“My mom told me.”
“And who’s your—”
“Merri-Lee Marvil,” everyone said at once.
“Ah.” Lucinda looked down and opened her menu.
“Don’t worry, Luce,” Alicia said, touching Lucinda’s shoulder. “It’s probably a fake item.”
Massie felt her pulse quicken. She widened her amber eyes and placed both of her palms on the table. “You should know!” She didn’t care if the entire restaurant heard her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alicia yelled from the other end of the table.
Paolo swiveled his head back and forth, snapping pictures as though he were shooting a tennis match at Wimbledon.
“It means it takes a fake to know a fake,” Massie hissed. “Those wannabe Louis scarves you’ve been giving out should be illegal. I wouldn’t be surprised if you all have rashes around your necks when you take those things off tonight. And what about those two?” She pointed to Kori and Strawberry. “They’re total knockoff versions of K & D.”
Kristen and Dylan smiled with deep satisfaction and sat up a little taller in their seats.
“Now that I think of it, you do look like Dylan and Kristen,” Harris said to the wannabes.
“Totally,” Cam agreed.
“Thanks,” Kori said sweetly.
“Yeah, thanks.” Strawberry beamed.
Paolo quickly changed his roll of film. Lucinda was scribbling notes on her cloth napkin and saying things like, “Oh this is good,” to herself.
“Why are you taking their pictures?” Massie asked Paolo. She was pointing at Strawberry and Kori. “They aren’t even modeling tomorrow.”
“Whoops,” Paolo said, screwing on his lens cap.
Massie looked at Claire, hoping to find her laughing at the chaotic scene. But Claire seemed oblivious as she slapped her bowl of rice with a piece of edamame.
“What’s wrong?” Massie asked.
“Headache,” Claire said without looking up.
“Oh.” Massie wanted desperately to ask Claire why she’d been ignoring her lately but decided to wait until her headache was gone.
Massie was forced to turn her attention to Derrington.
“So what’s with the shorts?” she asked the second he popped a spicy tuna roll in his mouth. “It’s the middle of winter.”
Derrington held up his hand to let her know he’d answer her when he was done chewing. He made a big show of swallowing and then opened his mouth. “All gone.” He laughed.
“Gross.” Massie giggled. She couldn’t help it. He had a boyish look in his brown eyes that actually made him look cute.
“You’re showing just as much leg as I am,” Derrington said.
“Yeah, but I’m wearing tights,” Massie said, though she was somewhat impressed by the grain of truth in his argument.
“Well, then, honey, next time you’re at the mall, you just mussst pick up a pair for me,” Derrington said in a flamboyant voice. Massie threw her head back and cackled. Alicia watched her, probably wondering what Derrington had said to make Massie laugh so hard.
Alicia hooked a piece of hair behind her ear and turned to Lucinda, pretending to be interested in the story she was telling about a rained-out Hilary Duff shoot in Maui.
“Hey.” Derrington spun in his seat and faced Massie head-on. “What would you rather wear?”
Massie clapped, excited that he liked to play her favorite game. “Shorts all winter long or cashmere sweats all summer?”
“You can buy cashmere sweats?” Massie asked. “Why didn’t I know about that?”
“You can’t, I don’t think,” Derrington said. “I just made that up.”
“Phew.” Massie wiped pretend sweat off her forehead. “I thought I was missing out.”
“So?” Derrington said. “What would you rather?”
“Cashmere sweats,” Massie said, popping a piece of ginger in her mouth.
“Ugh, why?”
“Because I’d be the first one to have them,” Massie said with a smug smile.
This time Derrington threw his head back and laughed. When he straightened up, he batted a messy blond curl away from his eyes and said, “You’re awesome.”
Massie felt a rush of tingly, prickly heat on the bottoms of her feet and immediately wanted to ask if he was joking. No other guy had ever complimented Massie like that except her dad, and he didn’t count. She looked around to see if anyone else heard him say that, but they were still caught up in Lucinda’s Hilary Duff story.
“What would you rather?” Massie asked, desperate to move past the awkward moment. “Shorts or cashmere?”
“Uh, isn’t it obvious?” Derrington said, pointing to his shorts.
“Oh yeah, sorry.” She giggled.
Massie could feel her face turning red. She lowered her head under the table and pulled out her Barneys shopping bag.
“I almost forgot,” she said, handing it to Claire. “This is for you.”
“What is it?” Claire asked. She looked annoyed that Massie was interrupting her conversation with Paolo.
“Open it,” Massie said. “Maybe it will get you out of this mood you’ve been in lately.”
“It’s not a ‘mood.’” Claire moved a piece of avocado around on her plate with a chopstick, then stabbed it.
Massie clenched her fists and tried to keep her breathing slow and steady. “Kuh-laire, did you join the circus?”
“No, why?” Claire sounded bored.
“Because you’ve been acting like a TOTAL FREAK.” Massie heard Derrington laugh and bit her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling. “Now, are you going to take this or what?” She stuck her hand inside the Barneys bag and pulled out Claire’s winter coat. The one she’d left at Cam’s.
“Look,” Massie said, rubbing the puffy down jacket against Claire’s hand. “You can stop wearing all of those ridiculous layers now.”
Claire grabbed the coat and buried her own head in it. “There? Is that better?”
“What are you doing?” Massie screeched.
“Rubbing my face in it.” Claire’s voice was muffled. “Just like you wanted.”
Massie laughed out loud, impressed by Claire’s clever comeback.
But Claire was breathing heavily and her entire face was scrunched up like she had just sucked on a lemon.
“What’s your problem?” Massie pleaded. “You’re acting like a ten-year-old.”
And then, as soon as the words had left her mouth, Massie figured it out. Todd! He must have told Claire he heard Massie saying she liked Cam. Or maybe Alicia told her about the time she saw Massie at the Fishers’. …
“You’re not my friend,” Claire whispered. She pushed her chair back from the table and ran to the bathroom.
Massie sat frozen in her chair.
“Can someone please go make sure she’s okay?” Lucinda said. “We have a long day tomorrow and I don’t need her sulking and bringing everyone down.”
“I’ll go,” Alicia and Massie said simultaneously. They paused and looked at each other. At the exact same moment they both jumped out of their seats and raced through the restaurant to the single restroom by the upstairs bar.
Alicia knocked wildly. “Claire, it’s Leesh—let me help you.”
Massie shoved her out of the way. “Claire, it’s Massie. Let me in—we have to talk.”
“Leave me alone,” Claire sobbed. It sounded like she was choking.
“I’m not leaving until you let me in,” Massie said to the door.
“Go flirt with your boyfriend,” Claire shouted.
“Derrington is not my boyfriend,” Massie shouted back.
Alicia gasped and put her hand on her mouth.
“I’m talking about Cam.” Claire sounded frustrated. “I’m not an idiot.”
“I never said you were an id—”
“Massie, I’m so over you!” Claire wailed. “I don’t care if you throw things at me in the halls or if you spread rumors about me o
r … anything! I’d rather be a complete loser than have you as a friend … you … you boyfriend stealer.” She started crying even harder.
Alicia’s jaw dropped. She had obviously never heard anyone talk to Massie like that before, and the cocky smirk on her face showed that she loved every minute of it.
“Kuh-laire.” Massie pressed her lips right up to the door. “I would never steal your boyfriend. How As the World Turns do you think I am?”
“Alicia told me everything, okay?” Claire said. “She even saw you at his house, so don’t try to lie.”
A line was starting to form outside the bathroom, but Massie did her best to ignore it. “Kuh-laire, I went there to get your coat.”
“Yeah, right!”
Massie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before she continued. “And to tell him that I put you up to the dump,” she said softly.
“Liar,” Claire said flatly.
“I swear on Bean,” Massie said, holding her palm up to the closed door.
“Really?” Claire opened the door slowly. At first she revealed the tip of her nose, then a tear-soaked cheek, and eventually the side of her mouth. “Did you tell him you liked him and that’s why you did it?”
Massie leaned closer to the crack. “Yeah, right!” She rolled her eyes. “I told him that I heard he liked to look up girls’ skirts and that I was looking out for you.”
Massie heard Claire blow her nose and laugh. “And he believed you?”
“Of course,” Massie said.
“Puh-lease, Claire,” Alicia said, pushing up the sleeves of her navy velvet blazer. “Do you really buy that?”
“I believe her,” said an older woman with a neat gray bob and thick black glasses. “Now settle the rest of this on Ricki Lake and let me pee.”
Massie ignored the woman. “Look, if I wanted to steal Cam, I would. Simple as that.”
Claire finally opened the door. She was met with a round of applause from a group of strangers leaning against the wall with their legs crossed tightly. She stepped out of the bathroom and was instantly pushed aside by the woman with the gray bob.
“So does he still like me?” Claire asked Massie.
“Why do you think he’s here?” Massie asked. “I saw him waving to you all night, but you kept looking away.”
“I thought he was waving at you.” Claire sighed. Then her face broke into a slow smile as she processed the news. She giggled with relief.
Massie leaned over the bar and grabbed a stack of cocktail napkins. She handed them to Claire. “Blow.”
Then she held out her arms, hoping for a hug. “Hello? Are you gonna make me stand here like a loser forever?”
Claire sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Maybe.”
“I would,” Alicia said.
But Claire ignored her and hugged Massie.
Alicia made a retching sound and stormed back to the table, trying to look like everything had turned out exactly the way she had wanted it to.
Massie and Claire returned with their arms around each other.
“Where are Cam, Harris, and Derrington?” Claire asked once they sat down.
“Mr. Fisher came to pick them up,” Dylan said. “They’re spending the weekend at his apartment in SoHo.”
“Isn’t our hotel in SoHo?” Claire asked.
“Yes, it is,” Lucinda said while she signed the check. “But there will be no boys tonight. I need my models looking fresh in the morning. Save your flirting for the playground.”
Claire quickly hopped out of her seat. “Look,” she said to Massie, her face glowing. Cam had left a CD on her chair called The Claire Doesn’t Have a Boyfriend in Florida Mix. “How cute is he?”
Claire pinched Massie’s elbow and smiled excitedly. And Massie giggled and pinched back. Only it was the idea of seeing Derrington on Monday that made her happy. That and the fact that she could pinch Claire’s elbow again.
NEW YORK CITY MEAT PACKING DISTRICT
11:45 AM
December 6th
Alicia tightened the white cashmere scarf around her neck, wishing she had chosen a different outfit. Her black drawstring satin karate pants and gray cowl neck were keeping her warm; it wasn’t that. She just didn’t look half as “West Side bohemian with money” as Massie did and was suffering from an extreme case of ensemble envy. Alicia would have given anything to trade her boring Calvin Klein separates for Massie’s wispy knee-length paisley dress and faded boot-cut Juicy jeans. The only thing she had going for her was the Dixon that wrapped around her thigh.
“What is that on your leg?” Lucinda asked. They were standing on the corner of a gritty cobblestone street called Gansevoort in the Meat Packing District, New York City’s latest IT shopping mecca.
“What do you mean?” Alicia said, looking confused. “It’s the Dixon you gave me. The thing Avril was wearing on her cover shoot.”
“Why is it on your leg?”
“You said there were fifty-eight ways to wear it,” Alicia said. “I assume this is one of them.” She looked at Faux-livia for backup.
“Yeah, the leg is number thirty-seven,” Faux said.
“Well, I made a bit of a mistake,” Lucinda said. “That thing you’re wearing was part of the packing materials. It’s a scrap. My brain-dead assistant pulled the wrong thing. The Dixon is really a soft wire accessory that can be bent into fifty-eight different shapes.”
“Oh.” Alicia and Faux-livia quickly rolled the mesh scraps off their legs and tossed them in a trash can. Luckily Massie had been whispering something to Kristen, Claire, and Dylan and missed the whole thing.
“All right, ladies.” Lucinda adjusted her oversized black fleece cowboy hat. “You have until two o’clock to buy the looks you want to wear on the shoot this afternoon.”
“It took me longer to buy a winter coat for my dog,” Massie whined. The girls giggled, so she continued with her gripe. “How are we supposed to find something ah-mazing to wear in two hours? It’s not like we shop in the Meat Packing District every day.”
Alicia had been thinking the same thing and was mad she hadn’t spoken up sooner. “Do you have a floor plan or something?”
Everyone laughed at Alicia’s question.
“I’m only kidding.” She giggled, trying to hide her embarrassment. Alicia was still trying to get over the humiliation she felt after losing Claire to Massie at Sushi Samba. Any more mess-ups and Strawberry, Kori, and Faux-livia would lose all faith in her as an alpha.
“You’ll be fine,” Lucinda said, trying to reassure them. “This area is more concentrated than Paul Mitchell’s Hair Repair.” She smiled to herself. “Scoop, Jeffrey, Stella McCartney, and Alexander McQueen are all right here. If I only shopped in these four stores for the rest of my life, I’d be set.” She tossed her gold-coin-covered scarf over her shoulder. “Let’s move.”
Lucinda led the way. A pigeon lay dead with its guts spilled out in the middle of the road and a group of women in high-heeled boots stepped in it as though it were a glistening drop of spring water. Big green bags of trash were stacked on the curb outside every restaurant they passed, and the smell of chicken feathers hung in the unseasonably still air. Alicia swallowed twice, trying her hardest not to barf up the bagel and cream cheese she had for breakfast.
“Isn’t this neighborhood the coolest?” Lucinda turned around and asked the girls. “You’d never know that just a few years ago, these stores were animal slaughterhouses.”
“Uh, I would,” Massie shouted. She was trailing behind the rest of the group with Kristen, Dylan, and Claire. “It’s disgusting.”
Everyone laughed at Massie’s honest reaction, even Lucinda. And Alicia cursed herself again for not beating Massie to the punch.
“Let’s cross here,” Lucinda said. She stood on the curb in front of the Little Pie Company, waiting for the Pretty Committee to catch up. She reminded Alicia of a parent chaperone on an OCD field trip. “These jagged cobblestone streets will take you down if you’re wearing heel
s, girls, so walk on your tiptoes.”
Paolo jogged backward, snapping shots of all eight girls walking toward their first store. “Girls, will you please get closer together? My lens is only so wide, you know.”
Alicia, Faux, Kori, and Strawberry stopped walking to let Massie, Kristen, Alicia, and Claire catch up. But every time Lucinda slowed down, they did too.
“Ugh,” Paolo said, showing his frustration. “You girls are killing me.”
Lucinda tapped her green leather cowboy boot while she waited for everyone to cross. “Now remember,” she said once they were all together again, “don’t buy anything with horizontal stripes—they make you look wide—no black because it’s dowdy, and nothing with a logo or label on the front. You’re models, not billboards.”
“No labels?” Alicia snapped, pleased with herself for speaking up before Massie.
“Of course no labels,” Massie said. “Do you know how much money the magazine makes on advertising? Why give it away for free when they can get paid for it?”
“She’s absolutely right, Alicia,” Lucinda said to Massie. She was clueless to the growing tensions among the girls. “Wow, I’m impressed.”
Alicia stuck her tongue out at Massie, and Massie responded with one of her cocky half smiles. Paolo managed to capture the entire exchange.
“You girls should have your own reality show,” he said, still walking backward. “This is pure money.”
“You should be on ER,” Massie said to Paolo.
“Why?”
“Because you’re about to fa—” Massie shrieked.
Paolo backed right into a heap of stuffed garbage bags. His long skinny legs shot straight up into the air and disappeared over his head. Three containers of film rolled into the middle of Washington Street.
“Ehmagawd,” the girls shouted.
Alicia looked up at the bloated silver sky, trying her hardest not to laugh. She caught Massie’s eye for a spilt second and thought it looked like she was about to lose it too. Alicia knew that if they were still friends, they’d be doubled over in hysterics.
“I’m okay.” Paolo rolled onto his side, pushed himself off the trash heap, and stood up. He scooped up his camera gear and began blowing on his lens. “Watch out, little girl,” he said to Massie. “I know your bad side.”
Revenge of the Wannabes Page 20
