My Little Phony - 13 (21 page)

Massie finally looked up. Her amber eyes met Claire’s cornflower blue ones.

And just like that, Claire felt like they were looking past the weeks of petty fights and stupid pranks, looking past everything they’d been through, and just really
looking
at
each other. And finally each seeing, in the other, what had been there all along: someone to talk to, someone to laugh with, a confidante, a neighbor, a friend.

Claire smiled. Any moment now, Massie would rise up and throw herself tearfully into Claire’s arms, admitting that Claire was the closest friend she’d ever had and the only person she could ever be herself around.

Claire would give Massie tips on how to be middle-class. Soon, they’d shop the sale sections together, look for Elie Tahari and BCBGirl at T.J. Maxx, and wear outfits more than once. And Massie would finally learn about the comfort and cuteness that was Nanette Lepore for Keds.

Massie blinked and smiled slightly.

Claire opened her arms for the hug she knew was coming.

“Go away.”

Claire winced and stepped back. Her cheeks burned, as though Massie had just slapped her.

Massie propped herself up on her pillows. “When I want advice, I will watch Dr. Phil.” Her cheeks were bright red, and not from MAC shimmer powder. “And the rumor isn’t true, so don’t go spreading it. And don’t come here to gloat. Now puh-lease take your peace offerings, make like autumn, and
leaf
.”

With that, Massie threw herself back down on the bed and buried her head in her arms. Claire sat stunned for a moment. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, but no words would come out.

Finally, she stood up, feeling as though she were moving
underwater. The
Gossip Girl
case slid off her lap and landed on the floor. DVDs spun out everywhere. Disc 1 hit the wall and cracked in two.

Claire knew exactly how it felt.

Massie stood just outside the bathroom door of the pizza shop as the scent of garlic, oregano, and melted cheese curled out to meet her. Normally, the promise of a piece of Slice of Heaven’s organic, low-fat tofurkey Sicilian made her stomach grumble and her mouth water, but right then it made Massie feel sicker than really bad sushi.

The sloping walls of Slice of Heaven—the shop was built in the shape of a pizza oven—felt like they were caving in on Massie. She watched her friends elbow one another and dive into a giant deep-dish pizza, laughing like it was any regular day. And for them, it was. She didn’t know how criminals on the run or people who’d had secret plastic surgery did it. Just a few hours of keeping her family’s secret, and she was ready to explode. How had Kristen done it for so long?

Somehow, though, she had managed to get through the entire school day without crying in class or blurting out that she was poor. Not that it had been easy. All day long she’d felt like a breast implant about to burst. She had intentionally avoided making eye contact with all her friends. And three times she’d had to run to the bathroom for a stall-bawl. (Well, twice to cry, once to reapply her mascara.) She didn’t know how she could possibly get through an evening with the
people who knew her best in the world. The people she used to have so much in common with.

She watched as Dylan threw back her professionally straightened hair—$1,500 a pop—as she laughed. Alicia pushed her Prada sunglasses—$375—up on her head. Kristen adjusted her rose gold Tiffany heart-key drop necklace—a $410 birthday gift from Massie.

Her friends had so much luxury in their lives. Well, not Kristen, maybe. But were Alicia and Dylan aware at all of how much privilege they had? Did they even appreciate it? Their lives were so carefree—they could buy anything they wanted, and they had no idea how lucky they were.

From now on, the only things Massie would have of value were her friends. But that, she had to admit, was priceless.

And a-one, a-two, a-one, two, three
… Massie straightened her spine and gave herself a silent countdown. On four, she forced herself to reenter the dining area with all the confidence of regular old pre-poverty Massie.

Only no one had told the six-year-old running around the pizza parlor that Massie was trying to make an entrance. He ran straight into her, knocking her into a busboy, who dropped the four empty pizza tins he was carrying with an ear-shattering
CLANG.
The PC and their ninth-grade crushes looked up and laughed.

“Party foul!”

“Man down!”

Massie did her best to regain her composure and model-walked her way over to her friends’ tables. “I didn’t realize
it was kindergarten hour,” she said, throwing a nonchalant eye-roll toward the offending tyke, like,
Can you believe some parents?

“Point!” Alicia high-fived Massie as the boys smirk-nodded.

Massie sat down next to Landon.

“Vampire Weekend,” Scott was saying to him, “is clearly the new Kings of Leon. I heard their concerts sell out in minutes. We have to go.”

Landon smiled at Massie. Immediately, the tight knot in Massie’s stomach loosened. What was it about the way Landon’s ink-black hair fell over his glitter-nail-polish blue eyes that made her feel better than a full-body seaweed wrap? Even the fact that she would soon be living in a cardboard box didn’t seem so bad, especially if she had Landon to bring her blankets from the Ralph Lauren Home collection and bottles of L’Occitane Verbena room spray.

“Have you heard the Comas?” said Luke, tucking his thick blond hair behind his ear. “They’re the new Vampire Weekend.”

“Actually they’re the old Vampire Weekend,” mock-scoffed Jackson, giving his friend a playful jab on the shoulder before helping himself to another slice of Garden Green pizza. Jackson was a strict vegetarian. “Frightened Rabbit is the new Vampire Weekend.”

“Frightened Rabbit?” Alicia nibbled on the corner of a Margherita slice. “That sounds like a horror movie, not a band’s name.”

Dylan twitched her nose. “Th-th-th-th-th-that’s all folks,” she said, taking a bite of an imaginary carrot.

“Well, if you like Frightened Rabbit, then you should also listen to Aunt Martha,” Scott said. Scott’s first, second, and last love was DJ’ing, and he was always finding the newest of the new bands—the more obscure, the better.

Jackson just shook his head and threw a piece of tofu sausage at Luke. Within seconds, broccoli, pepperoni, and other such toppings were flying through the air.

“Food fiiiiiiiiiiiiight,” Dylan burped.

Massie shook her head. Apparently boys in ninth weren’t that much more mature than the Briarwood boys.

Kristen was staring at Massie, a strange look on her face. “Is everything okay?”

“Obviously,” Massie said. In her head she whispered,
Not
.

Kristen squinted at her. “Are you sure? You look a little pale.”

A wave of fear rippled up Massie’s spine. Had Kristen been able to sniff out the poor on her? And the desperation that came from trying to hide it? Was it a
we can smell our own
kind of thing? Kristen, after all, had been poor for years before anyone found out. She clearly had a lot of practice in hiding it.

“I’m just worried the new Louis Vuitton messenger bag won’t be released in time for the summer. I would hate to reuse last year’s.” Massie narrowed her eyes, daring Kristen to challenge the truthfulness of the statement, even though there was no LV messenger bag on the horizon.

“Oh, okay,” Kristen said, looking unsure.

Massie breathed a sigh of relief. That was a close one. And
then she realized with a sudden stabbing pain that even if LV was developing a new messenger bag, she would not be able to buy it. She added it to the list of disappointments she’d been compiling since she had gotten the news.

Landon nudged Massie with his knee. Normally little butterflies spread out from the point of contact whenever Landon touched her, but poverty seemed to have numbed her to love. “Isn’t that your friend?”

Massie turned just as Todd and Claire approached the counter. When Claire saw the PC, she waved vaguely. But when her eyes landed on Massie, her smile died and she turned sharply away. A wave of something passed through Massie. Maybe it was the whiff of spinach coming from the kitchen. Or maybe it was guilt over the way she’d treated Claire… and remorse over the fact that she couldn’t take it back. Whatever it was, Massie took a big gulp of Alicia’s Coke Zero to wash it down.

Todd marched over, a little navy wool cap pulled down over his little bald head. There was a lizard patch sewn in the middle. On his chest he wore a pin that had an angry X over a Santa face. Jagged letters spelled out
SANTA’S DEAD
. Massie’s eye twitched with what felt suspiciously like guilt.

“You eating that?” he said pointing to the PC’s last slice of deep-dish. “Don’t mind if I do.” He grabbed it and stuck the end in his mouth. As he chomped on his bite, a little string of cheese settled on his chin. “I’m going to need my strength if I’m going to redecorate Massie’s room when my family moves into the Block estate.”

Massie’s heart lurched. Nine pairs of eyes turned toward her, pinning her in place.

“I’m thinking”—he chewed thoughtfully and tapped one finger against his grease-shiny lips—“wall-to-wall aquariums. A giant snake in one, maybe. And maybe one whole aquarium that’s nothing but bugs. What do you think?” He looked at Massie as if he were really asking for her opinion.

Massie’s lips felt glued together, and her Tory boots felt cemented to the floor. “What’s he talking about?” Alicia said. Her chocolate-brown Ralph sweater perfectly complemented her brown eyes.

“Didn’t she tell you?” Todd said, obviously enjoying the attention. He stood up a little straighter. “Massie’s poor now.”

Time stopped. It seemed like everyone in the pizza parlor had turned to look at Massie. The little six-year-old picked his nose and pointed his booger at her. Two high-schoolers at the next table over snickered behind their French manicures. The chef whispered something to the cashier, who burst out laughing. Claire stood at the counter, an unreadable expression on her makeup-less face.

“Poor?” Alicia laughed, looking at Massie. “That’ll be the day.”

Gawd, if you’re listening, please make it stop! I promise to volunteer more if you just make Todd stop talking now.

Kristen’s green eyes widened to the size of quarters, and she wiggled her fingers the way she usually did when she was excited.

“If you’re looking for extra cash,” Todd went on, “maybe you should think about selling your hair. You know, you could shave your head.” He looked at her pointedly.

Massie tried to laugh. But it was no use. The world had begun to go blurry around the edges. She held on to her seat to keep from slipping under the table. She started to sweat in her very favorite, sequined peach Alice + Olivia sweater, which was especially awful because she could no longer afford to have it dry-cleaned. Just as she was wondering if she could fan her pits, she realized everyone was waiting for her response.

“He’s probably just had too much Red Bull,” said Massie finally. “He’s hopped up on caffeine and hallucinating.”

Todd shook his head. “It’s you who’s hallucinating, if you think your friends aren’t going to find out that you’re more broke than the Hubble telescope.”

“He’s lying,” Dylan scoffed. “Right, Mass?”

“Right,” Massie said. But she knew her voice sounded thinner than her now-canceled Visa. Kristen looked oddly excited.

“You think I’m lying? Ask my sister. Tell them, Claire,” Todd called.

Everyone turned to Claire, who was fiddling with the Parmesan shaker at the condiment table. Massie wiped her palms on her jeans. The problem was, Claire
could
confirm Todd’s story. And why wouldn’t she, after what Massie had said to her? Massie would do it. For what felt like the twentieth time that day, Massie took an enormous breath and held it.

Massie’s a horrible person,
Claire would say,
and now she can’t even afford to pay her friends to like her, like she did before.

“Todd’s right,” Claire said, staring straight at Massie.

Bile rose in Massie’s throat.
This was it.

“She should sell her hair. She’d make a fortune. Not that she needs the money.”

“Oh,” said Kristen, looking kind of disappointed. “Then it’s not true?”

Everyone at the table sat back, deflated. Claire walked to the table. “You know Todd, always scheming. He’s been playing too much World of Warcraft, and his next target is the Block family.”

“That’s lame,” Jackson said, crossing his skinny-jeaned legs.

“Yeah, not cool, man,” Scott said, shaking his head.

Todd looked back and forth between Massie and Claire, as if he couldn’t believed he’d been had by two girls who weren’t even on speaking terms.

“Lyons!” called the clerk behind the counter. “Pizza’s ready!”

Claire turned on the heels of her lime green Keds, claimed her pizza, and walked out. Todd trailed behind her, whispering angrily.