Dial L for Loser (20 page)

Massie couldn’t believe Claire had become so important to the cause.

“What about the Country Club?” Massie asked.

“No word yet, but I’m sure once they hear about your Conner interview they’ll be back with us,” Kristen said.

“Any news about anyone else?” Massie couldn’t bring herself to ask specifically about Derrington. She didn’t want to sound like Claire, whose obsession with Cam made her look so desperate and needy.

“The spring clothes are starting to go on display, and there are a lot of bold colors and ruffles this season,” Dylan reported. “Oh, and wedge heels are gonna be big.”

“And Norma—the pedicure lady you love?—is on maternity leave,” Kristen said.

“Anything else?” Massie pressed. “You know, about the guys or anything?”

“Oh, a time has been set for the board meeting. Six o’clock on April third.”

“Who knows?” Massie examined the ends of her extensions. “We may not go back. You know, if this whole reporting thing keeps going well.”

“Point,” Alicia said.

“So there’s nothing else, about the guys, the soccer games, or Briarwood?”

“We’re meeting the team for pizza after practice tonight.” Kristen sounded a little too excited. “Josh wants to show us a few new
Bleacher Creatures
sketches
.
”

“Tell him to put us in it,” Alicia piped up.

“We’ll try,” Dylan said, as if she had just been asked to stop eating for a month.

“Have fun.” Massie tried to sound sincere. “Tell the guys we say hi.”

“’Kay, call us later.”

“Can’t.” Massie winked at Alicia. “We have plans with Conner and, well, you know how it is.”

“There he is now. We gotta go.” Alicia closed her phone.

Massie looked up, in case she had been serious. But Conner wasn’t there. Claire was.

Her eyes were red and her skin was blotchy. Abby’s arm was around her shoulders, steering her toward an empty table. As they passed by Massie and Alicia, Abby tightened her grip.

“Did they see us?” Massie asked.

“Hard to say. Should we go over and say hi? You know, to see if they’re mad?”

Massie wasn’t sure
what
to do. What if Claire told her off in front of Abby, her hair muse? She’d never recover. Gawd, this whole thing was so ah-nnoying! If Abby only knew how many people worshipped Massie back home. She’d drop Claire faster than an itchy mohair sweater.

But if Massie ignored them, she’d never know if she and Alica had gotten away with their ‘trash talk’ segment. And the suspense was killing her.

“Let’s go.” Massie grabbed Alicia’s thin wrist. There was no reason to be nervous. It was Kuh-laire, after all: the girl who’d worn Keds and overalls on her first day of school. The girl with lopsided bangs. The girl who ate candy for break-fast. The girl who thought cameras were cooler than credit cards. Puh-lease! If Claire said
anything
to Massie, it had better be “Thank you for giving me life.”

Then, suddenly, Rupert appeared.

“Brilliant!” he shouted as he raced to Claire’s table. “I haven’t seen tears like that since Dakota Fanning’s performance in
Uptown Girls
. Truly remarkable.”

“Conner thought you were great too.” The actor mussed Claire’s hair as he joined them.

“Thanks.” She lowered her eyes.

Massie felt like she was watching a play, so close to the action, yet completely removed at the same time. She sighed, hoping someone would acknowledge her, but they were too busy fawning all over Dakota Lyons.

Conner put his thumb under Claire’s chin and lifted her face.

“Babygirl, can I ask you a question?”

Claire nodded.

“Where do you get your motivation? You know, to cry like that? Conner has a hard time with tears.” He stuck his finger through the Mercedes logo on his key chain and began twirling his keys. “What’s your secret?”

Claire pointed at Massie and Alicia. “Them.”

Alicia gasped.

Massie’s heart rate shot up. She was short of breath and her lips were screaming for gloss. Everyone was staring at her, but not in a good way.

Conner turned to face Massie. “Velvet, do you think you could help
me
?”

Massie opened her mouth, but Abby’s voice came out.

“Of course she can help you. All she has to do is ruin your life like she ruinified Claire’s and you’ll cry buckets.”

“Puh-lease.” Massie used her best stop-being-so-dramatic voice. Maybe if she acted like this whole thing was no big deal they’d believe it. “There’s no such thing as bad press.”

“No, just bad friends.” Claire glared, her blue eyes filled with a mix of hate and heartbreak.

“No wonder you got this part.” Massie cleared her throat. “You’re a total drama queen.” She stormed off, grateful for the sound of Alicia’s Michael Kors cork wedges shuffling behind her.

“Wait up,” she heard someone call.

It was Conner.

She quickly licked her lips before turning around, hoping her saliva would pass as gloss.

“I would love you to show me how to tap into my emotions.” Conner pouted his Red Bull–colored lips.

“Uh, okay.” Massie pretended to know exactly how to do that. “No prob.”

“I can help too,” Alicia offered.

“Of course you can, babygirl.” He half smiled. “How about you two come swimming at my place in Malibu this Saturday?”

“Done,” Alicia answered a little too quickly.

“Done,” Massie confirmed, the cells in her body bouncing like millions of little pearls on a marble floor.

And to think she’d been worried about Claire ruining her social life.

Impossible!

CURRENT STATE OF THE UNION

G
ELDING
S
TUDIOS

C
ONNER
F
OLEY’S
T
RAILER

Friday, March 27th

4:00 P.M.

Abby snapped twice. “Lyons, you’re in!”

“Huh?” Claire plopped down on Conner’s red velvet couch beside her. Never in a million years did she ever think she’d be plopping on Conner’s
anything
with Abby Boyd.

“Remember the photographer who snapped our picture when we walked out of Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf?”

“Yeah.” Claire’s heart started to race, like it knew what was coming before she did.

“Well, his shot made it into
US Weekly
.” Abby beamed. “Look! I scored an advance layout copy. It’ll be on stands next week.”

“Let Conner see.” He ripped the magazine out of Abby’s hands and pulled off his silver Dior wraparounds. “Man, that’s a good one!”

Abby stuck her tongue out at him in a ha-ha-too-badyou’re-not-as-cool-as-me sort of way.

“Let me see.” Claire reached for the magazine, but Conner pulled it even farther away.

“I can’t believe it.” He was staring at the picture, dumb-founded. “All the bases are covered. Your coffees are in to-go cups, which says, ‘I’m very busy. No time to eat.’ You’re laughing, which says, ‘We are successful and happy.’ And you both look skinny, which says, ‘I’m skinny!’” He held up his palm. “Nice going!”

The girls double-high-fived him.

Claire grabbed the magazine. “Wow,” was all she could say. Conner was right. It was a great shot. She and Abby were wearing matching peach-colored Juicy sweat suits (a gift from the designers) and were cracking up outside the coffee shop. They looked like true BFFs.

“You can thank me later.” Abby beamed.

“What do you mean?” Claire didn’t want to sound rude or ungrateful but
huh
?

“What do I mean?” she teased. “I asked one of my paparazzi contacts to take it. I knew it would piss off your loser friends.” She looked proud, almost heroic. Like she had just rescued a baby from the jaws of a hungry shark.

Claire bit her thumbnail.

“Don’tcha love press wars?” Abby opened her green ring, dipped her pinky inside, then dabbed behind her ears. The light floral aroma of lilies of the valley filled the room.

Claire knit her blond brows.

“Everyone out here does it, right, Conner?” Abby seemed annoyed that Conner was reading the ingredients on the back of his protein shake instead of listening to her.

“Right, babygirl,” he said to a can of cookies-and-cream-flavored Muscle Milk.

“We fight using photographs,” she explained. “Like, if I want to get a guy jealous, I’ll have one of my contacts take a shot of me with some hot newcomer. And if he wants to get me back, he’ll have a shot taken of him with
two
hot newcomers.”

“Kind of like that shot of you hugging that skinny model dude from
8th & Ocean
.”

Abby kicked the stack of boxes by the door marked
HUGO BOSS
and
CF JEANS
.

“Or that picture of you draped all over that redheaded snowboarder?”

“Gabor doesn’t have red hair!”

“The other one, you know, the Flying Tomato guy.”

Abby turned away again.

“Seriously?” Claire wondered how many of the countless celebrity photos she and Massie had pored over were staged. Then she flashed back to the shots of her, Conner, and Abby outside Boi.

A wave of terror washed over her. Was she the only “real” person on the planet? The only one who played by the rules? The only one who believed in honesty and truth? Maybe it would have been better if she had been born evil. At least then duplicitous behavior wouldn’t come as such a shock.

“So, Abby, you were
pretending
to be my friend?” Claire knew she sounded pathetic but was too disappointed to care. “And Conner, you were pretending to date us?”

Abby snapped once. “Of course not. That’s crazyotic. We
are
friends. Best friends.” She hugged Claire.

“And Conner
is
dating both of you.” He winked, then cracked open his Muscle Milk and stuffed it in a brown paper bag. “Hey, Claire, I think they’re taping an episode of
Emotionally Unstable Girl
next door. Maybe you should audition.”

She burst out laughing. “Maybe you should watch.” She threw a pillow at him. “It might help you tap into your
tears
and
emotions
.”

Abby burst out laughing. “Yeah, what was up with
that
?”

“What?” He couldn’t help smiling at himself. “Those
Daily Grind
girls were cute.”

Claire rolled her eyes. For once couldn’t someone think they were ugly?

“I invited them to my house on Saturday.” Conner tilted his head back and took a long swig from the bag. “We’re having a pool party.”

Abby’s expression hardened. “Which one do you like?”

“Yeah, which one?” Claire’s stomach lurched. No matter what he said, it would be the wrong answer. Conner was
hers
.

“Dunno yet.” He crushed the tin can in his hands and tossed it in the trash. “Depends on which one looks hotter in a bathing suit.”

“Ew!” Claire heard herself say.

“Perv!” Abby knocked the back of his head.

“What?” Conner widened his olive-green eyes. “I have a reputation to uphold.” He grabbed the crumpled
US Weekly
off the couch and turned to the front of the magazine. “Look.”

Abby grabbed it out of his hands and read the caption aloud: ‘Conner Foley with sexy middle-school dropouts Alice and Moosie.’ She turned to Claire. “Aren’t these your ex-friends?”

“What?”

She handed her the magazine.

When Claire saw the picture of Massie and Alicia cruising the Gelding lot in a golf cart driven by Conner, she almost barfed.

“How great is that shot?” He punched the air. “They look like models. And the fact that they’re dropouts? Perfect for my bad-boy image.”

Claire’s first instinct was to speed dial the girls and tell them they were being taken advantage of. What if Derrington and Josh saw this? Or Principal Burns? She’d never let them back into OCD. If Claire took the limo, she could be back at the hotel in twenty minutes. They could meet up at the restaurant, talk about how pathetic Conner was, then come up with a revenge plan.

Claire sat back down on the couch. After all, there was no such thing as bad press. Right, Moosie?

M
ALIBU,
C
ALIFORNIA

C
ONNER
F
OLEY’S
B
EACH
H
OUSE

Saturday, March 28th

12:11 P.M.

“Thank Gawd for spray tans.” Massie beamed after checking her reflection in the brass knocker on Conner’s front door. “Rate me?”

“Nine-eight.” Alicia licked her lips. “Me?”

“Same,” Massie lied. Her purple eyelet Betsey Johnson halter dress, white ankle socks, and BCBG wedges were way more eye-catching than Alicia’s white, toga-inspired sarong and gold lace-up sandals.

“Rate Bean.” Massie adjusted the pug’s pink frilly bikini.

“Ten.” Alicia giggled. “Now ring the bell.” She squirmed like she was holding in a pee.

Of course Alicia had gotten a spray tan too. And of course she’d used her diffuser that morning. So her black hair was perfectly wavy and frizz-free, despite the unforgiving salt air. Hopefully, Conner would be so taken by Massie’s charm and confidence that he wouldn’t notice Alicia and the whole beautiful Greek goddess thing she was working.

“Ring it!” Alicia looked over her shoulder. “He probably has a ton of security cameras, and if he sees us standing here like—”

Massie rang the bell. Twice.

Suddenly, she felt guilty about Derrington. What if he knew she had gone shopping and tanning for another guy?

“Who is it?” a woman asked over the intercom.

Bean barked once. Massie leaned in to the white box at the side of the door and pushed the button. “Massie Block. Conner invited me.”

“And Alicia Rivera.” Alicia rolled her eyes. “He invited me too.”

“Oops. Sorry ’bout that.”

“Welcome. I’m Estelle.” A short, gray-haired lady with a rolling pin and a kind smile invited them in. “Conner is expecting you. He’s out by the pool.”