Massie trudged through the holly bushes separating the front door from the sunroom. The spiky leaves felt like a million knives stabbing her calves with every step. But compared to the pain in her heart, the prickly leaves might as well have been tiny puppy tongues lapping at her wounds.
“Eh,” Alicia breathed behind her.
“Ma,” Kristen huffed.
“Gaaaawwwrrrrr,” Dylan managed over a mouthful of dark chocolate caramels.
Massie felt her already deathly pale cheeks turning Q-tip white. She wanted to scream, to curl up underneath her duvet and inhale every piece of Halloween candy she could find without even bothering to calorie count. Instead, she just stared through the window, watching the scene in front of her play out like a low-budget horror flick on mute.
Inside, Landon was sandwiched on the sofa between two blond girls who were more tanned than Massie’s leather Hype Agyness tote. Miles and Ace, Landon’s buddies who’d modeled at Massie’s Ho Ho Homeless benefit, were wedged on either side of the girls. And Scott, a.k.a. DJ Re-Quest, who’d saved the day by DJ’ing the benefit, was stretched out on the floor. Bean and Bark were snuggling in a giant bowl of candy corn.
Massie’s throat cinched tight. She tried to swallow the betrayal rising like a lump from her stomach, but it was impossible. How could Landon cuddle with two girls who weren’t Massie on the most romantic night of the year? And in front of Bean!
An ice-cold hand gripped Massie’s shoulder.
“What?” she whisper-snapped. Bronze and Bronzer were snuggling even closer to Landon, the hems on their too-short minis inching up their thighs. What were they dressed up as? Desperate?
“You okay?” Claire’s voice sounded muted over the sound of Massie’s heart drumming in her ears. “This is totally my fault.”
“Gawd, Claire, not everything is about you,” Massie hissed without tearing her gaze from the window. Even though she did blame Claire, a little. But mostly she blamed herself for handing her heart to Landon so he could shred it like a pair of Rich and Skinny distressed boyfriend jeans.
Just then, the brassy blonde to Landon’s right squealed at the screen, flirt-burying her orange face in Landon’s shoulder. “Maybe those girls are, like, Landon’s sisters,” Kristen whispered hopefully. The trail mix on her breath smelled like pity.
As if sensing Massie’s despair, Bean sat up suddenly. Her nose sniffed the air and her eyes zeroed in on the window. She leapt out of the candy bowl, hurtling toward Massie. A second later, she careened into the glass-paned door with a thud.
“Beeeeaaaan!” Massie wailed, pressing her fingers against the tiny snot smudge on the window. Bean staggered backward, shaking her head from side to side. The PC dropped to the ground behind Massie and dragged Layne down with them. On the lawn, the boys snickered.
Startled, Landon looked up from the movie and squinted directly at Massie. Rushing over to the window, he picked up Bean and cradled her in his arms, Bark speed-circling his caramel Puma Black Labels.
Massie? Landon mouthed silently from the other side of the glass.
As casually as possible, Massie leaned against the window and flicked her flat-ironed locks over one shoulder, as if to say, Oh, heyyyyy. I was totally just in the neighborhood. Weird running into each other like this, right? Love the sneakers, by the way. Oh, and if you let those girls touch my puppy, I’ll show you a real-life Psycho.
Landon motioned for Massie to go around to the front door. Then his eyes slid down to the ground, where Dylan, Alicia, Kristen, and Layne were still crouched at Massie’s feet.
“Thinkheseesus?” Dylan muttered.
“Thedoorisglass,” Claire murmured back.
“Ehmagawd, would you guys get up?” Massie snapped, stomping through the prickly bushes. The holly leaves dug into her jumpsuit, as if trying to hold her back. She ignored them, hurrying along the edge of the lawn to the front door. The rest of the PC, Layne, and the boys fell in behind her.
When she reached the front of the house, Landon was standing underneath a flickering porch light in the doorway, still cradling Bean. The puppy practically flew from Landon’s arms into Massie’s the second she saw her.
“Hua hua huarrgh,” Layne shrieked, glaring down at Bark Obama, who was humping her feather-covered leg.
“He’s a major Star Wars fan,” Landon laughed, the skin around his bluish-green eyes crinkling in the most irresistible way. When he focused them on Massie, she dropped Bean to the brick steps and leaned against the doorframe. It was partly to look sexy but mainly to keep herself upright.
Massie snuck a peek at Landon’s eyes. Even in the dark, they seemed to change color every few seconds. Now they looked exactly the same color as the ocean water in St. Barts. Instantly, the anger she’d felt toward Landon for ditching her on Halloween evaporated like cheap lip gloss.
“Wanna come in? We’re just watching a movie.” Landon looked quizzically over Massie’s shoulder at her entourage, lifting his hand in a wave.
“Sure!” Massie grinned. Immediately, she cursed herself for not acting like she might have had something better to do. Behind her, the Pretty Committee exchanged glances. Why was it that one look at Landon made her forget how to act alpha?
“Awesome.” Landon led the group through the dark foyer and into the sunroom, where the girls, Miles, Ace, and Scott were still glued to the movie. The tiny room smelled like cheap vanilla body spray, sugar, and warm puppy. Massie’s eyes slid from the worn sisal rug to the pilled Aztec-patterned throw draped over the back of the worn leather sofa. A decorative clay urn held the door open. Had Landon seriously turned down a night of trick-or-treating with the PC to hang in a room decorated in early American tacky?
“You guys remember Massie. And her friends,” Landon announced.
Scott lifted his hand from the candy corn bowl to wave. “What up.” He dropped his hand back in the bowl.
Miles and Ace nodded.
“And that’s Brianna and Liz,” Landon said, wrapping up introductions.
The girls glanced up briefly, then returned to the movie, ignoring Massie completely. On the flat screen, Norman Bates looked ready to go on a killing spree. Massie could sympathize.
“Hey.” Massie nodded at no one in particular. Her head was starting to throb from the overwhelming combination of cheap body spray and self-righteous ninth-grade beta.
The rest of the trampires half-waved, bouncing awkwardly in their heels like they had to pee.
“Trick-or-treaters,” Brianna muttered under her breath. “How cute. Candy’s by the door.”
The boys glanced at Landon, Miles, Ace, and Scott, who were all in street clothes, and reddened. Derrington was staring at the cashmere throw on the couch like he’d trade his Xbox and his Pro Evolution Soccer 2009 game just to have something to cover his bare chest.
“Remember when we used to go trick-or-treating?” Liz murmured, dragging the throw over the back of the couch and wrapping herself in it.
“Not really,” Brianna shrugged. “It was kind of a long time ago.” She side-glanced at Massie. “Vampires. How original.”
Massie’s stomach twisted into a giant Twizzler. Next to these girls, she looked paler than Kristen Stewart in January. Did Landon like girls who were super-tan? Was it too late to sneak a quick cheek-pinch?
Massie swallowed her insecurities, leveling her gaze at Brianna’s carrot-colored face. “Are you dressed as a statue?”
Brianna rolled her eyes. “No,” she said, a flicker of uncertainty passing over her face.
“Then why are you so bronzed?” Massie fired back.
Landon busted out laughing. Even Scott, Ace, and Miles cracked a smile.
And Bean and Bark ran victory laps around Massie’s feet.
The Pretty Committee, Layne, and Landon raised their palms for a round of high fives. Massie could feel a confidence comeback on the way. As she sashayed down the line, high-fiving her friends, she wondered whether she should slap Landon’s palm hard, like she meant it, or soft, in a more feminine—
Suddenly, her left heel caught in a loop in the sisal carpet, and she dove forward, her hands clawing desperately at the vanilla-scented air. It was as if someone had TiVo’d her public humiliation, and was playing it back in excruciating slo-mo. She caught a glimpse of Dylan’s widened emerald eyes and glossy lips, which were parting in horror as the gap between Massie and the carpet narrowed.
“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Dylan’s voice sounded far away, like she was yelling underwater.
Her stomach bottoming out, Massie threw her right leg forward to break her fall.
A long, pained squeal rose up from the floor, and Massie looked down in time to see her heel piercing Bark Obama’s paw.
“Yiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiippppppppp!”
“Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhmagaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawd,” Massie screamed.
Kristen’s nails grip-dug into Massie’s arms, pulling her off the pug.
“Bark!” Panic pulsed in Landon’s eyes as he swooped down to rescue his puppy.
“Bark! I’m so sorry!” Massie shook free of Kristen’s grasp and dropped to her knees, reaching for Bark’s shaking paw.
“No!” Landon pulled Bark away, shielding him from Massie like he was a precious designer tote and she was Winona Ryder on a shoplifting spree.
Massie hurt-widened her amber eyes.
“I mean… it’s fine,” Landon said quickly. “He’ll be fine. It was an accident.” But his eyes were stormy, like the Caribbean during hurricane season.
Massie tried to meet his gaze, but he was too busy soothe-petting Bark to notice. Her heart, and her confidence, sank through the floor.
A tiny smile twitched at the corners of Brianna’s mouth as she watched Landon tending to Bark. Shifting her attention to Massie, she narrowed her eyes. “Um, isn’t it past your bedtime?”
Massie wanted to strangle her with Bean’s collar. But instead, she whirled around on her heel, signaling to her friends that it was time to go.
“I’ll check on Bark tomorrow,” she whispered, too ashamed to look at Landon. She picked up Bean and tucked the pug under her damp, stress-stained armpit.
“Nighty-night,” Brianna said dryly.
“Text you later,” Landon said halfheartedly, without looking up.
The PC and their crushes were silent as Massie stalked out of the house and through the yard. Tears threatened to spill onto her pale cheeks, but she refused to let two orange-tinted LBRs make her cry. She hugged Bean to her chest and tried to put on a brave face.
But how was she supposed to do that when her puppy smelled like some ninth-grader’s cheap perfume?