The Clique (18 page)

“What is it?” Judi asked. “Are you sick?”

“I think I have food poisoning,” Claire said.

Finally Judi tore herself away from the TV and creaked across the hardwood floor to the bed.

“How is that possible? You didn’t even touch your dinner last night.”

“Maybe it’s the flu. I should probably stay home,” Claire offered.

“Then we’re going to the doctor,” Judi said.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay in a few hours.” Claire whimpered. “Can’t we just wait a bit?”

“Maybe you should tell me what’s really going on,” Judi said. “I’ll drive you to school today and we can talk in the car.”

Claire stuffed her cell phone in her pajamas and ran up the stairs to the attic. She climbed over a pink tricycle, two mountain bikes, a Razor scooter, several pair of roller blades, tennis rackets, a small motorized Jeep, and boxes labeled
Beanie Babies, Barbies,
and
Shoelace collection
. It was like a burial ground for Massie’s dead toys. She finally made it to the diamond-shaped window that overlooked the Blocks’ driveway. Isaac was scraping something off the roof of the car (bird poo?) and Massie was leaning against the rear door talking on her Motorola. She never liked to wait inside the car.

Claire called Isaac and watched him struggle to get his phone out of the inside pocket of his blazer.

“Hello, Claire. Are you on your way down?”

“Actually, I’m calling to let you know that I’m getting a ride from my mother today.” Claire saw Massie hang up her phone and walk over to Isaac. “We are going to look at a few houses today on our way to school.”

“You’re not moving out already, are you?” Isaac asked.

“Maybe,” Claire said.

After they hung up the phone, Claire saw Isaac explain the call to Massie. When Isaac returned to his scraping, Massie turned to face the guest house. She ran her fingers through her hair and almost looked troubled by the news.

Judi’s pep talk was pretty standard. Filled with all the sorts of things mothers are taught to tell their daughters in situations such as this: “Those girls aren’t worth getting sick over,” and, “It won’t be long before they realize what they’re missing,” and, “When I was your age, a similar thing happened to me,” but it wasn’t enough. Especially once Claire was dropped off in front of a school bus filled with her classmates, who were anxiously awaiting her arrival. Not because they liked her but because they couldn’t leave on their field trip without her. Vincent, the art teacher and chaperone for the day, wouldn’t let them.

Claire quickly kissed her mother goodbye and ran out of their rental car.

“I was just about to call ABC studios and ask if they wouldn’t mind taping
All My Children
a few hours later today because Claire Lyons was running a little late,” he said. “But if you can find a seat in the next
second
, I’ll refrain.”

Claire’s eyes went straight to Massie, Kristen, Alicia, and Dylan, who were sitting across the last row of the bus—the only seat that could hold all four of them.

Directly in front of them were available spaces that no one dared fill without an invitation. And just to make sure, the girls had tossed their jackets, bags, and notebooks on them.

“Alicia, maybe you can
buy
Claire someone to sit beside,” Dylan said loud enough for everyone to hear.

Their high fives sounded more like gunshots to Claire. A few of the other girls on the bus snickered, which made Claire even more upset because they didn’t even get the joke.

“Claire, I’d offer you a seat back here if Dylan’s fat legs didn’t take up so much room,” Alicia said.

More gunshots.

Claire had no idea how she was going to make it through the day. She had no one on her side.

“Claire. Sit. Now,” Vincent barked.

The only seat that wasn’t off-limits was beside Layne. Meena and Heather weren’t anywhere near her, and Claire figured they were mad at her for blowing them off for Massie. It seemed like everyone’s world had returned to normal except her own and Layne’s.

Claire was happy to see that Layne’s fingernails were no longer painted “Massie Pink.” They were back to green and her thumbs blue. Her hair was in two pigtails and she was wearing flip-flops with leg warmers. Layne was finally acting like her old self again. Unfortunately, that also meant her oatmeal was making the trip into Manhattan with them.

Claire managed to avoid eye contact with Layne when she sat down. She settled into the aisle seat and prayed for an alien abduction. But the screech of the releasing brakes and the phlegmy sound of the revving engine told Claire that she wasn’t going to be rescued anytime soon.

The instant the bus made its wide turn out of the school parking lot, the thirty girls on board came to life. The pop divas blasted remixes from a boom box, the butt kissers swarmed Vincent to ask what school was like when he was a kid, and the driver told war stories to the suckers who’d gotten stuck sitting behind him. Only the back of the bus was quiet, because Massie, Kristen, Alicia, and Dylan were whispering.

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please,” Massie shouted. She waited patiently for the noise to die down.

Claire faced forward and ignored her.

“Thank you, Kara,” she said to one of the pop divas after she lowered her music. “I would like to introduce you to a new line of cosmetics called Glambition. Here to tell you more about it is Glambition’s president, Kristen Gregory.” Massie started clapping and everyone followed.

Claire couldn’t resist any longer. She twisted her neck around so her left cheek was pressed against the prickly cloth on the seat and her right eye was free to examine what was going on.

All four girls were dressed in their matching white satin robes. They sat in their seats with their legs crossed and heads tilted up toward Kristen, who stood up and addressed the bus.

“Glambition is a new brand of beauty products made from one hundred percent natural ingredients.” Claire thought she sounded like she was a washed-up actress on an infomercial. “Over the next few weeks we will introduce you to our complete line of creams, scrubs, body glitters, and cheek tints, but today we are launching our clear lip gloss. It comes in four flavors: Massie, Dylan, Alicia, and Kristen,” Kristen said. “Since you’re our first customers, we’re offering this very special product to you for the low price of five-fifty for one and ten dollars for two.”

Massie jumped up and added, “Not only does it look good but the Briarwood boys love the taste, if you know what I mean,” she said.

Vincent’s jaw dropped and he placed his sweaty palm on one of the windows to keep himself from falling as he stood up to shake his “warning finger” at Massie.

“Lies!” Layne shouted softly so only Claire could hear. “The Briarwood boy she’s talking about is madly in love with
his girlfriend
.”

But Massie’s audience clearly had no idea. They unleashed a fury of applause, “whoo-hooos,” and “yahs” to show that they not only approved of Massie’s promiscuity but that they liked to kiss boys too.

“What. Ever,” Claire said. She knocked her head against the back of her seat.

Hands started waving in the air, numbers were being shouted out, and everyone was fighting to get Kristen’s attention.

“How New York Stock Exchange is
this?
” Massie started walking the aisles handing out gloss and collecting money. Kristen, Alicia, and Dylan did the same.

“I’ll take one,” Layne said. “Why not, right?”

Claire saw Layne avoid her disapproving eyes as she handed a ten-dollar bill to Alicia.

“We only have mint, cherry, vanilla, and raspberry today, no oatmeal, sorry,” Alicia said. “Maybe next week.”

Then Alicia looked at Claire and in her loudest voice said, “Oh, and Claire, we have a new line coming out next month called TWO-FACED—you should probably wait for that one, it’s more your style.”

Claire peeled a strip of rubber off the side of her sneaker. She thought about telling them they should make a new line called SHALLOW GIRLS, but decided against it.

“Claire, I’m sorry I ditched you for Massie,” Layne said.

The words came out so quickly, it took Claire a second to understand what she had said.

“No, you’re not,” Claire said. “You’re just sorry because Massie ditched you.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” Layne fired back.

“Only I never ditched you, Layne,” Claire said.

“What about the night you had to ‘babysit’ your ‘sick’ brother?”

Claire felt her face burn.

“How did you know?” Claire said.

“Are you forgetting I was ‘friends’ with Massie?”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“Well,” said Layne. And then she paused for a long time and took a deep breath. “Because I would have done the same thing.” She exhaled. “But not anymore, I swear.” She held out her pinky finger and waited patiently for Claire’s. But Claire held back.

“Come on, I’ll forgive if you will,” Layne said.

Claire looked past Layne’s tiny green nail and straight into her eyes. She held her stare for a second and when she felt her own face soften, she shifted her gaze to her backpack, hoping to appear tough for a few seconds longer.

She unzipped and zipped five different zippers before she found the pocket that held her camera. She pressed a button and shuttled through the pictures she had taken over the last few days.

“I will forgive you, and I will shake that pinky of yours, if you can explain
this
.” She held the camera straight out in front of them so they could both look at the tiny screen together.

The first picture was of Layne talking to Massie in a deserted hallway. She was wearing a white knee-length skirt, a lime green Izod, and white pointy flats. Massie was wearing the exact same outfit, except her shirt was navy.

“What’s up, Mini Me?” Claire joked.

Layne cracked up and turned red.

“Okay, I admit it, I was a total Massie wannabe for a few weeks,” Layne said. “But I’m back!” She tugged on her purple leg warmers just to prove it.

“At least you lasted a few weeks. That’s more than most people on this bus,” Claire said.

They both laughed and locked pinkies.

“Friends?” Layne asked.

“Friends,” Claire answered.

“I’m sorry to announce that we have completely sold out of Massie, Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan,” Kristen announced. “But if you’re interested in getting our newsletter by e-mail, Dylan will be passing around a sign-up book.”

Kristen took a wad of cash to the back of bus and counted it in a closed huddle with the rest of her partners. She paid them each twenty dollars for their work and tucked the rest away in her Miu Miu fanny belt.

Meanwhile Claire and Layne forced their faces to fit inside the crack between their two seats so they could laugh at the sea of greasy, gloopy lips behind them.

“Test test,” Vincent called over the loudspeaker. He stood at the front of the bus, twirling the thick coiled black cord that hung from the bottom of the mike. His thumb held down the button on the side so his voice would be amplified.

“STUDENTS.” His voice nearly shattered the eardrums of every girl on the bus. He tweaked the volume dial and tried again.

“Students,” he said softly. “That’s better.”

“Dork,” a muffled voice shouted from the back of the bus. A sprinkle of giggles followed.

Vincent pulled his goatee and curled his lips inward so it looked like he had no mouth. He waited patiently for the disruption to cease.

“As some of you may already know, we have been granted permission to visit the set of
All My Children
today because I happen to be very special friends with one of the actors. So I expect all of you to be on your best behav—”

“It burnzzz,” someone hollered from the middle of the bus. “My lips are on fire!!!”

Amanda Levine stood up and fanned her face as if it had been torched.

“Mine too,” Noel Durkins wailed. She turned to face the back of the bus. Her eyes bulged when she heard the gasps that came after everyone saw her.

“What?” she shouted. “Whhhattt?”

“Oh my God, her lips look like they got breast implants,” Layne said to Claire.

“Big time,” Claire said.

Massie pushed her way through the hysteria and grabbed the microphone out of Vincent’s hand.

“Calm down.” Massie plastered a big, bright smile on her face. “It’s just the natural emollients working their way through your lips. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“I have it too,” Debby Weezer yelled.

“Debby, call your mother’s plastic surgeon,” Michelle Powers said.

“For the hundredth time, my mom doesn’t
have
a plastic surgeon, Michelle!” Debby snapped.

Massie addressed the girls again. “Just out of curiosity, how many of you are allergic to peanuts or nuts of any kind? I’m looking for a show of hands here.”

At least ten hands shot into the air.

“Thank you,” Massie said. She handed the mike back to Vincent and marched to the back of the bus.

“We want our money back,” Carrie Drebin shouted.

“Yeah!” Debby said.

“I just want my lips back,” Carolyn Rothstein said.

“Mine are so itchy,” Carly Cooper said.

Vincent flicked on the mike. “Everyone,
please relax
,” he said.

No one did. Kristen’s blubbering could be heard all the way in the front of the bus. It mingled with the existing sobs and created a symphony of hysteria.

“I’m going to f-f-f-faaaaail,” she bawled.

Vincent whispered something in the driver’s hairy ear and the bus pulled over at the side of the highway.

“
Enough
screaming, you harpies!” Vincent said. “I can’t hear myself think.”

His lack of anything helpful to say just made everyone panic even more.

Layne and Claire were the only ones on the entire bus who managed to stay calm.

“You’re vibrating.” Layne pointed to Claire’s backpack.

“What?” Claire asked. “Oh, it must be my phone.”

Layne crinkled her eyebrows when Claire took the humming silver cell phone from her bag.

“Since when did you get a—?” Layne was cut off.