It's Not Easy Being Mean Part 18

Ma.s.sie buried her head in her hands.

One of the girls placed a comforting hand on her curved shoulder while another finger-combed her hair. Bean licked her elbow.

"How about some nice chamomile tea?" Kristen offered, handing her back the phone. "It's very soothing."

"Ew!" Ma.s.sie glared at Kristen through the s.p.a.ces between her fingers. "Chamomile sounds like Cam. And Cam reminds me of Mrs. Fisher kicking us out of her house for making a mess, and making a mess reminds me of the key, and the key reminds me of-"

"Okay, forget it!"

"Sorry." She sighed. "But we're down to our last guy and something tells me Skye did not kiss Shawn O'Hare."

"You mean Shawn O'Harelip?" Dylan made a distorted kissy face.

Kristen cackled.

Lifting her Motorola, Ma.s.sie looked deep into the eyelike camera lens and warned, "Bring me luck, or I'm getting a Samsung." After a deep, cleansing breath, she dialed the last eleven digits on her list of potential key keepers.

"Hi, Shawn? Um, I'm calling from the Board of Health.

Did you ever make out with Skye Hamilton?"

Beep. Beep.

Call waiting interrupted before he could answer.

"Well, did you?" Ma.s.sie hurried him along.

"Uhhh, can you call back after my supper?"

Beep. Beep.

"Whatevs." Ma.s.sie jammed her thumb into the red End End b.u.t.ton, then quickly checked her screen. It flashed b.u.t.ton, then quickly checked her screen. It flashed UNKNOWN CALLER. UNKNOWN CALLER.

"Bet it's Claire, begging for forgiveness because of the whole uncle lie." Alicia rubbed Crabtree & Evelyn sesame oil on her cuticles.

"I still can't believe she did that," Dylan huffed.

Kristen shook her head in disbelief. "Me either."

Tightening the sash on her white chenille robe, Ma.s.sie stood. It was against her policy to answer UCs. And it was double against her policy to answer if it was Claire. But what if it was a lead? She hit speaker and the girls pressed an ear against her Razr.

"Hullo?"

"I. Have. What. You. Want," said a computerized voice.

Everyone's eyes widened, silently questioning Ma.s.sie on her next move.

"Um, can I get your number? I'll call you right back from a landline. My reception is-"

"No. Landline. Talk. Now."

"What do you want?"

"We. Have. Demands. Do. What. We. Say. And. We. Will. Give. You. The. Key."

"Reveal your ident.i.ty or I'm hanging up."

Alicia gasped.

Ma.s.sie knew her approach was risky, but what if Skye was testing her? The rules clearly stated she was not to discuss this with anyone. anyone. So obviously the way to play this was to act dumb. Dumb and safe. Unless, of course, this was a legitimate caller who really had the key. And if it was, the last thing Ma.s.sie wanted to do was drive this person toward the compet.i.tion by not cooperating. So obviously the way to play this was to act dumb. Dumb and safe. Unless, of course, this was a legitimate caller who really had the key. And if it was, the last thing Ma.s.sie wanted to do was drive this person toward the compet.i.tion by not cooperating.

"Ugh, just tell me who you are," she snapped.

"Do. What. We. Say."

"Re-veal."

Alicia bit her fist, Kristen covered her mouth, and Dylan stuffed a cube of Blue Razzberry Bubble Yum in her mouth.

"Do-"

"Reveal," Ma.s.sie interrupted.

"Good. Bye."

The line went dead.

Ma.s.sie whipped the sweaty phone onto her bed. Dylan raced to retrieve it.

"Ehmagawd." Alicia flapped her hands like a baby bird trying to take flight. "Now what? What if they offer it to someone else?"

Taking her phone back, Ma.s.sie scrolled through her received-calls log. Her hand quaked with a mix of frustration and fear. The only thing worse than losing was being made a fool of, and at the moment, she was at risk for both. She highlighted UNKNOWN CALLER UNKNOWN CALLER and pressed send with such force her thumb turned white. But the phone wouldn't make the call. and pressed send with such force her thumb turned white. But the phone wouldn't make the call.

"Ugh!" She whipped it across the room and flopped down on her bed, trying to figure out her next move.

And then, as if by magic, her cell rang.

"Get that!" Ma.s.sie called.

Kristen darted across the hardwood floor like she was sprinting for soccer drills and pulled the Motorola out from under Ma.s.sie's purple-faux-fur-covered desk chair. "It's the UC."

"Hurry." Ma.s.sie leaped off the bed and raced to meet her in the middle of the room. Without hesitation, she flipped open the phone and lifted it to her ear. "Hullo?"

A shuffling sound, like someone rubbing their cheek against the speaker, was all she heard.

"Hul-lo?" Ma.s.sie pleaded again, loudly. Ma.s.sie pleaded again, loudly.

"What is that?" someone on the other end whisper-shouted. "Oh no! Your b.u.t.t just dialed Ma.s.sie. Stand up!" Stand up!"

"Kuh-laire, is that you?"

"Quick, press end!"

"I did, nothing happened...."

"Shhh, she can hear us. Say something."

"h.e.l.l. O," said a girl in a robot voice.

Ma.s.sie rolled her eyes. "Layne?"

The line went dead.

"Busted!" Alicia punched the air.

Dylan and Kristen burst out laughing. They turned their palms to Ma.s.sie, who pushed them aside and belly-flopped onto her bed.

"Do you really think they they found it?" found it?"

"Puh-lease!" Dylan dove beside her, sending puffy duvet waves across the bed. "Claire's just trying to pay us back for kicking her out of the Pretty Committee."

"Point!" Alicia wiggled across the queen-size mattress and joined them.

"If they found it, why wouldn't they keep it?" Dylan asked.

"Because they know I'll make their lives miserable," Ma.s.sie mumbled into a pink satin throw pillow.

"What now?" Kristen sat beside her.

"This." Ma.s.sie hit last call received. Someone picked up after the first ring.

"Do you have the key or nawt?"

After some fumbling and frantic whisper-panicking, Layne said, "Yes."

"Where did you find it?"

"Under Chris Abeley's bed," Claire chimed in.

"Ehmagawd, Kuh-laire?" Ma.s.sie felt sick to her stomach. "You're involved in this this?"

"Yup," she replied proudly.

"Well, as the head of the Pretty Committee, I insist you hand it over." Ma.s.sie wished she could text her hand to Claire's phone and smack her. "If you don't, you will be charged with treason."

"You kicked me out, remember?" Claire sounded like she was sticking out her tongue. "Your rules don't apply to me."

Ma.s.sie temporarily hated Claire for being right.

"Well, I want proof."

Layne sc.r.a.ped the key against the phone.

"You should have seen his bedroom," Claire boasted. "It was was the poem." the poem."

She told them about the mini-cologne bottles, the "Glamour-don't" clothes, his love of horses, and, most important, the Hershey's Kisses.

"No way!" Ma.s.sie remembered Liam crumpling up the silver foil and tossing it onto Skye's driveway. How could she have missed that? It had been right in front of her face.

"Um, can you hold on a minute?" Ma.s.sie covered the phone and turned to Alicia. "Why didn't you put Chris Abeley's name on the list?"

"Uh, I-"

Then she turned to Kristen. "Why didn't you tell me Skye was into Hershey's?"

"How was I sup-?"

"And Dylan, I can't believe you let Claire lie to us about Cam's uncle."

"I didn't know-"

"Kuh-laire, I insist you give me the key ay-sap."

"We will." Layne continued sc.r.a.ping. "Once you meet our demands."

Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan cheered silently. But Ma.s.sie knew it wasn't going to be that easy.

"Kuh-laire, this is crazy," Ma.s.sie hissed. "Whose side are you on?"

"The side of justice." Claire's voice was steady and confident. "Like she said, we have demands."

"Fine." Ma.s.sie rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

"We have a list," Layne grumbled. "Where can we meet?"

"E-mail it," Ma.s.sie snapped.

"Where? Can? We? Meet? Meet?" Layne sounded like a frustrated parent who was not going to ask again.

"My house," Alicia offered. "Dad's home office has a huge conference table, and I know where he keeps his legal pads. Everyone can have one."

"Fine," Ma.s.sie said firmly, hoping to regain some control. "One-thirty at the Riveras'."

"Done," said Dylan.

"Done," said Kristen.

"And done," said Alicia.