Monday, April 19th
4:35 P.M.
“Finally!” Massie stepped onto her gravel driveway, slammed the door of the silver Range Rover, and wave-thanked her driver, Isaac, for the ride. The instant he drove off, she let out a major sigh of relief. “I officially lift the ban on all OL topics and declare them OL.”
“Huh?” Claire crinkled her blond brows in confusion.
“All off-limit car discussion topics like ESP, compost detention, and the bomb shelter are now on-limit discussion topics because Isaac is gone,” Alicia explained, trying to wave away the rotten-trash smell that had glommed onto them like LBRs at a school dance. “Ew. I need a loofah.”
“I need shampoo.” Dylan pulled an eggshell out of her matted red hair and booger-flicked it onto the ground.
“I need a skin graft.” Kristen examined her mud-stained hands.
“Well, what are we waiting for, ladies?” Massie linked elbows with Alicia and Dylan. Dylan linked with Kristen. And Kristen linked with Claire. “To the spa!”
Like a human Frank Gehry torque-chain bracelet, they marched across the perfectly manicured lawn of the Block estate, toward the rustic horse-shed-turned-sanctuary. Along the way, Massie organized her thoughts into discussion topics, so they could get down to business the instant they got inside.
1) Force Kristen to choose a date (Griffin?).
2) Force Alicia to choose a date (Josh?).
3) Force Dylan to choose a date (Kemp vs. Plovert).
4) Help Claire get over the re-gifting thing so she can ask Cam.
5) Discuss: What could Derrington’s issue with me possibly be? Is he intimidated? Does he feel like he’s not good enough? Am I too perfect? Is it alpha to ask him to the party anyway, or should I find a new date? WWSD? (What Would Skye Do?)
6) Ways to make Chris Abeley get over ex, Fawn. Example: Spread vicious rumor about her unbreakable bed-wetting habit.
7) Ways to make Chris Abeley like Skye. Example: Give her a crash course in horseback riding.
8) Ways to make Chris Abeley call Skye. Example: Break into his cell phone and change all his stored numbers to Skye’s.
9) Ask Alicia if there was a Hard Candy Galaxy Glitter eyeliner pencil in the bomb shelter. If not, buy one before the party.
10) Has anyone even thought about studying for finals yet?
The closer they got to the horse shed, the more Massie’s heart pounded with excitement. She needed some unobstructed alone time with her girls almost as much as she needed a Dead Sea–salt scrub. Fortunately, she was minutes away from both.
“Clll-aire!” a distant girl’s voice shouted.
The Pretty Committee stopped at once.
“Clll-aire!” they heard again.
Everyone turned left, toward the quaint stone guesthouse where Claire’s family had been living for the past eight months.
“Layne?” Claire sounded surprised when she saw her friend speed-walking toward them. A clear backpack hung over the front of her torso, revealing a Chococat pencil case, a mini can of V8, a math textbook, an orange Lucite clipboard covered in old Transformer stickers, a blue Nokia phone, and several Slim Jim wrappers. “What are you doing here?”
Claire looked at the Pretty Committee apologetically.
“We’re supposed to study for the math final, remember?” Layne tapped her backpack with a neon-orange fingernail. “I’ve been counting the ants on your porch for over an hour. At one point there were forty-seven.”
Claire turned red. “Oh, no. I totally forgot.”
“Gee, thanks.” Layne eyed the Pretty Committee, silently blaming them for her friend’s insensitivity.
“I mean, I didn’t forget forget. It’s just that I had deten—”
“Don’t tell!” Massie coughed, reminding Claire that revealing anything about the bomb shelter could cost them ESP and, ultimately, their future as eighth-grade alpha-boy experts.
“I… I had a dentist appointment and—”
“Whatever.” Layne shrugged it off, like she did most things. “Let’s just go now.” She folded her arms across her backpack, bracing herself against the cool evening wind.
“Um…”
“She can’t.” Massie placed a composty hand on her J Brand denim–covered hip. “Because we’re, um—”
“We’re going to the spa,” Alicia bragged.
“Perfect.” Layne pivoted on the heel of her lime-green Converse sneaker.
Massie shot Alicia a thanks-a-lot glare. Kristen and Dylan snickered.
“Sorry,” Alicia mouthed.
Claire looked at Massie, her blue eyes wide and shifting, like those of a baby seal caught in a trap.
“Layne,” Massie asked sweetly, “are you made of Saran Wrap?”
“No.”
“Then why are you acting all clingy?” The girls burst out laughing, and Massie resumed her trek toward the spa.
She could hear the footsteps of the Pretty Committee in the grass as they followed closely behind her.
“You owe me,” Layne called after her.
“I owe you what?” Massie practically roared.
Layne hurried to catch up.
“When I gave you the key to Skye’s secret room, you told me I could come to one of your sleepovers every month.”
Massie stopped and glared at her. The others stopped too.
“And?”
“And I’d rather go to the spa instead.” She pulled out one of her three side-braids and re-braided it.
The Pretty Committee let out a collective gasp.
“It’s nonnegotiable,” Alicia snapped.
“What if I—?”
“Nonnegotiable,” Dylan insisted.
Claire squinted toward the horizon. The sun was sinking, like it didn’t want anything to do with this discussion either.
“What if I promise not to go to your sleepover next month, either?”
“Nonnegotiable,” Alicia reiterated, only this time she said it to Massie, silently asking her for backup.
“Please—it’s not like I’m Maksim Myaskovskiy,” Layne pleaded.
“Who’s that?” Claire laughed.
“Hilary Duff’s stalker,” she giggle-explained.
The Pretty Committee burst out laughing.
“Ugh!” Massie took the last remaining steps to the wood spa and gripped the massive barn door.
“Why do you want to go to the spa so badly?” Kristen asked, instinctively helping her friend slide the heavy wood panel.
“Because my brother, Chris, won’t be here for another hour, and I don’t want to sit outside in the cold anymore. Besides, it’s getting dark.”
Massie didn’t say a word. Instead she tapped her chin and squinted, rolling this new information around in her mind.
“Massie!” Dylan squealed. “I thought you wanted to talk about—”
“Fine.”
“Fine, what?” Layne asked.
“Fine, you can come.”
“Huh?” everyone asked, including Layne.
“Really?” Layne gave Claire’s wrist a triumphant squeeze. “Really.”
Claire grinned.
“Wait!” Alicia sounded shocked. “Why is this okay?”
“Does everyone have their cell phones?” Massie asked, her mind racing.
The Pretty Committee nodded.
“Then she can come.”
The girls entered the warm spa in silence. Massie could tell by their not-so-subtle side glances that they had no clue why she’d accepted Layne’s offer. But they would.
Eventually.