THE GUESTHOUSE

CLAIRE’S BEDROOM

Tuesday, December 9th

10:17 P.M.

“A​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​!”

Claire’s mouth spread into a super-wide smile. She threw off her covers and ran to the window. Every single light in the Block house flicked on in rapid succession, from Massie’s room at the second-floor right corner all the way to the library on the bottom-floor left, as though the entire house were doing the wave.

Claire felt a wave of her own. It was either guilt or victory. She was too tired to tell.

As Massie continued to shriek, Claire quickly settled into her desk and video-chatted Layne.

Layne appeared on the screen, sitting in a high-backed chair and wearing what appeared to be an old-fashioned smoking jacket (or was that her bathrobe?). She was drinking something yellow and creamy-looking from an oversized brandy snifter. On the table next to her was a carton of eggnog-flavored rice milk (her newest obsession). A big stuffed animal—a cat—was in her lap, and she was stroking it. “Well, hello, Kuh-laire,” she said in a low voice. She raised the glass up toward Claire like she was toasting her.

Claire giggled, then held the laptop up to the window. “Hear that?”

Layne smiled a huge eggnoggy smile and then wiped her mouth.

The scream continued, getting louder by the second. “A​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​H​!”

“Sounds like she ran out back and…” Claire peered into the dark backyard. “And she’s running around the pool?”

“A little night swimming perhaps?” Layne refilled her glass.

Claire snickered.

“What do you think her face looked like when she saw them?” Layne said.

“Like this.” Claire made a goofy monkey face into the camera of her laptop.

Layne snorted rice milk onto the screen. “No, this!” she said, crossing her eyes and puffing out her cheeks. “Yee-gads. She’s still screaming. You weren’t kidding about the whole not-liking-bugs business.”

“Guess this means Mission Bedbugs is a success,” said Claire.

“And how!” Layne put down her brandy snifter, and the two girls high-fived their screens.

A moment later Claire signed off and went back to her window.

The entire Block family was out on the front lawn now. Mr. and Mrs. Block were in big, fluffy bathrobes, holding giant mugs of something steaming. Massie was in her silk Calvin pajamas and was holding on to her mother, whimpering.

Claire watched as, a few minutes later, Isaac came outside, still wearing his black driving outfit. He wrapped a thick blanket around Massie’s shoulders and then said something to Mr. Block, who nodded. Eventually, they began to file back inside. Claire figured Massie wouldn’t return to her room that night. If she knew her former alpha at all, she’d insist on sleeping in one of the bathtubs, a can of bug spray clutched to her chest.

For a moment, Claire felt bad for her former friend. Yes, Massie had bugged her first, but Claire was more resilient than Massie. She’d had to deal with hardships, like moving to a new town and living with a mean queen bee and battling sale seekers at Marshalls and overcoming adversity to rise to the top of OCD’s social strata. But Massie has never had to do any of that. She’d always been popular and rich. What was it that Claire’s mom always said? What doesn’t kill you just makes you stronger.

A little voice at the back of Claire’s brain whispered that “she did it first” wasn’t a good enough reason, that Claire was just trying to justify her actions, that maybe she shouldn’t have exacted such a terrible revenge on Massie. But Claire shushed it.

And with that, she flipped off her light, climbed into her own soft, bug-free bed, and fell into a dreamless sleep.