Bratfest at Tiffany's (10 page)

Puuuuuuuuuurpppp
.
Puuuuuuuuuurpppp
.

Three LBRs shed their nubby white towels and tiptoed to the concrete lip of the pool. “Ready?” asked the one in the purple racer-back Speedo.

“Ready,” answered her friends as they pinched their noses and stepped in.

A swell of guy-cheers exploded from the water when they entered.

“Do I look fat?” Strawberry whispered from the side of her mouth.

“No. Do I?” Kori asked.

“Impossible.”

Puuuuuuuuuurpppp
.
Puuuuuuuuuurpppp
.

They joined hands and stood. Strawberry held one out for Alicia, who politely refused it with a subtle headshake.

“One … two … three!” shouted Kori. And the two girls raced into the steamy pool.

Puuuuuuuuuurpppp
.

“No running!” shouted Miss Kuznick, who could barely be heard above the echoing screams of the treading pervs.

Aside from Cam and Olivia, who had been granted unofficial permission to dress baby Kate, Alicia and Josh were the only dry ones left. And there was no
way
Alicia was going to take off her cover-up while he was standing right in front of her. There was only one way out of this.

Puuuuuuuuuurpppp
.

She sat up straight and kicked off her black flip-flops.

Josh removed his blue New York Yankees cap.

She placed her conditioner on the floor.

He retied his burgundy-and-blue madras swim trunks.

She stood.

He stood.

She walked toward the pool’s edge.

He followed.

“Take. It. Off!” shouted Kemp. “Take. It. Offffffffff!”

Alicia grinned like a girl with a plan.

Josh snicker-blushed, trapped somewhere between wanting to laugh with his friend and wanting to kill him for harassing his crush.

It was time.

“See
ya
!” Alicia shoved him, purposely using just enough force to jostle him, but not quite enough to knock him in.

“Hey!” He grabbed her wrists and forced her to the edge.

“Stop it!” she fake-screamed.

Puuuuuuuuurpppp
.
Puuuuuuuuurpppp
.
Puuuuuuuuurpppp
.

“No pushing!” Miss Kuznick yelled.

But it was too late. Josh threw Alicia into the pool. In her cover-up.
Oops
!

Like a supermodel in a slow-motion underwater commercial for some new exotic perfume, white cotton parachuted around her while her silky, deep-conditioned hair fanned out in all directions. Once she was on the bottom, the cover-up settled against her body. Tiny victory bubbles escaped from the sides of her mouth, and she imagined Massie and the NPC gazing over the side of the pool, applauding her on a brilliantly executed plan.

The overhead muffled boom of Josh’s cannonball entry shattered the fantasy but not the mood. And Alicia resurfaced beaming, feeling safe, protected, and humiliation-free. She slapped the heavy wet cover-up on the side of the pool, then joined her panting, treading classmates.

Cam finally slipped in the water, mindful not to splash baby Kate, whose arm was in Olivia’s mouth as she slowly lowered herself into the water via the ladder.

Baby Kate burst into hysterics and squirmed to free herself. “Olivia, take her out of your mouth!” Cam shouted as he sidestroked his way to his rubber child’s side.

Olivia released her canine grip and Kate fell into the water.

“You can’t just drop her like that!” Cam shrieked.

“Why?” Olivia dismissed her overprotective baby daddy with an eye-roll. “She’s wearing wings.”

Alicia and Josh treaded and giggled, partly because of Olivia’s cluelessness, but mostly because they were together.

“So spill it,” Strawberry panted. “Why weren’t you sitting with Massie during lunch today? Are you guys fighting?”

“Opposite of yes!” Alicia gasped at the mere implication and accidentally swallowed a gulp of chlorinated water. “It was a total mistake,” she insisted, ignoring Josh’s knowing underwater foot-nudge. “I thought she would be at eighteen and—”

“Is she mad at you?” Kori paddled into their circle. “You know, for ditching her?”

“I didn’t ditch her, it was a—”

Puuuuuuuuuurpppp
.

Alicia was grateful for the whistle. The last thing she needed was to get bombarded with questions she herself had been struggling to answer. Besides, she didn’t want to think about Massie right now. Because
now
she was playing underwater footsie with Josh. And his feet were rea-
lllly
soft.

WESTCHESTER, NY
WRAP STAR GOURMET

Wednesday, September 9th
3:53
P.M.

The NPC sat around a red horseshoe-shaped booth in back of the crowded 1950s-style diner, nervously tapping their manicured nails against the turquoise Formica tabletop. Claire, wishing she had nails to tap, picked at her mangled cuticles.

“So what’s this emergency meeting all about?” Dylan finally asked, removing her chocolate brown leather blazer.

Massie spoon-swirled peach fro-yo around her canoe-shaped china dish.

“Yeah, just tell us.” Kristen dumped a pile of salt onto the table, then carved a
K
in it with her finger.

“Let’s give Alicia another minute.” Massie checked the time on her iPhone. “If she’s not here by three fifty-six, I’ll start.”

Dylan sipped her lemon water while eyeing a plate of cheese fries that were en route to a table of chunky seventh-graders. Kristen added a dash of pepper to her salt pile. Massie slapped her fro-yo with the back of her spoon. Claire gazed out the window.

A girl standing across the tree-lined street caught her attention. Like Alicia, she was wearing a white pleated tennis skirt, green platform sandals, and a white short-sleeved button-down with a cute little tie. But this girl was wearing a bright pink New York Yankees cap, and Alicia would never—

The girl took off the cap and jammed it in the bottom of her black leather bag. She waved goodbye to someone in the distance, looked both ways, then power-walked across the busy intersection. It
was
Alicia. The only person who refused to run, even while dodging SUVs during rush hour.

“Heyyyyy.” She scurried over to their table and slid into the booth next to Claire. “Am I late?” She fanned her cheeks with the 1950s trivia place mat. “Wha’d I miss?”

Massie dropped her phone in the outside pocket of her shiny red metallic purse, refusing to meet her friend’s chlorine-red eyes. “What’s with the hat-hair?” she asked, somehow knowing, without lifting her head, that Alicia had a flat top.

Alicia quickly finger-combed.

“Were you wearing a
cap
?” Massie pushed her dish aside and finally made eye contact.

“What?” Alicia’s tan shifted from brown to red. “Ew! No!”

“Bike helmet?” Kristen asked.

“No!”

“What about a yarmulke?” Dylan giggled, petting her long straight hair.

Claire shifted uncomfortably. She’d
seen
the New York Yankees cap. She
knew
Alicia was sneaking around with Josh. And that was totally unfair to the rest of them—but at the same time kind of understandable. If Cam still liked
her
, wouldn’t she be doing the same thing? Or would she have had the strength to put her friends first? Not that it mattered, because Cam liked Olivia. And they had a baby. And … Claire reached for Massie’s soupy, sugary fro-yo and began power-slurping, hoping the sudden cold would numb her brain.

“So it totally sucks that we got separated.” Alicia pouted. “I was so freaked out when I looked up and saw that I was at the wrong table. I wanted to get over to you guys, but Dean Don was totally staring me down because I came in late. I’m totally gonna have my dad sue the school for keeping us apart and we’ll use the money to buy new—”

“Why didn’t you just ask if you could be with us?” Massie folded her arms firmly across her A-cups.

Three preppy eighth-grade boys strolled past their table on their way to the jukebox, jingling quarters and chugging Cokes from glass bottles. They slowed to check out the girls, who all lowered their heads to avoid breaking NPC protocol.

“Well, at first I thought maybe you’d
want
me to stay,” Alicia tried. “You know, to have someone on the inside, keeping you up-to-date on all of the gossip. …”

Massie rolled her eyes.

“But, uh, then I decided it was a lame idea.” Alicia absent-mindedly glanced out the window, as if she was waiting for someone. “So I’m gonna try and switch tomorrow.”

Claire slurped faster. Between Alicia’s bad acting and Massie’s doubting cross-table glare, she was seconds away from crawling under the table, rocking back and forth, and whisper-praying for everyone to
please
get along.

“Why were you sitting in the LBR section anyway?” Alicia asked, lifting ice cubes out of her lemon water with a fork.

“We were sitting in the LBR section because the Soccer Stalkers and our ex-crushes
stole our table
!”

Dylan leaned forward. “I swear, it was more embarrassing than getting checked for lice.”

“Seriously.” Kristen swept her salt pile on the floor. “At least the lice pickers have the decency to examine us in private. This was
totally
public. The whole New Green Café watched us walk to the LBR section.”

“It
was
pretty bad,” Claire added, trying to stay in the conversation.

Alicia’s fake pout turned real. The corners of her mouth twitched. And the sparkle left her eyes. Was it guilt? Fear? Pity?

The jukebox boys strolled by on their way back to their stools at the counter as an old song about hound dogs blasted through the diner. This time they ignored the NPC, choosing instead to share their come-hither stares with a table of chocolate milkshake-sharing seventh-grade LBRs.

“So what’s the overflow like?” Alicia twisted and turned her silver pinky ring. “Is it cool? I bet it must be fun being off on your own.”

“Put it this way,” Dylan chimed in. “Layne think it’s super-cool.”

“Yeah, and I passed out because it was sooo cool,” Massie snapped.

“You did? What happened? Was it a low blood sugar thing?” Alicia studied her friends, searching their faces for an explanation.

“More like a low point in my life thing,” Massie offered.

“At least I don’t have to be baby Kate’s stepmom anymore.” Claire tried to sound upbeat. She hoped Alicia would volunteer the latest on Cam and Olivia. But she didn’t. So Claire tried again.

“So, how is the happy couple?”

Massie shook her charm bracelet in front of Claire’s face.

“I meant, how are they doing as
parents
?”

“Who knows?” Alicia’s eyes wandered toward the window again. “I’ve been keeping to myself the whole time. You know, cuz of the b-fast.”

Massie’s doubting glare lingered on Alicia for a few more uncomfortable seconds until she finally shook her head and refocused. “So, I called this emergency meeting today …”

Everyone leaned forward.

“… to figure out how we can get rid of the boys and get our school back.” She pulled out her new Palm T/X handheld and opened a fresh Word document. “Any suggestions?”

“Maybe my mom could do a telethon on her talk show to raise money for a new school,” Dylan suggested. “We can have A-listers work the phones and beg America to call in with donations.”

“Not bad.” Massie nodded, tapping the suggestion into her PDA. “Anyone else?”

“Oh, I know!” Kristen raised her hand. “We could have a girls-versus-boys soccer match, and the losers would have to leave and—”

Massie lowered her Palm. “Do you awnestly think the Sirens could beat the Tomahawks?”

“Well, what if we make it so the losers get to stay and the winners have to leave?”

Everyone cracked up, even Kristen herself. But Alicia’s smile quickly faded when the restaurant door opened.

Massie noticed Alicia’s sudden shift. She turned around and came face-to-face with Derrington, Plovert, Kemp, Josh, Strawberry, and Kori. They all had damp hair and big cocky smiles.

“Ehmagawd, jeans again!” Massie whisper-blurted, and then blushed.

“Diesel,” Dylan muttered from the corner of her glossed mouth. “They look cute.”

“Whatevs.”
Massie slapped Dylan’s wrist. “Don’t look.”

The NPC lifted their lemon waters and sipped.

Claire quickly checked to see if Cam and Olivia were trailing behind the group, but there was no sign of them. Were they in his basement playing PGR4 on his Xbox? Doubling around the neighborhood on his black BMX bike? Sharing gummy worms on the swings at the elementary school? Claire gripped her NPC bracelet so hard, the point on the bottom of the heart charm dug into her palm and made it throb.

“What are
you
doing here?” Derrington asked, faking surprise. Kemp and Plovert stood by his side, snickering, while Josh and the Soccer Stalkers quickly filled the empty booth behind them. Alicia lowered her head even further, as if
that
would somehow prove to the NPC how uninterested she was in her new classmates. “I heard the diner just got an overflow section in the parking lot …”