The Clique

by Lisi Harrison

  “Is it gone?” Chris Abeley asked Claire.

  “Yeah, it’s gone,” Claire said. “I hear gross stuff in your hair is good luck, though.”

  She never thought she’d be the type of person who would resort to mind games, but then again, she’d never imagined she’d be in a situation where she would need them. Claire felt pleased with herself but also sort of sick.

  “Well, I better get going,” Chris said. “I’m going riding this afternoon.”

  After Chris was gone, Layne picked up a dandelion, closed her eyes, and blew the fuzz into the wind. “Wanna make a wish?” Layne asked. She snapped another flower from the ground and handed it to Claire.

  “Do I ever.” Claire shut her eyes tight and then blew hard enough to bust a lung. “There. Your brother seems really nice.”

  “Yeah, he’s pretty cool,” Layne said. “You should see how happy Fawn is now that he’s back from boarding school.”

  “Who’s Fawn?” Claire asked. “Your dog?”

  “Hardly,” Layne said. “She’s his disgustingly beautiful girlfriend. They’ve been dating since the seventh grade.”

  As soon as Claire heard that, she searched the ground for more dandelions.

  “These things are great!” she said, her hands full of rubbery green stems. “They totally work!”

  They walked through the ravine in the woods behind the house, taking pictures of creeks, each other, and bugs. They sat on a fallen tree trunk so Layne could eat oatmeal from her thermos while Claire watched in disgust, craving Gummy Feet.

  She thought about the what-would-you-rather question Massie had asked at the sleepover—no friends versus friends who hate you—only now she wished there’d been a choice (c), to have one true friend even if everyone else openly hated her. Claire would have picked that.

  THE BLOCK ESTATE MASSIE’S BEDROOM

  12:45 P.M. September 6th

  “Why would I be making it up?” Massie shouted into her Motorola. She was in the middle of a heated four-way call.

  “I just can’t believe Slow Layne is Chris Abeley’s sister,” Dylan said.

  “I can’t believe Claire was stroking his hair!” Alicia sounded mad.

  “If we’d left your house a half hour later, we would have seen the whole thing,” Kristen said.

  Massie was looking in the mirror, wondering what she would look like with bangs. She folded the front of her hair in half and pinned it across her forehead. She stepped back and tried to see herself through Chris’s eyes. Who knows? Maybe bangs were his thing. But she decided it looked like she was wearing a visor and took it down.

  “Hold on. You don’t think he likes Claire, do you?” Dylan asked.

  “Impossible,” Massie said.“Right?”

  “Puh-lease, he’s giving her the time of day because she’s the first person who’s ever been nice to his sister,” Dylan said.

  Massie was about to ask Kristen what she thought of the whole situation, but just then a voice in the background called out, “Kristen, it’s been six minutes.”

  “I know, Mom, I was just hanging up,” Kristen called. “Okay, well, thanks for helping me with that homework question. I get it now. Talk to you later, bye.” She always did that when her mother caught her talking on the phone any longer than her five-minute allowance.

  “What are you going to do?” Alicia asked with a trace of panic in her voice.

  “Anything my new best friend Layne wants,” Massie said. “I should go. Chris Abeley left my house twenty minutes ago and should be at Galwaugh by now. I don’t want to miss him. Wish me luck!” She hung up the phone without saying goodbye. Ten minutes later, one final look in the mirror, and Massie was ready to ride. Her custom-made evergreen riding jacket and her Hermés riding crop gave her that extra confidence she needed. That, and her conversation cheat sheet.

  I CAN TALK TO A 15-YEAR-OLD ABOUT …I CANNOT TALK TO A 15-YEAR-OLD ABOUT …

  PS2, XBOX, GAMECUBE HOUSE PARTIES LAYNE—HIS SUPER-COOL SISTER NINTENDO BIRTHDAY PARTIES INSANE LAYNE—HIS SALVATION-ARMY-LOVING, OATMEAL-OBSESSED SISTER

  The Galwaugh Farms main office was very Ralph Lauren. It was pure rustic log cabin on the outside and très Aspen ranch on the inside. Colorful Indian blankets were haphazardly placed over deep leather chairs, and old hardcover books lined the wood shelves. Even in the dead of summer the smell of pine was overwhelming. To Massie it was a home away from home. She checked in and very casually asked the girl at the desk what trail Tricky (and Chris Abeley) was on. When she found out it was Shady Lane, she ran to the stables and got Brownie.

  “Ready for our first double date?” Massie asked Brownie. “Do you have any idea how cute you and Tricky look together? So, what do you think of me and Chris?” She looked over her shoulder after she said that to make sure he wasn’t sneaking up on her again. “You don’t think he likes Claire, do you?” she whispered. “She’s probably way too plain for him, right?”

  Unlike Bean, Brownie wasn’t much of a conversationalist. But his ears were always wide open.

  Shady Lane was lined on either side with giant weeping willows and was always dark and chilly. Massie had wanted to wear her long blazer and riding gloves because she knew how the pine trees blocked the sun this time of year, but she didn’t want Chris Abeley to think she’d put too much thought into her outfit. She wanted everything about her to seem effortless.

  “Woo-hooooo!” a voice hollered from behind her.

  Sure enough, Chris Abeley and Tricky were rushing toward them.

  “How did you get behind me?” Massie shouted over her shoulder. She tapped Brownie with her riding crop while she spoke, hoping to pick up speed.

  “I was hiding in the bushes,” Chris Abeley said.

  “Did you hear what I was saying to Brownie?” Massie asked. She prayed the answer was no.

  “Wait, I thought you didn’t talk to your horse.” Chris smiled. “You are so busted!”

  Massie had no choice but to laugh.

  “Last one to the lake talks to horses!” Chris said. “No shortcuts.” And away he went.

  Massie loved the way Chris rode. One hand held the blue New York Yankees baseball hat on his head and the other gripped the reins.

  “This is it, Brownie, get ’em!” Massie said. The horse let out a whinny and turned around and started charging toward Tricky.

  Massie pulled up beside Chris Abeley and stuck her arm out as far as it would go. Her charm bracelet nearly fell off, but she wiggled it back toward her elbow to keep it from sliding off. She lined herself up next to Chris Abeley and shouted, “Heads up!” before snatching the NY Yankees hat right off his head. In what appeared to be one smooth motion she undid her helmet, strapped it to her saddle, and slapped the cap over her blowing hair.

  She’d learned this trick in her second year of riding camp, but he didn’t have to know that. Massie could tell by the gleam in his eyes that she’d passed that test. It was time to move on.

  “What about you? What do you like doing in your free time?”

  “I hang out with my friends, listen to music, and you know, I like entertaining when my parents are out of town.” he gave a mischievous grin.

  “What do you mean by entertaining?” Massie asked. She was afraid of the answer because it would mean she, as his future girlfriend, would be expected to do whatever it was that he did while he was entertaining, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that (or even knew what “that” was).

  “You know, party stuff,” he said.

  “Sure,” Massie said.

  They got deeper into the thickening woods and Tricky started grunting through her nose. She was shaking her head yes and no as if there was a pesky fly circling her, but there wasn’t. Tricky jerked forward, wanting to run, but Chris tightened the reins and held her back so they could keep trotting alongside Brownie and Massie. This was a good sign. Massie took it to mean he was having fun and wasn’t ready to leave. It was the perfect time to hit him up with the golden question.
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  “You said your last name was Abeley, right?” she asked. She squinted when she asked the question, hoping it made her look sincerely puzzled.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “Are you by chance related to Layne Abeley?” Massie asked.

  “She’s my little sister.”

  “That’s what I thought,” she said, slapping her thigh. “I love Layne. She was actually at my house this morning.”

  “That’s your house?” Chris Abeley said. “I was there too. My dad dropped her off and then gave me a ride here.” He paused for a second. “Wait, I thought her friend Claire lived there.”

  “That’s sooo funny.” Massie laughed. “N-n-n-no, she lives in my guest house. Let’s just say we’re helping her family get through some tough times.” She rubbed her thumb against her index and middle fingers, indicating it was a money thing.

  “Ohhh.” He sounded like he felt sorry for her. “Well, you’re lucky—she seems really cool and her brother is a wild man. He reminds me of myself when I was that age.”

  “Really?” Massie pulled an elastic out of her side pocket and after a few twists of the wrist her hair was tied in a loose bun that bobbed up and down on the back of her head.

  “I love when girls do that,” Chris said.

  “What?” Massie asked.

  “That crazy thing with their hair,” he said, wiggling his long fingers in the air. When his hand fell to his side, he just looked at her peacefully, allowing his smile to slowly fade. Massie could see that he was truly in awe.

  His puppy dog expression worried her just a little bit, like maybe he was falling too quickly. She didn’t have a list to tell her how to act during awkward moments, so she did the next-best thing and changed the subject.

  “Whatever happened to our race?” she asked. “On your mark, get set—”

  “GO!” Chris Abeley shouted before shooting ahead.

  “CHEATER!” Massie shouted after him.

  “LOSER!” Chris shouted back.

  Loser was one thing Massie would not allow herself to be called, even as a joke. She leaned forward to become aerodynamic and gave Brownie the command to run as fast as he possibly could. His thundering hooves pounded the trail, snapping twigs and kicking up dirt each time they beat the ground.

  “Looks like you’re a cheater and a loser,” Massie said. She was out of breath.

  “You’re pretty good for a filly,” he said, pretending to crack his knuckles. “My sister got on a horse once and started bawling her eyes out the second it started moving.”

  “Was she scared?” Massie asked, trying to sound concerned.

  “No, she just felt bad for the horse,” Chris Abeley said, rolling his eyes.

  Massie giggled but stopped as soon as she noticed him staring at her hand.

  “What?” she asked.

  Chris Abeley didn’t answer.

  He leaned over and reached for her tiny wrist with his big guy hand. A tingle shot through her entire body when he touched her and she imagined getting electrocuted felt the same. Everything around her became silent.

  “Charming.” He lifted each charm with the tip of his index finger.

  Massie could feel him looking straight at her even though her eyes were fixated on the silver microphone the Lyonses gave her. She pulled her arm away before he could notice it.

  “You should bring her out one time,” Massie said.

  She skillfully managed to look at Chris while her fingers raced to unhook the hideous charm. When she got it off, she casually released it, like a gum wrapper she was ashamed to throw on the ground.

  “Who?” Chris Abeley asked.

  He inched his body back into the middle of the saddle without taking his eyes off her. She felt paralyzed, like he was sucking her soul.

  “Layne,” Massie said. “Bring her out next weekend and I’ll give her a riding lesson.”

  “I gotta see that,” Chris said.

  “You’re on,” Massie said.

  “Good,” Chris said. “It’s a date.”

  Massie waved goodbye and rode off as fast as she possibly could. She wanted to get away before he noticed she still had his hat.

  TRANQUILITY NAIL SALON AFTER SCHOOL

  4:07 P.M. September 9th

  Layne plopped down in the cushy automatic massage chair.

  “Four speeds,” the pedicurist offered. She handed the remote control to Layne, but she couldn’t take it. Her hands were too full.

  “Layne, you have to pick one color.” Massie felt like she was speaking to a child.

  “I think it would be cool if every toe was different,” Layne said. “Don’t you?”

  “No,” Massie said.

  “Yeah, I guess it’s kind of stupid,” Layne said. She put the bottles back on the modern looking chrome shelf. “Which one do you like?” she asked Massie.

  “Baby’s Breath,” Massie said. “It’s a good color for beginners—pink but not too pink, sheer but not too sheer.”

  The girls soaked their feet in warm soapy water and flipped through magazines. All around them fashionably dressed women were getting their nails done by the best manicurists in all of Westchester.

  “This tickles,” Layne said. She yanked her feet away every time the pedicurist tried to exfoliate them with a pumice stone.

  Massie looked at the poor woman, who was trying desperately to scrub Layne’s foot, and rolled her eyes.

  Massie was glad she had the sense to call ahead and make sure no other OCD girls had four o’clock appointments. She wanted this tryst with Layne kept below the radar.

  “Thanks again for bringing me here. This place is beautiful, like a shiny forest!” Layne said, referring to sparkling chrome fixtures and the lush looking potted plants. “And thanks for pulling me aside after gym to let me know I have snaggle toes.”

  “No problem,” Massie said. “That’s what friends are for.” Massie could see Layne’s face light up as soon as she heard the word friends. This was really just too easy.

  “Your toes are looking so much better already.”

  “Iiiiiii knnnoooowwww,” Layne said. Her seat was now vibrating at high speed.

  “Oh, by the way,” Massie said without looking up from the pages of People. “Did your brother tell you we met last weekend?”

  “Nnnnnnnnnnnoooooooooo,” Layne said.

  Massie slapped the magazine closed and held it against her thigh. “We went riding together,” she said. “Are you sure he didn’t mention it?”

  “Yyyyeeeaaahhh,” Layne said.

  “You must not be very close.” Massie gave a sympathetic smile.

  Layne shut off the chair and stared directly into Massie’s eyes.

  “He’s my best friend,” Layne said. “We tell each other everything.”

  Massie knew she must have hit a nerve and decided not to push any further. It was important that she keep on Layne’s good side.

  “I know, he told me,” Massie said. “He even said he wished you liked riding so you could spend more time together.”

  “He did?” Layne said.

  “Oh yeah.” Massie nodded and made her voice sound very intense, like she had been moved by the depths of Chris Abeley’s love for his sister. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you let me teach you how to ride next weekend? Then we can all spend the day together.”

  “Come on.” Layne slapped her hand against her heart. “You would do all that for me?”

  “Of course.” Massie raised her hand to her head and smoothed down her already perfect hair. “Who else would I be doing it for?”

  THE GUESTHOUSE THE KITCHEN

  11:11 A.M. September 13th

  Claire stared at the microwave. The clock showed double numbers, which meant she had one minute to make as many wishes as she could before it became 11:12 A.M. She asked for friends at OCD, good grades, Massie’s approval, which would lead to Kristen, Alicia, and Dylan’s approval, which would lead to everyone else’s approval, the lead in the school play (whateve
r it was), new clothes, a different carpool, braworthy boobs by Christmas, neater handwriting, and faster-growing hair.

  “Shouldn’t Layne be here by now?” Judi asked. She stood by the stove dipping strawberries into a pot of bubbling chocolate one by one and then laying them out on a sheet of wax paper. It was her turn to make dessert for the book club she’d joined.

  “She’s not coming,” Claire said. She sat at the kitchen table mindlessly rolling and unrolling a cherry print place mat.

  “What was her excuse this time?” Judi asked sympathetically. “Is something wrong between you and Layne?”

  “No, she’s just busy with ‘her new’ best friend, Massie,” Claire said. She was so upset, she put air quotes around “her new” instead of “best friend.”

  Judi glanced at the place mat Claire was mangling, with a look of concern in her eye.

  “I don’t understand. Can’t you all hang out together?” Judi asked.

  “Gee, that’s a great idea,” Claire said. “Come to think of it, the president could really use your help with that crisis in the Middle East.”

  Claire heard a snicker come from under the table. She leaned over and found Todd curled up in a ball with his hand over his mouth.

  “All kidding aside, do you want me to talk to Massie’s mom about this?” Judi said. “I mean, I see no reason why they can’t include you. Maybe it’s an oversight.”

  Todd laughed through his nose.

  “I will give you everything I have in my savings account if you promise not to talk to anyone about this,” Claire said. “I’m fine. I swear.”

  Claire pushed her seat back from the table and stepped lightly on her brother’s hand as she stood up. She watched him squirm through the cracks on the wood table and choked back her laughter.

  “I think Todd is by the pool,” Judi offered. “Why don’t you join him for a swim?”

  “Maybe,” Claire said. “He pees in the pool, you know.”