Sealed with a Diss (12 page)

“So we’ll both be at riding camp,” Chris said, his breath warm against the back of her neck.

“Yup.” Massie pretended she was too mesmerized by his first-place gold cup to give the summer, or his soapy cologne, much thought. Romantic sunrise rides to Hunter Lake, trail-racing before lunch, and twilight grooming sessions with Tricky and Brownie were suddenly all Massie could think about. That, and Skye threatening to take away the room.

It was crucial she find the willpower to put her renewed mini-crush on pause, at least until Skye’s party was over and the key to the bomb shelter was securely fastened to her Coach chain.

“So.” Chris inched up beside her. He was starting to look like his old mischievous self again. His color was back, his eyes sparkled, and his movements were lively, like he’d spontaneously recovered from the flu.

“Did you hear about the wave pool they’re building on the roof of Briarwood?”

“Yeah.” Massie lifted his gold first-place hurdles award and examined it like a jewelry appraiser.

“Well, they start filling it on Wednesday. After school.”

“Really.” She placed the gold statue of the jumping horse back on the shelf.

“Yeah.” He paused. “They’re having a whole dedication ceremony.”

“Cool.” She touched his blue grooming ribbon. It was just as silky as hers.

“And if you’re gonna be there, maybe we can hang out,” he added. Massie let the ribbon fall from her fingers. “Um, of course I’ll be there.”

And she would.

For Skye. For the room. For the future of the Pretty Committee.

For anything but Chris.

CURRENT STATE OF THE UNION

O
CTAVIAN
C
OUNTRY
D
AY
S
CHOOL
T
HE
B
OMB
S
HELTER

Monday, April 26th

2:09
P.M.

“Will you puh-
lease
stop looking over your shoulder?” Massie unlocked the door to the bomb shelter. “You’re making me paranoid.”

“You
should
be paranoid.” Kristen shoved everyone through the dark doorway as if fighting her way into a crowded subway car. “If Mr. Myner catches us again—”

“If he catches us again, we’ll have to dump more compost.” Claire flicked on the industrial light switch by the floor. “Big deal. It’s worth it.”

“Point.” Alicia lifted her finger.

“S’cuse me?” Kristen squinted. “Aren’t you the one who said this was
wrong
?”

Claire blushed at the memory of herself preaching morality to the Pretty Committee. She knew her change of heart must come off as hypocritical. But that was
before
she knew Cam was keeping secrets. And if he could be immoral, so could she. Besides, at this point it was a matter of health. Thoughts of him lip-sharing gummies on a sunlit swim dock with Nikki or cloaking her in his beat-up leather jacket by the warm light of a crackling bonfire were keeping her up at night. In class, she was either dozing off or conjuring up more stomach-churning images of
her
Cam with a hotter, smarter, funnier camp crush. He was betraying her and making her look like a fool in front of his friends and
hers
, and the only way Claire knew how to even the score and uncover the truth was to betray him back.

Stepping over the DIY scraps of denim and rhinestones left behind by the DSL Daters, Claire quickly settled into a pink faux-fur director’s chair. She glared at the black monitor and willed it to go easy on her.

“Jalapeño and cheese, anyone?” Dylan grabbed a handful of popcorn from the movie-theater-style machine and dropped it in the hard-butterscotch-flavored snack bag. “Or should we go for something a little less Tex-Mex and more tropical, like, say, pineapple-coconut?”

“Ew.” Alicia casually slid a bottle of pink Hard Candy Pussy Cat polish in the side pocket of her sleeveless black Foley + Corinna corset dress. “Are you
trying
to blow up before bikini season?”

“My guys like a little junk in the trunk,” Dylan gleefully insisted while seasoning her popcorn. “And who am I to deny them?”

Alicia turned away from Dylan in mild disgust. “Hurry, Mass! What if one of the guys is confessing his love for me and we’re missing it?”

“
Desperate
much?” Kristen passed out a steaming round of freshly brewed Starbucks nonfat vanilla lattes.

“Puh-lease!
You’re
calling
me
desperate?” Alicia smoothed the stiff white collar that was peeking out the top of her sleeveless corset dress. “You’re the one wearing a black T-shirt with a skull on it.”

“And black nail polish,” Dylan added, taking a seat.

Alicia grinned. “Did your mom see your outfit this morning?”

Kristen shook her head no. “I wore gloves and a white cardigan to breakfast.”

“Did you have
deviled
eggs?” giggled Massie.

The girls cracked up.

“Did you eat them with a pitchfork?” asked Alicia as she climbed into her faux-fur chair. “Were they
sinfully
good?”

“Did you Grif-
fin-ish
them?” Dylan busted out.

Everyone doubled over laughing, except Claire, who was fixated on the monitor, waiting patiently for it to power up and put her mind at ease.

“This has nuh-thing to do with Griffin,” snapped Kristen as she sat. “I’ve always had a dark side.”

“Yeah,” Massie snickered. “Your roots!”

Kristen rolled her eyes and blew on her latte.

All of a sudden, the monitor hummed to life. A rush of sweat pooled under Claire’s underarms, releasing a sudden whiff of ocean-breeze-scented Sure.

A black-and-white shot of the classroom filled the screen. “We’re in!” announced Massie.

The Share Bear must have been hibernating on Dr. Loni’s desk, because all of the boys were visible in the horseshoe configuration of their seats, each one hunched over a composition journal, writing.

“Remember,” Massie announced, “no one leaves until they pick a date for Skye’s party.” The bell sleeves on her purple-and-white-knit Missoni dress brushed against her cuticles, which she had been nervously picking at all day.

Everyone leaned toward the screen, showing their eagerness to cooperate.

“Pens down,” Dr. Loni’s voice instructed from somewhere in the distance.

The girls leaned forward even more.

“I asked each of you to draw a map of your heart,” Dr. Loni continued. “And now, I’d like you to share those maps.”

The grilled-cheese-and-tomato sandwich Claire had for lunch started retracing its steps. Heartbreak barf was inevitable unless Cam somehow managed to prove that Nikki was his long-lost sister and “re-gifting” was code for “I love Claire.”

“Griffin, why don’t we start with you?” Dr. Loni walked the Share Bear to the seat by the window. A shaky image of a pale-skinned boy with spiked black hair, tight gray jeans, leather wrist cuffs, and a T-shirt with a 3-D rubber gargoyle clawing its way through the cotton rocked on-screen. He reached out and grabbed the Share Bear, fixing the shot on his sharp chin and full lips.

“Um, okay.” His voice was gravelly and low. “The four chambers of my heart are dedicated to: One, taking over the family business…”

Massie high-fived Kristen, who squealed with delight.

“Two, the pursuit of knowledge.”

“Ehmagawd!” Kristen air-clapped. “I
love
knowledge.”

“Three, Hades, my pet ferret.”

Kristen waved that one away like Celine Dion perfume.

“And the fourth chamber of my heart is dedicated to”—he reached below his desk and lifted out a worn paperback—“reading.”

“Ehmagawd!” everyone shrieked, except Claire, who couldn’t help feeling slightly jealous that everything with Kristen’s crush was going so perfectly.

“It’s like I invented him on
The Sims
.” Kristen fanned her flushed face.

“And what
are
you reading, might I ask?” twanged Dr. Loni.

“Good question.” Kristen ran her fingers along one of the bumpy pink crossbones on her shirt in anticipation.

“I bet it’s a manual on how to skin a puppy,” Dylan said.

“Ew.” Alicia giggle-winced.

“A little respect for Kristen’s crush, please,” Massie insisted.

It was totally not like her to defend a guy in skinny jeans, but his family owned a pizza empire, and Kristen seemed willing to make him her date, so it all made perfect sense.

“The
book,
Griffin,” Dr. Loni repeated with a little more emphasis.

Griffin lowered it. “You’ll laugh.”

“Wrong.” Dr. Loni clapped once for emphasis. “We’re inside the fortress of trust, remember?”

He surveyed the room. “Fine.” He exhaled. “It’s
The Notebook,
by Nicholas Sparks.”

Surprisingly, not one boy laughed.

“Ehmagawd, I loved that book!” Kristen gushed. “I bawled when I finished it. B-A-W-L-E-D, wept!”

“Yeah, but you’re a
girl
.” Dylan snickered.

Massie elbowed her in the ribs. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Do you want to tell us
why
this book speaks to you?” Dr. Loni pushed.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Griffin sounded defensive. “It’s a time-honored romance about love lost and found again.”

Claire listened for the inevitable snickers and jabs, but the boys were curiously silent.

Dr. Loni applauded. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” He paused and then lowered his voice. “Are you interested in continuing this journey, Griffin?”

“Say yes!” Kristen shouted like an overenthusiastic audience member on
The Price Is Right
.

“Continue!” Massie hollered.

“Do it!” Dylan bit off a chunk of her butterscotch-flavored popcorn bag.

Alicia and Claire giggled.

“Sure.” Griffin half-smiled. “I’ll continue.”

“Yes!” The girls cheer-clapped.

“Good.” Dr. Loni walked in front of the Share Bear. His portly torso filled the screen. All anyone could see was a big belly zipped inside a bright sweat-jacket.

“Move!” Kristen shouted, frantically waving her arms as if trying to clear a giant smoke cloud. But he didn’t. And the bear, which must have been on Griffin’s desk, facing forward, remained focused on Dr. Loni and his carb-locker.

“Now, son, why do you suppose a sensitive, kindhearted young man like yourself would want the world to think he’s an angry, aggressive member of the underworld?” He placed his fingertips together in prayer position.

A noisy jackhammer, obviously blasting its way through concrete, bleated through the room before Griffin could answer.

“Dang that wave pool,” snapped Dr. Loni. “I don’t see why they have to work on it during school hours! Those machines sound so hateful.” Once the short bursts stopped, he cleared his throat, then adjusted his tone. “Continue.”

“Maybe the way I dress is a mask.” Griffin tugged the bottom of his monster T-shirt. “You know, a way for me to hide my true self from the world so I can’t get hurt.”

“Awwwww,” cooed the girls.

“
Breakthrough!
” shouted Dr. Loni.

The boys clapped supportively.

“I can’t believe they’re not laughing at him!” Dylan blurted.

“Why would they?” Kristen rushed to Griffin’s defense.

“Well, it’s just that he sounds so…
sensitive
.”

“Sensitive is nice,” Claire mumbled to her puffy red cuticles, even though she also thought the absence of heckling was odd for a group of boys.

“He sounds perfect to me,” Massie insisted, clearly hoping Dylan’s comment wouldn’t change Kristen’s mind, since she was the only was who was certain about her HART.

“Don’t worry.” Kristen leaned across Claire, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “I’m all over him like tears on tissue.”

“Thank gawd.” Massie tapped a note into her PalmPilot.

“Congratulations, Griffin. How about you pass the Bear to Mr. Plovert.”

The camera wobbled again. It finally stopped moving and focused on Chris’s
YOU LOOKED BETTER ON MYSPACE
tee.

Dylan unwrapped a sour-apple-flavored Blow Pop and stuck it in her mouth. “Do you think he’ll talk about me again?”

No one bothered to answer.

“The four chambers in my heart are dedicated to my white beagle, Wingman; soccer; Kemp’s
Playboy
subscription; and—”

“Ew,” Dylan practically spat while the boys laughed.

“And my fourth chamber is for girls who don’t ask me what’s wrong all the time.”

The boys whooped and applauded in agreement.

“It’s so true,” bellowed a crackly voice from across the room. “Why do they do that?”

“It’s like they think we’re thinking something when we’re not,” Plovert continued. “When I’m quiet, it’s ’cause I’m relaxed. I’m not thinking
anything
. But when
they’re
quiet, they’re really thinking things.”

“True again!” the crackly voice chimed in again. “It’s like the opposite. Girls think we’re thinking things when we’re not, and we think they’re
not
thinking things when they
are
.”

“It’s all about open communication,” Dr. Loni interjected.

“I also like cool girls,” Plovert added.

“Hey.” Kemp punched Chris on the arm. “I was going to say
that
. You copied!”

“Define
cool
,” said Dr. Loni, ignoring the interruption.

“Girls who act like guys but
look
like girls. You know—they eat in public and laugh at dirty jokes instead of acting all grossed out by them.”

“That’s five chambers, Mr. Plovert, I only asked for four.”

“Ha!” Kemp punched Plovert again.

“Yay!” Dylan waved her Blow Pop like a lasso. “Yay. Yay! Double yay!”

“They
can’t
be serious.” Alicia shook her head in disbelief. “Anyway, how do you know they’re even talking about
you
?”