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Authors: Lisi Harrison

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BOOK: A Tale of Two Pretties
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While Len began talking about his latest trial, Alicia fished her phone out of her Twelfth St. by Cynthia Vincent studded
bag and checked to see if Massie had written her back. She’d texted the alpha when she’d arrived at The 21 Club with a 911
about whether her outfit was the right call. Massie had yet to respond.

Alicia thumbed through the rest of her inbox as talk of tort reform built around her. A message from Hermia, a name she hadn’t
seen in ages, stood out.

New Year, New Guidance!
said the subject line. In the body of the message, surrounded by stars and moons, was text that read:
Let your celestial guru guide you on your journey into the new year with an e-reading. Limited-time cost of $75.

Ever since she’d met the psychic at Merri-Lee’s New Year’s Yves party a few years ago, Alicia had been on Hermia’s mailing
list. Normally she would
ew
-schew psychics, but Hermia did predict the forming of the Pretty Committee. She even knew Claire would join them long before
she moved to Westchester. If that wasn’t worthy of an e-mail subscription, what was?

After a quick glance around the table and another perfunctory laugh, Alicia slouched in her velvet seat so that her hands—and
her phone—were hidden under the white tablecloth. She connected to Hermia’s site and scheduled an e-reading for ay-sap. It
wasn’t curiosity that drove her to withdraw seventy-five dollars from her PayPal account. It was boredom. A trip to the future
was her only way out.

A chat box with an image of Hermia’s serious gray eyes and grandma-white hair popped up.

You’ve done a good deal of traveling this year, Alicia. I see that it’s taught you some valuable life lessons.

Alicia rolled her eyes. Dealing with her Spanish cousins and winning a spot in an ¡i! video last summer had only reinforced
what she already knew: that she was hawt.

You are very good with physicality and movement. If you are not a dancer, become one,
Hermia typed.

It didn’t take a psychic to know she was the best student at the prestigious Body Alive Dance Studio.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Alicia typed back.

An animated icon of Hermia began spinning.
Please wait while I decipher my vision of your future.

Alicia returned to the present, where the conversation was still more
Law & Order
than Alice + Olivia.

Alicia, your prediction for the New Year is…

She held her breath.

You are going to rise up and become the leader of your group. Don’t be afraid. It’s time.

Ehma
-huh? A shiver ran down Alicia’s spine. What did
that
mean?

She thumbed a frustrated “????” to Hermia, but the psychic’s icon had a bright red bar flashing diagonally across it.
You can hear more for another $75
.

Alicia was about to accept the terms and conditions when Nadia’s Caliente Coral–clad fingers wrapped around Alicia’s wrist
like the Elizabeth and James tusk-link bracelet she had her eye on.

“Put the phone away,” Nadia smile-demanded, making sure
the other guests never lost sight of her Rembrandt-enhanced teeth.

Alicia felt like her tongue had swollen to twice its normal size. She gathered up her shiny black hair and tried to discreetly
fan the back of her neck, but Hermia’s words were screaming on repeat in her head.
You’re going to become the leader… leader… leader…

“Denise, David,” Nadia called across the table to Len’s colleagues, “Did you know my daughter is an expert arguer? Perhaps
we have a future lawyer on our hands!” They nodded and looked interested, but when it came to their conversation, Alicia felt
like Angie and Brad. She just couldn’t engage.

Instead, she tried to decipher what Hermia meant by leader of the group—maybe she meant
dance
group? But Alicia had been the leader of that ever since Skye Hamilton left for Alpha Academy.

Alicia fanned her pits. Past Alicia would have ah-dored a prediction like this. She spent so much of her life competing with
Massie for alpha status. But Present Alicia didn’t want it anymore. And she was pretty certain Future Alicia wouldn’t either.

She shuddered, thinking back to when she had created the SoulM8s, OCD’s first ever girl-boy clique, after the Pretty Committee
had disbanded. It had been so much work being alpha—organizing, planning, brainstorming, and making sure everyone else was
happy and having fun. It was
nawt
Alicia’s idea of a good time. And it had almost cost her everything. No, Alicia hearted being Massie’s beta.
It gave her all the prestige and none of the headaches.

If Hermia had been right about anything, it was that Alicia had learned a lot of valuable life lessons this year. The most
valuable of all being: She would never be a social alpha again. No matter what some psychic thought her future held.

“If you don’t tell me where were going, I’ll never change my underwear again,” Todd Lyons said.

“Any excuse to stay in those lucky Buzz Lightyear briefs,” teased Judi Lyons from the front seat of the family Ford Taurus.

“But Mommmm,” he whined, kicking the back of her seat.

“Patience, son,” Jay admonished from behind the wheel. “We’re almost there.”

Claire tried to tune out her younger brother by savoring the chocolaty taste of love inside every one of her C&Cs—she’d rationed
a small bag to take on the drive. While Todd continued to beg for clues, Claire inhaled the sugar-coated plastic smell of
her candy pouch to mask the stench of the Old Spice body spray Todd had received in his Christmas stocking. It didn’t work.
She cracked the window, hoping a sliver of cold wind would suck out the fumes. But they had embedded themselves in the tan
upholstery and held on tight. Mold Spice would have been a more accurate name.

Ping!

Claire checked her text messages.

Massie:
Officially changing the name of this hell-i-day to ChristMISS because it sooo missed being fun. Can I crash at your house?
I’m about to start carb-loading for warmth.

Claire:
Sure. It’s ur house

Massie:
Thx. Gonna start packing.

Claire wrinkled her brow.
Packing? For one night?

Massie:
BTW where R U?

Claire:
No clue.

Claire giggled as the Taurus made a sharp turn down a familiar block. Her father pulled the car over to the side of the road,
and her mother turned around with a giddy gleam in her eye.

“Hey! This is Layne’s street!” Claire said.

Todd bounced up and down in his seat. “Is this it? Are we getting our surprise here?”

Judi dangled two sleep masks in front of them. “Not just yet. You have to put these on first!”

“No way! They say most kidnappings are done by the parents!” Todd exclaimed.

“That’s a chance you’ll just have to take,” Judi said, sliding the mask over her son’s red hair.

“Did Layne put you up to this?” Claire asked, lowering the cold black silk over her eyes.

“Nope. Now zip it,” Jay said, putting on his blinker and
easing back into the street. Claire felt like Jenna from
Pretty Little Liars
: She couldn’t see a thing.

“I think we’re going to get shot,” Todd whispered.

“If anyone shoots you, it’s gonna be me,” Claire whispered back.

The Taurus slowed to a stop.

“No peeking,” Judi warned, helping her children out of the car. Claire stepped onto a patch of frozen grass, her Target boots
making a crunching noise. Though the sun was bright, it wasn’t enough to counter the icy wind that whipped through her hair
and bit her earlobes. Shivering, she wished she had on Todd’s puffy jacket instead of the thin white satin–lined peacoat Massie
handed down to Claire.

Claire tried to get her bearings. It sounded like kids were playing nearby. Someone was starting their car. A bike bell rang.
Smells like wood burning fireplaces and Christmas turkey swirled around her. Claire inhaled them straight to her stomach.
Scents and sounds like those, unless they were coming directly from the Blocks’ house, didn’t exist in the Blocks’ neighborhood—the
houses were too far apart. Her insides suddenly warmed.

Judi gripped Claire’s shoulders and angled her left. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Claire said, having absolutely no idea what to expect. She hadn’t asked for anything special this Christmas.

“Surprise!” her parents shouted at the same time.

Claire and Todd removed their sleep masks.

Huh?

She was looking at a regular house. It was two stories with yellow siding and deep, country red doors and shutters. A two-car
garage sat off to the right. The small front yard was covered in snow, but the tops of bushes stood proudly underneath the
front windows. It wasn’t big; it wasn’t wrapped in blinking lights; and unless Claire was mistaken, it didn’t belong to Mark
Salling from
Glee
, and he wasn’t inviting her over for a sing-along. So what was the big deal? Todd looked from one parent to the next, then
settled on Claire with an expression of utter incomprehension.

“Surprise! It’s our new house!” Judi and Jay said simultaneously, their faces bright with excitement, or maybe just the cold.
“Merry Christmas!”

Shutthefrontdoor!


Seriously?
” Claire screamed like she had just met a Jonas brother and then threw her arms around her parents.

“Can we go in?” Todd asked, racing up the three steps to the porch.

“Not yet. We take possession Thursday,” Jay explained. “Wait until you see the basement, though. There’s enough room for a
pool table
and
air hockey.”

“What about a wrestling ring?” Todd jumped up and down in the snow. His jeans sagged, revealing the green elastic band of
his lucky undies. Claire made a silent apology for doubting the briefs’ powers. Who knew? Maybe they had something to do with
this.

Claire couldn’t help it; she screamed again. Their own house! Their own
adorable
house. On the same street as Layne! Close enough for Claire to ride her bike to OCD and the high school! A place where they
could finally hang the “Lyons Live Here” sign that had been collecting dust in a still-unpacked box since they moved! A house
that belonged to the Lyonses, instead of the Blocks.

The Blocks.

Claire’s stomach jumped to its death as she thought about leaving Massie. Living in the guest house made her part of the PC.
What was going to happen when Claire didn’t live within
text-me-and-I’ll-be-there-in-sixty-seconds
distance from her alpha? Would she still be invited to Friday night sleepovers? Could she still be a GLU if she was also
a PASTE (Previously Allowed Someone who was Then Exiled)? And what about Massie? How could Claire abandon her on this hell-i-day?

Todd was already claiming the cluster of trees by the side yard so he and Tiny Nathan could build a fort. Jay and Judi were
talking about a porch swing. Claire had never seen everyone in her family so happy at the same time. She wished she could
bottle up that cheer and then give it to Massie like it was a Vitamin Water Zero.

Because like it or not, Claire and the Lyons family were moving out of the guest house and into the new house—and soon. Claire
bit her lip and reached for another C&C, only to find her stash was gone.

Along with any hope that Massie could count on Claire.

Kristen stood shivering under a gray sky, surrounded by red-and-navy-clad all-stars. Inhaling the sharp biting air, she buried
her fingers in the cuffs of her new red-and-navy Soccer Sisters windbreaker and braced herself for some rooftop drills. She,
with some major help from her mom, had volunteered to host the Soccer Sisters’ “Cleat & Greet” party that afternoon. But she
hadn’t been able to swallow a single pizza roll. Her insides seized up the minute they realized the strongest players in Westchester
County were packed in her teeny living room.

BOOK: A Tale of Two Pretties
11.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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