Best Friends for Never (14 page)

I LIKE TROUBLEMAKERS.

-C

“Oh my God, Bean,” Massie gulped as she lifted her dog onto her lap. “He practically admitted he likes me! Now what?”

Massie hopped up from her chair and paced around her room, Bean still in her arms.

“It can't end like this. It may be weeks before I talk to him again. What if he forgets he likes me?”

The sound of Bean's panting kept Massie from feeling alone.

“I wish you could talk. But I guess if you could, I wouldn't tell you anything, so maybe it's better that you don't.”

Massie sat back down in front of her computer and went for it.

IT'S A GREAT STORY. CALL ME IF YOU WANT TO HEAR IT. IF NOT, I'LL SEE YOU SOON.

-MB

Massie was proud of her last response. It was an invitation for him to call her, but at the same time she made it seem like it didn't matter if he took her up on it.

Her phone rang seconds later. She answered.

“Hi, Massie?”

It was Cam.

“Are you eating?” Massie asked. “I can hear you chomping on something.”

“It's Big League Chew.”

“Grape?”

“Yeah,” Cam said. “How did you know?”

“It's what you always chew.”

Massie was so charged with energy she wanted to scream. She stopped pacing long enough to sit down at her computer and do a quick search on
The Godfather
just in case it came up (
a 1972 film directed by Francis Ford Coppola … zzz … zzz … zzz …
). Luckily it never did.

They talked about their classes, their families, and their favorite Web sites. He even asked what it was like having “the new girl” around all the time and said he “totally felt her pain” when she explained what a drag it was. There were only two awkward silences in the entire thirty-seven-minute conversation and he promised to make her a CD mix of his favorite Strokes songs. If his mother hadn't called him to dinner, they would have talked all night.

When Massie hung up the phone, she was ready to burst. Even though they made no solid plans to see each other (ugh!), Cam promised he would call her again and Massie believed him.

“Bean!” Massie hugged her dog. “I wish I could be friends with myself so I'd have someone to jump up and down with right now.”

Massie closed her blinds to make sure Claire couldn't see into her bedroom and then hopped up on her bed. She jumped twice and let out a big “whoo-hoo,” but that was the extent of her victory dance. She felt stupid celebrating alone.

THE BLOCK ESTATE
LIVING ROOM

6:36
PM

November 3rd

“If you want to work in the same room as me, you're going to have to set up behind there.” Massie was pointing to the brown suede couch on the far side of the living room. “And I'll work behind this one.”

Claire wasn't going to argue. She walked over to her couch and emptied her plastic bag of material on the cream-colored carpet. This was Claire's big chance to spend alone time with Massie and maybe, if things went well, she'd be
in
by the end of the night.

“So what's your uniform idea?” Claire felt weird talking to Massie with a piece of furniture between them.

“Do you seriously think I'm going to tell you?” Massie snapped. She didn't say it in a mean way, like, “Do you seriously think I'm going to tell
you?”
She sounded like she just wasn't going to tell
anyone.

Ever since Pia announced the contest that morning, the entire grade became secretive and paranoid. Bathroom stalls were used as phone booths by girls who wanted privacy while talking to their “outside contacts.” The Café was practically silent during lunch. It was like someone had accidentally hit mute on the otherwise bustling scene.

Claire thought about her old school in Orlando and felt a pang of sadness. There, a design contest would have had everyone running around sharing ideas and teaming up with partners. But at OCD, where the students were the kids of CEOs, politicians, and celebrities, no one cared about creativity or teamwork. They cared about winning.

Pia invited designers and dressmakers to teach sewing clinics and pattern-making workshops after school. And Claire signed up for them all. The extra studying would be worth it if she won the design contest and could hear herself being referred to as something other than “the new girl with Keds.”

After the first workshop, called “Sew What?” Claire decided on a uniform that was all about comfort and simplicity, something she thought the overdressed OCD girls should finally consider. She wanted to make a velour skirt that would fasten with a pull string instead of a zipper. A hoodie, with the OCD Phoenix on the right side of the chest, would replace the blazer. T-shirts and sneakers would also be part of the comfy overall image. And of course everything would be in the school colors, navy blue and maroon. Claire was confident that once the seventh graders got a taste of casual dressing, they would thank her until the end of time.

For the next half hour the girls worked without talking, the only sound in the room the squeak of scissors cutting through fabric. After a while Claire peeked out over her couch. Massie was measuring her mannequin. She wore a pair of red Juicy Couture sweats and her hair was piled on top of her head. Even though she seemed ready for bed, Claire thought Massie looked pretty.

“I see you watching me,” Massie said without even turning her head.

“Uh, I was just—”

“Claire, do you work at a grocery store?” Massie asked as she was wrapping her tape measure around her mannequin's waist.

“Huh? No,” Claire said.

“Then why are you checking me out?”

Claire flopped back on the carpeted floor behind her designated couch and tried to make sense of the patterns that stared back at her. She wished Layne could help, but she had already joined forces with Eli.

Layne had invited Claire to team up with them, but Claire had politely declined the offer when she heard their plan. Layne wanted Eli to be her model.

“Are you serious?” Claire asked them. They were in an art supply store after school, waiting for Eli to decide on a sketch pad.

“Claire, uniforms strip away our freedom of expression by forcing everyone to look identical,” Eli explained. He flipped opened an Utrecht notebook and rubbed a sheet of thick paper between his thumb and index finger.

Claire was trying really hard to pay attention, but all she could focus on was Eli's chipped navy blue nail polish.

“So we're taking that idea one step further by saying why not make
all
of us look the same, boys included,” Eli said. He looked at the price sticker on the inside of the notebook and put it back on the shelf.

“Isn't that genius?” Layne looked really proud.

The only words Claire could think of at that moment were dripping with sarcasm, so she stuffed her mouth with the last of her gummy supply to keep herself quiet.

“Did you hear that Eli is going to be Layne's model?” Claire asked from behind her couch.

“No way!” Massie shouted back from her side of the room. “Is she really?”

“You mean
he?”

“No, I meant
she.
” Massie giggled.

Claire laughed too.

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

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

“Hey, Alicia,” Massie said.

Claire thought Massie 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?” Massie 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
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.”
Massie 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
someone?”

“Who?” Claire mouthed to herself.

“WHO?” Massie 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
Cam liked her after their Halloween party. Now Massie'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,” Massie 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.” Massie sounded irritated. “I'll get it out of her tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Claire hoped Massie wouldn't pick up on her disappointment. “Good luck. Keep me posted.”

Massie 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 scraps of material around her. She'd need the entire rest of the week to finish! 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 finishing touches to put on everything, but I'll do it tomorrow after school. Meet me here, 'kay?” Massie asked.

“Yeah, I'll see you after school,” Claire said with a smile, and suddenly realized the reason she was “bothering.” For some reason, Massie 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.” Massie started folding up scraps of unused material. “Unless, of course, you
want
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 Massie 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 Massie 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 Massie was finally being nice to her and Cam had a secret crush. Claire just
knew
she was the girl he liked. And all of that made her feel like running.

OCTAVIAN COUNTRY DAY SCHOOL
THE HALLS

11:15
AM

November 4th

Massie raced through the halls, past the Models Wanted signs and the high-gloss Fashion Week at OCD posters. Someone had taken a deep red lipstick and changed a few of them to Fashion WEAK at OCD. But Massie 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.

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

Massie 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
knew the pockets were pieces of the skirt Todd soaked with grape juice.