OCTAVIAN COUNTRY DAY SCHOOL
THE BOMB SHELTER

Monday, April 26th

2:09 P.M.

“Will you puh-lease stop looking over your shoulder?” Massie unlocked the door to the bomb shelter. “You’re making me paranoid.”

“You should be paranoid.” Kristen shoved everyone through the dark doorway as if fighting her way into a crowded subway car. “If Mr. Myner catches us again—”

“If he catches us again, we’ll have to dump more compost.” Claire flicked on the industrial light switch by the floor. “Big deal. It’s worth it.”

“Point.” Alicia lifted her finger.

“S’cuse me?” Kristen squinted. “Aren’t you the one who said this was wrong?”

Claire blushed at the memory of herself preaching morality to the Pretty Committee. She knew her change of heart must come off as hypocritical. But that was before she knew Cam was keeping secrets. And if he could be immoral, so could she. Besides, at this point it was a matter of health. Thoughts of him lip-sharing gummies on a sunlit swim dock with Nikki or cloaking her in his beat-up leather jacket by the warm light of a crackling bonfire were keeping her up at night. In class, she was either dozing off or conjuring up more stomach-churning images of her Cam with a hotter, smarter, funnier camp crush. He was betraying her and making her look like a fool in front of his friends and hers, and the only way Claire knew how to even the score and uncover the truth was to betray him back.

Stepping over the DIY scraps of denim and rhinestones left behind by the DSL Daters, Claire quickly settled into a pink faux-fur director’s chair. She glared at the black monitor and willed it to go easy on her.

“Jalapeño and cheese, anyone?” Dylan grabbed a handful of popcorn from the movie-theater-style machine and dropped it in the hard-butterscotch-flavored snack bag. “Or should we go for something a little less Tex-Mex and more tropical, like, say, pineapple-coconut?”

“Ew.” Alicia casually slid a bottle of pink Hard Candy Pussy Cat polish in the side pocket of her sleeveless black Foley + Corinna corset dress. “Are you trying to blow up before bikini season?”

“My guys like a little junk in the trunk,” Dylan gleefully insisted while seasoning her popcorn. “And who am I to deny them?”

Alicia turned away from Dylan in mild disgust. “Hurry, Mass! What if one of the guys is confessing his love for me and we’re missing it?”

“Desperate much?” Kristen passed out a steaming round of freshly brewed Starbucks nonfat vanilla lattes.

“Puh-lease! You’re calling me desperate?” Alicia smoothed the stiff white collar that was peeking out the top of her sleeveless corset dress. “You’re the one wearing a black T-shirt with a skull on it.”

“And black nail polish,” Dylan added, taking a seat.

Alicia grinned. “Did your mom see your outfit this morning?”

Kristen shook her head no. “I wore gloves and a white cardigan to breakfast.”

“Did you have deviled eggs?” giggled Massie.

The girls cracked up.

“Did you eat them with a pitchfork?” asked Alicia as she climbed into her faux-fur chair. “Were they sinfully good?”

“Did you Grif-fin-ish them?” Dylan busted out.

Everyone doubled over laughing, except Claire, who was fixated on the monitor, waiting patiently for it to power up and put her mind at ease.

“This has nuh-thing to do with Griffin,” snapped Kristen as she sat. “I’ve always had a dark side.”

“Yeah,” Massie snickered. “Your roots!”

Kristen rolled her eyes and blew on her latte.

All of a sudden, the monitor hummed to life. A rush of sweat pooled under Claire’s underarms, releasing a sudden whiff of ocean-breeze-scented Sure.

A black-and-white shot of the classroom filled the screen. “We’re in!” announced Massie.

The Share Bear must have been hibernating on Dr. Loni’s desk, because all of the boys were visible in the horseshoe configuration of their seats, each one hunched over a composition journal, writing.

“Remember,” Massie announced, “no one leaves until they pick a date for Skye’s party.” The bell sleeves on her purple-and-white-knit Missoni dress brushed against her cuticles, which she had been nervously picking at all day.

Everyone leaned toward the screen, showing their eagerness to cooperate.

“Pens down,” Dr. Loni’s voice instructed from somewhere in the distance.

The girls leaned forward even more.

“I asked each of you to draw a map of your heart,” Dr. Loni continued. “And now, I’d like you to share those maps.”

The grilled-cheese-and-tomato sandwich Claire had for lunch started retracing its steps. Heartbreak barf was inevitable unless Cam somehow managed to prove that Nikki was his long-lost sister and “re-gifting” was code for “I love Claire.”

“Griffin, why don’t we start with you?” Dr. Loni walked the Share Bear to the seat by the window. A shaky image of a pale-skinned boy with spiked black hair, tight gray jeans, leather wrist cuffs, and a T-shirt with a 3-D rubber gargoyle clawing its way through the cotton rocked on-screen. He reached out and grabbed the Share Bear, fixing the shot on his sharp chin and full lips.

“Um, okay.” His voice was gravelly and low. “The four chambers of my heart are dedicated to: One, taking over the family business…”

Massie high-fived Kristen, who squealed with delight.

“Two, the pursuit of knowledge.”

“Ehmagawd!” Kristen air-clapped. “I love knowledge.”

“Three, Hades, my pet ferret.”

Kristen waved that one away like Celine Dion perfume.

“And the fourth chamber of my heart is dedicated to”—he reached below his desk and lifted out a worn paperback—“reading.”

“Ehmagawd!” everyone shrieked, except Claire, who couldn’t help feeling slightly jealous that everything with Kristen’s crush was going so perfectly.

“It’s like I invented him on The Sims.” Kristen fanned her flushed face.

“And what are you reading, might I ask?” twanged Dr. Loni.

“Good question.” Kristen ran her fingers along one of the bumpy pink crossbones on her shirt in anticipation.

“I bet it’s a manual on how to skin a puppy,” Dylan said.

“Ew.” Alicia giggle-winced.

“A little respect for Kristen’s crush, please,” Massie insisted.

It was totally not like her to defend a guy in skinny jeans, but his family owned a pizza empire, and Kristen seemed willing to make him her date, so it all made perfect sense.

“The book, Griffin,” Dr. Loni repeated with a little more emphasis.

Griffin lowered it. “You’ll laugh.”

“Wrong.” Dr. Loni clapped once for emphasis. “We’re inside the fortress of trust, remember?”

He surveyed the room. “Fine.” He exhaled. “It’s The Notebook, by Nicholas Sparks.”

Surprisingly, not one boy laughed.

“Ehmagawd, I loved that book!” Kristen gushed. “I bawled when I finished it. B-A-W-L-E-D, wept!”

“Yeah, but you’re a girl.” Dylan snickered.

Massie elbowed her in the ribs. “I think it’s sweet.”

“Do you want to tell us why this book speaks to you?” Dr. Loni pushed.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Griffin sounded defensive. “It’s a time-honored romance about love lost and found again.”

Claire listened for the inevitable snickers and jabs, but the boys were curiously silent.

Dr. Loni applauded. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” He paused and then lowered his voice. “Are you interested in continuing this journey, Griffin?”

“Say yes!” Kristen shouted like an overenthusiastic audience member on The Price Is Right.

“Continue!” Massie hollered.

“Do it!” Dylan bit off a chunk of her butterscotch-flavored popcorn bag.

Alicia and Claire giggled.

“Sure.” Griffin half-smiled. “I’ll continue.”

“Yes!” The girls cheer-clapped.

“Good.” Dr. Loni walked in front of the Share Bear. His portly torso filled the screen. All anyone could see was a big belly zipped inside a bright sweat-jacket.

“Move!” Kristen shouted, frantically waving her arms as if trying to clear a giant smoke cloud. But he didn’t. And the bear, which must have been on Griffin’s desk, facing forward, remained focused on Dr. Loni and his carb-locker.

“Now, son, why do you suppose a sensitive, kindhearted young man like yourself would want the world to think he’s an angry, aggressive member of the underworld?” He placed his fingertips together in prayer position.

A noisy jackhammer, obviously blasting its way through concrete, bleated through the room before Griffin could answer.

“Dang that wave pool,” snapped Dr. Loni. “I don’t see why they have to work on it during school hours! Those machines sound so hateful.” Once the short bursts stopped, he cleared his throat, then adjusted his tone. “Continue.”

“Maybe the way I dress is a mask.” Griffin tugged the bottom of his monster T-shirt. “You know, a way for me to hide my true self from the world so I can’t get hurt.”

“Awwwww,” cooed the girls.

“Breakthrough!” shouted Dr. Loni.

The boys clapped supportively.

“I can’t believe they’re not laughing at him!” Dylan blurted.

“Why would they?” Kristen rushed to Griffin’s defense.

“Well, it’s just that he sounds so… sensitive.”

“Sensitive is nice,” Claire mumbled to her puffy red cuticles, even though she also thought the absence of heckling was odd for a group of boys.

“He sounds perfect to me,” Massie insisted, clearly hoping Dylan’s comment wouldn’t change Kristen’s mind, since she was the only was who was certain about her HART.

“Don’t worry.” Kristen leaned across Claire, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “I’m all over him like tears on tissue.”

“Thank gawd.” Massie tapped a note into her PalmPilot.

“Congratulations, Griffin. How about you pass the Bear to Mr. Plovert.”

The camera wobbled again. It finally stopped moving and focused on Chris’s YOU LOOKED BETTER ON MYSPACE tee.

Dylan unwrapped a sour-apple-flavored Blow Pop and stuck it in her mouth. “Do you think he’ll talk about me again?”

No one bothered to answer.

“The four chambers in my heart are dedicated to my white beagle, Wingman; soccer; Kemp’s Playboy subscription; and—”

“Ew,” Dylan practically spat while the boys laughed.

“And my fourth chamber is for girls who don’t ask me what’s wrong all the time.”

The boys whooped and applauded in agreement.

“It’s so true,” bellowed a crackly voice from across the room. “Why do they do that?”

“It’s like they think we’re thinking something when we’re not,” Plovert continued. “When I’m quiet, it’s ’cause I’m relaxed. I’m not thinking anything. But when they’re quiet, they’re really thinking things.”

“True again!” the crackly voice chimed in again. “It’s like the opposite. Girls think we’re thinking things when we’re not, and we think they’re not thinking things when they are.”

“It’s all about open communication,” Dr. Loni interjected.

“I also like cool girls,” Plovert added.

“Hey.” Kemp punched Chris on the arm. “I was going to say that. You copied!”

“Define cool,” said Dr. Loni, ignoring the interruption.

“Girls who act like guys but look like girls. You know—they eat in public and laugh at dirty jokes instead of acting all grossed out by them.”

“That’s five chambers, Mr. Plovert, I only asked for four.”

“Ha!” Kemp punched Plovert again.

“Yay!” Dylan waved her Blow Pop like a lasso. “Yay. Yay! Double yay!”

“They can’t be serious.” Alicia shook her head in disbelief. “Anyway, how do you know they’re even talking about you?”

“Because I’m the only girl at OCD who’s ever eaten in front of them.”

Alicia lifted her “point” finger.

“So.” Massie taped the PalmPilot stylus against her knee. “Which guy are you gonna pick?”

“I can’t decide.” Dylan knocked the green Blow Pop against her teeth while giving it some thought. “They’re both HARTs.”

Alicia rolled her big brown eyes.

“I liked her first.” Plovert smacked his desk. “I did!” Kemp smacked his.

“Gentlemen, it’s time to translate your rage into words.” Dr. Loni’s voice was soothing. “You can have feelings for the same girl. It’s very common. In fact, it can bring you closer if you let it. We’ll be focusing on that next week.”

“J’adore Dr. Loni!” Dylan blew the screen a kiss. “He’s pretty much saying I should invite them both. And he’s right. Two dates is so much more suitable than one! It’s suitable times two. Su-two-ble! Ehmagawd, wait until Skye and the wannabes hear about this!”

“What famous couple will you dress up as?” Kristen asked.

Dylan glanced up at the black ceiling. “I know.” Her soft red curls bounced as she lowered her head. “I’ll be Demi Moore, Plovert can be Bruce Willis, and Kemp can be Ashton. You know, ’cause they all get along.”

“Love that.” Massie nodded approvingly at her PalmPilot. “So Kristen and Dylan have chosen.” She smiled with some degree of relief. “We’re making progress.”

“When someone asks Dylan where Rumer, Scout, and Tallulah are, she can say she ate them,” Alicia offered.

“Ehmagawd, Leesh.” Dylan yanked the Blow Pop from her mouth. “If jealous was a number, you’d be infinity.”

“And if conceited were bricks, you’d be the Great Wall of China.” Alicia stuck out her tongue, a childish gesture that made them all crack up.

On screen, the bear was passed again. It stopped on the sleeve of a worn leather jacket.

Claire’s stomach contracted. She would have known that sleeve anywhere. It was cold to the touch and smelled like sushi and Drakkar Noir.

“My four chambers are for rock music, my family, soccer, and—” She closed her eyes. Held her breath. And vowed never to do anything immoral again if he would just say…

“Claire.”

She exhaled. She had been wrong about Nikki the camp tramp. From this moment on she would never doubt Cam—

“Liar!” Derrington fake-sneezed.

“What?” Claire gasped at the screen. “No. He. Is. Not!”

Several hands gently touched her back and rubbed it as if she were in labor.

“Liar,” sneezed another boy.

“Liar!” sneezed another, until the whole class sounded like the nurse’s waiting room on exam day.

“Calm down,” insisted Dr. Loni, pronouncing the lin calm. “Why the accusations?”

“Maybe he should get a fifth chamber—for Nikki,” said someone who sounded like Josh.

Claire covered her mouth to contain the heartbreak-barf. She hated Cam for making her look like such a fool. Hated him for having a mysterious summer girlfriend. And hated that she couldn’t talk to him about it, because her source happened to be a secret camera in a bomb shelter.

“There’s nothing going on with Nikki,” Cam insisted, but like the boys, Claire had a hard time believing him. Was it the way he said “Nikki” that made her doubt him, soft and kind, as if he respected her? Or was it simply her name? Nikki. The way the two k’s stood side by side, like tall, thin BFFs, snickering and conspiring to steal her boyfriend.

“For weeks now you’ve been saying there’s nothing going on with her,” sighed Dr. Loni. “But then why does she send you gummy worms and cinnamon hearts? One of you is in denial? Which one is it? You or her?”

Claire couldn’t believe it. Even Dr. Loni thought Cam was lying. How could she have been stupid enough to fall for his nice-guy act? Massie had once said that when a guy gave a girl a lot of gifts, he was hiding something. And Claire had shrugged it off, assuming she was jealous. Yeah, right—like Massie would ever be jealous of her. She should have known.

“Are you going to be honest with Claire and break up with her before camp?” Derrington asked.

“Stop!” Claire shouted at the screen. “I can’t take it any-more!” Tears flooded her eyes faster than size zeros disappeared at a sample sale. She lowered her head into her hands and rocked back and forth.

“If you’re so into honesty,” Cam’s tone hardened, “why don’t you tell Massie the thing you don’t like about her?”

Everyone gasped.

Massie stared at the monitor, grabbing clumps of pink faux fur from her seat cover. Her face was completely void of emotion.

“E-nuff!” Dr. Loni stomped his foot. “You’re using each other’s feelings as ammunition, and I won’t have that. I want you both here after school journaling about your rage.” He yanked the Share Bear from Cam and handed it to Josh Hotz.

“Hey, we’re both wearing the same Polo button-down!” Alicia air-clapped. “I heart that.”

“My chambers are for the New York Yankees, Ralph Lau-ren, soccer, and, unlike Kemp and Plovert, I like girls who act like girls, not dudes.”

Alicia turned to Massie. “Done, done, and done. Sign me up.”

“He makes his sister clean his room.” Kristen sounded outraged. “Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Why?” Alicia applied a coat of Hard Candy Lip Sorbet, as if Josh were on his way over. “I love when people do my chores.”

“Fine.” Kristen slid off her chair. “Alicia, Dylan, and I have chosen our dates. Now can we puh-lease get back to class?” Alicia and Dylan stood.

“Go ’head,” Massie said softly. “I’m gonna stay and watch a little more.”

“Me too.” Claire sighed, her heart broken into way more than four chambers.