Sealed with a Diss (10 page)

“Thank gawd!” Massie muttered under her breath. “What happened?” Kristen stepped out of the Jacuzzi and padded over to the sleek stereo. She pushed the CD tray back in and hurried back into the warm hot tub.

Projectile-vomit sounds barfed from the speakers once again, and the girls giggle-moaned.

Then, seconds later, the CD self-ejected.

Claire side-glanced at Layne and half-smiled.

“Why does this keep happening?” Kristen pressed her hands against the wet tiles, pushed herself out of the tub, and tiptoe-jogged over to the stereo again.

“My Bose has good taste,” Massie replied.

Claire laughed much louder and harder than the other girls, and Massie shot her a curious glare.

“Sorry,” Claire said, but it came out sounding more like “reeeee.”

Massie kept staring. And Claire kept laughing. Then Layne joined in, which cracked her up even more. Desperate to stop, Claire slid underwater, but the muffled roar of the jets scared her into resurfacing before she was completely cured.

“What is going awn?” Massie smacked the bubbling surface of the water.

“Yeah.” Kristen slid back into the hot tub.

The CD started up once again.

And then it ejected.

“Show them,” Claire urged her friend as she fought the twitching corners of her mouth.

“Show them what?” Layne snickered.

“Yeah, show us
what
?” Massie narrowed her amber eyes, silently threatening social homicide if Layne didn’t comply.

“This.” Layne reached behind the chaise and grabbed a tiny clump of copper wires. She held them out in front of her with pride.

“I just pulled something that looked like that out of my hairbrush this morning,” Dylan joked.

Everyone giggled, except Massie, who refused to spend one more second on the outside of an inside joke. “What
are
those?”

Layne sat up and cleared her throat. “It’s a cluster of thirty-eight conductors that I knotted, then threaded through a metal bobby pin. But the real magic happens once you attach the—”

“Yawwwwwn.” Alicia stretched her wet arms and patted her mouth.

“Tell them what it
does
,” Claire urged.

“It’s a signal interceptor,” gushed Layne. “I threw it together with a little help from the World Wide Web. It’s like a remote control.”

“So
you
ejected my CD?” Kristen asked.

Layne nodded with glee.

“Can you intercept this?” A burst of bubbles surfaced around Dylan’s butt. “S’cuse me.” She giggled.

“Nicely done.” Massie nodded.

“Thanks.” Dylan beamed.

“Nawt you.” Massie giggled.

Everyone cracked up.

“I am very impressed with
Layne
.” Massie applauded. The Pretty Committee, confused at first by her open display of LBR appreciation, eventually joined in.

Layne stood and bowed.

Claire’s heart swelled with genuine happiness. Finally, her friends were accepting Layne. Her two groups were coming together. No more separate plans or hurt feelings or—

“Um, Layne…” Massie’s voice rose above the applause.

Claire’s heart instantly deflated.

Layne continued to bow and spin and curtsy for her fans.

“Layne!” Massie shouted.

Everyone stopped.

“Yeah,” she smile-panted.

“You may want to use the bathroom.”

“Huh?”

Massie cupped a hand over her mouth like she was about to whisper, yet spoke at full volume. “That thing you have that keeps you from going in hot tubs is making me see
red,
if you know what I mean.”

“Nooooo!” Trying to catch a glimpse of her backside, Layne spun like a dog trying to chase its tail.

“Ew!” The girls gasped and covered their eyes, but for some reason, Claire couldn’t keep from looking.

“I don’t see any—”

Claire sympathy-blushed for Layne. Unable to face her, she lowered her eyes and focused on her puffy white waterlogged cuticles. It didn’t matter whether Massie was telling the truth or not. Either way, Layne was doomed to days of embarrassing period jokes at her expense. Claire had fallen victim to that when she first moved to Westchester and accidentally sat in red paint.

“Trust me, it’s there,” Massie insisted. “Layne, there’s a bathroom in the back past the showers. Take all the time you need.”

“Thanks.” Layne reached for her clear backpack and bolted toward the double glass doors. She was in such a hurry, she left her phone behind. Claire considered chasing after her, but something told her that if she left, she’d miss out on something big. So she opted to soak for a few more minutes. It wasn’t like Layne needed her phone in there anyway.

“Thank gawd.” Massie bolted out of the hot tub the moment Layne was gone. She wrapped herself in a plush white robe and flopped down on a chaise.

“Well, I’m done.” Alicia squeezed the chlorinated water out of her hair and hurried for the open seat beside Massie.

“Me too,” Dylan echoed.

“Same.” Kristen lifted herself out of the hot tub.

Claire knew she was expected to follow.

Everyone wrapped themselves in robes and curled up on the chaise beside Massie, like a tangle of newborn gerbils.

“Finally, some alone time.” Massie squirted a dollop of Nexxus VitaTress hair-food supplement onto her palm, finger-distributed it evenly, and then passed the tube around.

“Why is she even here?” Alicia snarled.

“Seriously.” Dylan rolled her bloodshot eyes.

Massie sighed, then rested her head against the back of the chair and gazed up at the ceiling like she was considering something that had been weighing heavily on her mind.

“Tell us.” Kristen gently rested her hand on Massie’s terry-cloaked shoulder. “What is it?” Massie’s amber eyes seemed to fill with sadness and something else Claire couldn’t quite identify.

“I have some major gossip to tell you,” Massie told them confidentially.

“How many points?” asked Alicia.

“One thousand.” They leaned forward in anticipation.

“I need to make it quick, because it won’t take long for Layne to figure out I was lying about the whole per—”

“Ew!” Alicia covered her ears. “Don’t say it.”

“I
knew
you were making that up!” Dylan high-fived her. “Genius!”

Claire hated herself for thinking for a second that the PC would ever respect Layne. She hated herself more for not running into the bathroom to warn her, now that she knew the truth. But one thousand gossip points was major.

Massie glanced at the double doors to make sure Layne was still out of earshot. Then she leaned forward. “IletLaynecometothespabecauseIneedherhelpwithsomething.”

“So it’s a
use
? Phew.” Alicia wiped her brow. “I thought you were getting soft.”

“What about the
gossip
?” Dylan pulled a handful of red hair out of her comb and stuffed it into the pocket of her robe.

“YouknowthatbigsecretmeetingIhadwithSkyelastweek?”

They nodded again.

“Well,sheaskedmetomakeChrisAbeleylikeher. Shewantshimtobeherdatefortheparty. That’showIgotusintotheroomearly. ItoldherIwouldhelpherifshegavemethekey.”

“And she said
yes
?” Kristen’s narrow blue eyes were wide with disbelief. “Just like
that
?”

“Kinda.” Massie crinkled her nose with dread.

“Whaddaya mean?” Alicia asked.

“ShesaidifIfailedhershewouldtakethekeyawayforgood.”

Everyone gasped.

“But we get it back for eighth grade, right?” Alicia asked.

Massie shook her head slowly.

They gasped again, then exhaled sharply, accidentally blowing out the vanilla-lavender pillar candle beside them. A thin ribbon of black smoke curled toward the high wood rafters.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” This time Dylan dropped a clump of hair on the floor.

“Some things are alpha-to-alpha.”

“But this affects all of us,” Kristen insisted.

“I wanted you to focus on getting dates,” Massie confessed. “That’s your priority. Let me deal with this.”

At that moment, Claire felt sorry for Massie. She was obviously stressing over the deal she’d struck with Skye and had been too full of pride to ask her BFFs for help. It made Claire wonder what other things alphas kept inside. And how alone those secrets must make them feel.

“That’s why I’m telling you. And that’s why Layne is here,” Massie assured them. “I need her to help me get access to her brother and—”

Right then, Layne pushed through the double glass doors, and Massie instantly changed the subject.

“And that’s why I switched to AT&T.”

“I’m going to make the switch too.” Alicia nodded enthusiastically.

“But you need Cingular for the iPhone,” Kristen reminded them.

“Point.” Alicia lifted a pruny finger.

Layne stood above their chaises and looked down, her arms folded across her chest like she knew they had been lying. But she didn’t look hurt. In fact, she was smiling in a soft, confident way, like someone about to make the winning move in a long, heated game of chess. “I
heard
everything you said.”

“That’s fine.” Massie shrugged off the accusation. “It’s no secret that AT&T has a good nationwide calling plan. You should consider switching.”

“No, I mean about my
brother
.”

Claire smile-bit her bottom lip.

“And Skye,” Layne finished.

Massie focused on the grumbling Jacuzzi jets to keep herself from fainting.

No one said a word.

“Don’t you want to know how?”

They nodded slowly.

Slapping a clump of mousy brown hair to the left of her head, Layne revealed a tiny, putty-colored earpiece nestled in her ear.

“You’re
deaf
?” Alicia gasped.

“Hearing impaired.” Kristen was quick to correct her.

“How did you read our lips from the bathroom?” Dylan sounded amazed.

“I heard deaf people have better vision than nondeaf people,” Alicia explained.

“Hearing
impaired
,” Kristen insisted.

“I’m the opposite of deaf,” Layne beamed. “I have superhuman hearing, thanks to my Spy Ear.”

They stared at the peanut-shaped contraption.

“I knew Massie was lying about my pants, because I was lying about my per—” Alicia held up her palm. “Don’t say it!”

“So I activated my Spy Ear so I could hear what you were saying about me when I left.”

“Where did you
get
that?” Massie asked with genuine interest.

“EBay,” Layne replied. “But it only works with a Nokia phone, and Nokia doesn’t use AT&T, so you’re out of luck.”

Claire giggled. She was constantly impressed with Layne, who had the uncanny ability to not let the Pretty Committee get to her. It was like she was made of Teflon or something, and their words just slid right off of her.

“So what’s your point?” asked Massie, skillfully managing to put Layne on the defensive.

“I want to help,” Layne answered, helping herself to the tiny available corner of the girls’ chaise.

“Huh?”

“I want to help you make Chris like Skye.”

“Why?” Massie wiggled free from the others and jumped to her feet, causing the Pretty Committee to collapse like a heap of old, worn stuffed animals.

“Just to help.”

“Why?”
Her voice echoed against the misty white tiles. “Because I want my brother to get over Fawn. He’s been so depressed lately, and he never wants to hang out anymore.”

“That’s it? It’s that simple?”

“It’s that simple,” Layne assured her. “Oh, but if you could throw in one of those disposable bathing suits, I’d appreciate it. I think it would look cute with my gauchos.”

T
HE
A
BELEY
H
OUSE
L
AYNE’S
B
EDROOM

Sunday, April 25th

2:19
P.M.

Massie placed her right hand on her waist, letting the left dangle at her side, Saks-mannequin-style. She rotated her torso five degrees and lifted her chin ever so slightly.

“Rate me,” she murmured through a stiff smile.

Her cap-sleeved midnight-blue BCBG minidress complemented the gray tights and metallic-silver Frye motorcycle boots that had just arrived from ShopBop. And her hair, thanks to a dollop of straightening gel and an early-morning blowout by Jakkob, was practically reflective. Chanel No. 5 wafted from her pressure points, filling Layne’s glow-in-the-dark bedroom with the crisp smell of spring, a necessary change from the oily bovine funk of Slim Jims.

“What do you mean,
rate
you?” Layne clamped her limp, light brown hair to the back of her head with a neon-pink banana clip. The Spencer’s Gifts–type accessory seemed to fit right in with the collection of neon face masks, highlighter-colored lightbulbs, and fluorescent rugs that surrounded them.

“I
mean,
how do I
look
?” Massie huffed, longing for her girls. “Give me a number out of ten.”

“It’s kinda hard to see in the dark.” Layne bounced off her luminous paint-splattered duvet cover and flicked on the lights.

“Ehmagawd, thank gawd,” Massie mumbled. “I was starting to feel trapped in an episode of
The Simpsons
.”

Layne, ignoring the dig, circled Massie, slowly tapping her lip. “Hmmmm.”

“What?” Massie’s heart quickened.

Were the boots too loud? Tights too drab? Mini too mini?

“I’d say you’re aaaaaaaaah…” She made one more rotation. “Seven.”

Massie gasped. “Sev-uhn?”

“Higher than you expected?” Layne tightened the gold sash on her multicolored satin kimono, a bathrobe she somehow thought appropriate to pair with black knee-high Steve Madden wedges.

“Nope,” Massie lied. “It’s exactly what I thought you’d say.”

She longed for the Pretty Committee, who never gave her lower than an eight point five, but knew her decision to ban them from this mission had been the right one. It would have been impossible to have an effective heart-to-heart with Chris if her friends were there, watching, giggling, judging. Besides, what if he started crushing on Alicia instead of—