Alicia lifted the tray so it covered her chest. “Ew, Gawd forbid.”
Massie tugged on her crimped hair, wishing she hadn’t picked the first party of the year to experiment. Not that anyone was even noticing.
“Where’s Olivia?” Claire asked.
“She has mono.” Alicia looked down at the markers on her tray.
“Boob job,” Massie coughed.
Everyone laughed except Alicia. She rolled her eyes, raised her tiny nose toward the stained-glass ceiling, and kept it there until the laughter died. Massie still couldn’t understand why her best friend liked Faux-livia so much, but she knew better than to ask. Ever since Alicia had tried to start her own clique, Massie had been extra careful not to do anything that might push her away again. She couldn’t stand the thought of wasting another semester fighting with her friends, especially when there were so many losers to pick on.
“Have you guys seen the new Briarwood boy yet?” Alicia whispered. “He is ah-dorable.”
“Am I a vampire?” Massie asked.
“Huh?” Alicia asked.
“Then why are you keeping me in the dark?” Massie asked. “Details, please.”
“His name is Josh Hotz. He’s a ‘transfer student’ from Hotchkiss.” Alicia made air quotes when she said “transfer student.” She leaned in closer and continued. “But I heard he got expelled for pulling the fire alarm before a major test.”
A dark-haired boy in a New York Yankees hat and a navy blue blazer pushed his way through the crowd, carrying a ginger ale with a cherry floating on the top and a shrimp kebab.
“Stop, drop, and roll. He’s on the move.” Alicia handed her silver tray to Dylan and turned to leave. “Don’t wait up for me.”
“Where are you going?” Dylan squealed. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“They’re name tags,” Alicia called over her shoulder. “Get everyone to fill them out before Nina makes her entrance.”
Massie watched Alicia follow Josh through the crowd, wishing she had the guts to approach Derrington.
Dylan started filling out the H
OLA
,
MY NAME IS
____ stickers for her friends and stuck them to their clothes. She was about to put one on Claire’s pink silk cami when Massie grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t,” Massie said. “I don’t want you to get glue on my new top.”
“I had a feeling she was wearing a Massie.” Dylan nodded. “No offense, Claire, but I had a hard time imagining you buying a Trina Turk. I actually assumed it was an H&M knockoff.”
“Massie said I could borrow it.” Claire didn’t sound the least bit offended.
Kristen put her hands on her hips and turned to face Massie. “I thought you said anything that needs to be washed in Woolite is OL.”
“What’s ‘OL’?” Claire asked.
“It means
off limits
,” Kristen barked. “But I guess you wouldn’t know, since it ahb-viously doesn’t apply to you.”
“And isn’t that your handbag?” Dylan pointed at the pink metallic YSL ruffle purse dangling from Claire’s wrist.
“Yeah,” Massie said to her silver-polished thumbnail. “So?”
“So? So you said you don’t lend out anything from this year’s YSL line,” Dylan snapped.
“Well, it’s a new year.” Massie looked directly into Dylan’s emerald green eyes, making it clear that the conversation was over. She realized this probably wasn’t the best time to tell her friends that Claire would be sharing her bedroom. They were acting a little jealous, and she didn’t want to rub it in their faces. Besides, they’d have to get used to their friendship . . . eventually.
“Seafood egg rolls?” a waitress asked as she held a tray of fried appetizers in front of the girls.
“How about we trade?” Dylan took the platter and handed the name tags to the waitress. “Please make sure everyone gets one.” She turned her back toward the girl and popped an egg roll in her mouth. “Anyone else want?” Dylan asked while she chewed.
“Sure.” Claire reached forward and dunked an egg roll in the plum sauce dish. As she brought it to her mouth, a glob of brown sauce fell on Massie’s silk cami.
“Thank Gawd for Woolite.” Kristen smirked.
“I am so sorry.” Claire’s cheeks turned red and her bright blue eyes suddenly looked navy. “I’ll save up my allowance and buy you another one. I promise.” She grabbed a handful of gold cocktail napkins off the tray and started wiping the brown stain right above her left boob.
“It’s okay.” Massie’s heart was pounding so quickly, she imagined it bursting out of her chest and beating against Claire until she was facedown on the ground begging for mercy. “I’ll get some seltzer. . . .”
“Try this.” A mysterious hand entered their circle. It was waving a bag of red cinnamon hearts in one hand and a wet white napkin in the other.
“Cam!” A big smile warmed Claire’s face.
Massie caught a whiff of the familiar mix of Drakkar Noir and grape Big League Chew that was Cam Fisher. As usual, he was wearing his brother’s old leather jacket, but tonight, instead of a tattered white tee underneath, Cam was wearing his Briarwood Tomahawks soccer jersey. He held out a tumbler-sized glass of water for Claire while she dipped the napkin and dabbed the stain.
“Hey,” Derrington mumbled, “I heard there was a wet T-shirt contest going on over here.” His caramel brown eyes flickered with mischief.
Massie felt her cheeks burn and faced Claire to avoid Derrington’s gaze. But the instant he turned toward his perma-tanned friend Chris Plovert, who for some reason was on crutches, Massie checked him out.
Derrington looked good. His hair was perfectly grown out. Two more weeks and he’d need a trim, but right now his dirty blond strands sat right on top of his dark lashes in a very sloppy-chic sort of way. Unfortunately, he still hadn’t gotten over the whole shorts-in-the-winter thing, but his knees didn’t look as knobby as they had before the holidays. He must have put on muscle at skate camp. And as far as Massie could tell, they were still the exact same height.
“Well, aren’t you going to ask me about skate camp?” he asked Massie.
She twirled the diamond stud in her ear and cocked her head to the side. Massie thought she looked much better at an angle than she did head-on.
“Actually, I was going to ask you why you guys are wearing soccer jerseys to a black-tie-optional party. But if you’d rather start with skate camp, that’s fine.”
Derrington lowered his head and smiled at his shirt. He looked up at Massie as though he were peering out over the tops of a pair of sunglasses. “It’s for good luck. Kind of an old superstition. All we have to do is beat Grayson Academy next week and we’re in the finals, which would be so cool, because for the last ten years . . .”
Massie had no idea what Derrington was talking about. Nor did she care. But she nodded her head and squinted, so he’d think she was absolutely riveted. But all she could think about was the puddle of sweat that was forming above her lip. Was it rude to apply a fresh coat of gloss while someone was talking to her? Would he think she was gross if she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand? Was it grosser to let the sweat just sit there? Ugh! Life was so much easier when she was crush-free.
“And we’re gonna win.” Derrington jumped and turned at the same time, so his butt was facing the inside of their circle. Then he shook it and slapped it a few times. Chris, Cam, Claire, Kristen, and Dylan all cracked up. Massie rolled her eyes and playfully pushed him out of the circle. “Grow up.”
“Oh, please. You love my butt,” Derrington teased.
“Yeah, right.” Massie instantly hated herself for not coming up with a better comeback. Why did the battery in her brain always seem to die when Derrington was around?
“I hope you’ll be there on Friday cheering us on. You can be my good luck charm.” Derrington grinned.
Massie instantly tuned back into the conversation. “Of course I’ll be there. I
love
soccer.”
“Good.” Derrington’s smile was so sincere, Massie couldn’t help smiling too. The twinkle in his light brown eyes made her feel fairly confident that he hadn’t met another girl at skate camp. But just to make sure . . .
“Was your skate camp co-ed?” she asked. “Kristen was thinking of going next year, but I told her I thought it was boys only, right, Kristen?”
Massie widened her amber eyes so Kristen would know to play along.
“Uh, right.” Kristen adjusted her fedora. It was obvious to Massie she had no idea what she was agreeing to.
“Sorry, it’s boys only,” Derrington said. “But Kristen, if you wear that hat, they might let you in.”
“Very funny.” She rolled her eyes. “By the way, you suck as goalie this year. Maybe you should spend a little less time skating and a little more time practicing.”
Plovert and Cam laughed at Kristen’s jab. Massie joined them, even though she had no idea what goalies had to do in order to “suck.”
“What are you laughing at, Plovert?” Derrington shook his head. “You broke your ankle the minute we got there.”
“Yeah, and I bet I’m still better in the net than you are.”
Everyone laughed except Massie. She hoped they were only joking. It was one thing to be associated with a guy who wore shorts in January if he was a star athlete. But if he really did suck, everyone would think he was a loser. And that would make her an even bigger loser for hanging out with him. Massie closed her eyes and said a quick prayer for the Tomahawks. It was crucial for her reputation that they win Friday’s game.
“Please, no one is better than this guy.” Todd pushed his way into their circle and put his arm around Derrington.
“Todd, what are you doing?” Claire asked. It was obvious from her tone that she wanted him to leave.
“I thought I’d come and say hi to my new roomie.” Todd released Derrington and winked at Massie. His little friend, Tiny Nathan, covered his mouth with his miniature hand and giggled. “Now that we live together, I feel like it’s my duty to keep an eye on you.”
“What is he tawking about?” Kristen asked Massie. “Why is he your new roomie?”
“You live together?” Derrington asked. Unfortunately, he didn’t sound jealous, just surprised.
Massie wanted to shove the heels of her Jimmy Choo slides up Todd’s freckly nose. This was worse than the time she’d caught him eavesdropping on her sleepover. The last thing she wanted to do at this party was fight with her jealous friends about their new living situation.
“Didn’t you hear?” Todd asked Kristen. “We’re living—”
“Yes, Todd, everyone knows you live in our guesthouse. And in a minute, they are all going to know that you talk to your—”
“Let’s go, Nathan.” Todd grabbed his friend’s skinny wrist and pulled him into the crowd. “I’ve got a thing for that hottie over by the vegetable platters.”
Massie was doing her best to avoid Claire’s eyes, knowing she was probably wondering why their living situation had to remain a secret.
“Can I have your attention, please?” Alicia’s mother, Nadia, shouted from the top of the staircase. Massie breathed a sigh of relief when Claire turned away to listen to the announcement. Crisis averted.
Nadia was wearing a dark brown strapless paisley dress and a ridiculously huge necklace made of peacock feathers. Her black hair was wrapped in a tight bun on top of her head and tied with a gold scarf. Even though she hadn’t modeled in fifteen years, Nadia looked like she could have walked straight off the runway and into her house. Once again, she asked for attention. Finally, the music stopped and the chatter in the room was reduced to a loud murmur, then silence.
“My husband, Len, and I would like to welcome you all to our home.” Her Spanish accent was thick, and Massie had to strain to understand what she was saying. “You know we are always looking for an excuse to get together with friends.” A few of the parents started cheering, and Nadia responded with a gracious smile. “And tonight’s excuse is a very beautiful one named Nina.”
Applause.
Massie searched the room, looking for the guest of honor, but there were no signs of her yet. Nadia was probably trying to build her up because she was such a dork.
“My niece has come all the way from Spain to spend the semester with us. So please raise your glasses and help me welcome Nina Callas to Westchester.
“
Cumplimentar
, Nina!” Nadia toasted.
“
Cumplimentar
, Nina!” the guests toasted back.
A tall, thin girl came out of one of the bedrooms and glided to the top of the stairs. She stood perfectly still, giving the guests a chance to drink her in. She tilted her hips, stuck out her long, thin left leg and let her tanned bare arms dangle by her tiny waist.
There had to be some kind of mistake! This couldn’t have been the same busted-up girl Massie had seen in Alicia’s vacation photos. Could it? Her black strapless minidress barely covered the label on her underwear. And unfortunately, it looked kind of hot.
“Easy, Gisele,” Dylan muttered to no one in particular. “The Victoria’s Secret fashion show isn’t until November.”
Massie laughed louder than she meant to.
“Mee-oww!” Chris Plovert gave a playful smile.
“Yeah, right.” Dylan shook her head. “Like I’d ever be jealous of
her
. Her boots aren’t even made of real leather.”
Nina tilted her long, graceful neck toward the crowd to show off her wide smile and perfectly symmetrical face. A sexy mess of brown wavy hair brushed against her smooth bare back as she turned to show off her perfect profile. She flashed a toothy Julia Roberts smile, then wrapped her elegant fingers around the banister and stepped down onto the marble steps. The bottoms of her high-heeled metallic blue ankle boots sounded like tap shoes as she gracefully made her way toward the main floor. Whistles and whoops filled the air. The people loved her.
Once Nina was finally on the ground floor, she was surrounded by overfriendly admirers doling out handshakes and hugs.
“Gorgeous boots,” one of the mothers gushed.
Massie squeezed her eyes shut. She hoped that when she opened them, she’d see the same gawky girl in Alicia’s holiday pictures; the one with the unibrow, who wore oversized tie-dyed tank tops and thick white hair bands. But a sultry Spanish beauty with perfect hair had taken her place.