She heard a light tapping on her bedroom door. “Gotta go,” she whispered.
“Was it something we said?” Alicia sounded genuinely concerned.
“No. Claire’s here.”
“Shocker,” Dylan said under her breath.
“She’s always there,” Kristen said before hanging up.
Massie snapped her phone shut and quickly shut off her computer. “Come in.”
Claire pushed the door open but stayed in the hallway. She widened her big blue eyes and opened her mouth. She looked like a shocked emoticon. “I can’t believe my eyes.”
“Me either,” Massie said to Claire’s shoes. “Are you really wearing
those
to the High Hills Country Club tonight?”
“I thought you’d like my new camo high-tops.” Claire stuck out her right leg and pointed her toes like a ballerina. “They’re Converse, not Keds.”
“I know what they are.” Massie raised her eyes, scanning Claire’s faded high-waisted Gap jeans and then her flower-print button-down with pink pearl western buttons.
“I knew you’d like them.” Claire smiled. “I e-mailed a picture of them to Cam and he said he got the exact same pair over break. I swear sometimes I think we’re more like twins than boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“So, are you and Cam Fisher officially boyfriend and girl-friend now?” Massie asked casually. She didn’t want Claire to know how much that news shocked her. But how could it not? Claire actually had a real boyfriend before she did. That was not supposed to happen.
“Yeah, he just asked me.” Claire blushed. “It was so cute—he sent me an Evite inviting me to be his girlfriend.”
Massie pretended to be distracted by a piece of lint on the sleeve of her tweed blazer.
Claire giggled softly, then said, “I RSVP’d ‘yes.’”
Massie looked up. “That’s great.” She forced herself to smile. “But that still doesn’t change the fact that you’re planning to wear camo sneakers to a country club.”
Claire rolled her eyes and smiled.
Massie was tempted to say she wouldn’t use those shoes to scoop up Bean’s poo. But she couldn’t be mean. Not tonight.
“Your room looks ah-mazing.” Claire changed the subject. Massie giggled when she heard Claire using one of her expressions. After all, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
“Thanks. Wanna see all my new clothes?” Massie waved her arms in the air like a game-show hostess.
“Uh, sure.” But she was staring at Massie’s Glossip Girl collection.
“Feel free to wear whatever you want to the club tonight.” Massie pushed her closet door and it popped open. She tugged on the purple feather boa that hung from the light switch in the middle of the ceiling and a warm orange light lit the inside, triggering a disco ball that automatically started spinning, sending white, swirling squares across the walls.
“It looks like Benetton in here.” Claire admired the colorful selection.
“More like Bergdorf’s. Here.” Massie yanked a caramel-colored cashmere cowl-neck sweater off a hanger and draped it over Claire’s shoulder. Then she grabbed her dark Juicy Couture jeans and a pair of two-inch teal round-toe Marc Jacobs boots. “Wear this. And cuff the jeans so the boots show.”
“Why are you letting me wear your new clothes?”
“The club has a dress code.”
Claire held the jeans in her arms and crinkled her eyebrows. “What is it?”
“Cool,” Massie said with a playful smile.
Claire giggled and shrugged.
Before she slid off her jeans, Claire emptied her pockets. “Want one?” She dangled a clear plastic bag in front of Massie’s face. Tangles of oily gummy worms were stuck together in a sweaty clump.
“Uh, okay,” Massie said, making every effort to be nice.
“Really?” Claire pulled the bag away. “But you hate sugar.”
“No, I don’t,” Massie said, reaching for it. “Remember all of those mints I stole from the front desk at the ski lodge?”
The girls started cracking up when they remembered how stuffed Massie’s pockets had been. She’d barely been able to walk.
“Yeah, but you didn’t eat those; we threw them off the chair lifts.” Claire laughed.
“I ate a few.” Massie dug her hand into the bag. It was humid inside. She wouldn’t have felt any more disgusted if the worms had been real.
“Oh, here.” Claire tossed her digital camera to Massie.
“What’s this camera for?”
“I thought we could download the pictures from our trip onto your new computer.” Claire fell backward onto Massie’s bed. She was struggling to fasten the jeans.
“Uh, can you . . . ?” Massie was about to ask Claire to get off her bed, but it was too late. The duvet was already dented.
“I thought we could e-mail the good ones to Cam.” Claire sounded like she had just been punched in the stomach, until she finally closed the jeans. “I want to show him what a good time we had in Aspen. We should send some to Derrington too.”
Massie’s stomach flip-flopped when she heard Derrington’s name. No matter how hard she tried, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Derrington over break, and she wondered if he missed her half as much. He’d popped into her head as she was opening presents on Christmas day and while she was skiing moguls in Aspen. Massie had no idea why she was crushing so hard on a guy who wore shorts in the winter and insisted on wiggling his bare butt in public at least three times a week. Yes, his shaggy blond hair and sparkly brown eyes made him cuter than the majority of the Briarwood boys, and yes, he was the most valued player on their soccer team, but it was more than that. It had something to do with the fact that he’d exchanged the Diesel jeans Massie had bought him for Christmas and gotten two pairs of cargo shorts instead. On one hand it was rude, but on the other it was kind of cool. Derrington was the only person Massie had ever met who wasn’t afraid of her. And that made Massie a little afraid of him, in a good way. “I’ll need time to Photoshop them. I’m not sending anything unless we look ah-mazing.”
“Fine with me,” Claire agreed as she pulled the cowl-neck sweater over her head.
Kendra Block’s pinched voice bleated over the white intercom on Massie’s bedside table.
“Girls, we’re leaving for the club in five minutes,” she said.
“’Kay, Mom,” Massie yelled to the white box.
“I wonder what my dad’s big surprise is.” Claire smiled and bit her bottom lip. She leaned against Massie’s desk and slid on the teal boots. Her face looked like it was being swallowed by the wide cowl-neck as she looked down to zip them up. “I bet he wants to celebrate my first A ever in Spanish. Or maybe we’re finally trading in that Ford Taurus for a new car.”
Claire hobbled around Massie’s room, trying to get her balance in Massie’s heels. “Wait, I know—I bet they’re buying a ski house in Aspen right next to yours so we can go there together every Christmas. How awesome would that be?” The excitement made Claire lose her balance. She teetered for a few seconds and then fell face-first into the butt of the Bean mannequin, which then knocked over the Massie mannequin. They both came crashing down on top of Claire. In an instant she was buried under a tangle of spongy arms, legs, and paws.
“Ehmagod, are you okay?” Massie was glad Claire couldn’t see the smile that was fighting its way onto her face.
A muffled “ugggh” was all she heard back.
Massie started laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. Then tears welled up in her eyes. And before she knew it, her teeth were chattering and she was crying, for real.
Claire pulled herself out from under the heap of body parts. Her torso was shaking with laughter and her otherwise pale cheeks were flushed.
When she finally caught her breath, Claire looked at Massie with a trace of concern. “Are you crying? Because if anyone gets to cry, it should be me.” She rubbed her elbow.
“No.” Massie wiped her cheeks. “I just get teary when I laugh too hard.” It wasn’t entirely true, but it was a lot cooler than saying, “I am crying because you’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister and I hate that you have to leave.”
“Sorry about the mannequins. I don’t think they’re broken.” Claire pulled off the teal boots and slid on her camo high-tops.
While Claire laced up, Massie double-checked her own outfit. Her new True Religion jeans fit perfectly and the chocolate-brown tweed blazer with the velvet rope belt was perfect for the club. But it needed a little extra something. Massie climbed up on her desk and reached for the red corkboard on her ceiling. She plucked the green four-leaf clover brooch out of the cork and forced the pin through the thick tweed on her lapel. She needed all the luck she could get.
“Ow!” she yelped.
“What?”
“I pricked myself.” Massie watched a ruby red bead of blood ooze out onto her finger. She waved her left hand in the air to shake off the sting.
“Does it hurt?” Claire asked. “Do you need a Band-Aid?”
Massie sucked on her throbbing thumb, thinking about what lay ahead. “Nah, it’s nothing.” The rest of her night was going to hurt a lot more.
H
IGH
H
ILLS
C
OUNTRY
C
LUB
T
HE
V
ON
V
ISTA
D
INING
R
OOM
Saturday, January 24th 8:15
P.M.
Before Claire Lyons moved to Westchester, the closet she had ever come to a ritzy country club was the newly renovated Orlando YMCA.
Now she was standing under a massive glittery chandelier in the round foyer of the main dining room in the High Hills Country Club, surrounded by vases full of long-stemmed red roses. The rich, sweet smell of buttery steak sizzling in the kitchen was so mouthwatering, Claire knew her days of being impressed by the Y’s double cheeseburger were behind her forever.
A clean-shaven middle-aged man in a stiff tuxedo grabbed a stack of heavy red velvet menus off the hostess stand. “Right this way, Mr. Block.” He nodded, then led the two families through the crowded but quiet dining room.
Todd, Claire’s ten-year-old brother, was clinging to Massie’s side even more than usual, and Claire wondered why Massie was tolerating it. Usually she found a way to shake him. But tonight it actually seemed like they were in cahoots, exchanging knowing glances. For a minute Claire found herself wondering if Massie’s body had been possessed by a rare breed of aliens that appreciated redheaded brats.
“What’s going on with you two?” Claire asked. “Do I have a booger or something?” She wiped her hand across her nose.
“No, everything is fine,” said Massie. Her amber eyes weren’t flickering like they usually did.
“You sure?” Claire asked.
“Fully.” Massie opened her brown leather clutch and began searching it with a sense of urgency. But Claire knew Massie was really just looking for something to say. She just didn’t know why.
They snaked around the tables in an uncomfortable silence until they heard, “BRAAACK.”
It sounded like a duck’s quack, but it was Todd burping. Claire instantly forgot her suspicions and burst out laughing. Her parents, Jay and Judi, whipped their heads around and glared at their kids. Kendra and William Block kept their eyes fixed on the floor-to-ceiling windows across the room, like they hadn’t heard a thing.
“’Scuse me.” Todd shrugged.
Massie attempted to cover her smirk with her hand, but her shaking shoulders gave her away. Claire smiled. She loved it when Massie lost control, and wanted to see more. She started gulping air.
“HIGHHILLSCOUNTRYCLUUUUB,” Claire burped in Massie’s ear.
Massie let out a loud cackle that instantly overpowered the delicate clanking sounds of the club’s monogrammed silverware.
Todd high-fived his sister. “Ni-ice.”
“That’s enough!” Kendra hissed out of the side of her mouth. She pinched the ends of the fox collar on her blazer so that it hugged her long thin neck.
Claire looked at her own mother’s outfit and rolled her eyes. Judi’s thin black J.Crew V-necked sweater was covered in specks of white lint and random mousy brown hairs.
“I hope this table is suitable, Mr. Block.” The host gestured as he pulled a cushy blue velvet chair out for Kendra.
“It’s perfect, Nivens.” William straightened his gold tie. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, thanks, buddy,” Jay Lyons said. He was wearing a wrinkled blue dinner jacket with a plaid flannel shirt underneath. Claire couldn’t believe the two dads were actually friends.
Once everyone was seated around the table and their wines and Shirley Temples had been delivered, William raised his glass. Everyone followed.
“To my dear friends and neighbors.” He lifted his arm a little higher. “Now Jay, will you please tell us what this big surprise is? Kendra and I are so tired of guessing.”
Everyone chuckled except Massie. She was looking down at her lap, pushing back her cuticles with the yellow plastic sword that had come in her fruity mocktail. Claire wiggled forward in her seat. Was it going to be the house in Aspen or a new car?
“I don’t want to move to Chicago!” Todd screamed. His face was flushed and his big brown eyes were filling up with tears.
Massie’s head shot up and she punched the side of his arm.
“Massie!” Kendra gripped her silver butter knife and pressed it firmly against the table.
“Todd, what are you talking about?” Jay asked his son. But Claire didn’t like her father’s tone. It was laced with suspicion, not concern.
“I—hic!—know.” Todd started hiccupping and crying at the same time. “Hic! We’re moving to Ch—hic!—ago, and I don’t wanna g—hic!—oh.”
“Have you been eavesdropping again?” Judi snapped.
“Wait. Stop.” Claire held out her palm in an effort to slow things down so she could jump into the conversation. “What is he talking about?”
Her parents took deep breaths but never seemed to exhale. Kendra Block twisted her princess-cut Tiffany diamond ring around on her fourth finger. William unbuttoned his suit jacket, put his elbows on the table, and folded his hands. Claire could see his knuckles turning white. Massie was biting her bottom lip and buffing her French manicure.
Claire turned to face Massie. “Do you know what they’re talking about?”