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Authors: Lisi Harrison

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The Pretty Committee Strikes Back (14 page)

BOOK: The Pretty Committee Strikes Back
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“Derrick.” Massie pronounced his name like a disappointed teacher. “Are you having a soccer finals flashback?”

“What?” Derrington was confused. “No, why?”

“Because you seem a little desperate to score,” Massie said.

The Briarwood soccer boys busted out laughing and messed Derrington's hair.

“She totally dogged you!” Kemp smacked his own thigh.

“Your loss, Block.” Derrington looked genuinely hurt.

Massie must have picked up on this too, because she quickly moved closer to him and softened her tone.

“Look,” she whispered. “I just think it's a little tacky to kiss in public, especially in broad daylight.”

“So then later?” Derrington raised his eyebrows.

“Later.” Massie turned and walked back to her friends, but the MUCK girls got to her first. They couldn't wait to congratulate her on her performance.

“This way.” Mr. Dingle waved the losers toward the trail back to camp.

“What's wrong with you?” Layne asked Claire as the defeated group walked back in silence.

“Nothing.” She didn't want to talk about Cam because if she did, she'd start bawling. Besides, he was only a few steps ahead of her, helping Plovert. “How was your morning?”

“Awful,” Layne whined. “I have the worst cramps from you know what. It feels like I swallowed a squirrel and now it's trying to claw its way out through my belly button.”

“I can totally relate.” Claire sighed.

“Huh?” Layne knitted her eyebrows.

“Hey, Kuh-laire,” Massie called.

“Yeah?” Claire quickly played back the last twenty-four hours in her head, trying to figure out if she was in trouble.

“Fall back,” Massie insisted.

Claire stopped and let everyone pass. Once there was a safe amount of space between them and everyone else, Massie spoke. “I need your help.”

“What?” Claire wasn't sure she'd heard right. Massie never needed help.

“Shhhh,” Massie insisted. “What I'm about to ask you goes to the grave, ’kay?” She held out her pinky. Claire lifted hers and they shook.

“What is it?”

“I need you to teach me how to kiss,” Massie whispered.


What
?” Since when did making out with Josh Hotz once make her an expert?

“Pleeeease.”

Claire searched Massie's amber eyes.
Was she joking?
But there was no flicker of mischief and no innocent eyelash batting. This was real.

“Massie, I—”

“Please,” Massie begged.

Claire wished someone had been around to witness this moment. She had always fantasized about Massie desperately needed her for
something
, but never
this
. For the first time in their relationship Claire was in a position of power over Massie. And she intended to take full advantage of it.

“Okay.” Claire straightened her shoulders and raised her chin in the air.

Massie sighed.

“But only if you do something for me.”

“Anything,” Massie promised.

“I need you to help me get Cam back,” Claire said. “Before he ends up liking someone else.”

“No problem.” Massie sounded like she already knew exactly how she was going to pull it off. “Done.”

“Done,” Claire answered back, feeling like she had just made a deal with the devil.

One she had no idea how to repay.

LAKE PLACID, NEW YORK FOREVER WILD CAMPSITE

Monday, February 23rd 6:47
P.M.

Massie turned on the four battery-powered heaters she had swiped from her cabin and placed them around the igloo. She wanted Claire to feel warm when she arrived for their private kissing lesson.

Earlier that afternoon Mr. Myner had taught them how to build igloos by cutting blocks of snow and packing them to form circular walls. But no one's was as spacious and comfy as Mr. Myner's, so Massie had opted to hold her underground meeting in there. She sneaked out of dinner early to decorate it with sheepskin rugs and beanbags from her cabin. And for ambience, she placed eight red cinnamon-scented candles evenly along the floor near the walls. It wasn't like anything in the ice palace could catch on fire. Igloo decorating had its advantages.

By the time she blew out the last match, the heat was blasting. What had once been a frigid ice hut was now a warm and inviting secret clubhouse. All Massie could do now was wait for Claire and try to stop imagining a hungry family of black bears circling outside, licking their lips.

Finally, dinner let out. The wood doors of the dining pavilion squeaked open, giving way to a swell of simultaneous conversations and laughter. It was break time. And everyone would be going back to their cabins to digest and change into their pajamas before the nighttime bonfire reading of
Hatchet
—a novel about a thirteen-year-old boy who survived a plane crash and had to learn to fend for himself in the Canadian wilderness. Massie peered out of the semi-circular doorway knowing
her
survival depended on Claire and her kissing lesson.

Suddenly Massie heard a deep voice. “Uh, hello ma'am, mind if I join you?”

Massie looked up and shrieked. There was a giant moose head in the doorway of the igloo and it was staring straight at her.

“Relax.” Claire giggled. “It's me.” She hunched over and squeezed through the narrow opening, then turned the moose sideways so his antlers wouldn't chip the walls. “Wow, it looks great in here.”

“Thanks.” Massie's heart was still pounding. “What is
that
?”

“It's Derrington,” Claire said, like it should have been obvious. “You didn't think you'd be practicing on me, did you?”

“No.” Massie didn't know what she'd expected. “Of course not.”

Claire pulled a tube of cherry ChapStick from the back pocket of her classic-cut Gap jeans and swiped it across the moose's bulbous lips.

“Ew, stop that.” Massie burst out laughing. “Why didn't you take the duck or the fish? That moose's head is bigger than my leg.”

“Do you really want to kiss a fish?” Claire smiled. “And duck lips are so thin and hard.” She ran her finger across the dead animal's long lashes. “I thought the moose was the closest thing to Derrington.” She paused and looked into his still black eyes. “Let's name him Doose, like
Derrington and Moose
combined.”

“I get it.” Massie knocked the ChapStick out of Claire's hand.

A droplet of water landed on the leg of Massie's True Religion jeans. She wiped it away, then got right back to business.

“Okay.” Massie sighed. “Should we get started? The MUCK girls will be here soon.”

They looked at each other and giggled. Neither knew where to begin. Massie took out her Krispy-Kreme-doughnut-flavored Glossip Girl and slathered it on her lips.

Claire held Doose at arm's length and looked him in the eyes. “Okay.” She sighed. “This is how you'll be positioned seconds before the big moment. You'll be talking about something or someone and then, all of a sudden, there will be nothing left to say. And you'll just know it's time.”

Massie's stomach dropped. “
What
? What do you mean I'll just
know
? What if I don't? Or what if I know and he doesn't? I need more than that, Kuh-laire.”

Claire turned Doose around to face Massie. “Shhhhh, you have to relax.” She shook the moose head so it seemed like he was the one talking.

Massie slapped the side of Doose's long mouth, knocking the head out of Claire's hands. Both girls doubled over in hysterics.

“You better not do that to Derrington.” Claire was still laughing.

“I might have to if I don't know what I'm doing.”

Claire picked Doose up off the icy floor of the igloo and held him in front of her face. “You'll know it's the right moment, because suddenly there will be nothing left to say.”

Massie felt a wave of panic crash inside of her. “No! I hate awkward silences. We get them sometimes when we're on IM and it's buh-rutal. We'll be having a good conversation and then suddenly it stops for a second and the screen is blank. Then no matter how hard I try to come up with something ah-dorable to say, it seems forced and lame and I feel like he's going to think I'm boring.” For a split second Massie regretted how honest she was being. She had never been open about her insecurities before. It felt more uncomfortable than shower time in the OCD locker room. But at the same time, it made her feel weightless and free, a feeling she usually identified with walking down the street after Jakkob had just given her a wash and a bouncy blowout.

Claire's wide blue eyes were filled with patience and understanding. “This will be different, I promise. It won't feel like an awkward silence. It will be more like there's tons left to say, but you won't need words to say it.”

Massie opened her mouth to question Claire's theory but was cut off.

“Trust me, you'll just know. You'll feel a springy tingle in your stomach.”

“Okay, okay.” Massie hurried her along. The MUCK girls were due any minute. “Then what?”

“Then you'll be looking at him and he'll be looking at you.” Claire was gazing into Doose's black marble eyes. “And you'll inch toward each other slowly.”

“Wait.” Massie's hand shot up in the air like she was in class. A bead of water dropped off the roof of the igloo and slowly trickled down her wrist toward her elbow. She wiped it away without a second thought. “What if he doesn't inch and I do?”

“It's okay. Once you start, he'll follow.” Claire sounded like she had been teaching courses on kissing at Harvard. “But don't close your eyes yet or you may miss your target,” she warned. “Shut them slowly. Imagine they're being controlled by the dimmer switch in your bedroom.”

Massie wanted to strangle Mr. Myner for having confiscated her PalmPilot. She needed to write all of this down. “Okay, so when do I close my eyes?”

“When you make contact.”

“Okay.” Massie sighed. She was starting to get it.

Claire handed Doose to Massie. She grabbed it with both hands and held it in front of her face. It was heavy and awkward and kept tipping to one side.

“Lemme hold him,” Claire offered.

“So, you be Derrington's voice.” Massie uncrossed her legs and kneeled on her beanbag. It felt good to be the one giving the instructions again. “Say something that lets me know we're at the point where we no longer need words.”

“Okay.” Claire cleared her throat and hid her head behind Doose's. “I'm so glad we've been hanging out lately. I've been having a lot of fun.”

Massie cracked up.

Claire glared at Massie from behind the head. “You're not supposed to laugh.”

“I can't help it, I'm about to kiss a dead moose.”

“That's all you'll ever kiss if you don't take this seriously,” Claire snapped.

Massie was about to snap back but decided to let Claire get away with her bossy attitude. It wasn't like there were any witnesses.

“Fine.” Massie repositioned Doose so that he was looking right at her. She shook her head to get back into character. “Feed me that last line again.”

“Massie, I'm so glad we've been hanging out lately. I've been having a lot of fun.”

“Me too.” Massie stiffened her bottom lip to keep from laughing, then slowly leaned in toward Doose, her eyelids shutting with every inch she traveled. When her lips met Doose's Massie yelped and quickly pulled back. “Ow,” she wailed and rubbed her top lip. “He has prickly whiskers.”

Claire burst out laughing. “You want me to go get the fish?”

“Okay, okay.” Massie rubbed her hands along her knees. “Give me one last pointer and then I'll just have to wing it.” Massie was bored with the lesson and with letting Claire boss her around. She debated telling her she'd read William Cane's
The Art of Kissing
twice and watched his DVD. But why reveal all her secrets?

“Hmmmm.” Claire looked up and rubbed her chin like she was sorting though decades of experience. “I would have to say the most important thing is to keep your lips closed. Because once you open your mouth, you're inviting a French kiss, and I'm not sure you're ready for that.”

“Great, thanks, Claire.” She reapplied her gloss, straightened the candles, and puffed up the beanbags. “You've been a total help,” Massie admitted. She never would have thought to bring the moose.

The familiar sound of Ugg boots on twigs could be heard just outside the igloo.

“They're here.” Massie fell back into the biggest, beaniest beanbag and ran her hands over her hair. This was her last chance to make the girls in her grade forget about “Nina the Obscene-a” and worship
her
. And they would. Because this time Massie was ready.

“Heyyyyy,” Dylan burped when she crouched through the low entrance. She rubbed her belly. “You guys are lucky you missed the dinner. That bananas Foster was so buttery, it should come with a warning.” She burped again and fanned the air around her face.

Alicia, Olivia, Carrie, Alexandra, and Livvy squeezed in and immediately made themselves comfortable.

“Welcome to MUCK.” Massie tried to sound calm and confident. “Where's Layne?”

“Shesaidshehadcrampsandneededtoliedown,” Carrie said. “Shemusthaveeatenthestew.”

“Whatevs.” Massie shrugged.

“Ehmagawd,” Alicia gasped. “It looks ah-mazing in here.”

“Mr. Myner is going to be so impressed,” Olivia said.

“No. He. Won't.” Massie sneered. “Because if he knew we were in his igloo, he would have our heads stuffed and mounted over the fireplace.”

Olivia giggled at the thought.

“I'm serious, Ah-livia. He can't find out we were here.”

“Don't you think he's gonna wonder where all these candles came from?” Olivia asked.

“No.” Massie glared at Alicia, holding her responsible for bringing Olivia into her life. “Because when we're done, you're going to take everything back to our cabin.”

“Okay, great. Now can we please get to the kissing?” Alexandra pleaded. “I am so going to smooch Kemp Hurley tonight.”

“Thenyoubettertakethatchunkoflettuceoutofyourbraces,” Carrie suggested.

Everyone cracked up while Alexandra used her pinky nail to loosen the light green leaf. She reached her arm back and wiped it on the snowy wall behind her. A chunk of mushy snow fell off and plopped onto the ground.

BOOK: The Pretty Committee Strikes Back
5.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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