Best Friends for Never (19 page)

“'Kay, I'm being serious now.” Todd reached under the table and pulled out three lilacs for Massie. “They're purple, your favorite color.”

A round of gasps and “ahhh's” were heard from the parents.

“That's very sweet, Todd, but I will never, ever, ever, ever be your girlfriend,” Massie said as she sniffed the flowers.

“Never say never, ever, ever, ever,” Todd said with a suave wink. He puckered his lips.

Massie winced and wiped her mouth with her wrist.

“And Claire, my darling sister, I wrote you this note just to let you know how proud I am of you.”

Claire eyed the folded envelope in his clammy hand. She took it slowly and cautiously as if she were expecting it to explode in her face. She ran her pinky finger along the flap and tore it open, never once taking her suspicious eyes off her brother.

“Should I read it out loud?” Claire asked.

“It's a little emotional. Maybe you should take it to the bathroom,” Todd suggested.

Claire knew something was up. She had only seen her brother get emotional once, when Nathan beat him at his brand new Formula 1 video game.

“Okay,” Claire said as she pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. “Mom, will you order me a fudge sundae?”

Once Claire was in the bathroom, she took the letter out of the envelope and started reading. After the first sentence she lifted her head and looked around for hidden cameras.

“This has to be a joke,” she said to the bathroom attendant.

“'Scuse me, honey?”

“Nothing,” Claire said. She locked herself in a stall so she could have a little privacy.

DEAR CLAIRE,

YOU MUST HAVE REALLY HATED THE CD I MADE YOU CUZ YOU NEVER GOT BACK TO ME ABOUT THE MOVIE. ANYWAY, I THOUGHT YOUR UNIFORM WAS AWESOME AND I THINK YOU SHOULD HAVE WON.

-CAM

P. S. THE KEDS WERE A COOL TOUCH.

Claire read the note four more times before she left the stall. She had so many questions, but the first one was for Todd.

She hugged her brother to thank him for his “sweet note,” and when she was close to his ear, she whispered, “How did you get this?”

“He gave it to me to give to you,” Todd said quietly.

“Why did you say you wrote it?” Claire asked, still holding him close.

“Cuz I got Massie flowers and I didn't have anything for you. I felt guilty.”

Claire hugged her brother again.

“Do you know anything about a CD?” Claire asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Todd said. “I've been meaning to give it to you. It's killer.”

Claire would have punched him, but she was much too happy.

The waiter came with a cart filled with desserts: pies, cakes, cookies, flans, and tarts. Mr. Block asked for one of everything because they were celebrating.

“What could we possibly be celebrating, Dad?” Massie asked. She stuffed a spoonful of butterscotch ice cream in her mouth.

“That you don't have to wear that horrible sweater set Ann Marie Blanc came up with,” he said.

Everyone laughed and praised the fashion gods for small miracles.

“Yeah, but now we have to wear strappy sandals,” Claire said.

“Not if my smart, brilliant, powerful, handsome father donates a building or something to the fashion department so we can wear what we want again.” Massie batted her eyelashes and tossed in a few “pretty please's” for effect.

Claire saw Mr. Block's face soften and decided to join in.

“Oh, please, William. Pleeease.”

“Look who has suddenly taken an interest in fashion,” Judi Lyons said to her daughter.

“Would you be begging William to fix things if you girls won tonight?” Claire's father asked.

“We did win and I'm still—”

Claire felt the pointy toe of Massie's boot jab her shin.

“Ouch,” Claire said.

“Weeds,” Massie mouthed.

Claire looked at her with a sincere apology in her eyes and Massie smiled.

“What do you mean, you won?” Jay asked.

“Well, not literally, Dad,” Claire said. “I mean I won because I had a good time.”

Claire got another kick under the table, but this one was softer. Massie made a face like she was trying to suppress her giggles. Claire knew she had done well.

“When did you change out of your Keds?” Claire whispered. She was rubbing her leg under the table.

“Immediately after the show,” Massie said.

They laughed.

For that one moment Claire stopped being afraid of Massie. The girl with the amber eyes was no longer a mysterious she-devil. She stressed over outfits, got stabbed in the back by her friends, liked sugary desserts, and didn't always win, even when she deserved to. Massie was a regular person. She just knew how to hide it.

Claire watched Massie wipe the sides of her mouth with a cloth napkin and reapply a fresh coat of lip gloss. And she began to understand why Massie waited so long to accept her.

Like the right to wear a Dirty Devil costume, Massie's friendship wasn't something Claire was entitled to: it was something she had earn. And she had finally done it.

Claire slid her hand into the back pocket of her Gap jeans and touched the folded note from Cam to make sure it was still there.

I'll show it to Massie after dinner,
she thought. Claire couldn't wait to see her reaction. She imagined they would hug, jump up and down, and read it over and over again until they knew every word by heart. Claire had a feeling life with Massie was about to get really exciting.

Q&A

LISI HARRISON Answers Questions from her Readers

When will
THE CLIQUE
be a movie? Can I please play Massie?

Everyone asks this question. EVERYONE! And I wish I had better news for you. I really do. All I know is that there are powerful, suit-wearing people in Hollywood trying to make this happen. But until they do, you'll have to keep reading the books and imagine yourself saying the lines. As soon as I get an update I will post it on LisiHarrison. net. Pinky-swear.

And for all you wannabe Massies out there: Practice your comebacks and keep honing your inner queen bee. That way you'll be ready if opportunity knocks!

Who are the girls on the cover supposed to be?

Is the one in the middle Massie or Alicia? Where is Claire? And why are there only three of them and not four?
The girls on the covers are models, meant to represent a clique, not
the
Clique. It's up to you to decide based on my description and your imagination what Massie, Claire, Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan look like. So if the girl in the middle looks like Alicia to you, then fine, she's Alicia. And if she doesn't then that's fine too. Whatevs.

Which character is most like you?

I kind of have all the characters in me to some extent. I'm like Massie because I love fashion, clever comebacks, and my puppy Bee Bee. But I am not a bully and would never want to make anyone cry, especially my friends.

I'm like Claire because I try to accept myself for who I am.

I'm like Dylan because I think burps are funny and I love to eat.

I'm like Layne because I think unique is chic. And I go through food obsession phases. This week I can't get enough of those little egg rolls filled with pizza.

The characters I am not like at all are Kristen because I stink at sports and Alicia because I have small boobs and I would never follow anyone.

How are you able to write for seventh graders when you are clearly no longer in the seventh grade?

Simple. I
WAS
in the seventh grade at one point in my life and I remember what it feels like to wake up in the morning and wonder if my friends will still like me, even though I did nothing wrong. I also remember what it feels like to gang up on someone else because, well, better them than me, right? We've all been Massies and we've all been Claires at one point or another, and those feelings of abusing and being abused never go away.

How did you come up with the idea to write about cliques?

I worked at MTV for ten years, and it reminded me a lot of middle school. People were always trying to fit in with the “cool” crowd, and it brought back a lot of memories. I'd hear things like,
Who are you hanging out with this weekend? Did you get invited to any cool parties? Where did you buy that outfit? Who did you eat lunch with today?

Sound familiar? It wasn't long before I realized that cliques and the desire to be accepted don't go away when you get older. They just get easier to laugh at. And that's why I wrote
THE CLIQUE
as a comedy and not a heart-wrenching drama. Sometimes the way we act is so pathetic it's funny.

Any advice for wannabe writers?

1. Write every day. It doesn't have to be good or interesting or grammatically correct. Just write anyway. It will keep your juices flowing, and I guarantee that by the end of each session you will have at least one good sentence that you can use in the future.

2. Read a lot. And read the stuff you like, not the stuff you
think
you should like. Because chances are you will write in the genre you like to read. So it's important to know how other people are doing it.

3. Carry a little notebook everywhere you go. If you see something funny, write it down. If you meet someone with a cool name, write it down. If you think of an interesting story idea while you're on the bus, write it down. Get it? So the next time you're racking your brain for details or ideas they will be right there in your ah-dorable little notebook.

4. If someone tells you you'll never be a writer, put on your pointiest boots, take a deep breath, and kick them in the shin.

Write about
that
!

How many
CLIQUE
books will there be?

Right now there will be eight. But if you want more, I'll write more.

Are you going to write other stuff?

Totally! I am always thinking of new and different ideas. My next novel is about fifteen-year-olds at summer camp.

Any advice for people that go to clique-y schools?

For starters, you have to understand why mean girls are mean.

They are insecure.

I know that's hard to believe because they're probably pretty, popular, stylish, and outgoing. But trust me, it's true. Girls who put other girls down do it to feel better about themselves. So keep that in mind next time a pack of wild meanie weenies treats you like a loser. Know that they are the pathetic ones and simply walk away. And stop, stop, stop trying to be accepted by them. Do you seriously think you'd be happier if you were friends with them? Puh-lease!

Go find someone who shares your real interests and hang with her or him. It's better to have one real friend than a hundred fake ones. Given!

Where can I get the Glossip Girl lip gloss you write about in Invasion of the Boy Snatchers?

Sorry, sisters. I made the whole thing up. I only wish there were a Lip-Gloss-of-the-Day Club that delivered a new flavor of gloss to my front door every morning. But until then, just imagine you're getting it. And while you're at it, can you think of some cool new flavors? I'm running out of ideas.

Done. Done. And Done.

Essay My Life Story

By Lisi Harrison

Any time someone starts a story with, “I was born in…,” my eyes glaze over and I try not to yawn in their face. So I'll do my best to find a more interesting way of letting you know I was born and raised in Toronto, Canada.

There, how was that? :)

I did not go to a private school like OCD and I was not in a rich evil clique of “Massies.” I went to Hebrew school until ninth grade and then switched to Forest Hill Collegiate, a public high school. A lot of the kids in my grade came from families with tons of money and wore Polo everything (it was really IN back then, okay?). I, on the other hand, was forbidden to wear anything made by anyone other than Kmart or Hanes. I probably would have been allowed to wear The GAP but it wasn't on every block in Canada yet. My parents were on a mission to keep me as grounded and un-spoiled as they possibly could. And now, as much as I ah-dore fashion, I never buy designer clothes or bags. I tend to go for the more original styles. Granted, sometimes I look like a total goof bag but at least I'm the only goof bag at the party.

When I was eighteen I moved to Montreal to become a film major at McGill University. Canadians like to think of it as the Harvard of Canada, but Americans always laugh and call me an “intellectual wannabe” when I say that. Nice, eh?

Anyway, I left McGill after two years because I knew deep down inside I wanted to be a writer, not a filmmaker, and McGill had a lame creative writing program. So I transferred to Emerson College in Boston, where I graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in creative writing. YAY!

So there I was with a BFA, ten dollars in my LeSportsac, and no plan. Luckily, my friend Lawrence (I call him Larry even though he hates it) was working at MTV in New York and felt sorry for me. He offered me a casting job on a game show called Lip Service. All I had to do was move to Manhattan—the next day.

Um, okay.

I ended up staying at MTV for twelve great years. I had every brutal job there was and eventually worked my way up to head writer and then senior director of development. That's when things got really cool. It was my job to create and develop new shows for the network, including
One Bad Trip
and
Room Raiders.
And believe it or not, it was MTV, not middle school that inspired me to write THE CLIQUE. There were so many employees at MTV who would do and wear anything just to be accepted by the so-called “cool people.” It reminded me so much of life in the seventh grade I had to write about it. And the rest is history.

I wrote
The Clique
and
Best Friends for Never
while I was still at MTV, just in case my life as an author didn't work out. And in June 2004 I decided to take the plunge, quit my job, and write full-time.