Best Friends For Never Part 15

By the time they had finished listening to John Mayer, Beyonce, and No Doubt, Claire had managed to make sense of her pattern instructions. Her first incision was a success, and as time pa.s.sed, she started to relax and enjoy herself. Hours flew by while the girls worked.

Claire was admiring her finished skirt when Ma.s.sie's phone rang.

"Hey, Alicia," Ma.s.sie said.

Claire thought Ma.s.sie sounded cold toward her friend and wondered if she was still mad about the whole Alicia-leaving-the-party-without-saying-goodbye thing.

"What's up?" Ma.s.sie asked as she turned down the volume on the stereo. "Yeah, I think Derrington's cool, I guess. ... Why? ... Did you find out if he likes Dylan yet? ... What about Kristen? ... Is he ever ever going to tell you? ... Well, what about Cam? ... Does he like anyone?" going to tell you? ... Well, what about Cam? ... Does he like anyone?"

Claire stopped sewing. She leaned against the back of the couch and listened.

"No, I don't like Cam." Cam." Ma.s.sie started pacing around the living room. "I was just asking 'cause I thought maybe Olivia did. ... Well, she was chasing him around at the party a lot. ... Cam Ma.s.sie started pacing around the living room. "I was just asking 'cause I thought maybe Olivia did. ... Well, she was chasing him around at the party a lot. ... Cam likes likes someone?" someone?"

"Who?" Claire mouthed to herself.

"WHO?" Ma.s.sie asked. "Well, find out. ... Look, I should get back to work, but I'll see you tomorrow. ... You'll find out, right? ... 'Kay, bye."

Claire's fists were clenched. So was her stomach. She had a feeling feeling Cam liked her after their Halloween party. Now Ma.s.sie's conversation had confirmed it! But she was desperate for more information. Cam liked her after their Halloween party. Now Ma.s.sie's conversation had confirmed it! But she was desperate for more information.

"Sounds like you and Alicia are friends again," Claire said from behind the couch.

"Not officially," Ma.s.sie said. "But she's got the best gossip and I kinda need to be tapped in right now, so-"

"Why, is something going on?"

"She wouldn't tell me over the phone." Ma.s.sie sounded irritated. "I'll get it out of her tomorrow."

"Oh." Claire hoped Ma.s.sie wouldn't pick up on her disappointment. "Good luck. Keep me posted."

Ma.s.sie responded with a yawn. "Look, I'm going to bed. I'm beat."

"Are you finished already?" Claire looked at the mess of needles, thread, and sc.r.a.ps of material around her. She'd need the entire rest of the week to finis.h.!.+ She started to feel panic rising in her chest. Why was she even bothering with this in the first place? She didn't stand a chance.

"No, I still have some finis.h.i.+ng touches to put on everything, but I'll do it tomorrow after school. Meet me here, 'kay?" Ma.s.sie asked.

"Yeah, I'll see you after school," Claire said with a smile, and suddenly realized the reason she was "bothering." For some reason, Ma.s.sie didn't mind having Claire around while they were working. And Claire wasn't about to give that up. She didn't even care why the change of heart occurred; she was just grateful it had.

"I'm going to pack my stuff up in a garbage bag and leave it by the door and I suggest you do the same." Ma.s.sie started folding up sc.r.a.ps of unused material. "Unless, of course, you want want me to peek at your uniform in the middle of the night." me to peek at your uniform in the middle of the night."

"No way. Give me one of those bags."

Claire didn't actually care if Ma.s.sie looked at her sample. In fact, she would have been glad. It was the first thing she had ever sewn by herself and she thought she had done a pretty good job. But Ma.s.sie wanted it that way, so Claire left her bag by the door and turned off the light.

Claire ran all the way back to the guesthouse. Not because she thought psychos were chasing her, like she usually did, but because Ma.s.sie was finally being nice to her and Cam had a secret crush. Claire just knew knew she was the girl he liked. And all of that made her feel like running. she was the girl he liked. And all of that made her feel like running.

OCTAVIAN COUNTRY DAY SCHOOL.

THE HALLS.

11:15 AM AM.

November 4th Ma.s.sie raced through the halls, past the Models Wanted signs and the high-gloss Fas.h.i.+on Week at OCD posters. Someone had taken a deep red lipstick and changed a few of them to Fas.h.i.+on WEAK at OCD. But Ma.s.sie had no time to appreciate the "clever" work of activists. She was in a hurry to find Alicia, who for some reason was not answering her phone.

Ma.s.sie picked up her pace and raced even faster. All she had to do was confirm that Cam liked her as more than a friend so she could finally start getting some of that valuable "experience with boys" Alicia had been bragging about lately. But Alicia was nowhere to be found.

After ten frantic minutes Ma.s.sie decided to put her search on hold. She didn't want to be late for the FIT (Fas.h.i.+on Inspiration Trip) of the day or she would miss the chance to see Cynthia Rowley's design studio. Ma.s.sie ran outside to the parking lot and charged onto the bus. It smelled like leftover tuna sandwiches.

Ma.s.sie quickly made her way toward Kristen.

Her old denim skirt had bunched up around her legs and she quickly straightened it out when no one was looking. The suede pocket she had sewn on that morning was holding up nicely. She got six compliments on it. She'd even made up a few fake Web site names when people asked where she bought it. Only she she knew the pockets were pieces of the skirt Todd soaked with grape juice. knew the pockets were pieces of the skirt Todd soaked with grape juice.

"Kristen," Ma.s.sie panted. "Do you know where Alicia is? She's not answering her phone."

"No." Kristen checked her Coach watch, just like she always did when she was asked a question she couldn't answer. "I don't think she's back from the sample sale yet."

"Didn't she go at like eight in the morning?"

"Yeah, but Olivia wasn't in math, so I guess they're still in the city, looking for uniform ideas," Kristen said.

"She went into the city with Olivia? Olivia?" Ma.s.sie asked.

"Yeah, I thought you knew that."

Ma.s.sie shook her head.

Everything around her felt still and a rush of heat burst through her body like fireworks exploding. She usually knew where Alicia was at all times. Now the only thing she knew was that she didn't know anything.

Even though her ears were ringing, Ma.s.sie heard a frantic voice say, "Has anyone seen Ma.s.sie Block?" The voice sounded really upset. "It's an emergency."

Ma.s.sie could not believe that she was seconds away from dealing with an "emergency."

"This year sucks," she said to Kristen.

"Yeah, well, it's about to get worse," Kristen said. "Look who it is."

"You're not going to believe this." Claire stopped in front of Ma.s.sie's seat. She didn't seem to mind that everyone was waiting for her to get off the bus so they could leave.

"What?" Ma.s.sie rolled her eyes and tried to look bored. She stole a quick glance at herself in the rearview mirror. She looked good and was glad she had applied a fresh coat of gloss before she got there.

"Our uniforms are gone!" Claire cried. A bubble of saliva formed between her lips when she spoke.

"What do you mean, gone? gone?" Ma.s.sie pulled Claire into an empty seat so they could have some privacy.

"IwantedtoshowmyuniformtomymomthismorningsoIwenttogetmytrashbagand-"

"Slow down," Ma.s.sie snapped. "I can't understand you."

"Inez threw them out! She thought they were trash."

"What? NO! Why?"

"'Cause they were in trash bags!" Claire shouted. "Remember, you didn't trust me. You thought I would peek at your masterpiece. Well, now your masterpiece is probably on its way to a furnace to in Peekskill burn up."

Ma.s.sie caught herself wondering how Claire, a girl from Orlando, knew that trash in Westchester went to a furnace in Peekskill, but she was too upset to ask.

Her chance to become famous for leading a style revolution at OCD was gone.

Ma.s.sie suddenly felt sorry for the white tennis skirt she spent half the night sewing. It was probably in the back of a smelly trash truck buried in rotten eggs and poo-covered diapers, wondering how it got there. The more she thought about it, the more Ma.s.sie felt sad for everyone: her mother, who took her shopping after school for the material; her proud father, who couldn't wait to see his daughter's masterpiece; Bean, who sacrificed her nightly walk; and even her mannequin, which stood by her all night while she worked. She considered feeling sorry for Claire, but there just wasn't room. She was full.

Claire sniffed and wiped her palm across her moist nose. "It was the first thing I ever made. And it was pretty good."

"Well, I was on my way to making history," Ma.s.sie said, as if her loss was ten times bigger than Claire's.

"You sew pretty fast," Claire said. "You could probably get something together by Sat.u.r.day night."

"That's in four days! Do I look look like I'm from Moscow?" like I'm from Moscow?"

"No."

"Then why do you think I'd be into Russian?"

Claire laughed. Ma.s.sie smiled back. She had tried the joke before on Dylan and Kristen and they didn't get it.

"Maybe if we do it together, we could-"

"Not a chance," Ma.s.sie interrupted. "I want to go down in history alone."

"Hmmm," Claire said.

"What?" Ma.s.sie gathered her hair in a ponytail and then let it drop back to her shoulders.

"I was just thinking. Nah, forget it. You'd never go for it."

"WHAT?" Ma.s.sie snapped.

"Wouldn't you love to stand onstage in front of the Teen People Teen People editors in a brand-new outfit when you present the school with your, I mean editors in a brand-new outfit when you present the school with your, I mean our, our, new creation?" new creation?"

"Kuh-laire, I am so not doing this with-" Ma.s.sie paused. She leaned closer and whispered, "Are you saying you'll call off the bet if I let you partner with me?" I am so not doing this with-" Ma.s.sie paused. She leaned closer and whispered, "Are you saying you'll call off the bet if I let you partner with me?"

Just then Ma.s.sie noticed Claire was a full inch taller than she was. She looked down at her feet and noticed the girl was wearing a pair of high-heeled black Capezio dance shoes with white sweat socks. white sweat socks. At that moment Ma.s.sie actually found herself missing the Keds. At that moment Ma.s.sie actually found herself missing the Keds.

"Yup," Claire said. "The bet will be over." She s.h.i.+fted her weight from her left foot to her right. "But you'd have to really really partner with me this time. Not like you did for the Halloween party. This time you have to partner with me this time. Not like you did for the Halloween party. This time you have to mean mean it." it."

"Hmmm." Ma.s.sie tapped her French-manicured finger-nail against her bottom lip. "Let. Me. See."

Claire let out an impatient sigh.

"'Kay, I'll do it!"

Claire's face lit up.

"But I'm only doing this for fas.h.i.+on," Ma.s.sie added. "And for our mothers, of course."

"Really?" Claire turned on her high heels and made her way toward the front of the bus. "'Cause I'm doing it to win."

Claire pushed her way through the aisle and bounced down the steps of the bus. She ran all the way back to cla.s.s on her tiptoes to keep from spraining her ankle. Her blond hair whipped across her face, but she never stopped to fix or tie it back. She didn't seem to care.

Ma.s.sie watched Claire at that moment as if it were the first time she had ever seen her. And in a way, it was.

THE BLOCK ESTATE.

FRONT LAWN.

3:58 PM PM.

November 6th Todd Lyons bolted off the Briarwood Academy bus in a flurry of flying juice boxes. He picked one up off the ground and whipped it back on the bus before the driver could get the door closed.

"That's for you, d.i.c.k," Todd said. He was doubled over, laughing.

"My name is Richard!"

Ma.s.sie watched the bus pull away from behind a thick oak on her front lawn. She had been walking Bean and was in no mood to see Todd. She'd taken cover behind the tree and decided to wait there until he was inside the house.

He walked up the driveway, kicking the white stones beneath his feet with every step. The sound made Bean jumpy.

"Shhh." She covered the dog's mouth with her hand.

Todd was almost at the house when the bus pulled up again. It hissed when it stopped and screeched when the doors opened. Someone was getting off.

"Hey, Todd, wait up."

Ma.s.sie poked her head out from the side of the tree to see who it was.

"TODD!"

"Cam?" Ma.s.sie said to Bean. "EhmaG.o.d."

Cam ran up the driveway toward Todd and the two stopped and talked. Ma.s.sie darted behind another tree, hoping to get closer so she could hear what they were saying. There was enough gra.s.s between her and Cam to do at least twenty cartwheels. She couldn't make out a single word. She couldn't smell his Drakkar Noir, couldn't look into his blue or green eye, and couldn't tell what kind of sweater he was wearing under his leather jacket. All she knew for sure was that his skinny b.u.t.t looked ah-dorable ah-dorable in his dark wash Diesel jeans. in his dark wash Diesel jeans.

She watched Cam tilt his shoulder so his green canvas messenger bag could slide off and fall to the ground. He dropped into a squat and fished around inside until he found what he was looking for: a CD-shaped case wrapped in what looked like a bunch of rubber bands. He pulled it out and handed it to Todd, who put it in his knapsack immediately.

Cam gave Todd two friendly slaps on the shoulder and ran toward the street. Todd stood and waved goodbye, looking just as smitten as Ma.s.sie did.

She waited until Cam was halfway down the block before she jumped out from behind the tree. "Todd," Ma.s.sie shouted. "How was your day?"