The Clique (21 page)

“Here’s your precious outfit back.” Claire tossed the clothes at Alicia as she walked by. She wished she had paused to see her reaction, but she couldn’t stop. The adrenaline wouldn’t let her.

Claire finally stopped moving when she got to the back of the tent and realized she had nowhere left to go. She leaned against the thick canvas walls, hoping Layne would rescue her so they could leave. There was no way she was going to stick around the party after she’d one-upped Alicia in public. That would be social suicide.

Layne was talking to a cute busboy and Claire did her best to send telepathic cries for help.

Come on, Layne. Let’s go, Layne. LAYNE!
But nothing worked.

The sound of microphone feedback pierced the air and everyone looked over at the stage as if they had just been woken up from a deep sleep.

“Sorry ’bout that, folks,” William Block snickered. He was swaying back and forth so much, Claire knew he had to be drunk. She snuck a peek at Chris Abeley just to see if he had noticed it. He had. His hand was over his face and his head was shaking back and forth. Claire could tell he was thinking,
Here we go again,
and she was anxious to find out what William would do next.

“I’d like to call an old buddy of mine onstage so he can help me out with the next item up for b-hiccup-id,” he said.

“Jay Lyons, everyone.” Claire’s eyes widened and her face shot forward as if someone had surprised her with a slap on the back. She didn’t dare look at Chris this time.

“Hello, everyone,” he said. Claire didn’t think he seemed any more sober than William.

“Now, here’s what we’re gonna do.” He placed his arm around Jay so slowly it looked like they were moving underwater.

“All we need is one thousand dollars more and OCD will have a new scholarship. Sooo, Jay and I are going to sing ‘Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall’—”

“Is that how much you drank tonight?” someone shouted. Everyone laughed.

William ignored the heckler and continued explaining his plan.

“And we’re not going to stop singing until we get the money,” he said.

Hands started clapping in anticipation of a beat. The crowd was anxious to see these two grown men make fools of themselves, like bloodthirsty spectators at a boxing match.

“I want my family up here,” Jay said.

To everyone’s delight, Todd ran up onstage and started dancing around like a maniac.

“Where’s my daughter? Claire? Claire? Come on up here!”

Claire’s mouth tasted like pennies again, which was a sign that puke was right around the corner. She could not believe her father was doing this, not only to himself but to her! Didn’t he understand that she had enough problems?

When she heard her name a third time, she ran outside the tent and took cover in a patch of azaleas.

It wasn’t until they got to ninety-one bottles that Mr. Block started calling for Massie. Once he started, he couldn’t stop. “Where’s my angel?” he called into the microphone. “Massie, come up here and help us out. It’s your school, honey. It’s all for you!”

Claire glanced over at Massie who was standing alone by the stage, looking uncomfortable. In that single moment Claire saw something in Massie that both amazed and confused her. Massie looked embarrassed, desperate, and scared. Massie looked human.

Claire reached into her pocket and pulled out Mr. Rivera’s cell phone. She’d fully intended to give it back to Alicia with the dress, but in the heat of the moment she forgot.

CLAIRE:
TAKE COVER. GO 2 THE AZAYLAYAAAAZ

“Where’s my little baby?” Mr. Block said again into the microphone.

Claire was wondering the same thing. She tried to peek through the bushes to find Massie, but all she could see was the back of the bartender standing next to crates of dirty glasses and empty bottles. She checked her screen, but Massie never responded. She was mad at herself for expecting otherwise.

CLAIRE:
HURRY!

The dads were down to eighty-nine and showed no signs of tiring out anytime soon. She would gladly have given them the money they needed if she hadn’t just blown it on an outfit she couldn’t keep.

MASSIE:
TAKE CARE OF BEAN IF I DON’T MAKE IT

CLAIRE:
LOL

“Move over,” Massie whispered from somewhere in the darkness. “Oh my God, this is brutal.” She was out of breath when she plopped herself down in the dirt beside Claire.

“I know. Parents shouldn’t be allowed near alcohol.” Claire rolled her eyes.

“Or microphones.” Massie smirked.

Both girls laughed awkwardly and spent the next few seconds drowning in unbearable silence.

“What would you rather,” Claire finally said. “Go up onstage and sing ‘Ninety-nine Bottles’ with our dads or hide in the bushes all night and get attacked by ants?”

“I think we both know the answer to that one,” Massie said. “And hey, there’s always oatmeal if our bites get really severe.”

“Wait. Really? That was you?” Claire said. “Thanks.”

She pulled a Ziploc bag filled with gummies out of her side pocket and held it open for Massie.

“You want?” Claire offered.

“Yeah, totally,” Massie said. She took the piece of pink gum out of her mouth and wrapped it up in a leaf and buried it in the dirt. Claire watched her navigate around the inside of the bag, trying to avoid contact with the green ones.

“I thought you hated gummies,” Claire said. She wasn’t trying to start a fight. She was genuinely curious about Massie’s change of heart. “Did you skip dinner or something?”

“No, I love gummies,” Massie admitted. “I just hate what they do to my thighs. See, you’re lucky you don’t have that problem. You’re a twig.”

Claire looked at Massie’s charm bracelet as it batted around the inside of the bag.

“I can’t believe you’re actually wearing the charm my parents bought you.” Claire shook her head.

“Oh yeah. Well, it’s cute,” Massie offered.

“Really? I thought you’d hate it,” Claire said. “I told my parents to go with the gold crown or the letter
M
but they insisted on the microphone because they said you used to like singing.”

“The truth is, I kind of did.” Massie gave Claire a tiny, genuine smile. “I actually went through a phase where I really liked musicals. I’d lock myself in the sauna room and sing songs from
Annie
and
Pippin
.”

“Are you
serious?
”

“If you tell anyone, I’ll make your life miserable,” Massie said, but she was kidding. Sort of. The two girls spent the next two hours hiding in the azaleas talking about TV shows, celebrity crushes, favorite Web sites, and disgusting smells.

They didn’t even hear their fathers cheering because they got all the money by the time they hit sixty-eight. They finally tuned in to the party once it was all over and the band was saying good night.

“Well, I guess it’s safe to come out of hiding now,” Claire said. She didn’t realize how chilly she was until she stood up.

Massie and Claire faced each other. Even though they had just talked for hours, they were both speechless. Claire wondered if this was what the awkward is-he-going-to-kiss-me-good-night moment at the end of a date was like. If it was, she hoped she’d never be in a position to find out.

“Well,” Massie said. She slid her charm bracelet up and down her arm. “Thanks for saving me tonight.” She dropped her gaze toward her pointy shoes and massaged her temples with one hand. Her troubled expression reminded Claire of an actress, desperately searching her memory for a forgotten line. “I had fun.”

I had fun
.

I had fun
.

I had fun
.

Those words played over and over again in Claire’s mind while she got ready for bed. When she was finally under the warm covers, she reached for her Elph and scrolled through her pictures. She raced past the shots of OCD, Layne, expensive price tags, and celebrity-size mansions until she found the shot she was looking for. The one she’d taken of herself the night of the sleepover at Massie’s, the one she’d decided to call “Rock Bottom.”

The night she’d taken it, she made a promise to herself. And by looking at the image of her sad eyes, she was keeping it. It was supposed to remind her not to ever, under any circumstances, believe that she and Massie could be real friends.

Only this time she had a feeling things were different.

Of course Claire wouldn’t know for sure until Monday.

T
HE
B
LOCK
E
STATE
M
ASSIE’S
B
EDROOM

1:07
A.M
. October 4th

Massie dried off after her twenty-five-minute steaming hot shower and slipped into her purple silk pajamas. Her body ached from sitting cross-legged for three hours and her insides were still chilled, even though her skin was red from the scalding water. She sat down on her bed and scratched Bean behind the ears.

“Well, Bean,” she said. “Only one thing left to do.”

Massie spent twenty minutes longer than she wanted on her State of the Union because she didn’t know where to put Claire. She wasn’t exactly “out” anymore, but she certainly wasn’t “in.” When Massie thought about how hard they’d laughed in the bushes, she moved Claire to the “in” column. But when she remembered how annoying it was to have a tagalong, she put her in the “out” column. Finally, when she couldn’t stay awake any longer, she came up with a suitable plan. She would start a W.A.S. column for times like these when she would simply have to
wait and see
. That way she could take her time and decide next week.