The Pretty Committee Strikes Back

by Lisi Harrison

  “Ew,” she whisper-yelled. Doose went crashing down onto the floor. Luckily, his fall was silenced by a cushy suede beanbag. Massie lifted him up by one antler, pinched the underwear between her thumb and index finger, and tiptoed back to the bunks.

  Massie stood over Claire for a second, watching her chest rise and fall while she slept. Things must have gone well with Cam or Claire would not have looked so peaceful. Claire's love life couldn't be better than hers. She had to fix things with Derrington ASAP.

  She hooked the underwear over one of Doose's antlers and lowered his face until he was nose to nose with Claire. When Claire didn't move, Massie gently poked her with Doose's hairy lips.

  Her blue eyes shot open. “Ahhhhhhh!” she screamed. Massie dropped Doose on the bed and covered Claire's mouth with her hand. Everyone woke up and looked around the cabin. Massie crouched down until the girls settled back to sleep.

  By then Claire's nerves had settled and the two girls buried their faces in blankets and pillows and laughed hysterically.

  “What are you doing?” Claire mouthed once she caught her breath.

  “Come outside, we have to talk.”

  “Now?” Claire hesitated.

  “Yeah.”

  “It's raining.”

  “It stopped,” Massie lied. “Come on, unless you want this underwear in your face.” She pinched the satin panties and dangled them above Claire's nose.

  “Gross.” Claire slapped Massie's hand. “I'm going to kill Layne.” She grabbed the underwear and dropped it on Layne's head on her way out the door.

  It was raining sideways when the girls stepped out onto the porch. But the hunter green canvas awning kept them dry.

  “So how did it go last night?” Massie asked, even though she already knew the answer.

  “Ah-mazing,” Claire said. “Your plan was perfect.”

  Massie smiled. That was all she wanted to hear. As far as she was concerned, they could move on to her now.

  “I'm back in,” Claire continued. “Cam is finally over the whole Josh thing. We're even going to have a make-up first kiss tonight at seven p.m.”

  “Perfect,” Massie said. “Now, moving on to Derr—”

  “Do you know if Alicia left the cabin last night?”

  Massie shrugged. She was annoyed that Claire was still making this about her. It was Massie's turn to get the attention.

  “Because I have a feeling she was in there when I was talking to Cam, which means she heard everything I said about Josh.”

  Massie shrugged again and looked out into the distance. The sun was just starting to carve out a place for itself in the overcast sky. With every passing second, Whiteface Mountain became more visible, its edges sharper, like a developing Polaroid picture. But there weren't any brilliant golds or oranges to admire. No ribbons of pink casting a warm dawn-of-the-new-day glow on Lake Placid. It was a gray, milky morning, which suited Massie just fine. She was too distraught for beauty. It would have made her feel even worse than she already did.

  “Are you sure you don't know anything about Alicia?” Claire pressed.

  “The only think I know is that I need your help,” Massie hissed. “It's my turn, Kuh-laire. You promised.”

  “Uh, okay.” Claire seemed surprised by the urgency in Massie's voice. “No problem. I just need to think for a minute.”

  “No need for that.” Massie held up her palm. “I already have the plan all figured out.”

  “Oh.” Claire folded her arms across her chest.

  “All I need you to do is bring the MUCK girls to the tree behind the cabin tonight right after dinner.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that's where I'll be kissing Derrington.” Massie felt a pull in her stomach when she said the words. Even though she was committed to losing her lip virginity, the idea still made her nervous. “You'll come up just as we're kissing, then I'll get mad at you for invading our privacy. Meanwhile, the girls will see us doing it and they'll apologize for calling me a liar, and Derrington and I will have done the deed and everything will go back to normal. It's perfect.”

  “Yeah, except for the part about you getting mad at me,” Claire joked.

  “Pleeeeease.” Massie held her palms together in prayer.

  “No problem,” Claire said. “But can we do it at a different time?”

  “Why?”

  “Because seven p.m. is when I'm supposed to meet Cam for our kiss.”

  “So meet him at eight p.m.,” Massie snapped. “I really need the 7 p.m. slot, because everyone will be finished with dinner and roaming around. So it will seem natural.”

  “But I can't change it with Cam,” Claire insisted.

  “Why nawt?” Massie stomped her angora-clad foot.

  “Because Cam and I aren't speaking today,” Claire said. “We're waiting until 7 p.m. It's more romantic that way.”

  “Kuh-laire.” Massie's voice cracked. “My reputation depends on this.”

  Claire looked at her red socks and wiggled her toes.

  “Kuh-laire?” Massie lifted Claire's head, forcing her to make eye contact. “It can't wait.”

  “Okay, well, hopefully Cam can,” she said under her breath.

  “What?” Massie asked, even though she'd heard Claire loud and clear.

  “Nothing,” Claire said.

  “Good, then it's a plan?”

  Claire opened her mouth to answer, but Massie turned on her heel and walked back into the cabin before Claire had the chance to say another word.

  LAKE PLACID, NEW YORK FOREVER WILD CAMPSITE THE DINING PAVILION

  Tuesday, February 24th 1:40 P.M.

  The usual lively lunchtime chatter was slightly muted, partly because the rain drowned out the noise but mostly because everyone was too wet to talk about anything other than how wet they were.

  Claire picked the crispy bacon out of her BLT and nibbled at the crusts of the toasted sourdough bread. After a soggy morning of building shelters out of branches and bright orange tarps, she should have devoured the double-decker sandwich and the spicy fries, but her appetite was gone. How could she possibly eat when there was a chance Alicia had overheard her Josh confession? Besides, she still had to break the news to Cam that their tryst would have to wait until Massie got her social life back. And telling him would mean breaking their romantic vow of silence. It was all too depressing, even for a plate of hot fries.

  Massie tilted her head sideways. “So what's up with Alicia and Olivia sitting over there at the boys' table?”

  “I dunno.” Claire was so happy to have Alicia out of the way for a while, she didn't bother questioning it.

  Dylan leaned across the table and whispered to Massie. “Hey, did Kristen really spend the night under your bed?”

  Massie looked around to make sure no one was listening, then nodded.

  “That's worse than being buried alive.” Dylan pulled a flimsy piece of mayo-covered lettuce out of her sandwich and rolled a french fry in it.

  “You think?” Claire asked. “How is lying under a bed worse than being buried alive?” She knew she was overreacting to Dylan's comment but lately, between Alicia, Massie, Cam, and Josh, Claire felt like she had been buried alive, and it felt good to lash out at someone.

  “Well, for starters …” Dylan stuffed the lettuce-fry in her mouth. “She had to spend the night lying under Massie's butt.” She cracked herself up and a piece of fry shot out of her mouth and landed on her forearm.

  Massie laughed too, then became serious. “We need to bring her some food. I already swiped one of Layne's Go-Gurts but she said it made her barf-burp twice. She's probably starving by now.”

  “And bored,” Claire added. “What does she do under there all day?”

  “Reads trail maps,” Massie answered.

  “So, what are the girly-girls talking about?” Merri-Lee sat down in the seat beside her daughter. The camera, along with its blinding light, followed.

  “Mom,” Dylan whined. “Do you h
ave to get us eating?”

  “What's wrong with eating?” Merri-Lee tightened the green chiffon sash around her Ralph Lauren safari jacket. Her waist was so tiny, she looked like the number 8.

  “Everything.” Dylan pushed her plate away and folded her arms across her chest.

  The MUCK girls walked behind Dylan, looked straight into the lens, and waved. One of the nameless non-soccer team boys pushed another nameless non-soccer team boy in front of the camera, then ran away in hysterics.

  “Oh, don't stop gossiping just because I showed up.” Merri-Lee rolled a fresh coat of red Chanel lipstick across her puckered mouth. She snapped the cap back on and turned to her daughter. “So, what were you talking about?”

  “You really want to know?” Dylan had a devilish glint in her eyes. She looked straight into the camera and smiled slowly. “We were talking about how creepy it is to watch you flirt with Mr. Myner, my geography teacher.”

  Claire felt her blue eyes widen. Had Dylan really just said that?

  Merri-Lee smiled sweetly and put her perfectly manicured hand on her heart. “Thank you, darling.” She turned to face her crew. “Okay, cut. Let's get some beauty shots of the rain on Lake Placid.”

  The cameraman flicked off the light and headed for the door, dragging the audio guy—who was attached to the camera by a wire—with him.

  “Honestly.” Merri-Lee stood up and left.

  Dylan, Massie, and Claire giggled into their palms.

  Then Dylan turned on the rubber heel of her pink moccasins. “I'm going to visit that little squirrel in our cabin,” she said to no one in particular.

  “Uh, I'll go with you.” Massie stuffed a BLT in the pocket of her army green cropped bomber jacket and followed Dylan to the exit.

  “Uh, I'll be there in a minute,” Claire called after them, even though they didn't seem the slightest bit concerned. She sat back down at the table, desperate for a minute to herself so she could think of a way to keep things from falling apart with Cam. But it was hard with Carrie staring at her. And even harder once Alexandra, Layne, and Livvy sat down.

  “What's wrong with your table?” Claire asked Layne.

  “I knew it.” Layne pulled her leopard-print earmuffs off her head and let them hang around her neck. “You're still mad about the underwear, aren't you?”

  “No,” Claire insisted. “I just want you to throw it out in a normal trash can.”

  “We moved tables because Livvy spilled her grape lemonade all over the place, and the last thing we need is more wet.” Alexandra leaned back on the bench and wrung out her long, straight brown hair. Droplets of rainwater dripped onto the wood floor.

  “It was an accident.” Livvy scraped her top teeth across her bottom lip, obviously craving the taste of lip gloss.

  Claire looked over at the boys' table. For the time being, she was more interested in spying on Alicia than Cam.

  Alicia said something to Olivia and they both looked at Claire. The instant Alicia's brown eyes met hers, Claire felt her entire body stiffen. She forced herself to smile at Alicia and was relieved when Alicia waved back. And she was smiling, which could mean only one thing: she hadn't been there last night. She didn't know about Claire and Josh. Suddenly, Claire knew how to alert Cam to the change of plans while maintaining their vow of silence. She glared at Alicia until she looked over again and then motioned for her to come over.

  Alicia stood up from the boys' table and glided across the room. She swayed her hips back and forth with every slow step she took. Her tight navy blue stretch corduroy Sevens hugged her perky butt and accentuated her sexy saunter. If Alicia knew the boys were staring at her, she did a good job of hiding it.

  “Hey, what's up?” She stopped and stood over Claire, nothing but sweetness in her voice.

  Claire searched for signs of insincerity before continuing. But Alicia's brown eyes twinkled with warmth and kindness. The only thing Claire found suspect was how well Alicia's good looks held up in the rain.

  “Is this about Dylan?” Alicia seemed genuinely concerned. “Is she upset because Olivia and Plovert are hanging out? I mean, I know they went to the Love Struck dance together, but Dylan swore she wasn't into him because he smelled like fake tan.” She was speaking faster than usual, and it made Claire a little nervous. “Tell me the truth, is that why she left?”

  Claire stood up and faced Alicia. She didn't want the MUCK girls eavesdropping on their conversation. “No, she hasn't thought about Plovert since her mother got here. She left to bring food to Kristen.”

  “Oh, cool.” Alicia turned back to Olivia and gave her the thumbs-up. “So what's up?”

  “I was wondering if you could deliver a note to Cam for me.” Claire shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

  “Given.” Alicia pulled out a tube of peach-colored Nars lip gloss and rubbed the wand across her lips while Claire wrote on a napkin.

  C

  Something came up. Can we meet at powwow Log at 7:30 p.m. instead of 7 p.m.? If it's cod, ignore me. If it isn't, send a note. Can't wait.

  C

  Claire folded the napkin into a small, tight square and pressed it into Alicia's palm. She watched Alicia stroll back to the boys' table and waited for her to signal that Cam had gotten the note. Once she got the confirmation nod, Claire sat down and dug into her BLT. All of a sudden she was ravenous.

  LAKE PLACID, NEW YORK FOREVER WILD CAMPSITE THE SHOWER HOUSE

  Tuesday, February 24th 6:39 P.M.

  “Rate me out of ten,” Massie commanded Claire as they hurried up the steps of the shower house. The rain had finally stopped but the ground was still moist. The air smelled like a mix of fresh-cut grass and wet poodles.

  “Ten.”

  “You're just saying that.” Massie pulled up the straps of her emerald green satin cami and tightened the knot on her short, cream-colored cashmere tie-front cardigan.

  “I am not. You look ah-mazing.” Claire looked over her shoulder, probably checking for Mr. Myner. “Those new True Religion jeans look great on you.”

  “They're Alicia's.” Massie rolled her eyes.

  She clearly missed her conditioner-soaked wardrobe, which had arrived safely at Westchester's Delicate Dry Cleaners yesterday morning, thanks to FedEx.

  “Well, you should ask her if you can keep them,” Claire suggested. “They look great on you.”

  “Thanks.” Massie pulled open the door to the shower house and looked over her shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed.

  If Mr. Myner caught them sneaking out of dinner early, the Lumber-Jerk, as Massie had dubbed him, would find some psychotic way to punish them. Maybe this time he'd wake them up at 3 a.m. to dust the leaves on the spruce trees.

  “Kuh-laire, tens are reserved for special occasions only.” Massie held the door open for Claire. “If you start giving out tens on normal days, what are you going to give for parties or proms? Where do you go from there?”

  “Fine, you're a nine.” Claire sighed.

  “Really?” Massie raced over to the wide mirrors that covered the walls by the marble-topped dressing stations. “What could I do to be a ten?” she asked her reflection.

  “You could relax.” Claire batted her short- French-girl bangs from one side to the other. “Ugh, I can't believe it's the eve of my first kiss with Cam and I look like this.“

  Massie felt an anger surge zip through her body. “Claire, were your parents lobsters?”

  “Uh, no.” Claire pinched her cheeks until they were rosy.

  “Then why are you acting so shellfish?” Massie said.

  “What?”

  “Kuh-laire, in exactly …” Massie checked her wrist, then slammed it against her thigh when she realized the Lumber-Jerk had confiscated her Coach watch. “In about ten minutes I will lose my lip virginity. You, on the other hand, have already lost yours, no matter how much you and Cam want to pretend you didn't. So can we please stay focused on me right now?”

  “Sorry.” Claire stuff
ed her Cover Girl lip gloss in the back pocket of her Gap classic-cut jeans.

  “I can't believe you never kissed Derrington,” said an echoey voice from one of the shower stalls.

  Massie's body froze. She was so nervous about her kiss, she'd forgotten to check to see if anyone was there. How could she have been so careless?

  “It's just me.” The voice was followed by a familiar phlegmy laugh.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  Kristen padded barefoot into the changing area. Her body was wrapped in a thick green Turkish cotton bath towel and her short wet hair was spiky and wild. “BTW, how much do you love these heated tile floors? I don't even need slippers.”

  “Kristen.” Massie stomped her foot. “What are you doing in here?”

  “I should ask you the same question.” Kristen pulled a Q-tip out of the glass jar by the mirror. Her mouth hung open and her eyes glazed over while she twirled it around the inside of her ear. “Dinner isn't over until seven.” She smiled proudly. “I memorized your schedule. I also studied all of the trail maps and have managed to commit most of the bird and animal species to memory.”

  Massie rolled her eyes. She was so over listening to everyone else's problems. She had major issues and no one seemed to care.

  “I'm so bored.” Kristen opened a jar filled with blue water. She stuck her hand inside and pulled out a black comb, tapped it on the side of the glass, and combed back her short hair. “This place has everything. I would never want to leave if I didn't have to spend all of my time hiding under a bed eating Go-Gurt and leftovers.”

  “Yeah, that sucks.” Massie tried to sound sympathetic, but all she could think about was Derrington and how far over to the right she should tilt her head before the kiss.

  “The worst part is, there isn't a bus out of here until tomorrow night.” Kristen sighed at her reflection.

  “So?” Massie felt her jaw tighten. She desperately wanted to tell Kristen to shut up so she could think clearly but fought the urge with every bit of strength she had. After all, the girl had spent the last two days lying on a wood floor and probably needed a minute to vent.