Dinner w/ the parents. Wish we could hang out tho… maybe Sunday?
Smiling into the four-way mirror in the sprawling BCBG dressing area, eight Massie Blocks tilted their heads to the right, examining the eleventh outfit of the afternoon: a rib-squeezing navy minidress with a sequined asymmetrical hem.
The original Massie snuck a shallow breath and admired her bronzed shoulders in the soft lighting. “Does this say ‘ninth-grade charity benefit’ or ‘eighth-grade semiformal’?” She turned around to consult the Pretty Committee, who were lounging on the floor of the minimalist dressing room, balancing recharging triple-shot lattes on their knees. Glossy shopping bags brimming with expertly folded wardrobe options littered the gold carpet.
Alicia sat against one of the mirrored panels. She examined Massie with the solemn focus of a Project Runway guest judge. But before she could respond, her iPhone pulsed with a text. She lifted her left index finger, the way Kendra did when she was on a call.
“Aidan’s going to Pup-A-Palooza too!” she announced, batting her lashes at the screen. “And he wants to know if I’m going!”
Massie jammed her hand on her hip. “Leesh. Benefit or semiformal?”
“Pluuuuus he wants to know if I’m bringing my puppy!” she squealed, slapping the soles of her black Pour La Victoire over-the-knee boots on the carpet.
“You don’t have a puppy,” Dylan reminded her.
“So? I’ll get one.” Alicia dipped into the reject pile next to her, lifting a moss-green spaghetti-strap gown and draping it over her skinny charcoal cords. The hazy green hue made her dark eyes gleam. “What kind of puppy goes with green silk?”
Kristen swatted Alicia’s silk-covered thigh.
“Do you girls need help in here?” A smoky-eyed salesgirl in low-rise black pants and a purple silk tank popped her head into the dressing area. She eyed the pile of dresses on the floor with disdain. “You know, you’re only allowed six items in the—”
“Do you have this one in a smaller size?” Alicia tossed the spaghetti-strap dress toward the doorway, obviously just trying to get the girl out of her hair.
“And this one!” Dylan balled up the ivory sheath and giggle-pitched it.
“Wait!” Kristen flung a bronze maxidress in the sheath’s wake.
“I’ll check,” the girl sighed.
“So has Landon texted if he’s going?” Dylan gulped her free-trade latte, then plunked her cardboard cup down at Massie’s feet. A few drops leapt from the cup and soaked the puffy gold carpet fibers. Option number four, a cream one-shoulder sheath, was draped over a wingback chair by the doorway. Dylan yanked it free and used it to dab at the carpet stain.
Massie turned back toward her reflection in the mirror. “He hasn’t decided yet,” she lied, eyeing her silent, dark cell, which was nestled on top of her pumpkin Chloé Forever bag for easy retrieval. Her minidress was starting to feel tighter by the second, like she’d just hit the Cinnabon in the food court—hard. Why hadn’t Landon called or text-invited her to the benefit? Were they nawt exclusive? Did he want to see other crushes?
“What if he takes Ankle-Bird?” Alicia wondered aloud. Then she slapped her palm over her mouth.
Massie narrowed her amber eyes at her friend.
“So how’re you gonna find her Saturday night?” Dylan asked quickly.
“I don’t know,” Massie admitted, biting her lower lip. “I have to figure out a way to check all the ankles at the—”
“Luke’s band’s playing Saturday night!” Dylan cut Massie off, distracted by her cell. Then she nudged Alicia’s thigh with the tip of her round-toe wedges and gasped, obviously forgetting about Massie’s dilemma. “What if he asks me to hang backstage with the other rock-star crushes?”
“Opposite of fair!” Alicia pouted.
“Bring me!” Kristen begged.
Massie wanted to stomp her bare foot on the carpet as hard as she could, then demand that the girls focus on her for the rest of the afternoon. They seemed to have forgotten that if it weren’t for her, they’d still be same-grading at soccer practice instead of upgrading at a benefit. She cleared her throat and tried one more time.
“Does this say, ‘BE-NUH-FIT’ or ‘SEH-MEE-FOR-MAL’?” she blared.
Finally, the PC quieted, shifting their gazes in her direction.
“Neither.” Dylan eyed the sequined hem. “It says, ‘V-V-V-VEGAS, BABY!’”
Alicia and Kristen exploded into giggles, turning their attention back to their phones and texting like there was no tomorrow.
Massie whirled back around, taking a second look. Horrified, she realized that her friends were right. The sequins practically belted out showgirl, while the hem length suggested another Vegas-friendly occupation. She reached for her latte and chugged half its contents, braving the scorching pain that seared her throat. Was she losing it? Cracking under the pressure of finding the perfect charity auction–crashing outfit? Or had the expedition to ADD exhausted the fashion sense right out of her?
As she stared at the sequined BCBG monstrosity, she mentally inventoried all the possible disasters that could ensue if Landon showed up to Pup-A-Palooza with Ankle-Bird instead of Massie. For one thing, the entire ninth grade would know that she was crush-minus. And with Alicia, Dylan, and Kristen moving on to ninth-grade crushes, where would that leave Massie? Stuck hanging with Claire and Cam?
Massie grabbed her iPhone. It was time to take matters into her own hands.
Massie: Plans Sat. Nite? Bean & I r having movie nite if u want 2 join.
She tried to ignore the sinking feeling that came every time she thought about the fact that Landon had never even mentioned Pup-A-Palooza, let alone invited her. What was he trying to hide? She stared at the screen, willing it to buzz. It worked.
Landon: Can’t.
Dinner w/ the parents. Wish we could hang out tho… maybe Sunday?
Massie reread the last line six times, the words more affirming than a commission-driven salesgirl. Derrington and Dempsey never would have come right out and told her they wanted to hang out with her alone. But ninth-grade boys didn’t play games. And neither would she, as soon as she found Ankle-Bird. As much as she hated the idea of showing up solo to her very first high school party, maybe things were better this way. With Landon MIA, she could focus 100 percent on the hunt for Ankle-Bird…
A freckled redhead in braided pigtails appeared in the doorway, holding a magenta tulle skirt.
“Occupied,” Massie barked, without taking her eyes away from her phone.
“But…” Confused, the girl eyed the aisle of vacant white dressing cubes past the mirror.
“Save yourself the trouble,” Kristen advised, slathering her lips with her new Smashbox gloss. “Not your color anyway.”
In a huff of pink tulle, the girl stalked out of the dressing room.
“Ladies, I have an idea,” Massie announced.
Kristen, Dylan, and Alicia turned to face her, and Massie was back where she belonged—in the spotlight. And after Massie dealt with Ankle-Bird, her upgrade would be complete—and just like her betas recognized her as their leader, Landon would realize there was no better crush, or animal supporter, than Massie Block.