My Little Phony - 13 (20 page)

Anger washed over Claire, from the roots of her blond hair down to the tips of her lime green Keds. Her revolution was fading faster than a fake tan, right before her eyes.

But as the sweats-wearing seventh-graders put in special orders for overalls, the anger turned into a tidal wave of
sadness. Not because the Sweat Girls were choosing Massie… but because Claire couldn’t.

No matter how many bugs they put in Massie’s bed, or whether she’d had a truly humiliating lip kiss, or was kicked out of her house or separated from all her possessions, Massie had the ability to rise from the ashes, to take a pair of overused, gross denims and turn them into something beautiful.

And it was inspiring.

As soon as she reached OCD’s double doors, Massie air-kissed her friends good bye so she wouldn’t give them Landon’s cold. It was microscopic, DNA-level proof that she’d finally conquered her fear of lip-kissing an older guy. And it was all hers. She’d sneeze every day of her life if it meant getting to kiss her crush.

She got into the Range Rover. Ordinarily Isaac would have given them all rides to their own houses, or they’d be coming to Massie’s, but not today. Today was special.

“Issac, do you think it’s possible to wear every single thing I own all at once?” Massie asked.

Issac shook his head. “I think it’s possible to try.”

Staring out the tinted window, Massie happily replayed the events of the past day and a half in her head—starting with the kiss, followed by a designer session with Inez, who’d promised to help her mass-produce her overalls, and a full eight hours of LBR re-education.

She’d managed to reclaim the school by first period, an impressive feat, even for an alpha. Her mind pulled up an image of Claire and Layne huddled by their lockers, Claire’s light blue eyes looking as dull as the mashed potatoes the new café had served. Her shoulders had been slumped, and her boyfriend jeans had an ink stain on them.

Massie had never seen Claire look so defeated. Unstylish, yes, but Massie had always (secretly) admired her former friend’s resilience. She’d done what no other girl at OCD had: gone from LBR to Pretty Committee. And if Massie was being hawnest, Claire was the only person who’d ever successfully stood up to her.

Massie’s stomach flipped. It felt a lot like sadness. But maybe it was just a reaction to the seaweed salad she’d eaten at lunch.

A few minutes later, Issac turned onto Massie’s road and pulled up the crashed gravel, semi-circular driveway.

“Ehma-amazing!!!”

It felt like the heavens had opened and Gawd herself was smiling down on Massie and her home. Gone was the red-and-blue tent around her beautiful stone estate. It was the first time she’d seen her house in days. The stately columns glowed pure white in the early afternoon sun. The gleaming windows winked their hellos. And the flagstone front path was snow-free—and more important, fumigation truck free.

The crazy circus had finally ended. She was home. Finally.

She skipped into the living room, where her parents were waiting on the white linen couch.

“Thank Gawd you’re back!” Massie said. “You won’t believe what I had to endure while you were gone. I couldn’t use any of my credit cards! They were all declined. Can we sue?” Massie expected their jaws to drop in horror and shame for what they’d put her through. She expected a barrage of
apologies and promises to give her the black diamond bangles from her Christmas list early, just to make up for it. But her parents just stared at her. And not in a good way.

Her mom’s amber eyes were red. And she could have sworn her dad had at least three more gray hairs than when he’d left.

“You don’t look tan,” Massie said, suddenly. “Why don’t you look tan? Or rested?”

Kendra shot her husband a worried look.

He clenched his square jaw. “Do you want to start?” he said quietly to his wife.

“Why don’t you go, dear?” Kendra whispered back.

William pulled up his black Armani pant leg and crossed his legs. Then he rolled up the cuff of his green pinstriped button-down. Massie recognized the motions. He’d gone through the same routine that summer when he’d fired their gardener for forgetting to put the sprinklers on timer. “We have something to tell you, Massie,” he said.

Kendra patted the cushion on the couch next to her. “Maybe you should sit down.”

Massie felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. “Ehmgawd,” she said, scratching a sudden itch that had popped up on her leg. “Did you find more bugs?”

Her mom let out a fake, high-pitched laugh, the one she used on William’s business partners when they tried to be funny but weren’t.

“We lied to you,” Kendra said.

“Lied?” Massie echoed. Her tongue felt thick.

“We weren’t really in the Bahamas. We were at the Hamptons house, getting it ready for sale.”

SALE?

“What?” Massie grabbed the cushion below her like it was a floatation device and she was in the middle of an emergency landing. “But you love that house!” The Blocks spent every summer there. Her mother had gone through four different designers to make sure every last crystal sconce and eighteenth-century-style molding was correct.

“The market has taken a dip,” Kendra said. Her forehead creased with concern. Massie had never seen Kendra’s forehead move at all, let alone crease.

Massie’s heart started hammering in her chest. “Are you going to buy a different house, then? A smaller one?”

“No,” William said simply.

Kendra reached out and patted Massie’s hand. “Everyone’s lost money recently, honey. It’s affected the whole world.”

Massie’s entire body felt cold. She stared at her father. “Like, how much money?” Her own voice sounded hollow, even to her own ears.

Her father smiled at Massie, but his eyebrows crinkled the way they did when he was worried. The room was completely silent.

Suddenly, there came a crazy, high-pitched, dog whistle–toned scream. Massie reached her hands up to plug her ears. And then she realized that she was the one screaming. She slapped her hand over her mouth and forced herself to swallow her scream. It settled into a hard ball in her stomach.

They were kidding. Of course they were kidding. They had to be kidding. This was some sort of elaborate ruse they’d concocted on the plane back to New York. A little
welcome home
joke before they presented their beloved daughter with her own brand-new yacht. She just had to calm down.

Fire breath in…

Fire breath out…

Fire breath in…

Fire breath out…

Fire breath out…

“Well, then,” Kendra said finally. She cleared her throat. “We’re going to have to make a few changes around here.”

“Wait. Wait a second. You’re serious?” Massie said.

Kendra nodded.

“Like, we’re not going to be able to put the tennis courts in this summer? What about Andre? Will he give you lessons only twice a week now?” Massie felt a small, carat-sized tear wobble in the corner of her eye.

Kendra pressed her lips together. “I’m not really that into tennis right now.”

“Not into tennis?” Massie screamed. “Am I going to have to wait to get my new Louis Vuitton bags? And what about my allowance?”

Kendra said, “Well, not right now…”

“Little changes will go a long way,” her father said, trying to sound cheerful. “We’ll bounce back. Eventually…”

Massie’s breath came in short, rapid bursts. Her heart panged dangerously, and she could almost swear there was a
tingling in her left arm.
Is this what it feels like to have a heart attack?
“When is ‘eventually’?” she managed to ask.

“We don’t know that just yet,” Kendra said. But the way she said it gave Massie the sinking feeling that her mom
did
know. Or at least she had some idea. But she wasn’t telling.

Which meant it was even worse than Massie thought.

Massie sank down to the floor as the reality of what they were saying sank in. She pulled her knees to her chest, with no regard for how much it was wrinkling her Massie-alls. She stared at the plush carpet in shock. One by one a parade of horrible questions marched into her brain: Would the carpet have to go? Would Inez? Then another, horrible thought hit her. Would
Isaac
have to go? And what would she tell Landon? And, ehmagawd, what would she tell the PC? How could she be their alpha if she couldn’t even afford a latte at Starbucks?

“Listen, sweetie.” Kendra knelt down so she was face-to-face with Massie. “We will overcome this.” She squeezed Massie’s hand and tried to smile. But she couldn’t quite do it.

With that, the one-carat tear that had been wobbling in Massie’s eye finally worked its way down her cheek. Massie could see it glittering out of the corner of her eye. It was followed by another—and another.

Massie realized it was probably the only sparkle she’d see this Christmas.

“You doing okay, honey?” Judi Lyons asked, patting Claire on the shoulder. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Claire nodded, stunned by what her parents had just told her. One minute she’d been G-chatting online with Cam, and the next minute her parents had come into her room with these looks on their faces and said the Blocks were having financial trouble. They were about to go through a very hard time. Big changes were coming.

“Chin up, kiddo. We’re Lyonses,” Jay Lyons said, pushing himself off Claire’s bed. “And what do Lyons do?”

“We roar,” Claire mumbled, hugging her stuffed giraffe to her chest.

“That’s right,” Mr. Lyons nodded.

“We’re going to be okay, Claire Bear, I promise.” Her mom kissed her on the forehead, then shuffled out of the room behind her husband.

But it wasn’t
her
family Claire was worried about.

It was Massie.

Suddenly it felt like the past month was nothing but an ugly drawing on an Etch A Sketch that her parents had just shaken, erasing all the hurt and anger and fighting. All that remained was the fact that Massie’s life was about to change.
This was about more than head shaving or clothing or where people sat in the cafeteria. It was about the fact that Massie would be devastated.

In a certain way, money wasn’t all that important. Claire knew that. But having your worst nightmare come true was. So Claire did what you do when a friend is in trouble: She put aside her petty grievances and decided to try and cheer up Massie.

Grabbing a bag of gummies off her desk and the
Gossip Girl
DVD set out of her CD locker, she put on her coat, told her parents she’d be back soon, and padded slowly across the icy lawn.

Inside the Block mansion, things were surprisingly still and calm. The plush rugs were still plush, and the freshly waxed floors were still freshly waxed. The display of orchids still emitted their subtle exotic scent from the marble mail table. But even though it all looked the same, Claire knew that everything had changed.

She walked up the stairs. A thin sliver of cool light escaped from under Massie’s door. “Massie?” she called, softly.

There was no answer.

“Massie?” Claire called again.

Still no answer.

After a minute of waiting and a quick bang swipe, Claire pushed the door open slowly and tiptoed inside.

Massie was on her bed, beneath her down duvet, hugging piles of clothes. She was crying softly, her legs making a tent around Bean, who had her nose buried in her paws.

“It’s me. I heard,” Claire said.

The lump on the bed didn’t move, but Massie’s tear-soaked voice rose from the pile of down. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to see if you were okay.” Claire walked over to the bed and put her hand on Massie’s knee.

Massie didn’t move from her pretzel pose. “I’m doing just great. Ah-bviously.”

“I’m so, so sorry Massie.” Claire sat gently on the side of the bed. “I’m so, so sorry that this happened to you and your family. It really totally and completely sucks. It just does. But you guys are going to be okay, I know that. And the bright side is that you don’t need money to be happy. I mean, look at me and my family. We don’t have a lot of money, but we’re happy. Your family will be just like that.”

Massie sniffled, but she didn’t look up.

“I brought you this,” Claire held up her bag. “It’s
Gossip Girl
season two. And…” She pulled a small bag of gummies out of her pocket. “Gummy crabs from my emergency stash.”

“You brought these… for me?” Massie sat up a little, wiping her mascara-stained cheeks.

“The gummies, yeah. The DVD I found under the couch,” Claire admitted. “You must have left it there at some point.”