Claire Read online

  Copyright © 2008 by Alloy Entertainment

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Poppy

  Little, Brown and Company

  Hachette Book Group

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  “Don’t Stop the Music” by Knicia Twanna Dabney, Mikkel Storleer Eriksen, Tor Erik Hermansen, Michael Joe Jackson, Frankie Storm (Dabney Music Publishing, Mijac Music, EMI April Music Inc., Sony/ATV Tunes, LLC). All rights reserved.

  “Get the Party Started” by Linda Perry (Sony/ATV Harmony, Stuck in the Throat). All rights reserved.

  “Lucky” by Alexander Erik Kronlund, Martin Karl Sandberg, Rami Yacoub (Universal Music—Z Tunes LLC, Universal Polygram International). All rights reserved.

  “Shake It Up Baby” aka “Twist and Shout” by Phil Medley, Bert Russell (Screen Gems—EMI Music, Inc., Sloopy II Music, Sony/ATV Songs LLC, Unichappel Music Inc.). All rights reserved.

  “What I Did for Love” by Marvin Hamlisch, Edward Lawrence Kleban (Sony ATV Harmony, Wren Music Co Inc.). All rights reserved.

  First eBook Edition: August 2008

  The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover design by Andrea C. Uva

  Cover photos by Roger Moenks

  Author photo by Gillian Crane

  Produced by Alloy Entertainment

  151 West 26th Street, New York, NY 10001

  ISBN: 978-0-316-03288-9

  Contents

  18 Gator Road, Kissimmee, FL

  577 Peach Willow Drive, Kissimmee, FL

  Kissimmee Value Outlet Shops, Kissimmee, FL

  The Lyonses’ House, Kissimmee, FL

  Dipper Dan’s Ice Cream Emporium, Kissimmee, FL

  City Hall, Kissimmee, FL

  The Lyonses’ House, Kissimmee, FL

  Claire’s Bedroom, Kissimmee, FL

  Claire’s Bedroom, Kissimmee, FL

  The Lyonses’ Kitchen, Kissimmee, FL

  Toho Square, Historic Downtown Kissimmee

  Saks Fifth Avenue 7687 N. Kendall Drive, Miami, FL

  The Lyonses’ House, Kissimmee, FL

  Toho Square, Pageant Day!!!!!

  Toho Square, Historic Downtown Kissimmee

  Toho Square, Historic Downtown Kissimmee

  Toho Square, Historic Downtown Kissimmee

  Toho Square, Historic Downtown Kissimmee

  The Lyonses’ House, Kissimmee, FL

  Toho Square, Historic Downtown Kissimmee

  CLIQUE novels by Lisi Harrison:

  THE CLIQUE

  BEST FRIENDS FOR NEVER

  REVENGE OF THE WANNABES

  INVASION OF THE BOY SNATCHERS

  THE PRETTY COMMITTEE STRIKES BACK

  DIAL L FOR LOSER

  IT’S NOT EASY BEING MEAN

  SEALED WITH A DISS

  BRATFEST AT TIFFANY’S

  THE CLIQUE SUMMER COLLECTION:

  MASSIE

  DYLAN

  ALICIA

  KRISTEN

  CLAIRE

  For the Pretty Committee:

  Thanks for a great summer!

  18 GATOR ROAD

  KISSIMMEE, FL

  Sunday, August 2 2:03 P.M.

  “Hey, sweetheaaaa’t, can ya move a little faster? Mrs. Wilkes wants her plants watered by three and she’s seven blocks away.” Todd Lyons stretched out on the yellow terry cloth–covered chaise and folded his hands behind his head. His DON’T CHA WISH YOUR BOYFRIEND WAS HOT LIKE ME? T-shirt lay in a heap on the deck, and a swim coach’s whistle necklace dangled above his gray, shark-covered swim trunks.

  “I can’t go to Mrs. Wilkes’s.” Claire skimmed the surface of the drowned bug–infested pool with a net. “I told you that last week.” She wiped her beading forehead with the back of her hand, then dried it on her turquoise Gap drawstring shorts, her gray tank already too sweaty and no longer an option.

  “I’ll have to dock your pay.” Todd unscrewed the top off a tube of zinc oxide and smeared the thick white cream all over his freckly cheeks. Combined with his shock of overgrown red hair and the yellow chaise, this made him look like a ten-year-old Ronald McDonald. But as a boss he was more like Jerk-in-the-Box.

  “Whatevs.” Claire skimmed the pool one last time, then dropped the long pole. It fell to the cement deck with a resounding clang. If she was going to be docked, why not leave now? That way she could shower before her long-awaited reunion with her FBFFs (Florida BFFs) and style her hair with the cute flips on the bottom, the way Massie taught her.

  Puuuuurp!

  Todd blew his whistle. “Watch the attitude,” he warned, his eyes closed and lifted to the sun. “And don’t forget, Piper is booked for a walk and shampoo tomorrow morning at eight.”

  “I know.” Claire pulled the bobby pin out of her hair and shook her long bangs loose. It was times like these when she wondered if working for her brother was worth it. But her goal was to earn enough money for a Massie-approved back-to-school wardrobe—or at least a cool pair of jeans—and so far, Todd was the only person in town willing to hire a twelve-year-old.

  Maybe now that Sarah, Sari, and Mandy were finally back from sleepover camp, working for T-Odd Jobs, Inc. would stop sucking so much. Not that car washing, gardening, pool cleaning, dog walking, and bird sitting would suddenly become fun. Or that depending on her younger brother for a paycheck would become less pathetic. Or that doing all the work while he barked orders from the sidelines would become less humiliating. But with the girls around, life off the clock would be filled with side-splitting laughter, DIY crafts, and sugary snacks.

  And it was about time.

  Claire had waited all summer for summer to start. And with only four weeks left before her parents sold the house and moved everyone back to Westchester, she didn’t want to waste another second.

  Pedaling down Cherry Street on her old black and pink turbo Powerpuff Girls bike, Claire breathed in the citrus-scented air. She had missed the palm trees and orange trees over the last year. She had craved the thick, hot air that warmed her like one of Massie’s old pashminas. And she loved making a wish every time a speedy little lizard zipped past her bare feet. As much as she’d grown to appreciate life in Westchester, Kissimmee was still home. And with the return of Sarah, Sari, and Mandy, it would finally start feeling like it.

  Claire turned up the driveway of her soon to be ex–sky blue split-level ranch house, where three Razor scooters were lying on the grassy lawn beside the SOLD sign.

  “Ehmagosh!” She jumped off her bike. It slammed to the ground, wheels still spinning.

  “Ahhhhhh,” shouted three girls from Claire’s open bedroom window.

  “Ahhhhh,” Claire shouted back as she threw open the front door, bolted by her father, and took the peach-carpeted stairs two at a time. “You’re early!” she called, silently telling herself not to worry about her toxic pits and limp hair. It wasn’t the Pretty Committee on the other side of her Hello Kitty sticker–covered door. These were her down-to-earth, wear-the-same-pair-of-socks-three-days-in-a-row sisters. She’d never cared about her looks before. . . .

  Still, a little effort might be nice.

  After a quick extra-spitty lip lick (poor-girl’s gloss) and a speedy cheek pinch (PG’s blush), Claire barged into her lemon yellow bedroom, her bare feet sinking into the white shag. To honor her friends’ return, she’d salted the carpet with each of their glitter colo
rs; blue for Mandy, pink for Sari, orange for Sarah, and green for herself. It looked like the entire Orange Bowl parade had melted on her floor.

  “CLAIRE-BEAR!” The girls rushed toward her for a group hug, but Claire kept her arms pinned to her sides. It was either that or get nicknamed Bad Pitt by Massie, should word somehow get back to New York.

  “Why so stiff?” Mandy pulled away, her thick dark eyebrows more noticeable than they had been a year ago.

  “Is that a Westchester thing? Because I heard people are colder up there. No pun intended. Well, maybe a little pun intended. But when I say colder I mean emotionally. Not weatherwise. Even though weatherwise it’s coooold.” Sari fake-shivered, her thin upper lip disappearing against her slightly buckteeth.

  “Maybe it’s a New York tr-eeeend?” Sarah shimmied like a limbo dancer preparing to slip under the pole but looked more like someone who had taken muscle relaxants in a windstorm.

  Claire smiled warmly. Mandy still refused to pluck her hairy eye visors! Sari still rambled when she was excited! And Sarah still had no rhythm! Like an old song that brings back memories of a long-forgotten crush, these quirky traits brought Claire back to that place she was just before she moved. A place where gloss was saved for class photos, blush was for Halloween, and body odor was perfectly natural.

  “None of the above. I just have a little BO.” Claire giggled.

  “More like MO.” Mandy lifted her long, thin arm and pointed at Claire’s daisy fabric–covered twin headboard. The cheery white and green floral print had been poked with pushpins that held dozens of Pretty Committee photos. Shots of the girls lying on sleeping bags, piling in the back of the Range Rover, cheering at soccer games, carving the Chanel logo out of snow, dangling tuna sashimi from their mouths, latte-toasting at Sixbucks, flying on the Gelding Studios private jet to Hollywood, and several Vogue poses with the Massie-quin were all on display.

  “What’s MO?” Claire asked, half smiling, half fearing the answer.

  “Moved On.” Mandy pouted, her turned-out bottom lip looking extra pink against her ever-pale skin.

  Claire’s white blond eyelashes fluttered in confusion.

  “Or Massie Obsession.” Sari twirled her long blond hair, something she always did when goading someone.

  “Or Meeee-Owwww,” Claire purred like Catwoman, desperate to put an end to their teasing. Not because she couldn’t take it, but because it forced her to consider the truth behind it, which she was nawt ready to do. Wasn’t it possible to like both sets of friends equally?

  “Or Making Out!” Sarah lifted the one photo that was facing backward, kissed it, and then buried it in her mess of short, dirty blond curls. But Claire still managed to catch a forbidden glimpse of her ex-crush Cam Fisher winking his green eye.

  At the beginning of the summer, when she’d hung the picture, Claire had made a pact with herself not to look at it until Cam responded to one of the six I’m-sorry-for-spying-on-you-through-the-secret-camera-that-was-planted-in-your-sensitivity-training-class-and-I-will-never-do-anything-like-that-again-if-you-give-me-a-second-chance letters she’d sent him at summer camp. Now it was almost eight weeks later, and her mailbox was just as empty as her heart.

  Seeing him now, even for a second, conjured the rich woodsy smell of his Drakkar Noir cologne and the heaviness that came with missing him. The sudden sensation was dizzying. Claire lowered herself onto the edge of her bed and sighed with the old squeaky springs, leaking joy like a punctured balloon.

  Sarah sat gently beside her. “We’re only kidding, Claire-Bear.” Her sea foam green gauze pants scratched the side of Claire’s thigh.

  Sari sat too, covering her bony knees with her pink TJ Maxx sundress. “We just missed you. And these pictures prove you replaced us.”

  “I didn’t replace you!” Claire stood. “You should see my computer. You guys are my screen saver and my wallpaper.”

  “Wow, both?” Mandy twirled her fingers in the air like a plate-spinner without plates. But more than the biting sarcasm, Claire noticed the black hair on her friend’s arm. Maybe it wouldn’t be as noticeable with a tan . . . or a sleeve. Anything other than a dishwater gray tank dress would have been a step in the right direction.

  “Thank gosh Dial L for Loser was a flop or we would have lost you forever!” Sarah pulled the picture of Cam out of her hair and pinned it back to the headboard, facing forward this time.

  “Opposite of true!” Claire blurted, stealing one of Alicia’s lines.

  “Whaddaya mean?” Sari play-smacked Claire’s arm. “It tanked.”

  Claire burst out laughing. “I mean the part about losing me was opposite of true. I know the movie tanked.”

  They all cracked up a little more than necessary. And Claire couldn’t help wondering if it was a way for them to release the stress that had been building up inside each one of them over the last year. Stress that came from constantly wondering if your best friend had found someone better.

  But as they slapped the daisy-covered bed and wiped the giggle-tears from their eyes, the answer was obvious. They were getting their groove back. And things would stay that way, as long as Claire could show them that Massie and the Pretty Committee hadn’t changed her a bit. Which wouldn’t be too hard, right?

  577 PEACH WILLOW DRIVE

  KISSIMMEE, FL

  Monday, August 3 8:09 A.M.

  The giant thermometer screwed to the side of Mrs. VanDeusen’s screen door read eighty-three degrees. Still, the old woman’s petite white Chihuahua was shivering like he had just pioneered a night trek through the Himalayas.

  Next door, a beige garage door groaned open, allowing a matching beige minivan to reverse down the smooth black driveway.

  “I know how you feel, Piper.” Claire knelt on the grassy front yard at the end of a Fisher Price–littered cul-de-sac. She lifted the frail puppy. His ribs were one missed meal away from total exposure. “I shook like that in Westchester. Mostly from the cold, but partly from the people.” She giggled softly.

  Piper blinked his bulging black eyes and licked Claire’s cheek sympathetically.

  “Awwww, thanks.” She hugged the pup. “But you don’t have to worry about me.” Gently, she placed him on the warm pavement and wrapped the leopard-print leash around her wrist. “I’ve adapted.”

  Inside the minivan two girls, both younger than Claire, pointed at her and laughed. They were probably wondering if she was really talking to a dog.

  With a light tug, Claire let Piper know it was time to move. Piper responded with a soft sneeze and a lively prance.

  The thirty-minute walk paid thirteen dollars: seven to T-Odd Jobs, Inc., and the remaining six to Claire. Instead of feeling bitter about the inequitable split, she tried to put the time to good use by taking photos. The topic of the day was always the same: Things I’ll miss when I’m back in Westchester. Whenever Piper stopped to sniff a flower or lick a flattened piece of street gum, Claire grabbed the Canon Elph out of her pear green cargo skirt and searched for things she’d stop seeing come September.

  Two majestic palm trees standing side by side, like life-crushes.

  Click.

  A water rainbow in the Bennetts’ sprinkler.

  Click.

  Her brown and pink polka-dot Keds.

  Click.

  Just then, Claire’s red rhinestone–encrusted special-edition Dial L for Loser cell phone indicated that she had a text.

  Kuh-laire!

  It was Massie’s personalized ringtone. Something she had recorded before they parted ways for the summer. Funny how what had sounded like an insult only a year ago suddenly felt endearing.

  Her hands shaking like Piper’s, Claire turned off the camera. After three days of no messages, an I-miss-u text seemed unlikely.

  She led Piper to a crushed graham cracker on the sidewalk outside the Hobsons’ house and sat on the curb. Once the dog was occupied, Claire inhaled deeply and opened the message.

  Massie: Back 2 skl shopping list. For
PC eyes only. Delete after purchasing.

  ACCEPTABLE JEANS: J Brand, Joe’s, Earnest Sewn, True Religion, Page, William Rast, AG, Rich & Skinny. ACCEPTABLE TOPS: C&C, Vince, DVF, Splendid, L.A.M.B., Theory, Ralph (Alicia!), Ella Moss, Marc, and Juicy. Anything vintage as long as it doesn’t smell like cat pee, moth balls, or old lady.

  FOOTWEAR: Uggs (weekends only), Marc, Michael Kors, Calvin, anything sold on 7th floor of Barneys, no Keds!

  MAKEUP: Must be bought at a DS (that’s department store, not drugstore, Kuh-laire!). Anything by Be Pretty cosmetics is off-limits. They’re dead 2 me.

  ALSO OFF-LIMITS: All things shiny. Shiny is my back-to-school look. Anything purchased before June of this year (except vintage and jewelry.) Don’t buy any silver charm bracelets from Tiffany. . . . You’ll understand why when I see you.

  Text w/questions.

  35 days till we’re 2gether! YAYYYY! TTYL.

  Piper yapped once at a circling bee before swatting at it with his front paw. He missed, then licked the ground where his cracker had been. Claire sighed. Why couldn’t her life be that simple? Instead, she had wasted most of her summer working for Todd. And for what? A grand total of $167.70? Gawsh! The only thing she could afford on Massie’s list was something vintage . . . from the Salvation Army. And maybe the cost of dry cleaning it.

  More than anything, Claire wanted to text Kristen and ask—in total pinky-sworn confidence—how she, being financially challenged as well, could afford the things on the list? But she resisted. What if Kristen told? Reminding Massie that Claire couldn’t keep up might jeopardize her place in the Pretty Committee. And who wanted to start eighth grade off like that? Especially when she was already getting the silent treatment from Cam.

  Instead, Claire texted Massie back using the Visa philosophy of “buy now, pay later.” Or in her case, “lie now, pay later.”

  Off to the mall ASAP! Wish U were here.

  Once the message was sent, Claire bit her longest nail, wondering just how much she’d have to pay.

  Another text.

  Amnesia much? I AM here! Let’s do it!

  Claire’s heart tightened and curled into the fetal position. Here? Massie was here? How was that possible? She re-read the text, hoping to see a “JK.”