Boys R Us

by Lisi Harrison

  Cam stuck his finger in Claire’s ice cream. “What flavor’d you get?” What he was obviously saying was, School sucks without you there.

  “Original.” Claire smiled. Same. The soft glow from the giant white orbs that swung overhead made Cam’s eyes sparkle even more than usual. She couldn’t tell if it was the frosty fro-yo making her teeth chatter or her crush.

  “—that corner kick with like five seconds left?” Dempsey was saying to Kristen while the boys eyed the menu at the front of the store.

  “I know!” Kristen plucked a soggy piece of granola from her cup and popped it into her mouth. “I DVR’d it and played it back a billion times.”

  “AC Milan’s team is sick this year,” Dempsey said. “Who’s your favorite player?”

  “Who’s yours?” Kristen shot back.

  “On three?” Dempsey’s dimple deepened.

  Kristen nodded happily. “One… two…”

  “BECKHAM!” they shouted in unison, high-fiving. Kristen’s cheeks flushed pinker than her fro-yo.

  “So have you guys seen Massie’s new friends?” Alicia said loudly, obviously bored with the soccer talk.

  Claire sighed. She was getting sick of talking about, hearing about, and seeing Massie’s new friends. Couldn’t they talk about something else?

  She turned toward Cam. “So how was prac—”

  “You know the one with the short haircut?” Dylan said. “I heard her family invented graham crackers. That’s how they made their first billion.”

  “Lame,” Alicia decided. “But not as lame as the little get-together Massie’s having Friday night. Her sleepovers have gone downhill fast.” She turned toward Josh. “Apparently, since we’re not available, she’s inviting lots of homeless people.”

  “No way.” Josh’s eyes gleamed like they did whenever Alicia had juicy gossip.

  Alicia nodded. “Sooo sad.” She pouted happily.

  Claire gripped her plastic spoon so hard she thought it might crack. What was Alicia talking about? Claire had seen the way she’d reacted at lunch yesterday, shouting and storming out of the café after Massie had tricked her into announcing the event. Why couldn’t Alicia just admit that she was freaked out that Massie’s party would be better than hers? For that matter, why couldn’t Massie admit that having billionaire friends just wasn’t the same as having the old millionaire ones?

  “Hey.” She nudged Cam’s thigh with hers. “Wanna go to Sharper Image?”

  “Ooohhh! Lyons and Fisher need some alone time,” Derrington teased. He turned his back to the table and wrapped his arms around his body, making kissing noises.

  “Ehmagawd.” Dylan giggled.

  “Gimme a break,” Cam said, turning red. But he avoided Claire’s insistent stare.

  Claire’s heart was starting to race again. This time it was definitely not in that “I just can’t wait to see my boyfriend” kind of way. Why didn’t Cam want to spend any time with her?

  “I’m starving,” Cam announced, shoving back his chair. “Do they have real food here?”

  “We can go to the food court,” Claire stood quickly. She remembered a CosmoGirl.com article she’d read last week about how boys didn’t know how to take a hint. You had to tell them exactly what you wanted, or they didn’t get it. She followed Cam up to the register. Despite the cool, stainless steel counters, the calming green walls, and the soft lighting, her stress level was definitely on the rise.

  “Cam,” she started. “I want to get our own table.” There. She said it.

  “Green tea with Fruity Pebbles,” Cam told the girl behind the counter. “Large.” He turned toward Claire.

  “You mean ditch everybody else?” he said over a sticky green mouthful. “That’s not cool.”

  “Never mind,” Claire snapped, stalking back to the table. She yanked her chair out so hard it almost toppled over.

  “Easy, Lyons,” Josh joked. His eyes slid back and forth between Claire and Cam, who had slumped into his seat and was poking silently at his Fruity Pebbles.

  “Don’t mind her,” Alicia said, batting her thick lashes. “She’s just mad because Cam wants to hang out with us and she doesn’t.”

  Claire clenched her jaw.

  Alicia didn’t let up. “Or is it that you’d rather be hanging out with Massie and her crew?” she challenged, pointing her spoon at Claire. “’Cause if that’s the case, don’t let us stop you.” She motioned grandly toward the door.

  Dylan and Kristen stared down at their empty cups.

  The boys looked totally clueless.

  And Cam did absolutely nothing to stand up for her.

  “This is crazy,” Claire muttered, jumping up from her chair. She wove through the maze of tables and chairs, heading for the bathroom. She should have been mad, but she was just sad. She missed her friends being together. Missed hanging out with Cam alone. Missed seeing Alicia eat. Having two groups to hang out with was like having two crushes: great in theory but way too complicated in real life.

  Shoving through the bathroom door, she leaned against the cool, shiny steel of one of the stall doors. It was time to admit it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull a Tim Gunn. This just wasn’t working. If she wanted to stay friends with Massie and the Soul-M8s, there was only one option: Somehow, she had to get everybody back together.

  And unless she wanted to spend the rest of her life hiding out in public bathrooms, she had to do it fast.

  THE RIVERA ESTATE

  THE SCREENING ROOM

  Wednesday, October 21st

  4:07 P.M.

  Alicia hovered over the dark wood podium at the front of her house’s home theater, reviewing her PowerPoint slides one last time. Accidentally announcing the details of Massie’s event had forced her to get seriously serious about her dinner party. Everything had to be perfect.

  “Popcorn!” Dylan said gleefully, lifting the individual red-and-white striped snack bag Alicia had personalized for each of her friends. “With peanut M&M’s!” She cracked open the chilled Perrier in her armrest. It fizzed over, soaking her black Design History turtleneck. “Aww, man!” she groaned. “I just changed twenty minutes ago.”

  “Mine has gummies!” Claire was rapidly finger-tapping her armrest and fidgeting in her seat, like she had major gossip and couldn’t wait to spill. Before Alicia could ask her what was up, Kristen interrupted.

  “Carob chips!” Kristen dug into her bag. “My fave. Thanks!”

  Alicia graciously accepted their praise with a modest bow. “Okay, girls. Time to focus.” She clapped twice, accidentally activating the surround-sound system. One of her mom’s Spanish drum CDs blasted from the speakers.

  “Ahhhhhhhhh!”

  Kristen scrunched her nose and Dylan dropped her popcorn and covered her ears.

  Alicia triple-clapped the music off. “Oops. Sorry.”

  “Tell us that’s not for the party.” Dylan ate the spilled popcorn off her lap, combining it with peanut M&M’s.

  “Given.” Alicia tightened the skinny back patent leather belt that she wore over a silver silk blouse.

  “Phew.” Dylan sank back in her love seat, looking relieved. “I don’t want Derrick thinking I listen to that cr—”

  “Let’s get started.” Alicia cut her off, resting her hands on her hips. She had fifty-two hours until her guests arrived, and there was tons to do. “First, I have an announcement to make. Friday night is no longer just a regular couples’ dinner party.” She paused, drinking in the girls’ curiosity like fresh cucumber water. “It’s… a paparazzi party!” A broad smile spread across her face. She’d stayed up half the night coming up with a theme better than Massie’s. Not that “homeless people” was a tough one to beat.

  The girls were silent.

  “You mean, like, we’re supposed to dress up as paparazzi?” Kristen tilted her head to the side, looking confused.

  “Don’t they wear camo so they can hide in the bushes outside celebs’ houses?” Dylan asked, her m
outh full.

  “You’re not supposed to dress like the paparazzi.” Alicia sighed, her excitement leaking slowly. “You’re supposed to dress up like you’re going to a red-carpet event, and there’ll be paparazzi there.”

  “Camo makes my hips looks wide,” Dylan pointed out.

  “Dylan. Nobody but you said anything about camo,” Alicia snapped.

  “So it’s like a red-carpet party?” Claire grinned, still tapping her armrest. She pushed her overgrown white blond bangs behind her ear. They slipped immediately back over her eye.

  “Fine. It’s a red-carpet party.” Had Alicia just let Claire rename her party theme? “So we’ll dress up like we’re going to an awards show with our crushes.”

  “Can we make it a green-carpet party?” Kristen piped up. “Dempsey’ll definitely show if it has an eco-friendly theme.”

  “Opposite of yes,” Alicia snapped.

  “Hey, Leesh? I dunno if Derrick’s gonna be down for Friday night dress-up.” Dylan stretched out on her love seat, a shower of popcorn kernels falling from her lap to the floor. “But I can check.” She reached for her cell.

  “It’s nawt dress-up,” Alicia insisted. Wait a minute. Check? Green carpet? Why were her friends treating the theme like it was negotiable? They’d never questioned any of Massie’s party ideas before. And besides, this wasn’t a democracy. It was a cliquetatorship! Suddenly, her belt felt too tight. She loosened it to give herself some air.

  “Sounds fun,” Claire called out supportively.

  Ehmagawd. That was a pity shout-out if ever she’d heard one. And from Claire, of all people.

  “I love that this is Derrick and my first party as a couple,” Dylan said, slapping her feet excitedly against the leather love seat.

  “Same for me and Dempsey!” Kristen squealed. “Ehmagawd, maybe we’ll lip-kiss at the end of the night.”

  “Us too!” Dylan screeched.

  “Moving on,” Alicia yell-announced. “In your party planning packets, you’ll find your assignments, plus personalized to-do lists.”

  The girls reached for the thick spiral-bound packets propped up against their seats.

  “Dylan. Refreshment duty.” Alicia reached for a tiny electronic remote in the back pocket of her jeans and pressed a button. A white screen descended from the ceiling, and a picture of Dylan in the New Café, laughing with her mouth full of food, lit up the screen. The phrase REFRESHMENT COMMITTEE glowed above Dylan’s red curls. “I tried to give you a job you’d actually be into.”

  “Wait, isn’t your housekeeper handling the food?” Dylan tilted back her head, funneling the remainder of her popcorn bag straight into her mouth.

  Alicia sighed. “I thought you could approve it since, you know, you’ll probably be the only one eating.”

  “Oh. Right.” Dylan flushed.

  Claire raised her hand from her seat in the back.

  “Yes, Claire?” Alicia said warily.

  “Are we sure we want Joyce there?” Claire asked. “I mean, what if she keeps bringing new dishes in and interrupting our time with our crushes?”

  “My lip-kiss!” Dylan gasped. “What if she walks in right when Derrick is about to—”

  “Joyce knows to stay in the kitchen,” Alicia said. “Now, Kristen, your job is to—”

  “And what about your parents?” Claire interrupted. “What if they keep peeking in to check on us?” The corners of her mouth were twitching.

  “My parents will be at the Blocks’ house.” Alicia sighed, wishing she could go upstairs and take a hot bath to melt the stress away. Why did Claire look like she was up to something? Alicia resolved to keep an eye on her for the rest of the meeting. “Now, back to—”

  “What about those security cameras your parents just had put in?” Claire continued, leaning forward in her chair. Her cheeks were flushed, the way they always got when she was nervous or hiding something. “What if your parents go back and watch the footage after the party’s over?”

  “They won’t,” Alicia insisted.

  “What if the cameras catch us lip-kissing?” Kristen gripped her armrest.

  “We could end up on Girls Gone Wild!” Dylan panicked.

  “Or worse!” Kristen said. “America’s Funniest Home Videos!”

  Dylan and Kristen dissolved into nervous giggles. Alicia and Claire just stared at each other.

  “What’s going on, Kuh-laire?” Alicia finally said when the girls’ laughter had died down.

  “Whaddaya mean?” Claire asked, flushing a deeper shade of pink.

  “Claire.” Alicia narrowed her eyes at Claire until she could barely see, hoping this upped her intimidation factor. It worked for Massie. “Spill.”

  “Well…” Claire said slowly, her thumbnail instinctively flying to her mouth. “I was just thinking… maybe we could have the party at my house.”

  “Why would I want to have my dinner party at ‘your house’?” Alicia air-quoted ‘your house,’ since Claire basically lived in Massie’s backyard. Suddenly, the wood-paneled walls of the home theater felt like they were closing in on her. Why was Claire trying so hard to take over? Was she trying to steal Alicia’s spot as alpha? For a millisecond, Alicia understood how Massie must have felt when Alicia wanted to co-lead the Socc-Hers. But then she reminded herself it wasn’t the same thing at all. Alicia was an alpha in dance. She should have been heading up the squad. But since when did Claire have any expertise in party planning?

  “Party stays at my house,” she ruled, smacking her palm against the wooden podium.

  “You sure?” Claire asked, getting bolder by the second. Alicia gripped the sides of the podium, hard. “Because if we had the party at my house, you could spy on Massie’s party. You know what they say: Keep your friends close….” Claire’s voice trailed off.

  Alicia froze. She hadn’t thought of the spy potential. Her mind spun. What was she supposed to do? Give in, and let the girls think Claire was running the show? Or keep the party at her house, and be left completely in the dark about Massie’s party? She stared at Claire, wondering if Claire and Massie were somehow conspiring against her.

  “So whaddaya think?” Claire asked lightly, twirling a white blond strand around her index finger.

  Dylan and Kristen leaned forward expectantly.

  Alicia felt trapped. Backed into a corner. But as much as she didn’t want Claire thinking she could call all the shots, she wanted to be able to spy on Massie more.

  “Just to be clear?” Alicia said. “Even if we do have the party at your house, it’s still my party. Not yours. Got it?”

  “Got it.” Claire speed-bobbed her head.

  Alicia paused, pretending she was still thinking about it.

  “Okay,” she said finally. “The party’s at Claire’s.”

  The girls cheered.

  Claire settled back in her seat contentedly, like she’d just finished a giant Thanksgiving dinner.

  “We’ll start tomorrow decorating after school,” Alicia called over the slap of high fives. “Dean can take us straight to your house, Claire. In the meantime, you can start by getting rid of every LBR-ish item in your house.”

  “Like…” Claire crossed her arms over her chest, but she was still smiling.

  Everything! Alicia wanted to say. Instead, she took a measured breath. “Well, your old T-shirt pillowcases, for one,” she said slowly.

  “And your Keds,” Dylan added gleefully.

  “And those little ceramic angel figurines on your shelves,” Kristen said.

  “Hey!” Claire protested. “Grandma Lyons gave me those!”

  “Exactly,” Dylan deadpanned.

  While the girls chattered about the necessary guesthouse renovations, Alicia kept her eyes on Claire. She still had the feeling something was going on. Like Claire had an ulterior motive. But since she had no idea what that motive could be, Alicia was just going to have to trust her. For now, at least.

  THE BLOCK ESTATE

  MASSIE’S BEDR
OOM

  Wednesday, October 21st

  8:45 P.M.

  After she’d taken Bean and the actors for their nightly walk, Massie lit the Kobo Moon Wisteria soy candle on her bedside table and inhaled deeply. Usually, the sweet, soft scent of jasmine and honeysuckle calmed her. But not tonight. She took three more slow, deep breaths, and turned to face the mess in her room.

  Clothing donations for the fashion show had been arriving at the Blocks’ doorstep all week, and wardrobe boxes were stuffed end-to-end in Massie’s usually pristine white and purple bedroom. Colorful silk, sequins, and satin littered her floor.

  Everything was so chaotic that it seemed more appropriate than ever that she’d made the benefit circus-themed.

  A quick knock sounded on the other side of Massie’s door. Before Massie could shoo the intruder away, Kendra was standing in her room.

  “Good. You’re back,” she said, before registering the disaster state in front of her. Her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes traveled over the wardrobe boxes barfing last season’s threads.

  “I knooow, Mom,” Massie said, kneeling down to fish Bean from beneath a pile. A pink silk head wrap tumbled from the puppy’s mouth like a long, shiny tongue. “And I don’t need a lecture. It’ll be cleaned up by tomorrow.”

  “I hope so,” Kendra murmured, taking a step back toward the doorway as though the mess might attack her. “You can ask Inez for help if you need it.”

  “’Kay.” Massie willed her mom to leave.

  “Where are the models?” Kendra asked, leaning against Massie’s doorframe and smoothing her short dark bob. “Finished with the walk-through already?”

  “Yup,” Massie said, gently wrestling the pink head wrap away from her puppy and tossing it on her bed. “They’re back at the hotel.” She’d told her parents that the MAC girls were models she’d hired from Peace’s agency, and that their nightly walks were rehearsals for the show.