The Pretty Committee Strikes Back (17 page)

“How am I going to sneak in without getting caught?”

“Easy.” Massie beamed. “We'll dress you up as a boy. Mr. Dingle won't notice a thing. Have you seen his glasses? The guy is buh-lind.”

“We don't even have enough girl clothes to go around. Where are we going to find boy clothes?” Claire couldn't believe she was even entertaining the thought. But it wasn't like she was willing to go through with it.

“You can borrow Kristen's soccer clothes,” Massie offered.

“Kristen's?”

“She's here,” Massie whispered, then shared the confidential details of Kristen's arrival. “I promise this will work. Cam still likes you: he just needs to know that you still like him.”

For someone with not really any boyfriend experience, Massie seemed wise.

“How do you know all of this?” Claire asked.

Massie tapped her temple with her index finger and grinned.

Claire sighed. “Fine.” She knew one thing for sure: if this didn't show Cam how much she liked him, nothing would.

Massie threw the blanket off her shoulders and sat up straight. “Now me.

“Uh … okay.” Claire tried to shift her attention back to Massie. “You just have to act cool. You know, don't let the MUCK girls think they're right. Convince them Derrington was trying to act tough in front of his friends and then go kiss him for real.”

Claire paused to read Massie's expression. Was she buying it?

Her amber eyes were squinty, like she was considering the idea but wasn't completely sold.

“Then,” Claire said, as if there were more to her plan, even though there wasn't. “Thennnn …” She stalled until something came to her. “Then we'll arrange to have the MUCK girls walk in on you and Derrington, so they can see for themselves how wrong they were.”

Massie's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. A huge smile spread across her face when she finally closed her mouth. “Love it.”

Of course she did. Massie thought it was pointless to do anything unless an audience was there to witness it. And now that her first kiss could be considered “entertainment,” it seemed worth doing.

“Cool.” Claire couldn't believe she had given Massie good advice twice in one night. It filled her with the confidence she needed to face Cam, possibly for the last time. “Okay.” Claire jumped up again. “Let's go find Kristen and her boy clothes.”

Massie sighed and stood up slowly. “Let's.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Claire took the graham crackers and chocolate out of her pockets and held them out. “I swiped these for you.”

Massie rubbed her shrinking stomach. “Give them to Kristen. I can't eat.” She grabbed the blankets in her arms and shook out her hair. When she straightened back up, the look behind her eyes had changed. She no longer looked like a frightened squirrel. She was queen of the forest again.

Claire followed Massie to the front of the cabin, knocking branches and spiderwebs away from her face along the way.

“Ew,” Massie squealed. “Look.” She bent down and lifted a pair of white satin boy shorts off the ground with the end of a stick. “How
CSI
is this?”

“Those are mine!” Claire gasped.

“Double ew.” Massie tossed the panties at Claire.

They flew through the air, straight toward Claire's cheek but she jumped out of the way before they touched her. “I don't mean those are
mine
, mine. I mean those
were
mine. I gave Layne and Alicia each a pair exactly like that.”

“Well, one of them ditched them back here.” Massie giggled.

“I have a feeling I know who it was.” Claire pinched the Victoria's Secret label on the inside and lifted them off the ground.

“What are you going to do with those?” Massie covered her mouth with her hands as if she were about to puke.

“I'm going to remind Layne that tossing underwear in the woods is bad for the environment.” Claire held them out in front of her and marched up the porch steps. She kicked open the door of the cabin and headed straight for Layne's bunk. Layne was sitting cross-legged on her Indian blanket, pushing her cuticles back with the bottom of her toothbrush. The minute she saw Claire coming toward her with the underwear, she slid off her bed and raced to the back of the cabin. Claire cornered her by the closets, leaving Massie alone out front to face the MUCK girls.

“Layne, you can't just throw underwear in the woods,” Claire whisper-yelled. She swung the panties in front of her face. “They're not biodegradable, for starters, and—”

“I'm sorry, okay?” Layne burst into tears. “But what was I supposed to do? Give them back to you like
that?
“ She ripped them away from Claire. “Or maybe I should have tossed them in the trash so Massie could find them and parade them around the boys' cabin.”

“Massie would never do that.”

Layne rolled her eyes, then wiped her tears with the sleeve of her pink-and-white Hello Kitty nightgown.

“She wouldn't!” Claire insisted. She didn't like that Massie was getting blamed for this when it had nothing to do with her.

“How do you know?” Layne hissed. “It's not like she's the most honest person in the world.”

Suddenly Claire realized she had left Massie with the MUCK girls. If Layne felt this much resentment toward her, the others were probably tearing Massie's hair out by now.

“Look, I have to go,” Claire said. She heard Layne sniffle and softened her tone. Maybe she was being a little too harsh. “Don't worry about the underwear. Just don't leave it outside.”

“I'll wash it and give it back to you, I promise,” Layne said. “I'll soak it in Lake Placid tomorrow morning before breakfast.”

“No.” Claire lifted her palm. “Please don't. I don't want them back, really.”

“’Kay.” Layne sniffed. “Sorry. I just don't want everyone to know I'm the first girl in the grade to get
it.
“

“Don't worry, no one will know.” Claire hugged Layne, then took off to rescue Massie. But from the looks of it, Massie didn't need any help.

She was standing by the fireplace with her hands on her hips, glaring down at Carrie, Livvy, and Alexandra, who were perched on a red beanbag like three bluebirds on a rock. Massie shook her head slowly, squinted her eyes, and pursed her lips.
How did she manage to turn the situation around and blame the MUCK girls?
Claire stood off to the side and watched while Massie worked.

“Well what did you
think
he'd say?” She stomped her foot. The white pom-poms on her moccasin boot bounced. “He probably felt betrayed because I told you about our most intimate moments. I'm not surprised he denied it. He was caught off guard and probably a little embarrassed.”

“Sorry,” Livvy squeaked.

“You should be.” Massie kicked the side of their beanbag for effect.

“And now he won't even talk to me,” she pouted.

Claire felt a surge of warmth fill the spaces between her ribs. She was in the presence of a true master.

“It just seemed a little weird that he completely denied
everything
,” Alexandra said softly.

“Ugh.” Massie huffed. “I give up.” She lowered her head for a second. When she lifted it she looked utterly bored. “No wonder you three are lip virgins. You're way too immature for a relationship.”

The thumping sound of Mr. Myner's heavy steel-toed boots against porch steps got everyone's attention. The girls raced to their beds and shimmied under their covers. It was five minutes past lights out.

He knocked once and then barged in before anyone told him it was okay to enter.

“Why do I still hear talking?” He smiled as he spoke, even though he sounded kind of angry. His strong body stayed fixed under the deer head above the door frame, while his head swiveled from side to side, checking to make sure all the girls were accounted for. He wore a big cream-colored fisherman's sweater over a gray long john shirt and a pair of faded Levi's, no jacket or hat. Claire couldn't imagine why a mountain man of his proportions was teaching at a private school in Westchester. Why wasn't he living off the land and modeling on the side?

Mr. Myner's eyes stopped on Olivia. She was hanging over her bunk, whispering to Alicia but staring at Claire. When they noticed him staring, they both flopped back onto their beds. Claire's teeth started chattering. They were so onto her and Josh. She was dead.

Once the whispering stopped, Mr. Myner clasped his hands behind his back and paced across the floor. His boots left faint, muddy prints on the fluffy white sheepskin rugs, but he was too rugged to notice or care about staining the carpets. The girls, however, had been trained by their mothers and housekeepers never to wear boots in the house. And they couldn't help snickering at Mr. Myner's ignorance.

Massie kicked the bottom of Dylan's mattress. Dylan casually leaned over and bit her lower lip to prove that she too was having a hard time restraining her laughter. Massie sat up like she was doing a crunch and looked at Claire, who was in the bottom bunk beside her. Claire rolled her eyes so Massie would know that she understood why they were laughing. Of course, she never would have been clued in if she hadn't lived on the Block estate and spent ample time with Kendra Block.

“Where's Kristen?” Claire mouthed while she had Massie's attention.

Massie pointed to her mattress.

Claire's mouth fell open. Was Kristen actually under Massie's bed? She was about to lean forward and sneak a peek when Mr. Myner's booming voice broke the silence. He seemed so angry, Claire was afraid to move.

“There I was, walking the grounds, securing our site before retiring for the evening.” His words sounded like the beginning of another campfire story. “When I noticed a pathetic heap of ice and snow.
Funny,
I thought
That's exactly where my igloo was.”
He paused and scanned then-faces for a reaction. But the girls gave him nothing. Claire desperately wanted to look at Massie or the MUCK girls but kept her head on the pillow and focused on the sagging mattress above her, trying not to laugh.

“So I inched closer to investigate.” Mr. Myner marched over to the door and threw it open. He stepped outside, and when he returned, he was holding Doose by his antlers.

“Someone's
horn-y
,” Massie whispered. Dylan, Alicia, and Claire cracked up. “And that's when I found
this.”
Mr. Myner practically spit his last words. “He was buried under a pile of snow, his mouth covered in lip gloss.”

Everyone's shoulders started to shake. And at the same time, every girl in the cabin erupted into a fit of explosive laughter, except Strawberry, who had no idea what was going on.

“This is not funny,” Mr. Myner snapped. “Not only did you steal lodge property …” He waved Doose in the air. “You destroyed
my
property. And for that you will all get up tomorrow morning at sunrise, which is at exactly …” He lifted his wrist to his face and pressed a silver knob on the side of his watch. It beeped three times. “Which is at exactly six-forty a.m., and you will rebuild my igloo before breakfast.”

The laughter quickly transitioned into a chorus of whines, moans, and groans.

“But I didn't do
anything,”
Strawberry insisted.

“Well, unless you can tell me who did, I am holding you all responsible.” Mr. Myner tapped his muddy foot on the rug and waited for her to speak up.

“I-I don't know who's responsible,” she said to her down-filled pillow.

“Then I will see you all bright and early at six-forty,” Mr. Myner said. “Don't forget your mittens.” He smirked. “It's mighty cold here in the morning.”

“Cole? Co-ooole?” a singsongy voice called from outside.

“Ew.” Dylan said under her breath.

Mr. Myner's expression softened. “Coming, Merri-Lee,” he sang back to her.

Dylan rolled over on her side and faced the wall.

“Uh, I have to go over tomorrow's shoot schedule. So no trouble or you will be up at five to catch the first bus home.” Mr. Myner gently hung Doose back on the nail above the fireplace, turned off the light, and left. No one said a word until the sound of his heavy footsteps was no longer audible.

“I am so going to puke,” Dylan said. “Gawd, could she be any more desperate? “Who hits on a geo teacher?”

“Desperate math teachers,” Massie said. “And your mother.”

Everyone giggled.

“Very funny,” Dylan whined. “I swear, as soon as I'm sixteen I'm divorcing her.”

While Dylan complained about her mother and Alicia and Olivia went back to whispering, Kristen silently pulled off her soccer clothes and handed them up to Massie, who discreetly passed them to Claire. It wasn't easy wiggling out of flannels and putting on sweats under a layer of heavy wool blankets, but Claire was determined. She pinned her blond hair to the back of her head and swept her short bangs to the left, because Massie insisted it drew attention to her “good side.”

Once Claire was dressed, she handed her pink-and-green plaid flannel nightshirt to Massie, who tossed them under her bed for Kristen. Phase one of the plan was complete. Now all Claire had to do was stay awake until the others fell asleep. Then she would sneak out.

Somewhere between counting owl hoots and the number of times Strawberry snored, Claire drifted off. She woke suddenly to the sound of footsteps creaking on the wood of the cabin floors. A tingle of prickly sweat welled up on the bottoms of her feet. Was it a bear? Was Mr. Myner checking up on them? Was Alicia coming to strangle her?

The cabin door opened slowly, then closed. It must be someone going to the bathroom, Claire decided. She would wait until they came back and then leave, just in case they ran into each other outside.

Sometime later—it was hard to tell exactly how much without her watch—Claire woke up again. She was mad at herself for drifting off but knew by now that whoever had been walking around was either gone or had gone back to sleep.

Claire slowly sat up in her bed. The springs squeaked a little when she moved, but no one stirred. Gently, she rose to her feet and waited to see if anyone had woken up.

Nothing.

She lifted her right leg and stretched it out as far as it . would go, so that it touched one of the sheepskin rugs and not the creaky wood. When she felt the fluff beneath her wool socks, Claire took another step. She slipped on her shoes and then continued to make her way across the cabin, lightly hopping from one rug to the next, the same way she used to leap across river rocks back in Florida.