COSMETICS
• Face soap
• Body soap
• Deodorant
• Moisturizer
• Powder
• Razor, shaving cream
• Perfume (one for day/one for night)
• Q-tips
• Makeup remover
• Electric toothbrush
• Dental floss
• Toothpaste
• Mouthwash
• Tweezers
• Eyelash curlers
• Mascara
• Zit cream
• Cover-up
• Visine
• Nail polish (top and base coat too)
• Nail polish remover
• Nail file
• Cuticle clipper
• Eyeliner
• Eye shadow
• Blush
• Lip gloss
• Lip balm
• Lipstick
• Shampoo
• Conditioner
• Deep conditioner
• Leave-in conditioner
• Brush
• Comb
• Hair dryer
• Diffuser
• Curling iron
• Flatiron
• Antifrizz serum
• Shine serum
• Bug spray
OTHER
• Scented candles
• Magazines
• Gum (sugar-free)
• Lavender-scented sheet spray
• Satin blindfolds for sleeping
• Slippers
• Bathrobe
• Shower cap
• Hair clips and elastics
Claire reviewed the list knowing full well the only approved item she would have was the underwear, because she'd just bought ten new pairs from Victoria's Secret.
“Remember”—Massie put her hands on her hips—”if this document is leaked, it could be very dangerous.”
Claire tried as hard as she could to think of how this type of information could be “dangerous.” She couldn't come up with a single thing and hoped someone else would ask, but they all seemed to understand completely.
“In case any of you aren't sure
why
this cannot fall into enemy hands, I'll explain.” Massie looked right at Claire. Thankfully the room was dark, so no one could see her blush. “I went online and did a search. There are no cute stores in the Adirondacks. So if everyone starts dressing like us, we can't run to the mall and get something new. We will only have what we packed.”
“Ahhh.” Claire nodded, pretending to get it.
“You can always call me,” Kristen offered. “I'll be shopping all week, so I can send something up in case there's an emergency.”
It was obvious that Kristen was trying to sound excited about her situation, because she spoke in a high-pitched everything's-okay-with-me-why-do-you-ask? tone that Claire had never heard before.
And it was obvious by the way the corners of Massie's lips curled up that she was about to bust Kristen on her fake enthusiasm. But the
pling!
sound on her computer alerted her to an IM she had just received from SHORTZ4LIFE. And that took priority.
“Ehmagawd,” Massie squealed. “It's from Derrington!”
“What'd he say?” Alicia raced over to the iMac. Massie leaned into the screen. Either she was blocking the IM from her friends or she had suddenly become farsighted. Whichever it was, she insisted that everyone stay seated. “I'll tell you everything,” she promised. “I just don't need everyone breathing down my neck.”
Alicia took a few steps back.
Massie read and typed.
SHORTZ4LIFE:
HI BLOCK
MASSIEKUR: HEY
SHORTZ4LIFE:
WHAT R U DOING?
MASSIEKUR:
HANGING OUT WITH TPC
“Ask him if Josh Hotz is definitely going to Lake Placid,” Alicia whispered, as if Derrington could hear her through the computer.
Claire felt her forehead break out in a cold sweat. Every time Alicia mentioned Josh, Claire tried not to look guilty. She widened her eyes and looked around the room like an innocent fawn.
MASSIEKUR:
IS JOSH GOING?
SHORTZ4LIFE:
ALL MY BOYZ WILL BE THERE.
JOSH, CAM, PLOVERT, & HURLEY
Claire felt her heartbeat quicken when Massie said Cam's name. More than anything, she wanted to ask Derrington if Cam had mentioned her poem, but she held back. She didn't want the Pretty Committee to know how desperate she was.
“Ehmagawd.” Dylan slapped her thighs. “Ask Derrington if Plovert is still on crutches.”
MASSIEKUR:
IS PLOVERT STILL A GIMP?
SHORTZ4LIFE:
LOL. YUP. CAST COMES OFF IN 2 WEEKS
“Love that!” Dylan said. “Now he can't run away from me.”
“Should I tell Derrington you like Plovert?” Massie's fingers hovered above her keypad.
“No!
I'm not making it official until tomorrow.” She paused. “Unless you think he's a bad crush. If you do, it's no big deal. I could always go for someone else. Like Josh.”
“Don't even think about it, Marvil.” Alicia threw a half-chewed marshmallow at Dylan's head. “Or I'll chop off all your hair while you're sleeping and make you eat it.”
Claire stuffed four squares of chocolate into her mouth at once.
“No, please don't.” Dylan grabbed her own waist. “I really don't want to gain all that weight back.”
“Just think,” Kristen said. “If you stayed here with me, we could work out every day.”
“No offense, but I'd rather eat my hair.” Dylan smiled.
SHORTZ4LIFE: IS CLAIRE GOING?
MASSIEKUR: GIVEN
Claire stood up and raced over to Massie's computer. She knew she'd been asked to stay seated, but Cam was obviously asking about her. And she didn't want to miss a single word of the exchange.
“Is Cam with him?” Claire asked. “Ask him if Cam got my po—my e-mail.”
Massie started typing but was interrupted by another
pling!
She started reading out loud again.
SHORTZ4LIFE:
DOES SHE LIKE JOSH? CUZ HE'S TOTALLY INTO HER
MASSIEKUR:
DOES
WHO
LIKE JOSH? WHO IS HE INTO?
Alicia jumped up and hurried over to the computer.
SHORTZ4LIFE: CLAIRE
Claire nudged Massie.
“Uh.” Massie leaned over her screen. “He won't say.”
“I need to know who it is.” Alicia pleaded. “Tell him we all went home and then ask him if it's me.”
“Sneaky,” Kristen mumbled, and rolled her eyes.
“Ugh, will you just let me pay for your trip?” Alicia snapped. “I can't handle your attitude anymore.”
“I don't want to go,” Kristen said. “Honestly, I am looking forward to getting ahead on my reading.”
“Fine.” Alicia tried to push past Claire so she could see what Massie was typing.
Claire carefully stuck her foot under Massie's desk and knocked the plug out of the wall. The computer screen went blank.
“What happened?” Massie pushed her chair back and lifted her keyboard. She pressed every button and shook it around.
Claire pressed her elbow into Massie's back, assuring her that everything was okay.
“Gawd, that keeps happening,” Massie fussed. “I have to get it fixed while I'm away.”
“Can't you just call Derrington and find out who Josh likes?” Alicia begged. “Please.”
“We don't talk on the phone,” Massie said.
“Wait, you make out but you don't talk on the phone?” Dylan said.
“Right,” Massie insisted.
A deep guttural gagging sound suddenly filled the room.
“Dylan,” Alicia said.
“It's not me.”
Claire looked at Massie's ceiling, silently thanking God for the distraction.
“What?” Dylan asked. “I told you, it's not me. Look.” She pointed at Bean. The dog was rolling around in her canoe, choking.
Massie jumped out of her chair and raced over to her puppy. “Bean, what's wrong? What is it? Is there something in your throat?”
The dog kept gasping for air. She sounded like a car that was having engine trouble.
“Bean, please say something.” Massie started tearing up. It was the first time Claire had ever seen her get emotional in front of her friends. She rubbed the pug's back in a soothing, circular motion. “Cough it up.”
While the dog was choking and Massie was rubbing, Claire thought about Cam. She imagined telling him about this traumatic moment over e-mail or on the phone. He would probably get all quiet because he loved animals. And that would make Claire love him even more.
Ugh! Why won't he just let me explain? Why did I have to kiss Josh? What's going to happen when Alicia finds out?
“Come on, sweet pea, you can do it,” Massie urged. “Cough it up.” Suddenly Aibo's black plastic tail shot out of Bean's mouth. “Good girl! You did it!” Massie hugged her puppy and rocked back and forth, her face buried between the dog's ears. “See, one little cough and everything's all better.”
Claire covered her mouth and forced herself to cough too. But Massie was wrong. Nothing had gotten better. Her life still sucked.
OCTAVIAN COUNTRY DAY SCHOOL PARKING LOT
Monday, February 23rd 8:11
A.M.
“Ehmagawd,” Dylan squealed as Isaac pulled into the OCD parking lot. “There's Chris Plovert.” She rolled down the window of the Blocks' Range Rover and stuck her head out. “I had no idea his father drove a silver Bentley.” She unzipped her cropped black bomber jacket and fluffed her red curls. “Mark the time and day,” she announced. “I am officially going for Chris Plovert.” She watched him struggle to get out of the backseat and giggled sympathetically. First came the tips of his silver crutches, then the cast-covered foot, and finally the rest of his Adidas-clad body.
“Close the window.” Alicia tried to block the sudden breeze with her hands. “My hair is getting stuck to my lip gloss.”
Dylan rolled the window down even more. “No way, it's like sixty-five degrees out. We're setting a record today. Didn't you watch
The Daily Grind
this morning?”
Alicia twisted her jet black hair into a low ponytail. “No, I was too busy tweezing to watch your mother's show.”
“Just roll it up, Dyl.” Massie fished through her pink Coach makeup bag. “I have to touch up my eyeliner and I don't want the boys to see.”
“Massie,” Isaac called over his shoulder, “please wait until I've parked. I don't need you poking your eyes out while your parents are driving in the car behind me.”
“If they weren't behind you, it would be okay?” Massie joked as she pressed the button that raised the glass partition between the front and back seats. She knew Isaac was just being his usual overprotective self, but she didn't have time to humor him. The Briarwood boys were a few feet away and her eyes were red and glassy. But what did she expect? She hadn't finished packing until midnight, and then she'd taken notes on William Cane's book
The Art of Kissing
so that her second MUCK session would go better than the first. If it weren't for sugar-free Red Bull, she never would have finished the whole thing. And she certainly never would have been awake at 5:30 a.m. when Jakkob had arrived to fix Claire's bangs. The early-morning house call had cost three hundred dollars but it was worth it. When he was done, Claire no longer looked like she had walked into an electrical fence. She had been transformed into one of those ah-dorably stylish French schoolgirls who have super-short bangs and cool notebooks.
Now it was Massie who needed the makeover. She looked like she had just spent a month in OCD's overchlorinated pool with her eyes open. She needed to apply Nars's Parrot Cay eyeliner to the inside of her lower lids to offset the redness ASAP.
“Do you think Cam will notice my new bangs?” Claire asked.
Massie snapped the lid over the eyeliner pencil and dropped it in her makeup bag.
“Kuh-laire.” Massie sighed. “He may have one blue eye and one green one, but that doesn't mean the guy is blind.”
“He's gonna fall in love with you all over again,” Alicia gushed. “You seriously look cute now.”
“It's true,” Dylan added. “Cute in a legitimate way, not just a
cute-for-you
way.”
“Thanks.” Claire beamed.
“BTW, you guys have to help me find the girl Josh likes,” Alicia whined.
“It's probably you.” Dylan slowly shook her head, like they had been through this a million times before. “Every guy likes you.”
“I know.” Alicia punched herself on the thigh. “That's why this is so ahn-noying. He never talks to me.”
“Maybe he's shy,” Claire suggested.
“Or maybe he likes someone else,” Alicia pouted.
Claire turned toward the window and bit her thumbnail.
Massie felt the familiar vibration of a text message. She flipped open her purple-crystal-covered phone and opened the car door.
She acted like she was looking at the screen, but she was really focused on the white furry moccasins she had pulled over her dark True Religion jeans. She refused to read the message until her feet were planted safely on the ground. She was still shaky from the Red Bulls, and the last thing she needed was to wipe out in front of the boys.
KRISTEN:
Hve fun _ I'll miss u.
MASSSIE:
Sure we can't pay?
KRISTEN:
Yup thx. Enjoy the weather, nature, animals, and hiking.
MASSIE:
And BOYS.
KRISTEN:
That 2. xoxo
MASSIE:
Enjoy the mall. xoxo
Massie dropped her phone into her metallic pink Coach tote. She knew the color violated the earth-tone-only mandate, but eventually everyone would have one and it was crucial that her public know who'd started the trend.
The Pretty Committee stood in a tight huddle on the curb while Isaac unloaded five cases of vitamin water from the hatch and Dylan's four Louis Vuitton suitcases.
Within seconds three cars caravanned into the spaces behind the Range Rover. The Blocks stepped out of a white Mercedes they had nicknamed Moby, the Riveras got out of a limo, and the Lyonses emerged from a caramel-colored Ford Taurus.
The parents unloaded their daughters' bags and suitcases from the trunks and backseats of their cars while the girls tried their hardest to look casual, like going away with boys was something they did all the time.
Members of the OCD security squad made their rounds in golf carts, picking up bags and delivering them to the luxury bus that was parked in the middle of the lot.