Revenge of the Wannabes (10 page)
“So are you in?” Massie asked when she had finished.
Claire thought about it.
“Well?” Massie pressed.
Claire nodded, deciding a little guilt was better than making Massie angry.
“Good.”
Massie lifted the olive green rotary phone off the dark wood night table and handed it to Claire. “This is so heavy, I don’t know how Grammy used to lift it.”
“I know, my arm gets stiff after one phone call,” Claire said, trying to lighten the mood.
“You
have
to get a cell phone.”
“Four more years,” Claire said, remembering her parents’ rule.
“Brutal,” Massie responded as she flipped open her cell phone, pulled up a number, and hit Send. She hit Speaker Phone before anyone answered.
“Can you hear it ringing?” Massie whispered.
Claire nodded.
Massie covered the mouthpiece. “We’ll probably have to leave a message because it’s late—”
“Lucinda Hill’s office,” a voice answered.
Claire gasped and Massie raised a finger to her lips.
“Sorry,” Claire mouthed. She dug into her back pocket and popped a yellow sour in her mouth.
“Uh, yeah, uh, is Lucinda Hill there, please?”
“Who’s speaking?”
Massie stood up and started pacing. “It’s Ma—It’s Alicia Rivera and Olivia Ryan.”
“Hold.”
“Hey, gorgeous, make my day and tell me you got permission to do the holiday shoot,” a different voice then said. Claire assumed it was Lucinda.
“Mmmm, not yet,” Massie replied.
Claire sat perfectly still on the edge of the bed, trying not to make a sound. She didn’t want to miss a single word.
“That’s not why I’m calling.” Massie faced the window, reminding Claire of a high-powered executive on an important business call.
“What, then?” Lucinda sounded annoyed.
“I have a confession to make and I can’t handle the guilt anymore.”
“Yup,” Lucida said, hurrying her along.
“Olivia and I cheated during the OCD Fashion Week Uniform Contest. We didn’t really win. Massie Block and Claire Lyons did. We switched the ballot boxes because we’re such losers and we’ve never won anything before and we were desperate.”
Claire’s mouth hung wide open. “Nice,” she mouthed enthusiastically, giving Massie a thumbs-up.
Massie returned the gesture and Claire felt a surge of warmth rush through her entire body. They were a team.
The two girls looked at each other, their eyes wide open, wondering what Lucinda would say next. Would she sue Alicia and Olivia for fraud? Would she call all the newspapers and expose their lies? Would she blacklist Alicia from every store in Manhattan?
“And …” Lucinda said.
“And what?” Massie said. “How are you going to punish us?”
“I’m not a priest,” she said. “I don’t care if you cheated.”
Claire raised her eyebrows in shock.
Massie opened her mouth to speak, but Lucinda cut her off.
“All I care about is that you stay gorgeous. Gain a pound between now and the shoot and I’ll take a Town Car straight to Winnchester and kick your butt.”
“Uh, okay,” Massie said.
“Now what?” Claire mouthed.
Massie shrugged and Claire could hear Lucinda’s fingers clacking away on a keyboard in the background.
When the typing stopped, Lucinda said, “Alicia, you still there?”
“Uh, yeah, bad connection, sorry,” Massie said.
“When can you get me those pictures of your friends?”
“Huh?”
Lucinda sighed. “I need pictures of your pretty-in-a-real-sort-of-way friends because we’re still looking for four more models.”
Massie mouthed, “Yes!” and Claire got so excited, she jumped up on her bed. But the phone cord was so short, she had to sit back down to continue listening.
“Oh, right,” Massie said. “Sorry, I forgot. I’m a total airhead.”
Claire covered her mouth to conceal her laughter.
“What’s your e-mail address? I’ll have my friend Massie send those to you right now. She’s gorgeous; you’ll love her.”
As soon as Massie hung up the phone, she hopped on Claire’s bed and started jumping. “We are
totally
going to crash Alicia’s modeling party.”
Claire put the green phone on the floor and started jumping too. They bounced and giggled and held on to each other to keep from falling.
“I have to stop,” Massie panted. She fell onto the bed, rolled off, and stood up. Her hair was a tangled mess and her cheeks were flushed. “Can I take one of these?” Massie asked. She was pointing to the row of pictures on the wall.
Claire’s knees buckled. She stopped jumping and folded her arms across her chest. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t. I just want to scan a picture of you so I can send it to Lucinda,” Massie said.
“Oh,” Claire said. “Cool.” She jumped off the bed and landed on the floor with a thud. “Let me get you a better one.”
Claire pulled a shoe box out of her closet, tore off the lid, and quickly flipped through a stack of pictures. She couldn’t believe Massie thought she was pretty enough to model. Her hands shook with excitement.
“Here, send this one.” Claire held out a shot of herself sitting on the hood of a red convertible. She was hugging her knees to her chest and smiling brightly. Her legs were golden brown and her blond overgrown bangs were falling in her eyes. It was her favorite picture.
“Thanks,” Massie said. “I have some good ones of me, Kristen, and Dylan back in my room. I’ll go send them now.”
“Good luck,” Claire said.
“Bye!” Massie called, slamming the door behind her.
The minute Claire was alone, she went straight for her computer and read Cam’s latest e-mail one more time …
C,
U COMING TO MY SOCCER GAME 2MORROW? IF U DO, LOOK UNDER SEAT #27. THERE WILL B A SWEET SURPRISE WAITING THERE 4 U. OH, THANKS FOR SENDING THAT PICTURE OF YOUR TOE. … AND NO, I DON’T THINK IT LOOKS LIKE A FAT MAN’S THUMB.
–C
Claire wasted no time writing back.
C,
I’LL BE IN SEAT #27. BTW–THNX FOR THE SOURS. I 8 THEM ALL.
–C
Claire was bursting to tell Cam she and Massie were going to be models but held off. She wasn’t quite ready to stop accepting his sugary candy.
4:25
PM
November 15th
The glare from the stadium lights blinded Alicia and kept her from seeing Briarwood score the winning goal. But she heard all about it from the announcer.
“The Tomahawks kick butt once again thanks to their star forward, Derrick Harrington,” a man’s voice bellowed through the speaker towers. Everyone jumped to their feet and waved their orange-and-blue flags. Alicia and Faux-livia waved their pink knit mittens.
“Whoo-hoo!” Derrick shouted. His teammates lifted him up and carried him toward the bleachers. They rubbed his shaggy blond hair and sprayed him with Evian water. When they put him on the ground, Derrick turned his back to the crowd and pulled down his shorts. They cheered and hollered while he stuck out his tiny white butt and wiggled it back and forth.
“That makes standing out here in the freezing cold almost worth it,” Alicia said, putting her mitten back on her hand.
“I don’t care how immature everyone says he is—
I
think he’s cute,” Faux-livia said.
“He
could
be if he stopped wearing shorts all the time.” Alicia sat down on the cold metal bleachers. “I’ve never seen him in long pants. Not even at dances. His knees are
purple
from the cold.”
Faux-livia sat down and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her red puffy coat.
“He reminds me of my old yellow Lab, Smash,” Faux-livia said. “I think it’s the brown eyes and the blond hair. …”
“Probably.” Alicia never asked Olivia to clarify. It usually just confused her more. Besides, Derrick was walking up the cement steps and she didn’t want to miss her chance to greet the star player.
Alicia crouched down, pretending to pick something off the ground, and swiped a quick coat of light pink gloss across her lips. “Nice game!” she called out when she resurfaced.
“Yeah, you were so
on
today, Derrington,” Faux-livia shouted.
Alicia quickly elbowed her in the ribs.
“Ow,” Faux-livia said.
“You’re lucky you’re wearing that coat or it really would have hurt,” Alicia whispered.
“Why’d ya elbow me?”
“He doesn’t
know
we call him
Derrington,
” Alicia said through her teeth. “When you’re talking to him, use his
real
name.”
“Sorry.” Faux-livia rubbed her side. “I thought he’d think it was funny how we blended his first and last name together.”
Alicia knew Faux was right. But Massie made up Derrington, and Alicia didn’t want Olivia to get credit for it. Of course she could have lied and said the nickname was her idea, but Massie would find out. She always did.
“Yes!” Alicia murmured when Derrington and three of his teammates stopped in front of their seats. “You guys were sooo Beckham-y today.” She tilted her head and smiled sweetly.
“Thanks, Alicia,” Chris Plovert said as he lifted a bottle of Gatorade to his mouth. A line of blue juice dribbled down his chin.
“Hey, Alicia, look,” Danny Robbins said, pointing at Chris’s face. “He likes you so much he’s drooling.”
Chris punched Danny’s lanky arm, then used the sleeve of his team jersey to wipe it away. “You’re the one who’s always looking for her in the stands,” he said.
“It’s your older sister I’m looking for,” Danny said, flashing a mouthful of silver braces.
The two boys started giggling and punching each other. A few other guys on the team heard them joking around and forced their way into the tight circle.
Alicia was enjoying the rush of confidence that always came from so much boy attention. That, combined with her recent experience at
Teen Vogue,
made her feel unstoppable. She scanned the bleachers to make sure Massie, Claire, Dylan, and Kristen were still there. They were. And they were looking straight at her.
Perfect!
“Relax, boys, you’re too old for her,” Derrington mumbled. He put his sweaty arm around Alicia.
“The eighth grade is so
not
too old for me.” Alicia wiggled to free herself from his grip. She ran her fingers along the inside of her pink knit cap and casually loosened a few strands of black hair. She knew they’d look sexy blowing around her face.
“What about the eleventh grade?” Harris Fisher asked.
Alicia reached into her bag and peeled off a
yes
sticker. She pressed it against the sleeve of his leather jacket.
“We love eleventh graders.” Faux-livia’s navy blue eyes stayed fixed on Harris.
The boys giggled and punched each other all over again.
Cam rolled his two different-colored eyes. “Ignore him. He’s a complete stranger.”
Alicia smiled and looked down at the gray cement. There wasn’t a girl at OCD who hadn’t heard of Harris Fisher. He was Cam’s
hot
older brother. He had
two
gorgeous green eyes, whereas Cam only had the one.
“What about Massie? Does she like older guys too?” Derrington asked.
Alicia pretended she didn’t hear Derrington’s question and quickly changed the subject.
“You better be nice to us because we may not be around for much longer,” Alicia said. She casually unbuttoned her gray coat so they could see the Dixon she was wearing around the top of her jeans.
“Why, where are you going?” Derrington mumbled, not noticing that her butt was wrapped in black mesh.
“Yeah, where are you going?” Faux-livia asked. Her eyes were wide with panic.
Alicia squeezed Faux-livia’s hand. “We got a modeling contract with
Teen Vogue
and they might want us to drop out of school and move to Manhattan.” She tried to sound blasé.
“Really?” Derrington sat down on the bleacher beside Alicia and put his arm around her. “Did Massie get one too?”
“
What
is your obsession?” Alicia snapped. “This has
nothing
to do with Massie.”
“Sorry.” Derrington jumped to his feet. “I just thought because you’re such good friends—”
“Well, you thought wrong.” Alicia folded her arms across her chest.
“She
is
pretty enough to be a model,” Cam chimed in.
Harris followed his brother’s gaze down five rows of bleachers and straight to Massie Block. She was surrounded by a group of girls who were taking turns holding her black pug. Both Massie and the dog wore white scarves and fluffy earmuffs. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold. She looked like a beautiful snow angel under the hazy glow of the stadium lights.
“I second that,” Harris said. “She could definitely model.”
“Hey, Alicia,” Faux-livia said. “You should send Lucinda Massie’s picture. Didn’t she say she was looking for more—”
Alicia stepped on Faux-livia’s toe with the heel of her boot.
“Ow!” Faux-livia screeched.
“You guys are freaks.” Cam shook his head. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his beat-up leather jacket. “I’ll be right back.”
