P.S. I Loathe You (17 page)

Kristen didn’t know where to begin. Questions popped around her brain like kernels in the microwave. Things like:

• How did you get a key to my condo?

• What are you doing here?

• Have you finally stopped blaming me for Layne and Dempsey’s ride on the Dragon Coaster?

• Did you realize that their hangout was beyond my control and that you’ve been giving me the silent treatment all week for
nothing
?

• Can you see Layne hiding behind Dune right now?

• If you do not see Layne hiding behind Dune right now, when
are
you going to see her?

• What will you do to me at that time?

• What excuse will I come up with for having her here?

• Will you believe it?

“Um, Kristen.” Massie snapped her fingers. “Are you an astronaut?”

“No, why?” Kristen shook her head like an Etch A Sketch, erasing the chaos in her mind.

“Then why are you spacing?”

“Sorry.” Kristen flashed a fake “everything’s okay” smile. “Come in.”

Massie entered, dragging a clear wheelie over the Gregorys’ happy face welcome mat. The suitcase was stuffed with candles, aromatherapy oils, comic books, video games, and the DVD
Bend It Like Beckham
. A big glitter heart said, Humpy Dempsey Had a Great Fall
. . . and It’s All Alicia’s Fault
in silver metallic marker.

“How did you get a key to my house?” Kristen managed.

“It’s
nawt
a house!”

“Real nice.” Dune rolled his eyes.

“What? It’s
true
.” Massie widened her eyes, trying to look innocent. “Anyway, I had Inez make copies during our first sleepover.” Massie shrugged as if that were perfectly normal. “In case of emergency.”

“What’s the ‘emergency’?” Kristen made air quotes, her tone more aggressive than usual. But Dune’s presence gave her strength. Layne’s gave her anxiety. And when mixed together they tasted like anger.

“I wanted to give this to Dempsey when he got back from the hospital.” Massie petted her suitcase.

Dune snickered.

“What’s
this
?” Massie shrieked at Layne’s gift basket. “One-Ew-Hundred-Flowers?” Her top lip curled in disgust as she pinched the cellophane between her fingers like it was sweat-stained polyester.

“Hey!” Layne stepped out from behind Dune. “That’s mine!”

“What is
she
doing here?”

Kristen’s mouth hung open like a thirsty dog’s.

“Ehmagawd.” Massie jingle-stomped her moccasin. “Are you helping
her
get Dempsey?”

Kristen tried again. Still, nothing came out.

“Is she
paying
you?” Massie screeched in disbelief.

Kristen searched Layne’s face for an appropriate answer.

“Ehmagawd, she
is
paying you,” Massie gasped. “Seriously, Kristen, how poor are you?”

Dune gasped in disbelief.

Massie turned to him. “What?”

Don’t speak! Don’t speak! Don’t—

“Why would her
best
friend
have to pay her?” he asked innocently.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo-oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

“I
don’t
!” Massie twirled her long ponytail extension. “I was talking about
Layme
.”

“So was I,” Dune blurted. “They hung out together all summer. And from what I noticed, Kristen has a lot more fun with
Layme
than she does with you,
Assie
!”

“Yeah!” Layne high-fived Dune.

“Really
?
And how much fun is she having with
you,
EW-N?”

Massie turned to Kristen. Her cheeks were burning red. Her amber eyes were dark. And she was exhaling through her nose like a vengeful dragon. It was like watching a tropical storm gather force. “Is that
true
?”

Kristen swallowed back a mouthful of stress-barf. “Um, what part?”

Massie stepped closer. Kristen could smell her guava Glossip Girl lip gloss. “Have you been
cheating
on me?”

“Yup!” Layne announced with maniacal pleasure. “She sure has!”

“You didn’t
know
?” Dune burst out laughing, gripping his stomach for effect.

Massie glared at Kristen, her moistening eyes speaking volumes.

“It’s not like that,” Kristen pleaded.

“It’s
not
?” Layne smirked. “’Cause it kinda is.”

“Layne!”

Dune kept laughing. Kristen huffed at him, wishing he were still on the heart-shaped island.

“Have you been helping
her
get Dempsey?”

“Yup!” Layne announced again.

Massie reached for the door, her hand shaking.

“Are you guys a Mariah Carey song?”

Kristen shook her head no, dreading the alpha’s next words.

“Because you
belong
together
.” She threw open the door and slammed it behind her.

“Krist-mas,” Marsha called from the kitchen. “Is someone here?”

Before Kristen could answer, the door flew back open. “Forgot my bag.” Massie grabbed the handle of her suitcase. “Oh, and
this
!”
She lifted her duplicate key and gouged a huge slit in Layne’s cellophane wrapping. An avalanche of Wonka goodies spilled to the parquet floor. “Now we’ve both been stabbed.” The door slammed for the last time.

“Krist-mas?”

“No, Mom!” Kristen snapped.

Layne dropped to her knees and began scooping up the candy. “I can’t believe you let her do that to me!”

“You’re blaming
me
?” Kristen began to tremble. “And Dune, I can’t believe you told her about me and Layne?”

“Why?” He rolled his eyes like it was no big deal. “You should be allowed to have other friends.”

“Yeah!” Layne jammed a handful of gobstoppers into the basket.

“I was protecting the Witty Committee,” she barked, no longer caring who knew what.

“You were not, Scott!” Layne tugged the shark tooth and stomped her gold high-top. “You were protecting
yourself
!” she yelled, echoing Kristen’s exact thoughts from earlier that week. Layne scooped up her wounded basket with one hand and flipped Kristen a sequin-covered bird with the other. “It’s been real.” She opened the door. “Real pointless.” She slammed it shut.

“Krist-mas?”

“It’s okay, Mom!”

“Hey.” Dune pointed toward the hallway. “Was that my necklace?”

Kristen nodded yes while tears rolled down her cheek.

“You lied?”

She nodded again.

“Layne, wait up!” Dune called, slamming the door behind him.

“Krist-mas.” Marsha hurried in from the kitchen. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Kristen burst out in tears. And then sobs. And then howls. A giant snot bubble pulsed from her nose as she tried to breathe. Thankfully, two salmon-smelling, mismatched oven mitts grabbed her and rocked her like everything was going to be okay. Even though it so wasn’t.

WESTCHESTER, NY

THE RANGE ROVER

Thursday, October 8th
7:38 P.M.

Rush hour traffic was worse that usual.

Or maybe it just seemed that way because Massie’s mind was speeding and the Range Rover was not. Through her tears, red brake lights blurred like they were being examined through a shifting kaleidoscope.

Is loyalty too much to expect from a best friend? How about honesty? Or . . . loyalty!

“You already said loyalty,” Isaac, her driver, kindly noted.

“Oh.” Massie sniffled, realizing she must have been talking aloud. “I just can’t believe she’s friends with
Layme
!”

“What’s wrong with
Layne
?” Isaac’s caring blue eyes found hers in the rearview mirror. “Claire thinks the world of her.”

Massie curled up against the door. “Nawt the point.” She pinky-dabbed a mascara-booger and wiped it under the tan leather seat. “The point is, she never
told
me.”

“What would you have said if she had?”

“Well, we’ll never know now, will we?” Massie sniffled.

Isaac snickered, not quite buying it. “So are you upset that she and Layne are friends or that she didn’t tell you?”

The car inched forward.

“Both.” Massie wiped her cheeks. “And the fact that Layne is stealing my friends. And that she likes Dempsey. And that she’ll probably get him now that she has Claire
and
Kristen on her side. And that I’m supposed to know everything about everyone and I didn’t know this. And that being excluded from a secret makes me an LBR, especially since the secret was about me!”

“Massie,” Isaac began with that tone he saved for his “things will be better in the morning” lectures.

“Whatevs,” she cut him off. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
With you!
she added silently.

Massie speed-texted Alicia.

Massie: ? r u doing?

She took a deep, calming breath while she waited for a response, thankful that she could mask her despair behind an emotionally ambiguous font and a smiley face.

Alicia: Homework.

Massie tried Dylan next but got no response. And then Claire who—
shocker—
was IM-studying with Cam for the third night in a row.

Gawd, was nothing sacred? She swatted her BFFWC key chain as if her pitiful loneliness were all its fault. Hadn’t they pledged “PC support, day or night”? And wasn’t now night?!

Massie leaned forward. “Rivera estate,” she muttered weakly.

Isaac craned his neck to face her. “Don’t you have schoolwork?”

“Yeah,” she breathed against the window. “Social studies. And I need Alicia’s help.”

Mrs. Rivera greeted Massie warmly, almost like she’d been expecting her. “Alicia is in the dance studio.” She gestured toward the back garden with a perma-tanned arm, the smell of freesia sprinkling off her like fairy dust.

“Doing homework?”

She ran her long red fingernails through her damp dark hair. “I doubt it.”

Adrenaline prickled Massie’s spine like a bee sting. Something was off. She could tell. And it rubbed her like an itchy label in a new sweater.

Denying her instincts, Massie hurried outside as if nothing was wrong. As if she and Alicia hadn’t been fighting all week. As if pretending everything was normal could actually make it that way.