The Clique (8 page)

“When did you meet him?” Kristen asked.

“Yesterday, at Galwaugh Farms,” Massie said.

“While you were
sick?
” Alicia asked.

“I wasn’t sick all day,” Massie said.

“Oh,” Alicia said.

“I got a lot better.” Massie gathered her hair and twisted it in a bun on the back of her head, then took the chopsticks that came with her spicy tuna rolls and slid them through the knot to keep everything in place. Then she continued.

“He is fifteen, ah-dorable, and has his own horse,” Massie said.

“He sounds perfect,” Kristen gushed. “He could be the
one
.”

“Tell us everything.” Alicia nodded. “Every last little detail.”

And she did.

O
CTAVIAN
C
OUNTRY
D
AY
S
CHOOL
T
HE
C
AFÉ

12:30
P.M
. September 2nd

Even though Claire had zero appetite, she slid an orange plastic tray along the silver rails in front of the food displays. It was the only way she could blend in while she evaluated the lunchtime scene. She passed sushi platters, tofu steaks, crudités, and a colorful “design your own salad” section, but she didn’t care about any of it. She was too busy checking out the other girls. She didn’t have to have grown up in Westchester to know that the table where she chose to sit in the next few minutes would brand her for life.

“Will that be all?” the checkout lady asked.

A girl in line behind Claire let out a chuckle.

Claire looked down at her tray and realized it was still empty. She reached into the box by the register and pulled out a Toblerone bar.

“Finally, a girl around here who actually eats chocolate,” the checkout lady said. “How refreshing.”

Claire smiled and wondered if it was really possible to be in a school where no one ate junk food.

But it was. Bottles of Glaceau water were on every table. Even if Claire
wanted
to order a bottle for herself, she wouldn’t have known how to pronounce it. She tried to see what Massie was eating but couldn’t get a good look.

She was in the far corner of the room with Alicia, Dylan, and Kristen. It was the only four-top in the café. All of the other tables were designed to fit at least six. The four girls were sitting with their heads close together, and Claire figured they were telling secrets. Every few seconds a laugh would erupt from the table and one of them would break free from the huddle just long enough to have a quick look around, to make sure they hadn’t been overheard. The other girls in the cafeteria seemed to be overwhelmingly drawn to them. In a matter of only five minutes at least four different wannabes approached their table, each of their faces bright with an eager smile. Each girl stayed for a few minutes, but the second she walked away, Alicia, Dylan, Kristen, and Massie would go back to talking and giggling, probably about whoever had just stopped by for a chat.

Claire knew a seat at that table would guarantee her a promising future at OCD, but considering the morning she had just had, she refused to let herself fantasize about it. It was never going to happen.

Not every table seemed as exclusive as Massie’s, but they didn’t seem as appealing either. One group of heavily painted girls looked like someone on the Psychic Friends Network did their makeup. And another group was so thin, they looked like the lipstick-covered straws that floated inside their diet Coke cans. Three girls, who Claire assumed were wrestlers because their necks and shoulders touched, pounded cartons of milk by the table next to the bathroom. She considered taking their picture and calling it “Got Friends?” but she was hardly one to talk.

A white flash of light that came from one, of the middle tables suddenly caught her attention. It was followed by loud bursts of laughter that filled the café. Claire made these girls her target. She watched as everyone tried to distance themselves from the hysterics by pulling their chairs in closer to their tables or by walking away before they had finished eating. Claire thought about going over to these laughing girls and trying to sit with them. Would this be a good move, politically? Maybe not. But at least she’d finally have a little fun.

Claire reached in the cell phone pocket of her backpack (which held makeup and gum because a phone was out of the question until she turned sixteen) and pulled out her grape-scented lip gloss. She applied two coats and then dipped the wand back in its tube.

“Excuse me.” Claire was standing behind two of the girls and facing another. “Is that a PowerShot S100 digital Elph?”

Three faces turned toward Claire at the exact same time. They were still smiling from whatever had happened before Claire interrupted them.

“Yeah, I just got it for my birthday,” the photographer said. Her hair was separated into seven braids. She wore faded jeans with suspenders and a pink tank top.

“That’s so funny, I have the exact same one.” Claire searched through her bag, looking for the proof. “I take it everywhere.” She held the tiny silver camera in the palm of her hand as if it were a baby bird.

The other girls at the table had rhinestone tattoos on their upper arms. One had a blue butterfly and the other a pink heart.

“Are those real?” Claire pointed to the rhinestones and smiled. She wanted the girls to know she was joking. But it didn’t work.

“No,” the girl with the butterfly said. “We got them from the drugstore for like a buck twenty.”

“Oh, well, around here you never know,” Claire said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if those Picassos on the wall were real.” She pointed to the paintings that hung inside glass cases around the room.

“They are,” said the girl with the pink heart.

The girl with the butterfly wore red cords and a T-shirt with the devil on it that said, D
ADDY’S
L
ITTLE
G
IRL
. The one with the heart was dressed in blue-and-white-striped jeans, like the kind train conductors wear, and a black I ♥ CARBS T-shirt. They both had yellow, green, and orange streaks, which Claire knew was hair mascara, because a lot of the girls in her old school had been into it.

Claire could feel Massie’s eyes on her from all the way across the room. She did her best to ignore the icy glares and tried to look like she was making friends.

“What were you guys laughing about?” Claire asked.

The girl looked at her friends to see if they thought if was safe before she continued.

“Do you have Vincent for art?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, we’re taking pictures of ourselves acting out his different expressions,” the girl said. She pushed a button on the back of the camera and shuttled through the images she had already shot. She held the camera out in front of Claire so she could see the screen from the other side of the table. “Here’s Meena acting out ‘you’re tardy!’ and this is one of Heather ‘in love with a vase of flowers.’”

Claire started laughing.

“Do you want to try?” the girl asked. “Okay, show me
lost
.”

Claire put what was left of her fingernails in her mouth and forced the corners of her lips toward her chin. This made the veins on her neck stick out. She opened her eyes as wide as they would go and slid both of her pupils to the right as if she’d just heard a frightening sound.

The flash went off and the girls exploded. The one with the FCUK T-shirt laughed so hard a little milk dribbled out her nose.

Claire checked to see if Massie was still watching her. She was.

“My name is Layne,” the girl with the camera offered. Claire thought the girl looked like a female version of Tom Cruise, with her big nose, green eyes, and slightly crooked smile. The wild braided hair seemed to be the only thing keeping her from a career as his stunt double.

“This is Heather and Meena,” Layne said.

“Hi.” Heather smiled.

“Hi.” Meena smiled too.

“I’m Claire.”

“Aren’t you Massie’s friend?” Heather asked.

Before Claire answered, she checked to make sure Massie wasn’t watching her anymore.

“Uh, yeah, I am,” Claire said softly. “How’d you know?”

“I saw you with her this morning. And you’re dressed like a pure Massie-chist.”

Claire was glad she wasn’t in the clothes she’d worn school that day or they never would have believed her.

“Um, since I’m new here, I’m trying to meet everyone,” Claire said. “Massie was bummed about it at first because she was scared I’d make other friends and dump her—”

“She
told
you that?” Layne asked.

“Not exactly.” Claire bit her lip. “She wrote it in an e-mail.” “

No
way,” Meena said. “What did she write?”

Heather looked at her watch and let out a loud whine. “Meena, we have to meet LuLu about getting into her dress-making class,” she said.

“I can’t believe we have to leave right when the Massie gossip is getting started,” Meena said.

“Don’t worry, I have plenty more Massie stories. I’ll tell you everything next time,” Claire said.

“Promise?” Meena asked.

“Promise.” Claire raised her palm in the air like she was being sworn in under oath. Okay, so it wasn’t really true. But better to be a liar than a loser, right?

Now that the girls were gone, Claire realized she had been standing up that whole time. She felt awkward looking down at Layne, who was seated.

“Did you eat yet?” Layne asked. “’Cause I have tons of oatmeal left if you want some—it’s protein enriched. I bring it every day from home. I’m addicted.”

Claire appreciated the offer, but the thought of sharing goopy oatmeal from a stranger’s thermos made her want to dry-heave.

“No, thanks,” Claire lied.

She was talking to Layne but kept her eyes fixed on Massie, who sat down at a nearby table to talk to some friends. Claire shifted in her seat uncomfortably and only half paid attention to her conversation with Layne.

After a very short visit Claire watched Massie program some girls’ numbers into her cell phone. Alicia, Dylan, and Kristen turned three-quarters and waved goodbye from over their shoulders. Claire seemed to be the next stop on their table tour, because they were walking straight toward her.

Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings

These are a few of my favorite things. …

Claire caught a whiff of Massie’s perfume and knew they were getting closer. Before she could decide if she should get up and run or hide under the table, the four girls had arrived. Layne looked at Claire to see how she would greet them, probably hoping for an introduction. But nothing happened. They brushed by the table and didn’t say a word to anyone.

False alarm
.

“Jeez,” Layne said. “Massie is
really
jealous.”

“I told you.” Claire ran her fingers across her bangs, suddenly anxious about how they looked. But the second Massie left the café, Claire relaxed.

Layne and Claire spent the rest of lunch period talking about their mutual love of old musicals (especially
Sound of Music, Annie,
and
Wizard of Oz
), skater boys, and digital cameras. They hated the snobby factor of
Teen Vogue
and thought Drew Barrymore seemed like she’d be kinda bitchy.

“We are such soul sisters,” Claire said.

“I know,” Layne said. “We have to start hanging out.” She wiped a glob off the side of her thermos and packed it up in her backpack

Claire, suddenly embarrassed for Layne, scrambled to focus on something else.

“That is the coolest bag I’ve ever seen,” Claire said.

It had a dark green shell that opened like the trunk on a scooter. The surface was covered in stickers from different snowboard companies, except for two spots on the either side. That’s where the stereo speakers were.

Layne pushed a button on the top of the bag and a techno remix blasted through the room.

The diet Coke girls whipped their heads around to find the source of the sudden noise. Once they saw Layne holding her bag up to her ear, they lost interest and turned back to their sodas.

“It has a CD player built into it. I got it for fifty bucks. Can you believe?” Layne said.

“Half the bags I’ve seen around here cost ten times more and
they
don’t do
anything!
” Claire exclaimed.

Layne laughed.

“Hey, Friday night, wanna go to a movie or listen to my bag or something?” she asked.

“Yeah, I would love to.” Claire hugged her new friend and gave her a huge smile, but deep down inside, a little nagging part of her wished she had been invited to sit at an A-list table instead.

“Maybe I should check with my mom first,” Claire said.

B
RIARWOOD
A
CADEMY
H
IDDEN IN THE
B
USHES

3:25
P.M
. September 4th

The heavy oak doors of Briarwood Academy flew open and a rush of boys in gray jackets and red ties poured out of the building and stomped all over the grass in the middle of the huge circular driveway. Massie, Alicia, and Dylan were hiding across the street from the boys’ school, but thanks to the binoculars they’d “borrowed” from the science lab, they felt like they could touch it.

“Shhhhhh, here they come,” Massie whispered. She ducked behind the manicured row of hedges where Alicia and Dylan were already crouched and in position.

Dylan let the binoculars dangle from the string around her neck so she could tear the stubborn silver foil off her Zone bar. To Massie, the crinkling wrapper sounded like nickels raining down on a tin roof.

“
Shhhhhh,
” Massie whispered again.

“It’s not like he can hear me from all the way—,” Dylan started. But Massie quickly put her hand over Dylan’s mouth to shut her up.

“I don’t see him,” Alicia whispered. “What does he look like again?”

“Leo DiCaprio, before he got doughy,” Massie said.

“Every guy here looks like that,” Alicia said.

“Yeah, but Chris Abeley has messy hair—in blond!” Massie said.