Best Friends for Never (10 page)

Claire prayed that her voice was trembling. “How upset do you think they'll be when they find out you've been telling everyone this is
your
party?”

“Why guess?” Massie asked. “Why not tell them right now?”

Claire's insides froze. That was not the answer she was hoping for.

“Fine, I will.” Claire turned and headed down the path toward the main house. She looked down at her patent leather Mary Janes while she walked and prayed for a miracle. She had no idea what to do next, but she marched ahead like a girl with a serious plan.

“Okay, wait,” Massie called after her.

Thank you, God!

“Meet me in the out-of-order bathroom in five minutes. I'll bring over two guys that I think will be perfect for you and Layne.”

“No LBRs,” Claire said. She knew she shouldn't abuse her sudden power over Massie, but it was hard not to. “And no funny business or I'll talk.”

“Done,” Massie said.

As Claire walked back to Layne, she wondered if any boy was actually worth this kind of trouble.

WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER PARTY
OUT-OF-ORDER BATHROOM

8:22
PM

October 31st

The out-of-order bathroom was a tight squeeze for Layne and her oversized costume, so Claire was forced to sit on the toilet seat.

“I can't believe I let you talk me into this,” Layne said.

“You promised.” Claire finger-combed her blond hair and reapplied some clear gloss. “How many guys do you think will be into a girl they met on the toilet?” she asked Layne as she lowered herself onto the cold seat.

“We're being set up.” Layne tried to keep the corners of her costume from scratching the plaid Ralph Lauren wallpaper. “Why would she have us wait in a
bathroom
if she wasn't planning something humiliating?”

“Trust me.” Claire crossed her legs and bit into a Nerds Rope. “She just wanted us to meet her here so no one sees her talking to us in public.”

“Oh,
that's
all.” Layne shook her head. “Great, I feel sooo much better now.”

She adjusted her pillows. “You know, meeting boys in bathrooms is something runaways do. I feel like we're being filmed for some sort of public service announcement.”

They were interrupted by a light tapping on the bathroom door.

“Someone's in here,” Claire shouted.

“No, it's
me,
Massie.”

“Oh, come on in.” Claire jumped to her feet. She was about to pinch her cheeks so she'd have a little color until she remembered her face was covered by a mask.

Massie tried to open the door and it jammed into Layne's costume.

“This is stupid,” Layne snapped as she regained her balance. “I'm leaving.”

She had managed to wiggle past Claire and get halfway out the door when she came face-to-face with two tall, gangly, dark-haired boys. One was surrounded by a chunk of gray foam and the other was in all black with dinner rolls pinned to his clothes.

“I'm Rock,” said the chunk. “And he's Roll.”

“Have a blast,” Massie said. She turned and walked out of the cabana.

“Oh my God, that's hilarious,” Layne said to the rock. She tried to slap her knee, but all she could do was lift her arm half an inch into the air and then lower it. “Can you guess what I am?”

“Of course,” Rock said. “You're a couch potato. I've been watching you try to walk in that thing all night. You must be
fried
.”

Roll cracked up at his friend's potato joke and high-fived him.

“Oh my God,
fried
,” Layne said. “Claire, how funny is that?”

But Claire didn't think it was funny at all. She was more interested in why Massie assumed
she
would be into the garage band type. Layne might be “indie,” but Claire was pure pop.

“I'm Eli,” Rock said to Layne. “And this is Tristan.”

“Hi,” Claire and Layne said at the same time.

“Anyone wanna go for a skate?” Eli asked.

“Totally!” Layne said. “By the way, you rock.”

“Could she be any BOULDER?” Claire said to Tristan, hoping her dorky pun would break the tension between them.

“Huh?” he said.

Claire didn't bother repeating herself. Instead she watched Layne and Eli take off toward the skating rink. She was embarrassed to have positioned herself as the “boy expert” when it took Layne less than ten minutes to meet her indie soul mate. Meanwhile, Claire would rather have been left with her own brother than Tristan.

“Wanna dance?” he asked.

“Uh, sure?” she said. But it came out sounding more like a question than an answer.

Tristan held his hand out to Claire. His nails shimmered with silver polish. They matched the silver sparkles in his blue eyeliner. Claire bent down and pretended to adjust the strap on her Mary Janes to avoid his gesture.

“Where do you get your makeup?” Claire asked once she straightened up.

“My older sister.” Tristan looked proud. “I usually sneak into her room after she leaves for school.”

“Usually?”
Claire asked. “You mean it's not part of your costume?”

Tristan raised one eyebrow and cocked his head.

“When was the last time
you
saw a roll wearing eyeliner?”

Claire searched his face for signs that he might be joking, but he held her gaze.

The DJ put on Pink's “Get the Party Started” and Claire was grateful for the distraction.

“Oh, I love this song,” she said. “Let's go.”

Claire led the way, figuring a dance with Tristan was better than standing alone. But the second they got on the floor, Tristan started flailing around like a mental patient trying to shimmy his way out of a straitjacket. At first she tried to overlook his mania, but once the dinner rolls starting flying off his costume, she found him impossible to ignore.

“What are you doing?” Claire asked.

Claire's moves were more understated than usual. People were
already
staring, and she didn't want to attract any extra attention to herself. The only thing she was grateful for was that Massie wasn't around to witness this spectacle.

“Tristan, if you move any faster, you'll experience time travel,” Claire said.

But he didn't hear her. He was too busy expressing himself. Claire decided no dance was worth this kind of embarrassment. So she backed away to the beat and made a run for the treats table.

WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER PARTY
PITS OF DESPAIR

8:40
PM

October 31st

“I am
dying
for marshmallows,” Massie said to no one in particular. She lowered Bean onto the grass near the pit where Cam, Derrington, and Vader were hanging.

“Me too,” Dylan said.

“Same,” Alicia said.

“Sorry to crash, but this pit is theee best for roasting.” Massie smiled at the boys. “I heard it has something to do with the wind.”

“No problem,” Vader said. He sat up straight and smoothed his gorilla fur.

Massie stuck three marshmallows on the prongs of her pitchfork and held them over the raging bonfire. She was standing between Alicia and Dylan, who were doing the same. They looked like three boys at a urinal.

Derrington, Cam, and their friend Vader sat on blankets below them. They were ripping handfuls of grass out of the ground and staring at the girls' Kiss It undies.

“I love watching a girl do a guy's work,” Derrington said. He lay back and folded his hands behind his head.

His shaggy blond hair and brown eyes made Massie think of a yellow Lab.

“Well, that's what happens when there are no real guys around,” Massie said.

The girls exchanged high fives.

“You're burnt, dude.” Cam laughed. “She got you on that one.” He rolled over, laughing.

Massie fought the smile that started to form on her face. She didn't want Cam to know his approval made her happy, even though it did.

“Shut up.” Derrington pelted a marshmallow at Cam's cheek.

“Owww!” Cam shot one back.

Within seconds all six of them were engaged in a marshmallow war, which got particularly ugly when the girls started throwing the burning hot ones fresh off the fire.

“Ow, my neck,” Cam screamed at Massie. He peeled a gooey marshmallow off his throat. He had to shake it three times before it finally flew off his fingers and landed on the grass.

“You're dead,” he said.

Cam tore open a brand-new bag and launched a full-scale attack. He might be rail thin, but he was tall and strong and never missed his target.

The hailstorm of marshmallows was blinding, so Massie threw the rest of hers with her eyes closed. She never saw the waiter dressed as Satan's helper get hit on the cheek or the karate guy take one on the back. But she wouldn't have felt bad about it even if she had.

Massie heard her cell phone ringing.

“Time out,” she said.

“Hullo?” She was out of breath. “It's Kristen,” she mouthed to her friends.

“How's it going? We totally miss you, KRISTEN.” Massie snuck a peek at Derrington to see if he perked up when he heard her name. She was dying to know which one of her friends he actually liked.

“Does anyone wanna say hi to KRISTEN?” Massie held out the phone in Derrington's general direction.

Vader made slurpy wet kissing sounds in Derrington's ear.

“Get away from me.” Derrington squirmed and pushed Vader.

“Let
me
talk.” Dylan grabbed the phone out of Massie's hand. “Hey, I heard you were bawling your eyes out earlier—are you okay?” She was speaking loud enough for the boys to hear. “Yeah, I can't believe you got GROUNDED. … I used to get GROUNDED a lot when I was a kid, but now that I'm
older,
I
never
get GROUNDED.”

Alicia whipped a marshmallow at Dylan's head and the whole group cracked up.

“Derrick, stop it.” Dylan laughed into the phone.

“It wasn't
me
—it was Alicia,” Derrington said.

But it didn't matter. Dylan dropped the phone on the ground and opened fire on Derrington.

No one ever said goodbye to Kristen.

“This is boring,” Alicia said suddenly. “Who wants to play spin the bottle?”

“I will,” Vader answered quickly.

“By the way, why do they call you Vader?” Massie asked, trying to delay the kissing. She hated that Alicia was an expert on something she had never even tried. She didn't want to be called a prude at her own party.

“Have you ever heard him breathe?” Cam said.

Massie laughed harder than she needed to.

“Anyone else want to play?” Alicia asked. But no one answered. “Come on, you guys, it'll be fun.”

“I'll play.”

Everyone turned around to see where the mysterious voice came from.

A gorgeous girl stood alone by the pit. The dancing orange light from the fire lit her blue eyes beautifully. Her blond wavy hair touched the middle of her back. She looked like the kind of girl that belonged on a beach in California—the fact that she was dressed as a surfer girl (in a super-tight wet suit, of course) probably had something to do with that.

“Yeah, me too,” Derrington said suddenly. “I'll play.”

“Count me in,” Cam added.

“Oh,
now
they want to play,” Dylan said to Massie under her breath.

“Cool,” the girl said, her eyes flickering in the flames. “It's great to see you guys, by the way.”

“Yeah, great to see you too,” Massie said. She turned to Dylan and shrugged. She had no idea who the stranger was.

“Ehmagod,” Alicia said. “Olivia Ryan! I didn't recognize you. Where have you been all semester?”

“I was super sick,” Olivia said. “But I'm much better now.” It sounded like she was whispering, but she wasn't. Her voice had always been incredibly soft.

Dylan coughed,
“Nose job!”

“Totally!”
Massie coughed back.

“You look ah-mazing,” Alicia said.

“Yeah,
different
somehow.” Massie was trying to figure out who Olivia reminded her of.

Dylan gently elbowed Massie in the ribs and giggled. They looked at Alicia to see if she had noticed Olivia's surgically enhanced face, but if she did, she wasn't showing it.

“All right, who's ready to play?” Alicia asked the group. She seemed more into
having
fun with Olivia than
making
fun of her, which Massie found utterly puzzling.

“I am.” Olivia raised her hand.

“I'm going to round up more people,” Alicia said.

“Yay!” Olivia clapped. “I'll help.”

The two girls linked arms and headed off toward the dance floor.

“Who does she remind me of?” Dylan asked Massie.

“No idea,” she said. “I was wondering the same thing.”

But Massie had bigger issues on her mind. If word got out that Olivia Ryan had more boy experience than Massie, she'd never live it down. She was minutes away from facing a swarm of lip-hungry seventh graders and a spinning bottle, and she was desperate to stop the game.

She pulled out her cell phone.

MASSIE:
LKS LIKE DERRINGTON WANTZ 2 KISS OLIVIA.

DYLAN:
HLP!

MASSIE:
U GOT 2 STOP THE GAME.