The Pretty Committee Strikes Back (22 page)

But no one even noticed Claire when she finally stepped inside. Everyone was crammed together on Massie's bed, applying a green mud mask to Doose's face and recounting the details of her horizontal lip kiss for the unfortunate girls who'd missed it.

Claire made it to the back of the cabin unnoticed and changed into her plaid flannel pajamas. She breathed a sigh of relief once she realized Alicia and Olivia were not there.

Claire and Layne sat in the very back of the group during the evening bonfire. From there Claire could catch glimpses of Cam, who looked down the whole night and played with the zipper on his leather jacket. Alicia and Olivia sat as far away from him as possible, pretending to listen to Mr. Myner read from
Hatchet,
but they were really more focused on braiding each other's hair. Massie sat beside Derrington and giggled while the MUCK girls studied her every move. Claire couldn't wait to crawl under her covers and disappear for the next ten hours.

When bedtime finally came, everyone fell fast asleep. The cool fresh air and the long, active day had made it almost impossible to stay awake. Claire's body felt heavy and sore from crying all night, and the minute she hit the goose-down pillow, she melted into its fluffy embrace.

A few moments later, she opened her eyes and looked around. It was still dark outside, and in the fog of sleep she wondered what she was doing awake.

“Claire,” whispered a girl. She was sitting on the edge of Claire's bed wearing shiny lip gloss that smelled like doughnuts, black eyeliner, and tons of red blush. Her wavy hair was pinned off her face with rhinestone barrettes and a short, cream-colored cashmere tie-front cardigan hung around her broad shoulders, leaving the rest of her naked torso exposed. Claire sat up and looked around to see if anyone else saw what she did.

“Shhh, it's me,” said the girl. That was when Claire noticed her eyes. One was green and the other was blue.

“Cam?” Claire whispered.

“Call me Camille,” he said in falsetto.

Claire giggled. He looked like a transvestite version of Massie. The thought of this ah-dorably handsome soccer star applying lip gloss in front of the mirror made staying mad impossible. He'd obviously gone to Massie and poured his heart out or she never would have lent him her precious tie-front cardigan. And here he was, dressed as a girl, risking his pride and his position on the soccer team just for her.

“Here.” Cam pulled a clear bag filled with gummy feet and sours out of his demin miniskirt pocket.

“Where did you get these?” Claire wanted to throw her arms around him. It had been weeks since he'd brought her candy. She untied the knot on the plastic bag and dug into it.

“I brought them from home and hid them under my mattress,” Cam said shyly. “You know, just in case we made up.”

“So you wanted to make up too?”

Cam nodded and smiled brightly, unable to play it cool.

“Then why were you ignoring me?” Claire smacked him playfully on the arm.

“Because I wasn't sure if you liked Josh,” Cam said. “You know, until some dude showed up in my cabin and set me straight.”

Once again, Massie Block had been right.

Claire pulled out a red sour and popped it in her mouth. Then she took out an orange foot and fed it to him. They watched each other chew with huge grins on their faces. Once they swallowed, Cam wiped his glossy lips on the back of his hand, then tilted his head to the right. Claire did the same. And without hesitation they leaned in toward each other.

Cam's lips were soft and full and sweet. His kiss didn't feel cold and foreign like Josh's had. It felt more like trying on a pair of jeans and realizing they were made just for her.

The longer their lips touched the hotter Claire's cheeks became, until she found herself wondering how much longer she could kiss before her head exploded.

Finally Cam came up for air. “I better go before I get kicked off the soccer team.”

“Okay,” Claire tried to say but no sound came out of her mouth. All she could do was watch him walk away in Massie's moccasin boots and giggle.

Her first kiss with Cam was nothing like she'd imagined it would be.

It was much better. And well worth the wait.

LAKE PLACID, NEW YORK FOREVER WILD CAMPSITE THE DINING PAVILION

Wednesday, February 25th 7:29
A.M.

“Can someone please pass the butter?” Claire refused to ask Alicia, even though the silver tray was right next to her plate.

Alicia ignored her and continued dumping ketchup on her egg whites.

“The butter, please,” Claire insisted.

Alicia poured herself a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice. “Want some?” she asked Olivia, who was seated beside her.

“Sure.” Olivia smiled and held out her glass.

Claire stood up and stomped to the other side of the table. She leaned over Alicia's shoulder and grabbed the butter tray. The bell sleeve of her gray J.Crew cowl-neck sweater brushed against Alicia's cheek. She didn't apologize.

Claire moved with a confidence Massie had never seen before. Her chin was lifted, her shoulders back, and she had a fearless look in her eyes, like she was being protected by some invisible force field that let her act however she wanted.

“Kuh-laire, what's going on?” Massie whispered in Claire's ear once she was seated. “You're acting so un-Claire-ish.”

Claire beamed. “We did it last night.”

“You did?” Massie forced herself to smile. She was happy for Claire but couldn't help wondering why she hadn't been told the big news right after it happened. Was she the first to know or was Layne? Who else had Claire told before her?

“Uh, should I keep it a secret?” Massie widened her amber eyes, hoping the innocent expression masked her true feelings. “Or does everyone know?”

“No one knows yet.” Claire took a sip of grape juice.

Massie sighed. “That's so awesome.” She smiled for real this time. “Tell me everything. Don't leave one thing out.”

While Claire recounted Cam's romantic late-night visit as Camille, Massie placed the hunter green cloth napkin on her lap and lifted her silver knife and fork. In one swift movement she sliced through her eggs Benedict. The bright yellow yolks cascaded over the crispy ham, spilled off the toasted English muffin, and dripped onto her white china plate. It reminded her of the paint-splattered Jackson Pollock paintings in Alicia's house. She stabbed the cut piece with her fork and stuffed it in her mouth, grateful to have her appetite back. Her clothes were starting to sag in all the wrong places.

She lifted the green napkin to her mouth and dabbed at the corners of her lips, trying her hardest not to wipe off her lucky Cinnabon gloss in the process. Derrington was at the table beside hers, flinging a knifeful of grape jelly at Kemp. Massie quickly turned away before he caught her checking him out. How long would it be before they kissed again? Would they start doing it in the day? Or would it stay an après-dinner thing? And what would happen when they got back to Westchester? Massie's stomach locked up again and she pushed her plate to the side.

“It looks like everyone around here is getting action except for me.” Dylan twisted her long red curls into a chignon at the nape of her neck.

Claire turned red when she realized Dylan had heard everything she'd said about Cam. “I was totally going to tell you.”

“It's not that.” Dylan leaned across the table so that she was face-to-face with Claire and Massie. “It's just that I've been so stressed about my mom and Mr. Myner that I haven't had any time to devote to my crush on Chris Plovert.”

“So?” Massie shrugged. “There's still time.”

“Totally.” Claire rested her hand on Dylan's shoulder. “We can come up with a plan for you to kiss him after dinner tonight. That's our specialty.” She winked at Massie.

“What I need is a plan to get rid of Olivia.” Dylan glared at the perky blonde at the other end of the table. “Plovert is totally into her.”

“How do you know?” Massie insisted, even though she knew Dylan was right.

“Last night he asked me to find out if Olivia was into anyone.” Dylan smacked her stack of syrupy pancakes with the back of a spoon.

“Oh.” Massie slid her compass charm back and forth on the gold chain around her neck.

“Attention, please,” Mr. Dingle announced from the front of the room.

Massie was grateful for the interruption. She wanted to make Dylan feel better but had no idea what to tell her. Everyone knew Plovert was into Olivia. He had been stalking her like a hungry bear ever since they'd stepped off the bus.

“Your attention, please.” Mr. Dingle pushed his big square glasses up on his nose, then clasped his hands behind his back like he was hiding something back there. “Qui-et!”

The room was silent except for the scraping and clinking of knives and forks against china plates.

Once he had everyone's attention, Mr. Dingle revealed what he had been concealing. Everyone burst into hysterical laughter when he held up a tree branch with a pair of satin underwear dangling from it.

“I found this hanging from a tree at the beginning of Honeysuckle Trail behind the girls' cabin,” he said. “And the worst part is, it was hanging a few feet away from an innocent snowy owl's nest.”

The room exploded into more laughter. Claire turned bright red and looked at Layne. But Layne didn't notice. Her face was buried inside her backpack. She was pretending to search for something of great importance.

“Not only is dyed satin a huge environmental hazard …” Mr. Dingle took off his glasses. His beady eyes searched the crowd. “But I'd hoped a few days in the wilderness would have taught you to respect nature.” He waved the stick and underwear around like a shredded battle flag. “I demand to know who is responsible.”

The room was silent, except for a few false accusations from the boys' table.

“If no one comes forward, you will all pay.” Mr. Dingle put his glasses back on and pushed them into position with his index finger. “How does a six-mile hike and no lunch sound?”

The murmurs built until everyone was speaking at full volume.

“Claire, isn't that
your
underwear?” Alexandra shouted from the other girls' table. “You have, like, ten pairs of those.”

“She'sright,” Carrie said. “She'stheonlyone who wears fullpanties. Weallwearthongs.”

The boys cracked up and started punching Cam. He turned bright red and whacked them back.

Claire hunched over and rubbed her forehead.

Massie glared at Layne, silently threatening her to speak up, or else.

“Uh, I know who did it,” Layne offered softly.

“Louder,” Massie said through her teeth.

Claire looked at Layne with a worried look on her face. She obviously didn't want her friend going down like this. Layne already took enough heat for her crazy outfits and disgusting food obsessions. If everyone found out she'd hidden dirty underwear in a tree, she'd never recover. It would be the final nail in her social coffin.

“I know who did it.” Claire jumped to her feet.

The room was silent. Massie's heart was pounding. She couldn't bring herself to look at Claire, even though she was dying to see what would happen next.

“They're
hers
.” Claire pointed at Alicia.

“
What
?” Alicia screeched. She slapped her hand against her chest. “What are you tawk-ing about?”

Everyone started whispering.

“Alicia, is this true?” Mr. Dingle asked.

“No,” Alicia insisted. Her cheeks turned the color of Claire's grape juice. “’Course not.”

“Because if you're lying, everyone in this room is looking at a six-mile hike and—”

“It's true,” Livvy piped up. “I saw Claire lend her a pan-when we got here.”

“I saw that too,” Alexandra said.

“Me too,” Layne shouted. When no one was looking she mouthed “Thank you” to Claire.

“Ew, why would I ever borrow Claire's underwear?” Alicia shouted. “I think I can afford my own.”

“You borrowed it, remember?” Olivia was obviously trying to be helpful. “It was the day we got here. We were unpacking and Claire gave you—”

Alicia elbowed Olivia in the stomach.

“Ow,” Olivia wailed. “What'd you do that for?”

Alicia glared at Olivia until she finally realized she had made matters worse for her friend. “Ehmagawd, I am soooo sorry,” she whispered.

Massie was too shocked to get involved. She could not believe Claire had the guts to blame Alicia. But then again, Alicia kind of deserved it for putting the moves on Cam. But hadn't Alicia just been paying Claire back for kissing Josh? The situation was too complicated to pick a side, even for Massie. She popped a home fry in her mouth and crossed her legs. It was nice to watch someone else's social life crash and burn for a change.

It wasn't long before the boys started chanting, “Alicia Rivera's underwear-a,” over and over again.

“It's not mine.” Alicia jumped to her feet.

But no one heard her over the chanting.

“Thanks ah-lot!” Alicia shouted at Claire before she turned and bolted. It was the first time Massie had ever seen her run.

“Come back here, Ms. Rivera,” Mr. Dingle insisted. But Alicia ran past him and straight out the door.

“I better go see if she's okay.” Olivia threw her napkin on the table and chased after her friend.

“Me too.” Dylan stuffed two bagels and a few slices of cheese in the pockets of her bomber jacket. “They're for Kristen,” she said when she noticed Massie's look of disgust. “It's my turn to bring her food.”

Massie grinned. She felt light and utterly stress-free, like she was on a spa vacation. This was so not her problem.

The chanting got louder.

“ALICIA RIVERA'S UNDERWEAR-A!

“ALICIA RIVERA'S UNDERWEAR-A!

“ALICIA RIVERA'S UNDERWEAR-A!

“ALICIA RIVERA'S UNDERWEAR-A!”

“That's enough!” Mr. Dingle shouted. He dropped the stick and the dirty underwear in the trash. The chanting turned into whispers and then finally faded away.

“I feel terrible,” Claire announced softly.

“Explain.” Massie took a sip of orange juice and popped another home fry in her mouth. She felt like she was watching a movie. She understood perfectly why Claire felt guilty blaming an innocent girl, but she didn't want the show to end. Why put out a perfectly good fire when you can throw more fuel on it and watch
it
burn?