who claim I’m a lesbian just because I wouldn’t sleep with them.”
“Not to mention providing us with the ammunition to one day take down Germaine and her stupid Kiss the Pig page once and for all.” Mei’s eyes gleamed with approval.
“Well, there is that.” The thought had definite appeal to Piper—a whole Facebook page about kissing hot guys was so much cooler than one about kissing a pig. And if the thing took off, it would be awesome. It could be a whole revolution against mean girls everywhere.
“We’d have to be careful,” Izzy said. “We don’t want a bunch of skeezy guys around the world cyberstalking us.”
“Ooooh, yuck,” Piper agreed.
“So what do we call ourselves, then?” Mei asked. “I mean, if you want to hide who we are, we need good nicknames.”
Cassidy poked her in the shoulder. “I think you should call yourself Mulan.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Why not? That’s kind of cute, actually.” Piper tugged gently on her friend’s jet-black hair.
Cassidy added, “Yeah, and if we go with something as lame as Disney, then nobody will ever guess who we are.”
“It’s not lame!” Piper protested. “Especially if I can be Esmeralda.”
Izzy choked on a french fry. When she was finally finished coughing, she gasped, “You’re cute, Pipes, but you’re no Demi Moore.”
“Whatever.” She paused, her mind racing over the possibilities. “So who should I be then?”
“Ariel, of course. You can’t wait to get out of here and be someone else.”
“Hmm. That’s a good point. And I think it would be kind of sexy to be a mermaid.”
“Of course you do.” Cassidy glanced at Izzy. “I think you should be Jasmine. Since you love hummus so much. And flying carpets are environmentally friendly.”
“I can get behind that,” Izzy agreed.
“No no no! I’ve got it!” Piper said with a grin. “You’re Jane, from Tarzan.”
“You are going to the jungle,” Mei pointed out.
“And God willing, there will be half-naked men there,” Cassidy added.
Izzy nodded, considering. “I have always thought that Tarzan was a sexy hunk of ink.”
“Not as hot as Chang.” Piper nudged Mei. “You lucky dog.”
“What about Cassidy?” Mei asked, blushing. “Is there a sporty princess?”
“Cassidy’s Rapunzel,” Piper said.
“But don’t you think I’m more of a Pixar girl?”
“No, honey, you’re Rapunzel.” Piper patted her on her hand. “You’ve been trapped here for sixteen years and are just dying for a chance to let your hair down.”
“My hair’s already down, thank you very much.” Cassidy held up a blond lock.
“Yeah, well, the escape thing still works,” Mei said.
Cass thought about it, then said, “It kinda does. You’re right.”
“Okay, then.” Piper held up her milkshake. “I propose a toast. To the launch of the IKC fan page and the hottest Disney princesses to ever walk the planet.”
“Or at least the most insane,” Mei said as she bumped Piper’s cup with her own. Izzy and Cassidy joined in.
A little while later, as they were about to leave, Piper remembered to ask Cassidy, “So, have you gotten the whole money thing figured out yet?”
“Actually, I’m going to ask my dad today,” Cassidy said, looking determined and more than a little scared.
Holy crap. And Izzy was the one in a bad mood? If Cassidy had this hanging over her head, she should be the one snapping at people. Even if Izzy hadn’t talked to River since he went off to college, that was nothing compared to calling up a scuzzy deadbeat dad and asking him for money.
“Don’t worry, Cass, it’ll be fine,” Piper said, squeezing her friend’s hand. “I just know it.”
Mei gave an encouraging thumbs-up. And even Izzy smiled with false cheer as they threw away their trash. But Piper could tell by the looks on Mei’s and Izzy’s faces that her friends were as concerned about Cassidy’s plan as she was. Not because of the money thing, but because of what it might do to Cassidy to talk to her dad again. Their relationship was pretty nonexistent and the fact that she was willing to ask her dad for the money showed just how important this trip out of Paris was to Cassidy. She needed a chance to just be herself, to get away from all the jerks who thought she would put out just because her mom had—not to mention the ones who called her names when she wouldn’t.
Knowing Cassidy wouldn’t want to dwell on anything related to her dad, Piper shifted all of her shopping bags until she had a free arm. Linking it with Cassidy’s, she said, “Recycled clothes, here we come!”
Cassidy laughed. “I can’t wait.”
Piper figured they all knew she was talking about a lot more than a shopping trip.
Four hours later, Piper bustled out of Mei’s car and down the walk to her front door, weighed down by all her shopping bags. Who would have guessed that REI actually had some cute stuff? Not a lot, but she loved the new jacket and backpack she’d picked up there. While they weren’t made of recycled water bottles, even Izzy had been forced to admit they were cool.
As she opened the front door, she sent up a quick prayer that her parents had already left for their dinner party. The last thing she was in the mood for was a long, drawn out “discussion” while her mom pawed through her shopping bags and criticized everything she’d bought.
But the second she walked in the house, she knew she was out of luck. Her father’s cigar smoke—gross—hung in the air, mingling with the scent of her mother’s before-dinner drink. Or maybe she should say bottle, as her mom was going through a lot more than one drink these days.
“Piper, you’re home!” Her mom came into the foyer just as Piper started up the stairs. “I was hoping we’d catch you before we left.”
After running through a number of inventive curses in her head, Piper forced a smile as she turned to her mom. “Yeah. Sorry I’m late—Izzy took forever at REI.”
“I don’t know why she insists on shopping at that ridiculous store. She’s such a pretty girl. She’d look so much better if she didn’t dress in burlap all the time.”
Though Piper secretly agreed, she felt honor bound to defend her friend. “It’s not burlap, Mom. Besides, Izzy really cares about the environment.”
“I know, I know. But I don’t see why she can’t look good while she’s caring about the environment.” Her mom walked closer to the stairs, her four-inch stilettos tapping out a rhythm on the marble floor. The quick patter told Piper that her mother was a lot more sober than she’d originally thought, though Piper didn’t know if she should be happy about that or not. A sober mom meant a nosy one, and she would really like to get up the stairs without a postmortem on—
“Well, don’t just stand there. Show me what you bought.”
Too late. Of course, it had been too late the second her mother realized she was home. With a sigh, Piper tromped down the scant few steps she’d managed to climb and followed her mother into the family room, where she laid her bags on the couch for inspection.
It didn’t take long for the criticism to begin. “There isn’t one bag here from Neiman’s. Really, Piper, are these stores the best you could do?”
“You know Piper, Mom,” Savannah said as she walked into the room. “She thinks she’s too good for Neiman’s.”
Piper shot her sister a glare, but Savannah only grinned evilly as she poked at bags from BCBG and Express.
“Besides, she thinks she’s an artiste. Neiman’s is probably too boring for her.”
“I like it just fine, Savannah. But these stores are cooler. Plus, you know my friends aren’t crazy about Neiman Marcus.”
“Which is one more reason
I’ve always questioned you hanging around with them,” her mother said with a disapproving frown. “You always looked so much nicer when you were hanging out with Germaine. Now there’s a girl who knows how to dress.”
Piper gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the little flash of betrayal that came with the realization that, despite everything, her mother was still on Germaine’s side. It didn’t matter that she had caused Piper—and her mother—months of untold grief. Nor did it matter that she was a manipulative narcissist who cared about no one and nothing but herself. All that mattered to her mother was that Germaine looked good while she terrorized the halls of Paris High.
And wasn’t that just typical? In her mother’s world, it didn’t matter how things really were as long as they appeared good on the surface. Who cared if Piper was suffering as long as she pretended to be happy? Who cared if her mother was a drunk as long as she looked and acted sober? Who cared if her mom actually loved her as long as everyone thought she did?
Piper could feel her annoyance turning to tears, and she battled them back. It wouldn’t do her any good to cry. Her mother would just remind her that crying made her skin blotchy and her eyes swollen—two things she really couldn’t afford, especially with her “eccentric” looks.
“Aren’t you going to be late to dinner with the Franklins?” she asked desperately.
Her mother glanced at the Cartier watch on her wrist. “We still have a few minutes. Your father isn’t quite ready yet.”
She reached into one of the bags and pulled out the funky shoes Piper had bought to go with her new sundresses. They had thick heels and were a really cool electric-blue that made her happy just looking at them.
“Oh, Piper, really? Blue shoes?”
“I like them, Mom.”
“Which just goes to show how little taste you have,” Savannah said with an eye roll.
“Of course you like them, dear. But this color shoe doesn’t look good on anyone. And those heels aren’t the right shape. They’re going to make your legs look short and with your thigh issues, that’s not what you need.”
Piper swore she could feel her perfectly normal thighs expanding under her mother’s judgmental gaze. Aren’t mothers supposed to make you feel better about yourself? she wondered as she frantically began chewing on a thumbnail. It was a habit left over from when she’d been a kid and one she’d mostly broken—except when her mother was on a tear. Which was more often than not these days, thanks to the whole Kiss the Pig thing.
“And this dress.” Her mother pulled out one of the sundresses she’d bought on sale. “Do you really think you need to be showing off your arms in this thing? It’s not like you’ve been going to the gym with your sister and me lately.”
“You know what? Forget it. If you don’t like what I bought, you can take it all back tomorrow. It doesn’t matter to me.” Piper headed for the stairs at a dead run, leaving her bags where they were, knowing that she’d lose it completely if she didn’t get away from her mom.
“Don’t speak to your mother like that, young lady!” Her father’s voice boomed from down the hall.
Suddenly, she couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Why don’t you tell her not to criticize everything about me?” she shouted back as she ran up the stairs, her mother’s Chihuahua, Pookie, nipping at her heels. “I’m sick of her trying to control every part of my life. I’m not Savannah. I’m not going to let her dress me up and parade me around the pageant circle.”
Her sister snorted. “Like the pageant circle would want you.”
“I don’t know what to do with that girl, Tom,” she heard her mother say as she ran to her room.
“Don’t let her upset you, Mom,” Savannah said in a tone that would make Germaine proud. “You know Piper hates that she’s the only one of us girls not to win a beauty pageant.”
Piper gritted her teeth and swallowed the urge to scream at her sister. That was exactly the reaction Savannah was looking for, and she so wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Not now, when freedom was within reach.
“I was just trying to help,” her mother said with a sigh. “Doesn’t she realize if she looked better, she wouldn’t be such a target? No one would ever make Germaine kiss a—”
Piper slammed her door in Pookie’s face, then hurled herself on her bed. Yanking her iPod off her nightstand, she slipped it on and then cranked up her favorite playlist. Pink came on and masked the sounds of her parents leaving for the night. But it couldn’t mask Piper’s thoughts—or the tears that burned behind her eyelids.
She blinked them back. It was bad enough that Germaine had made her cry—she wouldn’t let her mother do it, too.
IKC Fan Page
The Official Rules and Guidelines for the International Kissing Club
Info
• Kiss and be kissed
• Often
• Kiss and tell
• One point per kiss. Three points if it really makes you shiver …
° Bonus points: five points for two guys in one week and ten points for three
Chapter 6
Cassidy
“Cass? Earth to Cassidy?”
“Huh?” she said, staring in a daze out of Mei’s car window.
“I asked if you thought Izzy was acting weird, but then maybe you’re not the best judge right now, either,” Mei said.
“I’m sorry.” Cassidy shifted in her seat and fiddled with the air vents. “I was just thinking about other things.” She sighed heavily. “Just about calling my dad.” She paused. “He’ll do it, right? Give me the money, I mean. It’s not like I’ve ever asked him for anything before.” Not that he’d been around to ask even if she’d wanted to. She knew Mei had no idea whether her father was going to agree to this or not, but when she said it out loud like that it sounded completely within the realm of possibility.
“You haven’t talked to him lately, have you?” Mei’s question made Cass realize she hadn’t been as smooth about hiding this fact as she’d thought.
She was slow to answer. “No. Not since my tenth birthday.” She turned and caught Mei’s sympathetic gaze. “Don’t tell Piper and Izzy. I just … just don’t tell them, okay?”
“Of course I won’t.” Mei looked so serious, it made Cassidy smile. She and Piper had been friends the longest of the four of them, but sometimes Mei understood her better. Maybe it was because Mei was adopted and she knew what it was like to have a parent she didn’t know.
“So, what are you going to say to him?” Mei asked the question that had been weighing on Cassidy’s mind all week.
“I guess I’m going to tell him the truth: I’m going to Australia and I want him to pay for it.”
“And what if he says no?”
Cassidy took a deep breath. “Then I’ll remind him that my mom stopped taking child support six years ago and he owes me. He’s got his own business, and, from what little I’ve been able to find out, he does pretty well for himself.”
“Why did your mom stop accepting the payments? Seems like she’d want him to keep paying through the nose after he left her.”
Cassidy shrugged. “You know my mom—too much Barlow pride. She said that if he didn’t want to be a real father to me, then we didn’t need his guilt money, either.”
They pulled into the drive of the little house Cassidy shared with her mom. “Won’t she get mad when you tell her?” Mei asked as they got out of the car.
Cassidy had been wondering the same thing. She and her mom had always been close; they’d pretty much grown up together. And this would be the first time she’d ever deliberately gone behind her mother’s back to do something. Conspiring with her father no less—to her mom, it would be the ultimate betrayal. She might even try to keep Cassidy from taking the money if her father ponied up. Which was why Cassidy had decided she wouldn’t say anything until it was done. If he didn’t give her the money, there would never be any reason to tell her mom what she’d done.
“No. Not until after. She�
��s working an extra shift at the lab today, so I’m going to do it before she gets home.”
“Do you want me to stay while you call? For moral support?”
It would be good to have someone there in case she chickened out, but Cassidy didn’t want to say that. “You don’t have to. You know, if you have stuff to do …”
Mei smiled. “I can move my guitar lesson to tomorrow. Let’s do this.”
They walked inside the house and Cassidy dropped her backpack on a chair in the living room. Everything was quiet. “Mom?” she called, just in case. No answer.
“Do you have his number?” Mei asked.
“No, but I know where I can find it. Come with me.” Cassidy walked into the back bedroom and went to her mom’s dresser. She quashed a pang of guilt as she reached for the drawer handle. She and her mother didn’t have many boundaries, and she hated that she was crossing one now. Cassidy slid open the top drawer and dug beneath a pile of socks. At the bottom her fingers hit the edge of a large manila envelope.
“I found this a few years ago,” she said to Mei, pulling it out of the drawer. “My mom doesn’t know I’ve seen it.” She opened the metal clasp and reached inside, bringing out a collection of papers. One fell to the floor and Mei picked it up.
It was a picture of Cassidy’s mom sitting on the back of a late ‘80s maroon Mustang convertible. Her fuchsia satin dress had big bows on the puffy sleeves to match the riot of blond, poufy curls on her head. She was beaming at the tall, slim guy standing next to her in a tuxedo coat, creased Wranglers, and cowboy boots, with military-short reddish hair and blue eyes as bright as his smile.
“Are these your parents?” Mei asked.
“Yeah, at prom.”
“They look so young.”
Too young, Cassidy thought. “My mom got pregnant that night. They were going to get married, but in the fall my dad left to play baseball at Texas A&M like he’d always planned, and it never happened.”
