Revenge of the Wannabes Read online

  “Who are you talking to?” Kristen said as she pulled open the sliding glass door.

  “No one.” Massie’s face turned red.

  “Heyyy.” Dylan and Kristen scurried over to hug Massie.

  “Did we come to the right place?” Dylan said, looking around. “The barn looks totally different.”

  “How much did this whole thing cost?” Kristen looked at the free weights, exercise machines, balls, ropes, and mats strategically placed around the room. She slowly moved toward the row of plasma TVs that hung above each of the four cardio machines as if she were in awe of their beauty. “Seriously, how much?”

  “I dunno, like a million dollars or something; who cares?” Massie said, waiting for them to apologize for keeping her waiting.

  “Dylan told me to ask,” Kristen said.

  “I did not,” Dylan snapped.

  Kristen laughed her phlegmy laugh, then Massie joined in. She forgot all about how late they were. Nothing made her happier than laughing with her friends and she didn’t want to waste another minute of their sleepover being mad.

  Massie noticed Dylan staring at the mural. “Why were you talking to her in the halls the other day? It’s like you miss her or something.”

  “Please.” Dylan sat down on her sleeping bag and unwrapped the chocolate on her pillow. She popped it in her mouth and continued speaking. “I miss my retainer more than I miss her.”

  Kristen lay beside her. She pulled open her A&F overnight bag and took out a book of crossword puzzles, a Bic pen, and a mini-flashlight. She placed them on the floor beside her. “Yeah, and I miss the T. J. Maxx cardigan my mother makes me wear to school more than I miss her.”

  “So what were you talking about?” Massie crouched down and stuck her thumbnail into her chocolate.

  “We told you a billion times,” Kristen said. “She was bragging about some date she had with Harris Fisher, like that was supposed to impress us.”

  “Yeah, try going out with a guy in our grade,” Dylan said, peeling the silver wrapper off a Hershey’s Kiss. “Now, that would impress me.”

  “Puh-lease. She’s not really hanging out with Harris,” Massie said, passing around a vase of licorice. “Is she?”

  “She’s going over there tonight,” Dylan said. “Or at least that’s what she said. We all know what a liar she is.”

  “Besides, if Harris is hanging out with Alicia, it’s probably because he knows he can’t get you,” Kristen said.

  “Too true.” Massie slapped her thigh with a Twizzler. “I’m over those Fisher boys, especially Cam.”

  “Whaddaya mean?” Kristen said, sitting up on her knees.

  “Well, it’s a secret.” Massie tore her licorice into tiny pieces.

  “About who?” Dylan reached for the chocolate on Kristen’s pillow. She unwrapped it without taking her eyes off Massie.

  “Me.” Massie lowered her eyes. So far, her plan was working perfectly.

  “Ooohhh, tell us.” Dylan’s green eyes widened and her cheeks turned the color of her hair. Massie thought her friend looked pretty and almost felt guilty for manipulating her. But she was in the middle of a war.

  “I can’t,” Massie said. “It’s personal.”

  “Eight-letter swearword for bull crap, please.” Kristen pounded her fist on the floor. “I thought we told each other everything.”

  “Yeah, well, this is different.”

  “Why don’t you trust us?” Dylan asked.

  “Ever since Alicia betrayed me, I don’t trust anyone,” Massie said. “And now that I know you’re talking to her, I really can’t trust you.”

  “We’re not talking to her,” Kristen insisted.

  Massie ignored her and continued. “Alicia is a gossip master. If anyone could get you to talk, it would be her. And if she knew my secret, I’d be so over.” Massie shook her head. “No. No way, I can’t.”

  “Oh, please, we’ll do anything,” Dylan said.

  “Hmmm.” Massie scratched her head. “Well, I guess if you told me your deepest, darkest secrets, I could trust you.”

  “Okay,” Dylan said without even thinking about it. “Tell us everything—don’t leave one thing out.” She lay facedown on her sleeping bag and propped herself up on her elbows.

  Kristen did the same.

  “No way,” said Massie. “You first.”

  “I dunno, mine is really top secret,” Kristen said, twirling one of her blond braids around her finger. “What if you tell?”

  “You have my word that as long as we are friends, I will never tell.” Massie held out her pinky.

  “But what if we stop being friends?” Dylan chimed in. “Are you going to tell then?”

  “I guess this means we’ll have to stay best friends forever,” Massie said.

  “Done,” Kristen said.

  “Yeah, done,” Dylan agreed.

  “Okay,” Massie said, holding out her pinky. “I, Massie Block, swear that as long as we are friends, I will never repeat what I am about to hear to any soul, living or dead. Not even for gossip points.”

  Kristen and Dylan repeated the pledge and the three girls locked pinkies. Massie breathed a sign of relief. Now her friends would never leave her for Alicia or anyone else. Never.

  Massie leaned over and grabbed Kristen’s pen and book of crossword puzzles. She tore a page out of the book and pulled off the blue pen cap with her teeth.

  “Hey,” Kristen snapped. “What are you doing?”

  “We’ll draw names to see who goes first,” Massie said. She wrote Kristen’s name twice and Dylan’s once. Massie was willing to share her secret; she just didn’t want to go first. She crumpled up the three pieces of paper and put them in her palm. She held it out for Kristen. “You pick.”

  Kristen reached out her fingers, plucked up a ball of paper, and quickly opened it. “Ugh, I got me!”

  Massie closed her fist and rolled onto her stomach. “Go ahead.”

  Kristen sat up and crossed her legs. “I don’t really have anything.”

  “Forget it, then,” Massie said.

  “Okay, wait, now that I think about it, there’s this one thing. …”

  Kristen’s aqua eyes searched their faces. “You swear you’re not going to tell?”

  “Swear,” Massie and Dylan said at the same time.

  She sighed heavily, then began. “’Kay, well, you know how you pick me up every morning at the Montador for carpool?”

  “Yeah,” Massie said. Her heart started to pick up speed.

  “Well. I. Kinda. Don’t. Really. Live. There.” Kristen spoke slowly, checking their faces after each word.

  “Huh?” Dylan said.

  “I live next door in the Brickview Apartments.”

  “Ew, why?”

  “We’re poor.”

  Bean buried her face in her paws.

  Massie didn’t know what to say next and wished she had turned on the stereo before they started. Was Kristen making this up? She looked at Dylan to see her reaction.

  “I shouldn’t have told you,” Kristen said, rolling onto her stomach. She pulled her pillow over her face and kicked her legs.

  “Yes, you should have,” Massie said as she processed the news. Everything suddenly started to make sense: the after-school job, the obsession with money, the lack of designer clothes. … “Wait, I thought your dad was a famous art dealer.”

  “He was,” Kristen said into the pillow. “Heostllfhismoney-aewyearsoverore.”

  “What?” Dylan ripped the pillow away from Kristen’s face.

  “I said …” Kristen wiped her eyes. “He lost all of his money a few years ago. That’s why I’ve never invited you guys over before.”

  “I always wondered about that,” Massie said. “I just thought your parents were too uptight.”

  “Well, they are.” Kristen looked at her fingers. “But that’s not why I never had you over.”

  “How can you afford OCD?” Massie asked.

  “Scholarship,�
�� Kristen said. “Why do you think I’m always studying?”

  “I just thought you were a geek,” Massie said.

  Kristen let out a small phlegmy chuckle. “You know the OCD benefit at your house every year?”

  Massie nodded, afraid of what she might hear next.

  “Last year the money went to me,” Kristen said.

  “No way, that’s so cool,” Massie said.

  “I can’t believe no one knows this but us,” Dylan said.

  “Actually, Claire knows,” said Kristen.

  “Kuh-laire?” Now Massie was really shocked. “She knows one of your secrets before I do?” Massie felt dizzy. She stood up and walked to the fridge to get some Perrier.

  Kristen stood up and followed her. “I thought I was telling you one night when we were IM’ing, but it was the time Claire got on your computer, so—”

  “And she never told anyone?” Massie said, yanking open the fridge door.

  “Nope,” Kristen said. “Not a soul.”

  “What an idiot—you know how many gossip points she could have scored?” Dylan said, walking toward them.

  Kristen put her hands on her hips and glared at Dylan.

  “Kidding.” Dylan pushed past Massie and grabbed a virgin piña colada out of the fridge.

  “Claire was really cool about it,” Kristen added.

  “Impressive,” Massie said with a distant smile. She turned back to Kristen and held out her arms for a hug. “Great secret, Kristen; you have our trust.”

  Kristen hugged Massie back.

  “My clothes are your clothes.”

  Dylan put down her frothy drink and joined them. “Yeah, and I’ll totally give you half of my allowance.”

  “I’m not third world.” Kristen cackled, then wiped her eyes. “But thanks.” She pulled out of the group hug. “Okay, who’s next?”

  “I’ll pick the next name,” Massie said. She made a show of mixing the remaining two pieces of paper by shaking them around in her hand like a pair of dice. Finally she stopped and read one. “Dylan.”

  “’Kay.” Dylan sat down on one of the white leather stools at the juice bar. She tapped her nails on the marble countertop a few times before she spoke.

  “Come on,” Kristen urged.

  “I’m thinking!” Dylan said. She took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly before she finally spoke. “Okay, so you know how I told you my mother is taking me and my sisters to St. Bart’s tomorrow?”

  “Yeah,” Kristen said.

  Massie was too excited to speak.

  “Well, she’s really sending me to St. Barf’s.” Dylan pulled the cherry out of her piña colada and bit off the stem.

  “That fat camp in upstate New York?” Massie asked.

  “Yup,” Dylan admitted. “I forget the real name; it’s something like St. Bartholomew’s. But whatever it’s called, it’s supposed to be good. Half of the guests on my mom’s show have been there.”

  “Why are you going?” Kristen said.

  “My mom doesn’t think I have the self-control to stick to my diet.”

  “I didn’t know you were on a new diet,” Massie said.

  Dylan rubbed the cherry stem between her thumb and index finger. “I guess that’s her point.”

  “Well, you look beautiful to us,” Massie said, drawing Dylan into another group hug. “Dieting is hard. You think I have an easy time staying away from sugar? I swear I don’t know how Claire stays so thin.”

  “I bet her poop is shaped like a gummy bear,” Kristen said, then cackled at her own joke. Massie and Dylan laughed too.

  “We love you, no matter how fat you are,” Massie said before their next group hug.

  “Thanks, you guys.” Dylan wiped her runny nose on Massie’s shoulder. “I guess the cool part is my mom told me if I lose ten pounds, she’ll get me a nose job.”

  Massie looked at Dylan’s tiny button nose. “You want a nose job?”

  “Nah,” Dylan said. “She’s just trying to be nice.”

  “Cool.” Massie clapped. “Now who wants some Rice Krispie Treats? I iced them myself.”

  “Wait, what about your secret?” Kristen narrowed her eyes.

  “Oops, I totally forgot.” Massie knew she’d never get away with it but loved herself for trying. “Thanks for reminding me.” She paused. “This goes to the grave, right?”

  “YES!” Dylan and Kristen shouted.

  Massie picked her nails, trying to look nervous. “My secret is that Alicia was right. I had a crush on Cam Fisher.” She raised her eyes and looked at their faces. They looked anxious to hear more.

  “Yeah,” Dylan said. “And?”

  “And it started at my boy-girl Halloween party and kept going past the OCD fashion show. We e-mailed for a while and I thought he was sweet, but when I found out Claire liked him, I gave up.”

  “What? Why?” Dylan said.

  “Uh, because I knew I could find someone else and Claire probably couldn’t.”

  “That is sooo sweet of you,” Kristen said, and then paused. “Wait, why did you tell her that he was an EW and that she should break up with him? Is it because you realized you were hopelessly infatuated with him and you couldn’t bear to see him love another?”

  Massie forgot they had witnessed that and had to think fast.

  “NO, I told her that because I realized he was a total Harris wannabe and I was trying to protect her. By that time I was totally over him anyway.”

  “Oh,” Kristen said.

  Massie hoped to God that answer satisfied her. “Group hug?”

  “You may have a broken heart, but it’s made of gold,” Dylan exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around Massie.

  “You’re the best friend anyone could ever have,” Kristen said as she joined them.

  Suddenly Massie heard someone walking in the dried leaves outside the barn.

  “What was that?” Dylan hissed.

  “Is someone listening?” said Kristen. “I’ll die if anyone heard I’m poor.”

  “I bet it’s Claire,” Dylan said. “I mean, can we completely trust her?”

  “Yes,” Kristen and Massie said at the same time.

  “Well, you never know,” Dylan said.

  “It was probably just Bean,” Massie said, looking at the doggie door.

  “Wearing boots?”

  Massie felt her insides freeze when she thought of their secrets falling into the wrong hands.

  “I’m positive,” Massie said, trying to stay strong for the others. Unsure of what to do next, she walked over to her sleeping bag and sat down. She felt a little dizzy and slightly nauseous.

  “Ehmagawd,” Massie gasped. Bean was sound asleep on her pillow.

  “What is it?” Kristen shouted.

  “Nothing, stay there, it’s okay,” she said, covering Bean with a cashmere blanket. “I thought I saw a mouse, but it was just my cell phone.”

  Massie hung her head between her knees and prayed for the sick feeling in her stomach to pass.

  THE BLOCK ESTATE DRIVEWAY

  8:45 PM

  November 21st

  The tires on Claire’s green bike crunched over the gravel as she rolled it down the Blocks’ driveway. She stopped every few steps, held her breath, and listened, just to make sure Massie, Kristen, and Dylan didn’t hear her. She didn’t want them to know she was sneaking off to Cam’s with Alicia. They’d call her a FEW (Friend of Eternal Wannabes) and that would be the end of their friendship, which had only just begun.

  When she made it safely to the street, Claire threw her leg over the middle bar and plopped down on the black padded seat. The jeans Alicia lent her were too tight and Claire could feel the button digging into her stomach. She’d called Alicia to tell her they were too small, but Alicia insisted she wear them anyway.

  “Guys love tight jeans,” she told Claire. “Trust me.”

  But these days Claire had no idea who to trust. …

  Was Massie really looking out for Claire by te
lling her to stay away from Cam? Or was Alicia right? Was Massie just jealous? Claire shook the questions from her head and hoped the answers would come soon. She was about to face Cam and still had no idea what to tell him.

  Claire flicked on her bike light and pedaled as fast as she could, trying to ignore the cold winter wind that bit her ears and stung her hands. She’d thought about bringing a hat but didn’t want her bangs to be pressed against her forehead when she saw Cam.

  At the corner of Holly and Rutherford, Claire slammed on her brakes and waited for Alicia under the streetlight. They’d promised to meet a block away from the Fishers’ house so they could show up together.

  The wind whistled as it snaked around the naked tree branches above her, and the chimes on the front porch of 50 Holly started clanging like they did in horror movies, right before someone got stabbed. Claire bit her nails and searched the street for Alicia. …

  Suddenly Claire heard a “pssst.” Or at least she thought she did. She didn’t want to turn around suddenly, afraid of what she might see.

  “Claire,” the voice whispered again. “Sorry I’m late.”

  Alicia appeared under the yellow light on a brand-new vintage-looking Schwinn. The red-and-silver bike looked thick and heavy, like something kids from the 1950s rode on paper routes. But because Alicia was on it, it looked cool.

  “Why are you whispering?” Claire asked, not realizing she was whispering too.

  “I have no idea.” Alicia laughed.

  Claire giggled nervously.

  “Where’s your hat?” Alicia pulled the white cashmere cap off her head and stuffed it in her bag. It had looked beautiful against her dark complexion, but Claire knew exactly why it had to go.

  “I didn’t want it to mess up my hair.” Claire rolled her eyes, fully aware of how girly and silly she sounded.

  “That’s why I brought these.” Alicia pulled out a wood brush and a black-and-white art deco compact. She brushed her hair and the sweet smell of green apple conditioner filled the air. It mixed with her Angel perfume and completely canceled out Claire’s new kiwi oil from the Body Shop.

  “You want?” Alicia held out the brush and mirror.

  Claire took them and brushed her bangs. The metal bristles scratched against her forehead, but she ignored the pain.