Sealed with a Diss (16 page)

“Lobster tail?” A redheaded mermaid in a green-glitter-covered spandex costume shoved her silver tray into the Pretty Committee’s tight circle.

“No thanks!” Alicia shouted toward Josh, who was now just a few feet away, snickering into his shrimp-filled hands with Derrington and Cam. “No food for me.”

Dylan pinched two lobster tails, baptized them in butter, and stuffed them both in her mouth. “What is invisible and smells like bananas?” She chewed, the tips of the tails slapping against her shiny lips.

The boys shrugged.

“Monkey farts!”

Kemp and Plovert cracked up. Massie, Alicia, and Kristen rolled their sparkle-dusted eyes in disgust.

Normally, Claire would have laughed along with the guys, but tonight she could barely fake a smile. Even her outfit—loose, faded Seven hand-me-downs and a plain red long-sleeved tee—said, “I’m too upset to care.” And Cam, who was joking around with his friends, totally oblivious to her pain, was making things worse. How could he be so happy-go-lucky when the pit in her stomach was reaching wave-pool depths? Could he not sense her angst from the terse IM responses she had sent him the last few nights? Not knowing what else to do, she spite-turned her back to him.

“Tonight’s the night,” Massie whisper-insisted. Her gold anchor drop earrings swung with conviction. “You guys better ask your crushes to the party tonight or—”

All of a sudden, Skye threw her arms around Massie and Alicia with fake affection. “Here are my little Cheetah Girls.” The DSL Daters stood behind her, tittering. “I’ve been looking for you all night.” She shimmered in the formfitting seaweed green sequined mini she’s worn to her spring dance recital. Her messy updo was randomly adorned with gleaming starfish and sea horse clips. “Are you all set with your dates?”

“Yup,” Massie answered a little too quickly. “All set.”

Alicia, Kristen, Dylan, and Claire nodded like bobble-heads.

Skye leaned in to Massie’s ear. “Any updates on you-know-who?”

“It’s all under control.” She wink-nodded.

“Promise?” Skye rubbed the gold locket across her glossy mouth. “Because he’d be the perfect Brad, especially with that incredible new haircut. And everyone says I have lips like Angie’s, so—”

“Sounds great,” Massie managed.

“It will be. My costume is all set. I’m just missing one thing.”

“Not for long.” Massie beamed.

And just like that, Chris and his new Zac Efron hair managed to squeeze through the thickening crowd. He was wearing a crisp blue pair of Diesels, a brown henley, and a Levi’s jean jacket. His confident swagger proved he knew how good he looked.

“Hey, you.” Skye quickly ran her fingers through his highlights.

Claire couldn’t help noticing her confidence and hoped that after a year of ESP access, she’d be just as bold.

“Hey, Skye.” Chris took a slow sip of his seltzer.

“How have you been feeling lately?” She pouted sympathetically.

“Great.” He winked at Massie.

She giggled, then casually unzipped her navy cashmere hoodie, revealing a tight white Stella McCartney tee with a metallic-gold horse decal across the center. Its boxy bottom barely touched her narrow hips, revealing a sliver of flat abs before the top of her gray knit leggings kicked in.

Claire exchanged glances with the Pretty Committee, silently asking if something was going on between Massie and Chris that she didn’t know about. They shrugged, indicating they were just as baffled as she was.

“Feel like celebrating?” Skye tilted her head toward her shoulder and batted her green-mascara-covered lashes.

“Maybe,” Chris answered with playful curiosity.

Obviously grateful for this live demonstration of Flirting for Dummies, the Pretty Committee stared, shamelessly shoving anyone aside who threatened their view.

“Well, I have just the thing.” Skye inched toward him.

“Really?” Chris pulled the blue straw out of his seltzer and stuck it in his mouth.

Skye pulled the straw out from between his teeth and tapped it against her Angie lips. “Yup.”

Chris blushed.

Massie stepped back to give them space. Or was she feeling left out? Claire had no idea, since, as always, the alpha’s expression gave nothing away. Her amber eyes were fixed and steady—not angry or sad or happy. Just blank, quietly observing and absorbing. Was she jealous? Relieved that her plan was working? Or crushed that Skye had captivated Chris with so little effort. It was impossible to tell.

“I’m having an exclusive end-of-the-year party,” Skye continued, steadying herself against the flow of party traffic.

“I know. I heard some of the guys talking about it.”

“I bet you did.” Skye stuck the straw back in his mouth. Chris stared into her eyes.

Massie half-smiled. Her plan was working and she seemed relieved. If jealousy was an issue, she was hiding it like an unsightly panty line.

But before any deals were sealed, a teenage boy’s voice crackled through the band’s speakers and hijacked the moment.

“Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention, please?”

“It’s starting,” squealed the DSL Dater with the Swiss Miss braids. “Let’s move closer to the surfers.”

Skye leaned into the Pretty Committee’s tight circle. “I’m going to leave. It’s more alluring.”

“But—” Massie tried.

“But nothing. Close the deal for me.”

“But—”

“Tick… tick… tick…” was all Skye said before a pack of boy-crazy blondes tugged her toward the front of the crowd.

Derrington, Josh, and Cam hovered around the Pretty Committee’s closed circle like the rings of Saturn, probably envying Chris Abeley, Plovert, and Kemp, all of whom had somehow scored a place inside. Part of Claire wanted to grab Cam’s leather-clad arm, drag him closer to her side, and inhale his Drakkar Noir. The other part wanted to chuck a bottle of sea-foam-flavored seltzer in his face. But all she could do was circle the anger cul-de-sac and continue avoiding him until she happened upon a way out.

“So are
you
going to her party?” Chris pushed up the sleeves of his brown henley.

“Given.” Massie flicked the gold zipper on her navy cashmere cardigan.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been in the mood for a party.” Chris looked straight at her. “But thanks to you, I’m starting to feel ready again.”

“Cool.” Massie turned to the podium as if she didn’t want to miss a single word of the dedication. She knew it would have been the perfect time to promote Skye, but her gloss was fading. And without its shiny protective shield, she felt vulnerable. Pretending to cough, she turned her head to the side and applied an emergency coat of Sugar Cookie Glossip Girl.
Now
she was ready to close.

“Well, I’m gonna go up front with my buddies. Let’s talk later.” Chris smile-winked, then forced his way through the audience.

Massie was about to reach out to stop him when Derrington crept up behind her and covered her eyes.

“Guess who?” he asked in a little girl’s voice.

“Let go.” Massie pulled his palms off her face. She unstuck her lashes, then searched for Chris. But he was gone.

“What’s up with
her
highlights?” Derrington laughed so hard he snorted.

Cam and Josh cracked up and high-fived him.

Claire rolled her eyes. Was Cam always this immature?

“I’m moving up front,” Massie announced. “Alicia, you’re in charge. Make sure the mission is accomplished by the time I get back.”

“Maybe you should stay,” Claire heard herself say.

“Why?” Alicia adjusted the wide brocade collar on her short-sleeved ivory peacoat. “You don’t think I can handle being in charge?” Claire’s heart quickened. “It’s not that. It’s just that…”

She side-glanced at Cam, who was still whooping it up with the boys. He seemed like a total stranger—a typical boy instead of the loyal sweetheart she’d thought he was—and Claire had no idea how to approach him. Or if she even wanted to.

“She’s right,” Kristen chimed in. “We could use some support.” She tilted her head toward Griffin, who was wearing black skinny jeans and a baggy white tee with a picture of a bloody headless Barbie doll on the front. He was leaning against a speaker in the far corner of the roof that was twice his height.

“What’s wrong with
me
?” whined Alicia.

“Do
you
know what I should say to Griffin?”

Alicia looked to the back of the room and studied the aloof death-metal maniac. “Point.”

She gripped Massie’s wrist. “Maybe you
should
stay.”

“I can’t.” Massie wiggled free. “You don’t understand. I have to find
Chris
.” She mouthed his name so Derrington wouldn’t hear, leading Claire to wonder if she had something to hide.

The bleached-blond beach stud at the podium tapped the microphone and demanded attention. His short-sleeved green-and-beige madras shirt was completely unbuttoned, exposing his well-defined chest, peanut-butter-colored tan, and rugged tangle of shark-tooth necklaces nestled between his collarbones.

“Good luck.” Massie waved and then took off into the crowd.

“Hey. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Dune Baxter, and after five years of surfing the epic North Shore of Hawaii, I’ll be spending the summer on this roof, as an instructor at the Briarwood Surf Camp, or B.S. Camp, as I like to call it.”

The DSL Daters screamed in approval.

He snickered with fake modesty until they stopped.

“But this is not about me. It’s about your new wave pool—” The crowd cut him off with applause. “Which your parents are probably paying tons of money for so you country-club punks can learn how to ride.”

He ran a hand through his beachy, top-heavy hair while the crowd applauded again.

Cam gently shoulder-squeezed his way past Kristen and Alicia so he could stand beside Claire. A powerful magnetic force drew her closer to him (chemistry?), but she managed to resist its pull and stand firm.

“I kinda wish I was staying here this summer.” He rested his elbow on her shoulder.

Claire turned and looked into his eyes for the first time all night. Had she been wrong about him and Nikki? Was this all just one big misunderstanding? Was Cam Fisher the same sweet guy she’d always thought he was? Hopefully. But she needed to be certain before letting down her guard.

“
Why
do you want to stay here?” She crossed her fingers for luck.

“So I can learn to surf,” he answered, as if it should have been obvious.

“Seriously?” A combination of anger and pain welled up inside Claire. She clenched her fists, but the emotions managed to escape anyway.

“So, you’d give up camp for
surfing
but not
me
?”

Cam panic-blinked, and Claire instantly regretted her outburst. Would he write about it in his journal? Tell the guys in ESP? Laugh about it with Nikki? She shook the thoughts from her head, but they wouldn’t leave.

“What are you
talking
about?” Cam removed his elbow from her shoulder and shoved his hands deep into the side pockets of his jeans.

Unsure of what to say next, Claire bit her bottom lip and focused on Dune. Cam did the same. It was the first time she’d ever played the role of the “needy girlfriend,” and she could tell by his silence he was just as shocked by her response as she was.

“Here to start the flow of water that will fill Briarwood Academy’s brand-new epic rooftop wave pool is none other than five-time world surfing champ Brice Baxter.”

Flashbulbs flashed and the crowd cheered as Brice, a larger, tanner, toner version of his son, appeared from behind the podium. He hiked up his loose gold board shorts and ambled over to the silver faucet at the head of the pool. Hand on the round dial, he lifted his head and smiled with pride for a round of pictures. Then he struggle-turned, an obvious excuse to flex his bulging muscles. Water vomited forth from the nozzle. The crowd cheered and the band of penguins struck up a jazzy version of “Singin’ in the Rain”.

“It’s time,” Alicia informed the girls.

Claire felt a stab of panic in her chest. How could she ask Cam to be her date
now
?

Luckily, Dylan made the first move. She lifted her arms like a phoenix rising from the ashes and wrapped them around Kemp and Plovert’s shoulders. “Do you guys want to escort me to Skye Hamilton’s costume party Saturday night?”

“Both of us?” Kemp adjusted his orange-and-gray Kangol, which had been accidentally knocked out of place by a passing mermaid.

“As dates?” Plovert removed his glasses and cleaned them with the bottom of his navy-and-yellow plaid button-down.

“Yeah.”

“I’m in.” Kemp grabbed Dylan’s hand, then immediately let go.

“Me too.” Plovert put his glasses back on.

“Done and done.” Dylan winked at Alicia, then pushed through the thick crowd and steered her boyfriends toward the sorbet table by the band.

“Did that just happen?” Josh asked Cam.

Cam shrugged, his green eye and his blue eye still fixed forward.

“Ehmagawd,” Alicia interrupted. “Did you know we’re, like, wearing the same white Polo again?”

“What do you mean,
again
?” asked Josh.

“Um…” Alicia blushed when she realized she had accidentally hinted at the secret Share Bear camera. “I mean, again and again I am amazed that we are wearing the same shirt.”

“Mine is for boys.” Josh was quick to defend himself.

“I love making people do chores for me,” Alicia blurted, obviously desperate for a new angle.

Josh took off his New York Yankees cap. “Same here!” He peeked over his shoulder, then lowered his voice to a paranoid whisper. “Same here.”

“Really?” Alicia squinted, like she couldn’t believe the coincidence. “That’s so weird.”

“Ehmagawd,” Kristen interrupted by slapping Josh’s arm. “Do you know that guy?” She pointed at the giant speaker in the corner behind them.

He turned. “You mean Griffin?”

Kristen nodded, never taking her eyes off her black-haired, pale-skinned crush.

“Yeah, he’s in my—” Josh caught himself. “He’s in one of my classes.”

“Can you introduce me?”