Invasion of the Boy Snatchers (7 page)

“Of course, cousin,” Nina assured her. “I will be just fine here with your leetle friends.”

“Who are you calling leetle?” Massie snapped.

“If the bra fits . . .” Nina half smiled.

Kristen and Dylan giggled. Massie swallowed a big gulp of air to keep herself from breaking New Year’s resolution number seven on the first day of school.

“Don’t worry about me, Alicia, I’ll be fine.
Buena suerta.
”

“Thanks.” Alicia’s cell phone rang as she was turning to leave. She checked her Tiffany watch, sighed, then answered. “
Hola?
I mean, hello?”

Massie rolled her eyes.

“Uh,
hola
, Celia.” Alicia crinkled her thick dark eyebrows and looked at Nina. “It’s your sister,” she mouthed.

Nina waved her hand in the air frantically. “Not here,” she mouthed back.

“She’s calling from Spain.” Alicia’s expression was urgent.

“I’ll call her back,” Nina whispered loudly. “When I’m not at school.”

Alicia covered the phone with her hand and whispered to her friends, “You should see her sister’s wardrobe: it’s beyond! They’re always in style magazines in Spain and people are always stopping them—”

“Cousin!” Nina snapped. “Just get rid of her.”

Alicia relayed the message to Celia and snapped her phone shut.

“Gracias.” Relief washed over Nina’s face. “I don’t have time to give her advice about boys right now.
Dios
, she can be so needy.”

Massie nervously twirled her charm bracelet around her thin wrist. How did Nina know so much about boys? Did she ever get nervous when she talked to someone she liked? Would she know how to act around Derrington?

“I’m off to the broadcast booth.” Alicia waved. “See you next period.”

They watched Alicia weave her way through the clusters of girls gathered around the Virgins kiosk. Once she was out of sight, Massie, Kristen, and Dylan turned and stared at Nina. She stared back at them.

“What?” Nina finally said.

The high-pitched wail of microphone feedback cut through the Café, and everyone covered their ears.

“Sorry,” Sage apologized softly into the mic. “It gives me great pleasure to welcome you to OCD’s first alcohol-free cocktail kiosk.” She cut the red ribbon around the cash register with her giant scissors, and everyone clapped and woo-hooed.

“Welcome to Virgins!” Sage shouted into the microphone.

Nina looked over her shoulder. Gaggles of giddy girls were bumping into her as they jumped and cheered like they were at an Usher concert. She shook her head as if to say, “What a shame.”

“Is this place really called Vir-
gins
?” she gasped.

Massie nodded.

“Well, then, I shouldn’t be here, that’s for sure.”

Massie gasped out loud by accident then felt her entire body stiffen out of embarrassment. Now Nina would think she was a prude.

Dylan and Kristen’s mouths hung open in shock, but there was also a twinkle of admiration in their eyes, like they were actually impressed.

“Uh, Nina, do you work at 411?” Massie asked.

Kristen and Dylan giggled in anticipation of Massie’s next line.

“Huh?” Nina squinted like someone who was having trouble hearing.

“’Cause that was way too much information!”

But deep down inside, Massie was starving for more.

O
CTAVIAN
C
OUNTRY
D
AY
S
CHOOL
T
HE
C
AFÉ

Monday, January 26th 12:38
P.M.

Claire and Layne Abeley were standing at the back of the Virgins line, waiting to place their juice orders. As soon as the cheering died down, Layne turned to Claire and picked up the conversation where they had left off, just before Sage cut the ribbon.

“So why do you think Cam wants to try and kiss you?” Layne stuffed a handful of jalapeño-flavored soy nuts in her mouth, then wiped her salty fingers on her bright yellow Shirley Temple sweatshirt. A green seasoning skid mark was streaked across Shirley’s cute little pug nose.

Claire absentmindedly brushed the salt away. “Because he gave me a mix CD at Alicia’s party last night and”—Claire pulled the CD out of her red JanSport backpack—“look at the playlist.”

Layne grabbed the CD out of Claire’s hand and started reading the names of the songs out loud. “‘Do You Love Me,’ by Kiss; ‘I Want You,’ by Kiss; ‘I Kissed a Girl,’ by Jill Sobule; ‘Kiss,’ by Prince . . .”

“Shhhhh.” Claire knocked Layne in the arm and looked around the Café to make sure no one was listening. “Silent reading,
please
.” She watched Layne’s narrow green eyes move back and forth across the jewel case while she scanned the rest of the list.

“I’ve never even heard of these songs,” Layne whispered. “Are you sure he didn’t steal this from his grandfather?” She was never one to hide her feelings.

Claire rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t Layne just be happy for her? “He gets a lot of music from his older brother, Harris,” Claire whispered back. “But that’s not the point!”

“Sorry.” Layne bent down and pulled up her pink socks so that they covered her thick kneecaps. The socks didn’t match her yellow ruffled miniskirt and sweatshirt or her orange-and-blue-checked Vans, but that was what made Layne Layne. And Claire had decided a long time ago to accept her for who she was. After all, Layne had accepted Claire back when no one else would, and that was something Claire would never forget. “So
you
want to kiss
him
?” Layne twisted her newly hennaed jet black hair into a messy ball and clipped it with a pink glittery banana clip.

Claire nodded without a moment of hesitation. Then she popped one of Cam’s red cinnamon hearts in her mouth and tried her hardest not to chew it. It was a game she had been playing with herself all morning: if she could suck the candy until it disappeared, she and Cam would kiss at the dance. If she bit it, they wouldn’t.

“Is that slutty of me?” she asked.

“No, I think it’s romantic.” Layne gently placed her hand on her heart and made a swooning face.

Claire giggled and turned bright red. “Okay, can we change the subject, please?”

“Sure,” Meena said as she and Heather broke into their conversation. “I have a new subject.” She pulled a pair of black-and-red-striped leg warmers off her arms and stuffed them in the outside pocket of her Hello Kitty wheelie suitcase. “So, are you really going to be sharing a bedroom with Massie Block?”

“Yeah, are you?” Heather asked.

Their blunt bob haircuts had been dyed the same color as Layne’s, and Heather had cut super-short bangs. Claire thought they looked like comic book characters.

Meena and Heather were Layne’s best friends and the only other girls at OCD who shared Layne’s eccentric style and addiction to protests.

“I think we know her well enough now to stop using her last name.” Claire tried to hide her excitement. But it was hard. She loved that people were starting to find out that she and Massie were friends. It did more for her status than the latest Marc Jacobs bag ever could.

“Okay, then is
Massie
really your real friend this time?” Meena pressed. “Or is she just using you again to get something she wants?”

“No, it’s real this time.” Claire still had a hard time believing it herself.

“Hmmm,” Layne said.

“Does this mean you get to borrow her clothes?” Heather adjusted her makeshift belt, which was really a cute stuffed snake that she’d won at Coney Island when she was four. It was so bulky, she was having a hard time keeping it tied around her tiny waist.

“I’ve already borrowed a ton of her stuff.” Claire could feel the proud smile spreading across her face.

“What?” Layne asked.

“Unfortunately, I stained two of her sweaters.”

Layne chuckled. “I heard she doesn’t have a washing machine—she just throws her dirty clothes out and buys new ones.”

“The entire Block estate is built on landfill made up of Massie’s dirty clothes.” Claire giggled

Layne started laughing, and Claire felt a wave of guilt.

“I’m just kidding. Massie’s totally normal.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Layne rolled her eyes. “You’ve become a total Massie-chist.”

Meena and Heather giggled.

“I have not.” Claire felt her throat lock. Why was everyone having such a hard time accepting that she and Massie actually liked each other? Claire searched her mind for a new topic, but she was too flustered to think of anything. Luckily, her cell phone started ringing.

“Hullo?” Claire answered her phone. “Oh, hey—” She was about to say Massie’s name but stopped herself. “Really? That’s TFFW. We must have walked right past you. . . . We’d love to cut. . . . Be right there . . . .”

“Uh, what’s ‘TFFW’?”

“‘Too funny for words.’”

“Ah,” Layne said. “I’m not taking Massie as a Second Language until next semester.”

“Very funny.” Claire pulled Layne out of the line and led her to the front. “Let’s go—Massie said we could cut.”

“No, thanks.” Meena shook her head. “I’d rather wait back here, with the people.”

“Yeah, power to the people.” Heather shot her fist in the air.

“Well, we’re going.” Claire tugged on Layne’s arm.

“Someone needs to protect her,” Layne shouted to her friends.

“Whatever.” Heather chuckled.

“Traitor,” Meena yelled with a semi-smile.

Claire was relieved that they had only been teasing. Meena and Heather were so much easier to deal with than Massie’s Pretty Committee. They got jealous of each other’s CD collections, not each other’s friends.

“Hey, no cutting,” a few people shouted as they marched past. But Claire kept her eyes fixed forward and ignored them all. She would be with Massie in a few seconds and then they’d be safe.

“Look, Kristen,” Nina pointed out when Claire and Layne arrived. “You’re not the only one with bad hair. This girl’s bangs are way too long.”

Claire stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Claire.”

Nina reached out and shook it hard. “See, Massie, this girl knows how to shake a hand.”

Massie put her hands on her hips and opened her mouth to say something, but Claire cut her off.

“Do you really think my bangs are long?”

“
Sí,
” Nina said.

Claire felt everyone’s eyes on her. “
Yes!
” she shouted. “I’ve been trying to grow them out for months.”

“I think you should trim them a leetle bit instead. Boys love when they rest just on the tips of your eyelashes. It says, ‘Stay by my side. I can’t see with all this hair in my eyes and I may need your help crossing the road.’ And guys love when girls are helpless.”

“
What?
” Massie snapped. “Claire, let me take you to Jakkob after school. He’s ah-mazing with layers.”

“I would love to,” Claire whispered softly. She couldn’t help wondering if there was any truth to Nina’s theory. “As long as he doesn’t scalp me. Cam hates short hair on girls. He says it makes them look—”

Claire felt Massie’s thumb poke the side of her ribs and immediately stopped talking. Everyone was glaring at her while Kristen adjusted her pink rain hat. Claire felt a rush of intense heat all over her body, like she had been instantly sunburned.

Nina started laughing.

“Uh, I didn’t mean it like that Kristen,” Claire said. “I just meant—”

“It’s okay.” Kristen looked down at the cold concrete floor.

“By the way, Kristen, I love your hat.” Layne smiled. “I would totally wear that.”

“Great,” Kristen said under her breath.

Suddenly, frantic newscast music blasted through the PA system in the Café, rescuing everyone from the awkward conversation.

“What is that?” Dylan screeched.

The music faded out and the
click-clack
ing sound of fingers typing on a keyboard remained.

“It sounds like hail.” Kristen covered her ears.

“Good thing you have that hat.” Massie rolled her eyes.

Kristen stuck out her tongue.

“I’m kidding!”

Finally, Alicia spoke.

What’s up, OCD? I’m Alicia Rivera, kicking off the New Year with a very exciting newscast
. . . .

Everyone applauded. Claire could even hear muffled cheers coming from the halls. Alicia must have heard it all the way from the audio booth, because she paused, waiting for the applause to die down.

Claire remembered when Comma Dee used to do the OCD news. She would tell corny jokes and rap the headlines. The entire school would cringe with embarrassment. But the girls in the Café seems to like Alicia’s straightforward six-o’clock news delivery, because everyone had turned to face the speakers, anxious for her to continue.

If you’ve been anywhere near the Café today you know that Virgins is open for business. Congratulations, Sage!

More applause. Sage bowed graciously with her hands in prayer position.

“Easy, Buddha.” Massie muttered under her breath.

Today’s special juice cocktail is the all-natural fruit-and-soy-based Low-Fat Lover in honor of the upcoming Valentine’s Day dance!!!!

The Café exploded with excitement. Napkins were thrown in the air and a few empty fat-free fro yo containers were chucked into the crowd. Alicia quickly changed her tone, as if she could sense the disruption.

Who’s ready for the details?

(Cheers)

Alicia giggled to herself like a TV anchorwoman would after bantering with the wannabe-funny weather guy. Claire pictured Alicia sitting at her desk, nervously shuffling her papers, waiting for the right moment to get back to business.

This year’s theme is Love Struck. One week from Friday, all the OCD girls will meet at the Briarwood Academy soccer field after the big playoff game to pick dates. But there’s a catch . . . literally. The guys will be dressed in Velcro suits, and you will each get five Velcro-tipped arrows. All you have to do is shoot the guy you like and he’s all yours. If you don’t catch anyone, you have to wait to be asked, unless of course you—giggle!—want to go alone. And as always, the most ah-dorable couple gets the Cupid Award. So I suggest you eat a lot of lean protein Thursday night, wear comfortable shoes, and run like panty-hose. Don’t let your dream guy get away. . . .