The Pretty Committee Strikes Back (20 page)

C

Claire folded the napkin into a small, tight square and pressed it into Alicia's palm. She watched Alicia stroll back to the boys' table and waited for her to signal that Cam had gotten the note. Once she got the confirmation nod, Claire sat down and dug into her BLT. All of a sudden she was ravenous.

LAKE PLACID, NEW YORK FOREVER WILD CAMPSITE THE SHOWER HOUSE

Tuesday, February 24th 6:39
P.M.

“Rate me out of ten,” Massie commanded Claire as they hurried up the steps of the shower house. The rain had finally stopped but the ground was still moist. The air smelled like a mix of fresh-cut grass and wet poodles.

“Ten.”

“You're just saying that.” Massie pulled up the straps of her emerald green satin cami and tightened the knot on her short, cream-colored cashmere tie-front cardigan.

“I am not. You look ah-mazing.” Claire looked over her shoulder, probably checking for Mr. Myner. “Those new True Religion jeans look great on you.”

“They're Alicia's.” Massie rolled her eyes.

She clearly missed her conditioner-soaked wardrobe, which had arrived safely at Westchester's Delicate Dry Cleaners yesterday morning, thanks to FedEx.

“Well, you should ask her if you can keep them,” Claire suggested. “They look great on you.”

“Thanks.” Massie pulled open the door to the shower house and looked over her shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed.

If Mr. Myner caught them sneaking out of dinner early, the Lumber-Jerk, as Massie had dubbed him, would find some psychotic way to punish them. Maybe this time he'd wake them up at 3 a.m. to dust the leaves on the spruce trees.

“Kuh-laire, tens are reserved for special occasions only.” Massie held the door open for Claire. “If you start giving out tens on normal days, what are you going to give for parties or proms? Where do you go from there?”

“Fine, you're a nine.” Claire sighed.

“Really?” Massie raced over to the wide mirrors that covered the walls by the marble-topped dressing stations. “What could I do to be a ten?” she asked her reflection.

“You could relax.” Claire batted her short- French-girl bangs from one side to the other. “Ugh, I can't believe it's the eve of my first kiss with Cam and I look like
this.
“

Massie felt an anger surge zip through her body. “Claire, were your parents lobsters?”

“Uh, no.” Claire pinched her cheeks until they were rosy.

“Then why are you acting so shellfish?” Massie said.

“What?”

“Kuh-laire, in exactly …” Massie checked her wrist, then slammed it against her thigh when she realized the Lumber-Jerk had confiscated her Coach watch. “In about ten minutes I will lose my lip virginity. You, on the other hand, have already lost yours, no matter how much you and Cam want to pretend you didn't. So can we please stay focused on me right now?”

“Sorry.” Claire stuffed her Cover Girl lip gloss in the back pocket of her Gap classic-cut jeans.

“I can't believe you never kissed Derrington,” said an echoey voice from one of the shower stalls.

Massie's body froze. She was so nervous about her kiss, she'd forgotten to check to see if anyone was there. How could she have been so careless?

“It's just me.” The voice was followed by a familiar phlegmy laugh.

“What are you doing in here?”

Kristen padded barefoot into the changing area. Her body was wrapped in a thick green Turkish cotton bath towel and her short wet hair was spiky and wild. “BTW, how much do you love these heated tile floors? I don't even need slippers.”

“Kristen.” Massie stomped her foot. “What are you doing in here?”

“I should ask
you
the same question.” Kristen pulled a Q-tip out of the glass jar by the mirror. Her mouth hung open and her eyes glazed over while she twirled it around the inside of her ear. “Dinner isn't over until seven.” She smiled proudly. “I memorized your schedule. I also studied all of the trail maps and have managed to commit most of the bird and animal species to memory.”

Massie rolled her eyes. She was so over listening to everyone else's problems. She had major issues and no one seemed to care.

“I'm so bored.” Kristen opened a jar filled with blue water. She stuck her hand inside and pulled out a black comb, tapped it on the side of the glass, and combed back her short hair. “This place has everything. I would never want to leave if I didn't have to spend all of my time hiding under a bed eating Go-Gurt and leftovers.”

“Yeah, that sucks.” Massie tried to sound sympathetic, but all she could think about was Derrington and how far over to the right she should tilt her head before the kiss.

“The worst part is, there isn't a bus out of here until tomorrow night.” Kristen sighed at her reflection.

“So?” Massie felt her jaw tighten. She desperately wanted to tell Kristen to shut up so she could think clearly but fought the urge with every bit of strength she had. After all, the girl had spent the last two days lying on a wood floor and probably needed a minute to vent.

“I can't just show up at home early.” Kristen turned away from the mirror and looked at Massie like she was insane. “My parents aren't expecting me back until Friday.”

“Tell them the soccer game got canceled because someone got hurt,” Claire suggested.

Ugh! Why is everyone so obsessed with Kristen and her lame parents? Can we puh-lease move on?

Massie felt the anger building inside her again. It came harder and faster than it had before. Even the roots of her hair ached from the pressure. She couldn't hold it in any longer.

“Kuh-risten.” Massie turned away from the mirror and looked her friend directly in the eye. “Puh-lease! I am trying to get myself into game mode here and I can't if you keep going on about your ahn-noying parents and your stupid memory skills. Try to think about someone other than yourself for once.”

Kristen's green eyes immediately welled up with tears.

“Suh-orry.” Kristen gathered her clothes and stomped barefoot toward the door. “But I was under the impression that you and Derrington
already
kissed. Re-mem-ber?”

“I know. I'm sorry I lied.” Massie felt terrible for making her friend upset. She wanted to explain everything but would have wait. The clock was ticking.

“Whatevs.” Kristen hurried out.

“So what are you going to tell the MUCK girls?” Massie asked Claire once she heard the door slam.

Claire was too stunned to answer. She was still focused on Kristen and her tears, but once again, Massie didn't have time to worry about that. Not tonight. Why couldn't anyone understand that?

“Kuh-laire.” Massie slammed her plastic tube of vanilla-flavored dental floss down on the marble countertop. She was so frustrated she wanted to cry. “What are you going to tell the girls?”

“Uh.” Claire stopped picking her cuticles and looked up at Massie. “Okay, sorry.” She cleared her throat and stood up tall. “I'm gonna to tell them I saw you and Derrington sneak off behind the girls' cabin and that we should go spy on you.”

“And you're sure you can get them there quickly?” Massie started pacing.

“Positive.” Claire nodded.

The gentle sound of the lake lapping up against the sandy strip of narrow beach was suddenly drowned out by the noise of everyone piling out of the dining pavilion. Dinner was over and free time had officially kicked in. Everyone had forty-five minutes to do whatever they wanted before Mr. Myner continued his fireside reading of
Hatchet.

Massie inhaled and held her breath for as long as she possibly could. When she exhaled, her tensed shoulders finally relaxed.

“You're a sex goddess in three … two … one,” she told herself. When her countdown was over, she lifted her head and dabbed on a final coat of Cinnabon Glossip Girl, making sure the center of her bottom lip had an extra dollop, to make it look fuller. “Okay, let's do this.”

The weight of the thick gloss on her mouth made her feel secure and safe, like she was wearing a protective shell. “I'm going to get Derrington. As soon as you see us behind the cabin, get the girls.”

“Got it.” Claire turned toward the mirror and fussed with her short bangs.

Massie rolled her eyes and threw open the door of the shower house.

I
swear,
Massie thought to herself as she made her way down the steps of the shower house,
if Claire messes this up because she's too focused on her Cam kiss, she will be dead to me.

There was a damp chill in the air and Massie jammed her hands into the side pockets of her black satin bomber jacket to keep warm. Her knuckle brushed up against one of the sharp points of her
M
pin and scraped her skin. She had forgotten it was in there. All of a sudden she flashed back to the humiliating moment when Derrington had ripped it off his shorts and tossed it in the mud. The memory was enough to make her want to back out of the plan and hop on the next Adirondack Trailways bus with Kristen. What if he was so mad at her he refused to go behind the cabin? What if Claire brought the girls over and he was yelling at her? What if he really didn't like her anymore? How long would it take for her to get over him? Would she act as pathetic as Claire, or would she handle heartbreak with grace and dignity? Massie shook that thought from her head, hoping she'd never be in the position to find out.

She stepped away from the light of the shower house and hid in the shadows, watching her friends flirt and giggle outside the dining pavilion.

Olivia and Alicia were taking turns trying to walk using Plovert's crutches while Josh held him up to keep him from falling. Kemp and Derrington were trying to convince Dylan and the MUCK girls to eat leaves, Layne was playing Hacky Sack with the nonsoccer boys, and Cam was walking toward Powwow Log with a huge smile on his face. Massie felt like an outsider, a pathetic wannabe. And that was unacceptable.

She stepped out of the darkness and took long, confident strides toward Derrington without looking back.

“Hey, Livvy's gonna eat a twig for twenty dollars,” Dylan announced when Massie joined their circle.

“Great.” Massie reached for Derrington's hand and pulled him away without saying another word.

“What are you doing?” Derrington shook his arm free and stopped halfway between his friends and the girls' cabin. His voice was more serious than Massie had ever heard it before. Normally he would have been a lot more playful, but he was clearly confused, maybe even a little frightened.

“I
have
to talk to you,” Massie insisted. She tried to make it sound urgent, so even if he were mad at her, his curiosity would compel him to follow her.

“Oh,
now
you want to talk to me?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Massie asked, even though she knew. She remembered her too-nauseated-to-talk performance on the bus and all the other times she'd avoided being alone with Derrington since they had arrived at the camp. “Where are you taking me?”

“I'd like a little privacy,” Massie purred, throwing in a sex goddess wink for good measure. Where were the MUCK girls? Why hadn't they seen
that?

“Fine.” Derrington's expression softened. He held out his arm so Massie could grab it again. She didn't let go until they got to her birch behind the girls' cabin.

Massie leaned against the tree and positioned Derrington so he faced her. That way the girls would see her front and center when they approached.

“What?” He hooked his fingers through the belt loops on his khaki shorts and rocked back and forth on the heels of his Timberlands.

Massie had no idea what to say next. She thought about explaining why she'd been ignoring him and considered apologizing for lying to the MUCK girls about their kissing history. But nothing seemed appropriate. Derrington looked too ah-dorable for a serious conversation. He was bobbing his head up and down to a mysterious beat that must have been playing in his head and only stopped when he heard the boys laughing in the distance.

“Wonder what happened.” Derrington's dirty blond hair blew around his sparkling brown eyes. He looked like an anxious puppy dog that wanted to be let out to play.

Was this the moment Claire had been talking about? It had to have been, because Massie had no clue what to say next.
You're going to have your first kiss in three… two.. one,
she told herself. Then she tilted her head a little to the right.

“What?” Derrington asked.

“What what?” Massie repeated, her head still cocked.

“You look confused,” he said.

She lifted her head a little, realizing she might have tilted it a little too far, giving him the wrong idea.

“I'm not confused,” Massie said softly. “Au contraire.” She lowered her eyelids until Derrington's face blurred. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, she moved toward him. Massie stuck her hand inside her coat pocket and squeezed her
M
pin. The sharp points hurt as they dug into her palm, but the pain gave her something to focus on other than her pounding heartbeat and sweaty pits. She squeezed the pin harder.

Think of the dimmer switch in your bedroom.

Think of the dimmer switch in your bedroom.

Think of the dimmer switch in your bedroom.

Massie thought she heard Derrington giggle and opened her eyes. But his mouth was soft and relaxed, almost like he was asleep. As she got closer to his face, Massie felt the warm tickle of his breath above her lip. She was in his airspace and milliseconds away from touchdown.

Where was Claire?

But girls or no girls, Massie couldn't stop. She was in too deep. And to pull back now would be like asking someone to stop diving once they'd already jumped off the board.

Finally their lips touched. And then they pressed together. With every passing second the pressure got stronger, until Massie's top teeth felt like they were being forced to the back of her skull. But she didn't mind. It still felt better than kissing Doose. At least Derrington didn't have whiskers.

Massie released her grip on the
M
pin and slowly slid her hands out of her pocket. She placed them gently on Derrington's hips, like they were slow dancing. He hooked his fingers through her belt loops and rocked back and forth to the beat of whatever was playing in his head.