Kristen and Dylan stood beside each other with a look of utter panic in their eyes.
“What did she just say?” Dylan asked Kristen. Her eyes were still fixed on Massie and the scarf.
“It’s Latin for ‘you too, Brutus?’” Kristen explained. “It’s what Julius Caesar said when he found out his friend Brutus was one of the people who betrayed him.”
“Oh.” After a brief pause Dylan spoke again. “Well, if anyone betrayed anyone, it’s you.” She pointed to Massie. “You’re the Brutus.”
“How am I the Brutus? You’re the one who joined Alicia’s army.”
“We only joined because we had to,” Kristen chimed in. “She threatened to tell our secrets if we didn’t.”
“What secrets?” Massie screeched.
“The ones we trusted you with,” Kristen said. “The ones you told her.”
“I didn’t tell her anything,” Massie said. “We pinky-swore!”
“That obviously doesn’t mean anything to you,” Dylan said.
Massie gasped. She threw her Prada bag over her shoulder and marched toward the exit.
Dylan and Kristen followed her.
“Wait, Miss Marvil.” Collette scurried across the store carrying three bags of clothes and an unsigned credit card slip.
“Signature, please,” Collette panted. She clicked her pen and held it in front of Dylan’s face.
Dylan kept walking while she scribbled her mother’s name on the slip. She placed the black plastic tray in a mannequin’s hand and continued after Massie.
“Thank you, Merri-Lee,” Collette shouted before she dropped Dylan’s bags beside the security guard. “Happy holidays.”
“How could Alicia possibly know everything we told you at the sleepover if you didn’t tell her?” Dylan shouted at Massie.
Massie stopped and turned around. “I have no idea. Maybe she guessed.”
“Well, for some reason she didn’t guess about you liking Cam,” Kristen shouted after her.
Massie stomped her foot on the ground. “Will you be quiet? There are people from school all over the place. What if someone hears you?”
“Now you know how we feel,” Dylan said.
“I didn’t tell Alicia anything,” Massie insisted. “Besides, if you really thought I betrayed you, why would you go shopping with me?”
“We needed a ride.” Kristen shrugged.
“Nice. Thanks a lot,” Massie said. She walked straight through the metal detector and back into the mall, where she was instantly surrounded by a torrent of holiday shoppers.
Kristen ran after her. “I would rather be poor than a liar.”
“Congratulations, you got your wish,” Massie shouted over her shoulder.
Suddenly a piercing alarm rang in BCBG. Massie stopped and turned. She saw the customers cover their ears and crane their necks, hoping they might see something. But all anyone saw was a beefy security guard grab Kristen by the arm and yank her back into the store. She had run out in the T-shirt dress and the tags had triggered the alarm. Dylan hurried to her rescue, waving her black AmEx in the guard’s face.
Massie snaked her way through the crowds, desperate to escape before anyone from school saw her crying. She wiped her eyes at least ten times, but the tears kept coming. How could they not? Her worst fears had come true: the Pretty Committee had officially fallen apart and she was stuck at the mall without a credit card.
“Finally.” Massie sighed when she got to Sears. No one from school shopped there.
Massie took out her phone and speed dialed Isaac. She waited for him beside the men’s ties and watches.
“Are you lost, dear?” a nice old saleslady asked when she heard Massie’s heaving sobs. “Did you lose someone?”
Massie tried to smile. “Kind of,” she said. “But I’ll be okay.”
THE BLOCK ESTATE
3:45 PM
December 2nd
Massie ran up the stairs two at a time and darted into her bedroom. She slammed the door behind her and went straight to her bay window to see if Claire was in her room. She was desperate to tell someone about her brutal experience at the mall. But Claire’s blinds were closed, just like they had been all week.
Massie tried calling again. “Hi, Judi, is Claire home yet?” She used her most polite voice.
“No, she’s still out with Layne,” Judi said. “I told you I’ll give her the message as soon as she gets home.”
Something was definitely going on and Massie hung up, wondering if Judi was lying to her. For the last few days it seemed like Claire was never home. Her blinds were always shut and she never replied to IMs. She even flaked on their homework plans and showed no interest in coat shopping. Maybe she was still mourning Cam. Massie understood that. After all, she missed him too.
Massie checked her inbox. No messages. Same with her voice mail. She had never felt so lonely in her entire life. Even her parents were out with friends.
“Bean,” Massie shouted. “Be-ean?” She felt her heart starting to race. Did Bean leave too? “BEANNNNN!”
Massie called a few more times before she heard her dog’s familiar bark coming from the front hallway. She hurried down the steps. Bean whimpered and jumped into Massie’s open arms.
Massie squeezed her dog and kissed the top of her tiny black head. “Ehmagawd, what are you wearing?” A red satin cape had been tied around her neck.
“Where are you, Red Riding Hood?” Massie heard a squeaky boy’s voice call. Bean squirmed in Massie’s arms.
“Hullo? Who’s there?” she called, holding Bean close to her chest and reaching for her cell phone holster. She gripped the top of the Motorola and slowly pulled it out, ready to dial 911.
“Goldberg, is that you?” someone said. Massie recognized the voice and tucked her phone away. “Todd?”
“Uh, yeah, hi,” he said. He walked into the front hall dressed in a pair of women’s black tights. His chest was completely bare.
“What are you doing?” Massie untied Bean’s cape and threw it on the ground. “And what did you do to Bean?”
“Nathan and I are wrestling,” he said, as if it were obvious. “I’m Goldberg and he’s Eddie Guerrero. AND IF HE DOESN’T COME OUT OF HIDING SOON, I’M GOING TO GIVE HIM THE JACKHAMMER.”
“Oh yeah?” a mousy voice called from the living room. “WELL, I’M GOING BUST OUT MY LASSO FROM EL PASO AND ROPE YOUR NECK.”
Just then Tiny Nathan ran out from behind the curtains, wearing the same outfit as Todd. They chased each other around the room until Todd threw himself on top of Tiny Nathan.
“Stop it!” Massie yelled. “STOP! ENOUGH!”
Todd was squeezing Nathan’s head between his kneecaps. “Say Goldberg is the world champ,” he insisted. “SAY IT!”
“What is going on?” Massie insisted. She pulled Todd off Tiny Nathan. “Why are you in my house?”
“There’s more room to wrestle here,” Todd said. “It’s like ten times bigger than the guesthouse.”
“Why are you wrestling?” Massie was getting impatient.
“Because Alicia got us box seats for the WWE Smackdown and we’re going tonight,” Nathan chirped.
“Oh,” Massie said sarcastically. Then all of a sudden something strange occurred to her.
“Alicia got you tickets?” Massie asked.
“Yeah,” Todd said, puffing out his chest. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately. Way more than you and I ever did. Wayyy more.”
Massie put her hands on her hips. “Is that supposed to make me jealous, Todd?”
“Yeah,” Todd said. “Is it working?”
In a tiny way it was. He was another person who’d left Massie for Alicia.
“It is working, isn’t it?” Todd said. “Look at you—your face is getting red. You’re jealous.”
Massie rolled her eyes. There had to be some kind of explanation for all of this. … And in a flash everything became clear. Alicia was walking around with top secret info and Todd
, the infamous eavesdropper, had box seats. It all made perfect sense.
“Okay, well, have fun at the show,” Massie said, turning toward the stairs. “Oh, one question,” she called down to Todd. “Do you know the name of the fat camp in upstate New York? I have a friend who’s interested and I spaced on the name.”
“St. Barf’s,” Todd called back.
“Thanks.” Massie smiled to herself. Case closed.
She ran back down the stairs and pushed Todd into the living room. “Take that, Goldberg,” she said as she slammed him against the leopard print wallpaper. “You better start talking or I’m going to show you my version of the Smackdown. And there won’t be anything fake about it.”
THE FISHER HOUSE
4:00 PM
December 2nd
Alicia whispered into her phone, “You’re not going to believe this, but I’m standing in Harris Fisher’s bedroom.”
“No way,” Faux-livia said.
“Swear,” Alicia barked. “Four-way Strawberry and Kori and I’ll tell you what I see. Hurry, he’ll be back from the bathroom any minute.”
“No problem,” Faux-livia said. “How do I do it?”
“Ugh, are you serious?” Alicia hung up. “Useless,” she grumbled.
The musky smell of boy’s deodorant mixed with laundry detergent and sweaty socks was everywhere. Alicia wasn’t sure if she actually liked the odor but decided she’d better get used to it.
She lifted her cell phone and took a picture of his chocolate brown walls. They were covered in posters of Al Pacino, Marlon Brando, and a bunch of rock bands Alicia couldn’t care less about.
“Cute.” Alicia sighed when she saw his twin beds and their matching blue comforter covers. She took a picture of his color-coordinated throw pillows.
Alicia got shots of his white digital clock radio, the stack of Car and Driver magazines by his bed, and a glass of moldy orange juice.
A Sports Illustrated swimsuit calendar was tacked above his computer and Alicia leaned in to see what he had planned for the holidays. Were they going to any of the same parties? THE STROKES was written in big red letters beside the dates of their New York tours. Just below that, in blue he’d written, ASK “A” TO GO.
Alicia’s palms started to sweat uncontrollably and she fought the urge to scream. “Ehmagawd,” she whispered to herself.
Alicia took four pictures of the calendar and then quickly stuffed her phone in her pocket when she heard Harris’s footsteps.
“Sorry ’bout that,” he said as he strolled back into the room. He pulled a black tube of ChapStick out of his Levi’s pocket and smeared the peach-colored wax all over his naturally red lips.
“It’s okay.” Alicia giggled. She shifted from one foot to the other before leaning back and resting her butt on the edge of his dark wood desk. … Now what?
When Harris had driven her home, the music in his Mustang was blasting, so they didn’t have to talk. But it was silent in his bedroom and he was staring straight at her.
“Cool shirt,” Alicia said, pointing to his baggy white tee. “Who makes that?”
Harris turned his neck and pulled the label out of the back. “Hanes.”
“Love them,” Alicia said. She turned her head slightly to the side and raised her eyebrows, forcing herself to look into his green eyes. She had seen that move drive a man wild on The Young and the Restless. But Harris didn’t seem to notice. He sat on his bed and grabbed his iPod off the night table. He started clicking through his playlists. Once he found the right song, he pushed a button and a loud, thrashing guitar solo blasted through his speakers and filled the room with the sound of angst.
“How awesome is this?” he said, playing air guitar.
Alicia loved watching his long dark bangs flop around his face. Their kids would definitely have perfect hair.
“So, uh, what are you doing this weekend?” she asked, hoping he would finally ask her to the concert. The anticipation was maddening.
“You know, the usual.” He was still strumming.
“Cool,” Alicia shouted over the music. And then, in a final attempt to do something sexy, she winked.
“No way,” Harris said. “My chemistry teacher has the exact same eye twitch as you. I think it’s kind of cute. But then again, anything’s cute on a hottie.” He flashed Alicia a mischievous smile. She could feel herself blush.
“I don’t have an eye twitch,” she said with a playful lilt in her voice. “But I sooo love that you think I’m a hottie.”
Harris threw his head back and laughed.
“Actually it’s my chemistry teacher who’s the hottie. You should see her. She looks like Halle Berry, you know, but with a twitch.” Harris held his gaze on Alicia for a second too long. She scratched her forehead, hoping her hand would cover her pout.
Harris turned down the music, moved closer to Alicia, and put his arm around her. “You’ll be even hotter than her, though, when you get older,” he said.
Alicia smiled. “Whatevs,” she said softly.
Harris backed away from Alicia and sat on the edge of his bed. “So, do you have the Strokes tickets?” He rubbed his hands together as if he were trying to stay warm.
“Given,” Alicia said. She opened her green Coach vintage hobo bag and pulled out a small yellow envelope. “Here.”
Harris grabbed it and fell backward onto his bed. He pulled the tickets out and examined them. “Box seats! You rule!”
Alicia said nothing. She was still trying to adjust to the fact that he would choose his twitchy chemistry teacher over her.
Harris leaned over the side of his bed and pulled out an old tin film canister. He pried it open with his thumb and pulled out a thin stack of twenties. He counted out $180 and handed it to Alicia.
“No, that’s okay,” she said, waving her hand at the cash. “Consider it an early holiday present.”
Harris’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, even though he said the required, “Naw, I couldn’t. I’d feel terrible.”
“Well, maybe I could go with you, then.” She was tired of waiting for him to ask her. “And then you won’t feel so bad.”
“That would be great,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Harris nodded.
“Cool, I can pick you up in my limo, or you can drive the Mustang if you want; it’s your call—”
“But I already promised my friend Angela.”
“Oh.” Alicia felt her throat dry up.
Harris held out his arm, offering the money again. Alicia shook her head and pretended to pull a piece of hair off her low-cut sweater. She thought of how excited she had been when she saw his calendar and punched herself in the thigh for being so stupid.
“What was that for?” Harris asked, walking toward her.
“Leg cramp.”
Harris grabbed Alicia by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. Then he took her in his arms and squeezed her tight. But she knew this was nothing more than a pity hug.
Alicia pulled back, anxious to get away from his musty armpit. Then she lifted her dark eyes and looked up at him.
“Can I call you in a few days?” he asked with a warm smile.
“Given.” Alicia could feel herself blush. Maybe there was hope. Maybe Angela was just a friend. Maybe …
“The White Stripes are about to announce their tour dates and I’d kill for box seats to their show.”
The “game over” sound effect from Todd’s video games played in Alicia’s head. “’Kay, well, I have to go.”
“Thanks again,” Harris said, flashing every white tooth in his beautiful mouth.
“Yup.” Alicia picked her leather bag off the floor and stormed out of his room, slamming the door behind her. She considered running back in and blaming her dramatic exit on a sudden gust of wind. But why bother? If he wanted to think she was upset, let him. Maybe next time he would think twice about using her.
The tears started to come and Alicia raced down the stair
s, hoping to get away before she ran into Cam. She had been humiliated enough for one day … or so she thought.
When Alicia opened the front door, she gasped.
“Massie?” Alicia said. She hadn’t spoken to her ex-friend in days and her name sounded strange coming out of Alicia’s mouth.
Massie looked away. “Is Cam here?”
“Hi, Alicia.” Cam appeared from the kitchen with a smile. “Come on in, Massie.”
“Thanks.” Massie pushed past Alicia.
“Is Harris still upstairs?” Cam asked.
“Oh yyyeah.” Alicia tried to look sexy and devious when she answered him. She wanted Massie to think they had spent the afternoon kissing. “I had to tear myself away because I have to meet a bunch of friends. It wasn’t easy.” “Uh, okay.” Cam looked confused.
“Cam, let’s go to your room.” Massie smacked him playfully on the butt and he took off up the stairs. She chased after him.
“Bye, Alicia!” Cam yelled.
But Alicia was too choked up to answer. She let herself out and ran toward her silver-and-red Schwinn that she had dumped on the lawn.
Once she was halfway down Holly, Alicia cried openly. She hated that Harris chose Angela over her. But most of Alicia’s tears were for Massie. They were complete strangers.
If they hadn’t been fighting, Alicia would have been on the phone with Massie right now, making plans to meet at Starbucks. Once they got there, they would have sat beside each other on the purple velvet couch by the window, blowing on their fattening chai lattes and resting their feet on the coffee table in front of them. Alicia would have made Massie pinky-swear that she would not repeat the truth about Harris. And Massie would explain why she was going behind Claire’s back to be with Cam. By the time the sugar and caffeine kicked in, they would be doubled over laughing.
But now that Alicia and Massie were enemies, there would be no meeting at Starbucks.
The tears were coming even harder now and Alicia wiped her eyes with the Louis Vuitton scarf that was tied around her wrist. The Block estate was only five minutes away and if she pedaled fast enough, she could be there in three. She was desperate to tell Claire what really happened at the Fishers’ house. Of course she would skip the part about Harris and Angela and go straight to the story about Massie and Cam.
Revenge of the Wannabes Page 17
