The Clique (10 page)
“I insist,” Kendra said. “And Massie insists. Come by at 7:30
P.M
. and don’t worry about a sleeping bag; we’ll have everything you need.”
“
Massie
insists?” Claire asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Claire said. “Thanks.”
“Wait, I thought you already had pla—,” Todd tried to say. But Claire kicked him off the couch again before he could finish.
The instant Claire heard the front door close, she jumped off the couch and ran upstairs to her bedroom.
She grabbed a jumble of clothes off the chair in front of her desk, tossed them onto the floor, and sat down at her computer. As soon as she moved the mouse, her dancing bananas screen saver melted away, revealing her wallpaper—a picture of her friends back home. In the picture Sarah, Sari, and Mandy were sitting in a speedboat waving at the camera. Their cheeks were all squished because their life jackets were too tight, and their hair was matted down with spray. They had their arms around each other and they were smiling big, goofy smiles. Just looking at that picture made Claire’s chest feel tight. She hadn’t called them since school started because she was scared she’d cry when she heard their voices. She was about to IM them and ask how she should cancel her plans with Layne, but she knew they’d just tell her not to. They’d tell her to forget about Massie and her snobby friends, and Claire didn’t feel like explaining why she couldn’t. Shame forced her to come up with an excuse all on her own.
Claire started looking around for Layne’s number.
“I know, Layne, it totally sucks,” Claire said into the white cordless phone. “
Especially
on a Friday night.” She paced back and forth in her bedroom, stepping lightly to avoid the creaking hardwood floors.
“I’d be happy to come over and help you babysit if you want,” Layne offered.
“Uh, that’s probably not such a good idea.” Claire rubbed her nose. “Todd is really sick and highly contagious.”
“Bummer.”
Claire paced again. She couldn’t tell if Layne knew she was lying.
“Can we do something tomorrow?” Claire asked.
“Sure, around noon?”
“Perfect,” Claire said. “Thanks for being so understanding.”
“No big,” Layne said. And then Layne started to say something else, but Claire didn’t hear a word of it.
Claire was so nervous, she’d already hung up.
8:00
P.M
. September 5th
Claire arrived at the sleepover half an hour late because she didn’t want to seem anxious. By the time she got there, everyone else was already in the living room, dancing on the brown leather couches. Claire could see them through the big picture window, but when she knocked on the side door, no one answered. She figured they couldn’t hear her. The music was probably up too loud, she reasoned.
So Claire opened the door a crack and poked her head in. “Hello,” she called. “Hello?” The house smelled warm and sweet, like chocolate chip cookies.
“In here, Claire,” Kendra called back.
Claire walked into the living room and instantly felt her muscles tense. She was wearing her favorite blue-and-white sheep print pajamas. Massie, Dylan, Alicia and Kristen were fully dressed.
Pop music blasted from the speakers that hung in every corner and a giant glass bowl of popcorn was sitting on the glass coffee table. Heaps of clothes were spread all across the floor.
“All right, girls,” Kendra said, lowering the volume on the stereo. “The break is over. I need help packing this stuff up.”
Kendra began picking pieces of clothing up off the floor one by one—dark denim jeans, candy-colored sweaters, wool coats, nylon jackets, designer print T-shirts, stretchy skirts, and knit doggie clothes. She’d hold each one out in front of her for a brief second and then quickly fold it into a crisp rectangle and place it neatly in one of the many cardboard boxes that sat on the floor. The other girls were half-heartedly doing the same. Claire was hypnotized. No one acknowledged her except for Bean, who ran up to her and sniffed her toes.
“Hi, Bean.” Claire crouched down to pat the dog.
Before Claire was able to make contact, Massie let out a high-pitched whistle and Bean scampered back to her mistress.
“Claire, we’re so glad you could come,” Kendra said.
Massie glanced up. “Nice jammies,” she said. Then she went back to folding.
Not one of the other girls even looked her way.
“Why are you getting rid of
that?
” Massie asked Dylan. “You just bought it on Labor Day.”
“It makes me look fat!” Dylan held the thick white cashmere sweater in her arms so she could see it from a distance. The price tag dangled off the sleeve. “What was I thinking, buying white?”
“Lemme see, maybe I’ll take it,” Kristen said.
She held the sweater beside her face, but the girls shook their heads no.
“Into the box it goes,” Kristen said. She bit off the $300 price tag and handed the sweater to Kendra.
“What are you guys doing?” Claire finally asked.
No one said a word until Kendra cleared her throat in a very loud you-better-say-something-
now
sort of way.
“We host an auction here every year to raise money for OCD scholarships,” Massie said.
“Looks like you’re getting rid of a lot,” Claire said.
“Well, of course we are. All of this is
last
season,” Alicia said. “After we’re done, we go on a shopping spree to replace it all with brand-new stuff.”
Claire felt a rush of panic rip through her body. The kind she’d felt when she waved back to Andy Jeffries (her sixth-grade crush) before she realized he was waving at Becky Manning. It was the same general feeling of cluelessness. She had been wearing the same pair of Gap jeans for a year and a half, up until the paint incident.
No one had told her clothes were like milk or cheese, with a “best before” date and a shelf life. The only time she ever threw anything out was when it got stained or if she grew out of it.
“I have a bunch of stuff I can donate,” Claire offered.
“
No!
” the four girls said in unison.
Claire cocked her head and scrunched her eyebrows.
“The whole idea of the auction is to
make
money.” Alicia rolled her eyes.
“I know
that,
” Claire said. “I’ll go get some things and I’ll be right back.”
T
HE
B
LOCK
E
STATE
T
HE
K
ITCHEN
P
ANTRY
9:15
P.M
. September 5th
“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal to you,” Massie said to her mother. They were standing in the kitchen pantry surrounded by cans of soup, bottles of mineral water, bags of pretzels, and boxes of doggie biscuits, which Bean was sniffing. For some reason this was always the place her mother chose to talk when Massie was about to be in trouble for something.
“She is a guest in our house, not to mention a very lovely girl. I know you’ll really like her if you give her a chance,” Kendra said. One of her hands rested on the thick wood countertop and the other was on her tiny waist. She was wearing a black Juicy sweat suit and a pearl choker.
“Mom, why don’t you stop worrying about
her
so much and start thinking about how all of your matchmaking is affecting me!” Massie said. Her voice shook as she spoke and she was scared if she said any more, she would start to cry. “It’s like you care about her happiness more than you care about mine!”
Massie stormed out of the pantry and locked herself in the yellow-and-white downstairs bathroom. She sprayed some French rosewater on her face and gently dabbed it dry with a fluffy yellow towel, making sure to pat, not rub. She’d once read in
Seventeen
that it was a crime against beauty to wipe your face with a towel because it pulled the skin and caused wrinkles.
“Mass,” Kristen called through the door. “We’re going out to the cabana to set up—you coming?”
Massie cleared her throat and forced her voice to sound normal. “Go ahead,” she called back. “I’ll see you guys out there in a bit.”
Massie sat down on top of the closed toilet and read old issues of
Town and Country
for about ten minutes until she heard her mother go upstairs for the night. When she opened the door, Bean was right there waiting for her.
Massie was about to head outside to the cabana when she heard a noise coming from the living room. She slid off her flip-flops to avoid slapping noises and carried Bean in her arms so the tags and charms around her Gucci collar wouldn’t clang. She figured Kristen had snuck back in to swipe a few things out of the box, just like she’d done the year before, and she wanted to catch her in the act.
Massie poked her head in the doorway of the living room. Ribbons of yellow light, sent from lampposts on the front lawn, broke up the darkness and helped Massie see the box. As soon as she spotted it, there all alone in the middle of the big room, a wave of loneliness filled the pit of her stomach. She got the same feeling around Christmas when she’d look at the tree in the middle of the night. Something about seeing it all tall and proud, decorated with lights and surrounded by presents, seemed so depressing. Like looking at someone who was all dressed up with nowhere to go. Massie heard something brush up against the cardboard. She leaned in to get a closer look. It was Claire. She was kneeling beside the box and feeding it folded sweatshirts. She had a soft semismile on her face. She looked both peaceful and proud.
“At least they both have company,” Massie whispered into Bean’s batlike ear. She gave Bean a squeeze and slowly crept away.
10:15
P.M
. September 5th
“Sorry I took so long.” Massie shut off her flashlight and put Bean on the floor. “I had to take her for a walk.”
Four sleeping bags were laid out like the spokes of a bicycle wheel, and Bean’s white sheepskin bed was in the center. A glass bowl filled with butter-flavored soy crisps and Junior Mints—the ultimate combo—was on Dylan’s lap. They were in the middle of an intense round of What Would You Rather?
“’Kay, what would you rather?” Alicia asked. “A condition that makes you snore twenty-four seven or a condition that makes you fall down every ten seconds?”
“Snore,” Dylan said.
“Snore,” Kristen agreed.
“What would you rather have, a long curly pig’s tail or Chihuahua ears sticking out of the top of your head?” Kristen asked.
“The tail would be like having one big panty line all the time, so I’m going with Chihuahua ears,” Alicia said.
“Tail for me!” Dylan said. “I already look like a pig, so I might as well just go with it.” She snorted and stuffed a handful of soy crisps and Junior Mints in her mouth.
“You do
not
look like a pig!” Kristen snapped.
“You just smell like one.” Massie was trying to lighten the mood. The
last
thing she needed right now was for the night to turn into yet another Dr. Phil session about Dylan and her insecurities.
“I have one,” Massie offered. “What would you rather be? (
a
) Completely and utterly friendless or (
b
) someone with tons of friends who secretly hate you?”
The other girls were silently weighing their options, but Massie knew her answer right away. She would pick (
b
) no question—in both scenarios she’d have no friends, but at least in the second scenario she wouldn’t be alone.
“I’d definitely pick friendless loser.” Alicia flipped her hair. “I wouldn’t want to live a lie.”
“Same with me,” Kristen agreed.
“Ditto,” Dylan said. “What about you, Massie?”
“Friendless loser, of course.” Massie added an eye roll for believability.
Claire walked into the cabana holding her CD case. Massie saw her examine the sleeping bag situation.
“What a great setup.” Claire’s cheeks were flushed from running to the different houses. “This is so much better than my brother’s setup. You should see—” Claire stopped talking when she counted four sleeping bags instead of five.
Massie watched the tiny pulses beat like a heart on the side of Claire’s jaw.
“Claire, what would
you
rather be?” Alicia asked. “A friendless loser or a person with tons of friends who secretly don’t like you?”
“A person with tons of friends who secretly don’t like me,” she said quickly.
The other girls exchanged a look and Massie couldn’t decide if she thought Claire’s honesty was brave or stupid.
“Congratulations, you’re halfway there. The ‘friends’ part is the only thing you’re missing,” Alicia tossed off coolly.
Alicia looked at Massie for approval because her comment was nasty times ten, but she got nothing. Massie’s attention was on the zipper of her sleeping bag, which she was pretending to struggle with.
“I’m kidding, Claire,” Alicia said. “It was a joke.”
“Oh, is that what that was?” Claire’s face was bright red, but her voice was calm. “Where I come from, jokes are funny.”
Kristen laughed but was instantly silenced by Alicia’s glare.
“Are there any more sleeping bags?” Claire asked, turning toward Massie. “Your mom said you had extras.”
“In the closet by the bathroom,” Massie said. Everyone sat there for a second, not moving.
“Guess what I have?” Dylan broke the silence. She waved a piece of paper around in the air. “Cute coma guy’s phone number.”
“NO way, let me call.” Alicia pulled the paper out of Dylan’s hands and the girls gathered around Alicia so they could all listen in. “I can’t believe I’m about to talk to the hottest guy on
Young and the Restless
,” Alicia whispered to her friends.
“Hello?” a guy’s voice answered.
“It’s
him
,” Alicia mouthed. “Uh, yeah, this is May, your dead wife. I know what you and Melanie did and as soon as you come out of that coma, I will haunt you for the rest of your life.” The girls laughed so hard they shook.
