The Clique

by Lisi Harrison

  “’Kay, what would you rather?” Alicia asked. “A condition that makes you snore twenty-four seven or a condition that makes you fall down every ten seconds?”

  “Snore,” Dylan said.

  “Snore,” Kristen agreed.

  “What would you rather have, a long curly pig’s tail or Chihuahua ears sticking out of the top of your head?” Kristen asked.

  “The tail would be like having one big panty line all the time, so I’m going with Chihuahua ears,” Alicia said.

  “Tail for me!” Dylan said. “I already look like a pig, so I might as well just go with it.” She snorted and stuffed a handful of soy crisps and Junior Mints in her mouth.

  “You do not look like a pig!” Kristen snapped.

  “You just smell like one.” Massie was trying to lighten the mood. The last thing she needed right now was for the night to turn into yet another Dr. Phil session about Dylan and her insecurities.

  “I have one,” Massie offered. “What would you rather be? (a) Completely and utterly friendless or (b) someone with tons of friends who secretly hate you?”

  The other girls were silently weighing their options, but Massie knew her answer right away. She would pick (b) no question—in both scenarios she’d have no friends, but at least in the second scenario she wouldn’t be alone.

  “I’d definitely pick friendless loser.” Alicia flipped her hair. “I wouldn’t want to live a lie.”

  “Same with me,” Kristen agreed.

  “Ditto,” Dylan said. “What about you, Massie?”

  “Friendless loser, of course.” Massie added an eye roll for believability.

  Claire walked into the cabana holding her CD case. Massie saw her examine the sleeping bag situation.

  “What a great setup.” Claire’s cheeks were flushed from running to the different houses. “This is so much better than my brother’s setup. You should see—” Claire stopped talking when she counted four sleeping bags instead of five.

  Massie watched the tiny pulses beat like a heart on the side of Claire’s jaw.

  “Claire, what would you rather be?” Alicia asked. “A friendless loser or a person with tons of friends who secretly don’t like you?”

  “A person with tons of friends who secretly don’t like me,” she said quickly.

  The other girls exchanged a look and Massie couldn’t decide if she thought Claire’s honesty was brave or stupid.

  “Congratulations, you’re halfway there. The ‘friends’ part is the only thing you’re missing,” Alicia tossed off coolly.

  Alicia looked at Massie for approval because her comment was nasty times ten, but she got nothing. Massie’s attention was on the zipper of her sleeping bag, which she was pretending to struggle with.

  “I’m kidding, Claire,” Alicia said. “It was a joke.”

  “Oh, is that what that was?” Claire’s face was bright red, but her voice was calm. “Where I come from, jokes are funny.”

  Kristen laughed but was instantly silenced by Alicia’s glare.

  “Are there any more sleeping bags?” Claire asked, turning toward Massie. “Your mom said you had extras.”

  “In the closet by the bathroom,” Massie said. Everyone sat there for a second, not moving.

  “Guess what I have?” Dylan broke the silence. She waved a piece of paper around in the air. “Cute coma guy’s phone number.”

  “NO way, let me call.” Alicia pulled the paper out of Dylan’s hands and the girls gathered around Alicia so they could all listen in. “I can’t believe I’m about to talk to the hottest guy on Young and the Restless,” Alicia whispered to her friends.

  “Hello?” a guy’s voice answered.

  “It’s him,” Alicia mouthed. “Uh, yeah, this is May, your dead wife. I know what you and Melanie did and as soon as you come out of that coma, I will haunt you for the rest of your life.” The girls laughed so hard they shook.

  Massie snuck a peek at Claire, who was setting up her sleeping bag outside the circle.

  Another man’s voice got on the line. “Honey, who is it?” he asked.

  Alicia slammed the phone down and shouted, “Oh my gawd, cute coma guy is gay!”

  “Someone should tell his mistress, Melanie, that her boy isn’t who she thinks he is,” Kristen said.

  “Speaking of boys, I can’t believe you’re going riding at Galwaugh Farms with Chris Abeley tomorrow.” Dylan rolled over on her sleeping bag so she was lying on her stomach. Her knees were bent and her chin was propped up on her hands. The other girls assumed the same position so all of their heads faced each other.

  “What are you going to wear?” Kristen asked.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it,” Massie said.

  Claire was tempted to shout, “Puh-lease! I’ve watched you try on outfits all week from my bedroom window.”

  But she didn’t.

  “What if he tries to kiss you?” Dylan asked. “He is fifteen, you know.”

  “Then I’ll kiss him back.” Massie smeared a glob of lip gloss on her lips like a cunning soap opera seductress and attacked her pillow.

  Ewwwwws and laughter filled the room.

  Massie lifted her head out of the pillow and smoothed her disheveled hair.

  “A few cherries to rub on your lips and you’ll be good to go.” Dylan looked at Kristen with her hands clasped together like she was a starving beggar.

  “Will you guys stop bugging me about this homemade cosmetics company thing?” Kristen said. “You’ve been driving me crazy.”

  “Yeah, Dylan, maybe the idea of being rich and powerful isn’t Kristen’s thing,” Massie said.

  “Right now all I’m interested in is an A,” Kristen said. She looked at her friends’ pleading faces and let out a heavy sigh. “Let’s just say I agreed—what would we call it?”

  “What about Homebody?” Dylan said. “It’d be, y’know, ironic. Because people would wear it when they were going out.”

  “I think it should be something more glamorous,” Massie said. “Don’t you, Kristen?”

  Dylan rolled her eyes and took tiny squirrel-size bites out of the last soy chip.

  “I totally agree,” Kristen nodded.

  “What about Shimmer Down?” Claire asked.

  No one responded.

  “I’ve got it,” Massie announced. “Glambition!”

  “I love it.” Kristen smiled.

  “Me too,” Alicia added.

  Dylan and Claire were silent.

  “Let’s do it.” Kristen lifted her bottle of Perrier and the rest of the girls did the same.

  “To Glambition!” They clinked their bottles and gulped their lemon-lime seltzers. The fizz burned against their throats and they all let out big ahhhhhs when they finished swallowing.

  Then everyone changed into their pajamas, except for Alicia, who stayed in her T-shirt and bra. They started settling into their sleeping bags.

  “Does anyone want to hear a ghost story?” Claire asked from across the room.

  “Sure,” Massie said before the other girls could protest.

  “Can I borrow that flashlight?” Claire asked Massie.

  “Yep,” Massie said. “I’ll get it.”

  She was a little more agreeable than usual and Claire couldn’t help wondering why.

  “Can we turn off all the lights?” Claire asked.

  “Allow me,” Massie said with a half smile.

  Once the room was pitch black, Claire positioned the flashlight under her chin and turned it on.

  “The red reflection from the flashlight makes you look like Satan,” Alicia said.

  “I am Satan,” Claire growled in a slow scary whisper. “Now I want you all to lie down.”

  “Yes, teacher,” Kristen sing-songed.

  Giggles broke out.

  “Okay. Ready?” she asked without expecting an answer.

  “A guy is driving to the movies with his girlfriend one night and it starts to thunder. Suddenly a flash
of lightning strikes and the streetlights go out.… It’s a total blackout.” Claire paused for dramatic effect before continuing. “They decide to pull over to the side of the empty highway to wait until the storm lightens up a bit. They start making out because there’s really nothing else for them to do, when suddenly the car radio comes on by itself and—”

  Claire was cut off by Alicia, who sneezed the word boring.

  “ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz.” Dylan made a snoring noise.

  “Mi mi mi mi mi mi mi mi miiiiii,” Kristen joined in.

  By this point Alicia, Dylan, Kristen, and Massie were in complete hysterics and Claire was lying on her back staring at the ceiling fan.

  Eventually the laughter died down and a hush fell over the room.

  “I’m tired,” Dylan said. And then everyone was silent.

  Massie hated this part of sleepovers, the winding down. She hated being the last one awake, so usually she would ask one of the girls a question that required a really long answer and while they were talking, she would try to fall asleep. But before Massie had a chance, Alicia broke the silence by making a loud fart noise with her mouth.

  “Claire!” she said. “Was that you?”

  The girls laughed, but in a tired, lazy way.

  “Actually, Alicia, I thought it was your boobs rubbing together,” Claire said.

  Massie buried her face in the pillow so no one would hear her laugh.

  “I wish it was your thighs rubbing together on your way back to 0-Town,” Alicia snapped.

  After that no one said anything. Massie couldn’t tell if everyone had fallen asleep or if they were just pretending.

  She held her breath for a second so she could listen for any whimpering sounds that might be coming from Claire. But there weren’t any.

  Massie felt vaguely uneasy, and she knew sleep was out of the question. She pulled Bean close and thought of the first time she’d seen the dog in the pet store window. Bean was no bigger than a hamster, but she was in a cage with two golden retrievers and a Jack Russell terrier. Every time she went to play with one of the squeaky toys, the other dogs yapped at her so she would drop it. But Bean never did. Even when she got pounced on and clawed, she held on to the toy as hard as she could. That toy was what she wanted and she wasn’t letting go. Massie admired that fighting quality in her dog, but at the same time it made her heart hurt in a way she couldn’t quite figure out. She now found herself feeling the exact same thing about Claire.

  Massie heard someone stirring. She closed her eyes three-quarters of the way so whoever it was wouldn’t know she was awake.

  It was Claire. She was rolling her sleeping bag up as quietly as she possibly could. After three rolls she’d pause, check to see that no was had woken up, and then she’d roll some more. Once she was packed up, she slipped out the front door.

  Massie waited to make sure no one else was awake and then got up. “Where are you going?” Massie whispered. She stood in the doorway with Bean and watched Claire walk barefoot across the damp grass.

  “I can’t sleep—I’m going home.” Claire paused. “I mean, I’m going to your guesthouse.”

  Massie looked over at her sleeping friends. She closed the door before speaking again.

  “Why don’t you stay? We were just joking around. We do it to everyone,” Massie said.

  “I’d just rather sleep on a mattress than a floor,” Claire lied. Massie could hear that she was holding back tears.

  “Well, if you’ve got to go, use my flashlight for the walk home,” Massie said. “Hold on, I’ll run inside and get it.”

  Massie walked back to the house, confused. It wasn’t her fault if Claire had social problems. Right? So why did she suddenly feel a weird desire to help her?

  Massie found the flashlight where Claire had been lying. She walked outside on the cold grass. “I found it,” Massie whispered. But Bean’s jingling collar was all she heard.

  “Claire?” Massie said into the night air.

  “Claire!”

  The sound of her own voice echoed in her head and it sounded creepy, like it didn’t belong to her. Maybe because she’d said Claire’s name with a trace of concern, maybe because it was the first time she’d called someone’s name and gotten no response, or maybe because she felt like a Christmas tree, all alone in the dark, with no one to appreciate her.

  THE GUESTHOUSE CLAIRE’S BEDROOM

  12:18 A.M. September 6th

  “Excuse me,” Claire said softly, “would you mind getting out of my bed?” She nudged the stranger with the dyed blue hair, but he showed no signs of life.

  “Hey,” she said, “you gotta get up.”

  “Hmmm.” The boy made banana-chewing sounds with his mouth and rolled over to the other side of the bed.

  “Hey!” Claire barked. “Wake up!”

  She tried to lift him, but he felt more like a sandbag than a ten-year-old boy. Claire placed her bare foot on the guy’s back. “Get”—she pushed him toward the edge of the bed—“Off!” She heard a thud.

  “What are ya doin’?” the boy asked.

  “Take my blanket and go find a space in the living room with my brother and the rest of his friends,” she said.

  Once he was gone, Claire shook out her comforter and wrapped it around her. She looked like a sushi roll.

  Claire wiggled her hands free and reached for her Elph. She propped her head up against the wooden headboard and snapped a photo of herself. Once the shot was taken, she looked at it on the tiny monitor in the back of the camera and named it “Rock Bottom” because she looked sad and pathetic. Her eyes were hollow and her expression said “mug shot,” not “Having a great time in Westchester, wish you were here.” This picture was not for her friends in Florida; it was for her. Claire promised she would look at it every time she wanted to believe that she and Massie could be friends.

  “So what if Massie is always having fun?” she said to herself. “So what if they’re starting a makeup company together? So what if they think I’ll never be good enough for them. It’s their loss! I’m moving on.”

  Claire repeated these words over and over again, hoping that by morning she would start to believe them.

  THE BLOCK ESTATE OUTSIDE THE MAIN HOUSE

  11:50 A.M. September 6th

  Claire sat on a cement block beside a stone statue of a lion. There was an identical one to the left of her, but she chose to sit on the one in the direct sunlight.

  She was wearing the dark denim flair jeans the nurse had given her and a white T-shirt with baby blue rhinestones around the neck. It was the closest thing she had to something Massie would wear, which was probably what Layne would be expecting. Luckily the jeans were long enough to cover ninety percent of the Keds.

  A black Jaguar pulled into the driveway, but Claire didn’t notice Layne. She was too busy trying to get a better look at the really cute guy in the passenger seat. A head of messy hair and a brown leather jacket were all she needed to see to know that he was a WB guy—hot, dangerous, and surprisingly vulnerable.

  Layne waved frantically from the backseat while she gathered her stuff. Claire waved back with one hand and checked her bangs with the other.

  “Claire, this is my dad, Eric,” Layne said when she stepped out of the car.

  “Nice to meet you,” Claire said to the driver.

  “And this is my brother, Chris.” Layne pointed to a guy in the front seat.

  Chris leaned over his father’s seat so he could see Claire.

  “What’s up?” Chris brushed his floppy, blond hair out of his eyes and gave Claire a brilliant smile.

  “Uh, you know.” Claire instantly hated herself for sounding so lame.

  “Nice pool,” Chris said.

  “Thanks.” Claire looked down at her jeans and let out a modest giggle just in case he thought her response sounded conceited.

  “Remember, no swimming,” Eric told his daughter. “Not until that ear infection is gone.”

  “Don’t worry.” L
ayne winked.

  “Layne Jane Abeley, I mean it. No Swimming!” he said.

  All of the sudden a flashbulb went off in Claire’s head. Layne’s last name was Abeley. Her brother was Chris. That meant this was Chris Abeley. Theee Chris Abeley.

  Claire lowered her head closer to the car window. “You don’t go to Briarwood, do you?” she asked.

  “Yup, I’m a freshman!” he said with exaggerated enthusiasm.

  “My brother just started in the middle school. He’s much younger than you, but his name is Todd Lyons, you know, in case you happen to meet him.” Claire realized she was rambling and couldn’t tell if it was because his eyes were so blue or because she could not believe she was talking to the guy Massie was in love with. He was like a minicelebrity.

  “You kidding me? I know Todd. I love that kid. He spit-balled a raisin right at the headmaster’s eye and then escaped down the hall. Turns out I got blamed because I was standing there when it happened and I couldn’t stop laughing,” he said. This time his enthusiasm was genuine. “I had to serve detention after school for that, but it was worth it.”

  “Well, that sounds like Todd, all right. Hey, wanna, come say hi to him?” Claire said. “He’s over by the pool.”

  “Absolutely,” Chris said. “Dad, I’ll be right back.”

  When Claire got to the side of the house, she glanced up to make sure Massie was still in her bedroom. As soon as she saw her standing in the window, Claire did everything she could to get her attention.

  “Todd! TODD! Look who’s here,” she called. She didn’t care if her brother heard, as long as Massie did.

  “Looks like he’s feeling better.” Layne gave a sincere smile.

  It took Claire a second to realize what Layne was talking about. “Oh yeah, he’s fine,” she said. “Thank God!”

  “Heyyyy, buddy,” Chris Abeley said when he saw Todd riding an inflatable dolphin in the pool.

  Claire saw Massie’s curtains move to the side of her window. Showtime.

  “Oh my God, Chris.” Claire grabbed Chris and looked him straight in the eye. “There’s something totally gross in your hair. Let me get it out for you.” She lifted her hand toward his face and slowly brushed his long bangs to the side of his forehead. Then she ran her fingers through his shaggy hair. Above her, the curtains swung shut.