P.S. I Loathe You (8 page)

The dog went straight for the cat’s bow tie, clawing and growling at it as if it were a direct threat.

“Re-owwww!” Beckham sprang onto his hind legs and batted Bean’s face like it was made of yarn.

Kristen scooped up her cat with urgency. “Why did you put her up there?” she screeched.

“Oops.” Massie covered her mouth daintily, like a society girl with hiccups. “I’m so used to giving her what she wants, I wasn’t thinking.”

Beckham wiggled free and scurried under the bed.

“Sorry, we weren’t expecting this.” Massie shrugged with an annoying amount of nonchalance. “She’s used to being the only animal.”

“So is Dylan,” Alicia snickered, waving away some freshly fouled air.

“So is your face,” Dylan countered.

They all cracked up except Kristen. She dropped to her belly and pouted her apologies to the trembling kitty as her canine tormentor lay peacefully on a pile of pillows above.

“You may want to put Black-Tie Beckham in your mom’s room.” Massie plugged her flatiron into the wall and took down her ponytail. “You know, until he learns to deal.” She shook out her shiny brown hair.

A flood of tears filled Kristen’s eyes as she stood. “This is
his
room.” Her voice trembled. “If anyone goes, it’s—”

“When does Dune get back?” Claire pulled an orange gummy worm out of the bowl and slurped it like spaghetti, her blue eyes wide with innocence.

Monday!
Kristen wanted to snap. Hadn’t she been talking about it all week? But Claire’s soft grin said she’d only asked to prevent a fight.

“Extra, extra!” Alicia jumped up on the green and white comforter and bounced, jostling Bean like a penny on a trampoline. Her C-cups Jell-Oed inside her navy babydolls. “I’ve got gossip!”

Kristen lowered the volume on “Wake Up Call” and plopped down beside Alicia’s bare feet.

Massie, Dylan, and Claire quickly joined her.

“How many points?” Dylan poked her tongue through a chocolate-covered pretzel and waved it around.

“Five hundy.” Alicia landed on her butt and crossed her toned dancer’s legs.

“Granted.” Massie made a note in her 3G. “Now open like a zip drive.”

Kristen felt herself grinning. Finally, something big was about to go down. This sleepover had major Hall of Fame potential. The Pretty Committee would remember this night forever.

Alicia scanned the room for the spies she knew weren’t there, then whispered, “Tuesday night, some girl in dirty sweats was pedaling Derrington around town on his bike.” She rocked back and forth playfully, giving the news a moment to sink in.

“Ah!” Massie winced like she had a sudden gas cramp.

Dylan quickly stood and grabbed a fistful of pretzels. Claire smile-read a text from Cam. And Kristen peeked up at her ceiling, stealing a quick glance at her C.L.A.M. crush. Two more sleeps until he was back. And then
they’d
be the hot topic.

“Source?” Massie and Dylan asked at the same time.

“Apple C!” they then called immediately, both girls trying to look less affected by the news than they really were.

“Josh.” Alicia beamed.

“So? Does he know who she is?” Dylan casually asked her pretzel.

“Typical.” Massie sprang off the bed and returned to her flatiron.

“What?” Dylan followed her to the mirror. “What’s typical?”

“Derrington ah-bviously made that up and told Josh, knowing he’d tell Leesh and Leesh would tell me.” She ironed a flirty flip at the bottom of her hair. “I mean, what
real
girl would be desperate enough to pedal
him
? He’s ah-bviously trying to get me jealous by self-starting a rumor.”

“Ehmagawd, you’re sooo right!” Dylan smacked Massie’s shoulder.

“Makes sense.” Claire finally looked up from her phone.

“No. It. Does.
Nawt
.” Alicia smacked the comforter.

“Don’t worry.” Massie grinned. “You can still have your gossip points.”

“Oh.” Alicia smile-shrugged. “Okay.”

“Maybe it’s a sign.” Dylan hurried for more snacks and grabbed a pita. “You know, that it’s time to throw water on him and let him go.”

“Not until I get Dempsey.” Massie flipped off her flatiron and tousled her hair.

“But what if you don’t?” Kristen blurted, and then regret-blushed.

“Don’t
what
?” Massie accidentally swatted her flatiron to the floor.

“Don’t get Dempsey,” Claire butted in. “I mean, what if someone else likes him and, you know, gets him first?”

“Like
who
?”

“What difference does it make?” Dylan returned to the bed. “It’s not like you’d go back to Derrington if you
couldn’t
get Dempsey, right?”

“Given.” Massie dipped her pinky in a pot of gold glitter, then wiped it on her cheekbones. “But boys are in right now. And when something’s hot, I always get two.”

“But what if it’s true?” Dylan sat.

Massie slammed down her gold glitter, then ripped the pita from Dylan’s hand. “Then that sweatpant-wearing pedal-chauffeur is done.” She offered the bread to Bean, who snapped it up like a croc (the reptile, not the shoe). “Wait a minute.” Her amber eyes narrowed. “I know what’s going on here.”

Dylan tucked a strand of already tucked hair behind her ear. Her cheeks reddened and her forehead began to leak. “What?” She stood.

“You’re jealous because I’m C-plus and you’re C-minus.” Massie forced a pout, obviously trying to empathize. “What about that ah-dorable tennis pro you met in Hawaii?”

“Brady?” Dylan’s coloring returned to normal. “Puh-lease. He’s on tour for the next three years. The wait for a Prada Fairy bag isn’t that long.”

“When can we talk about the cheerleading squad?” Alicia placed her pumiced heel on the back of Kristen’s desk chair and leaned forward to stretch. “I was thinking the moves could be mostly modern dance. It’s a totally fresh take on—”

“Rate me.” Massie put a hand on her hip, lifted her chin, and cocked her head. Her dark brown hair was straight and glossy. The flowing hemline of her African-print maxi-dress kissed her gold pedicure. And her cheekbones shimmered like Mount Kilimanjaro at dusk.

“Nine,” Alicia blurted.

The others nodded in agreement.

Satisfied, Massie struck a pose. She rotated the left side of her face toward the door and half smiled as if it were about to snap her photo.

“Why do you care about your rating?” Kristen asked, wondering if the alpha would admit she was hoping to see Dempsey. “It’s just a sleepover.”

“Why do you care about the number of goals you score?” Massie pinched her cheeks for some last minute color. “It’s just a game.”

“That’s
different
.”

“How?” Massie checked the time on her 3G. “You play to win and so do I.”

“Point!” Alicia lifted her finger in the air.

“What are you trying to win?” Claire tied a red gummy worm around her ring finger.

“Hell-ooooh?” a boy’s voice called from the hall outside Kristen’s bedroom. “Anybody home?” He knuckle-knocked.

“
That
.” Massie rolled back her shoulders and smiled like a prom queen.

THE PINEWOOD

KRISTEN’S BEDROOM

Friday, September 25th
7:26 P.M.

Prickly heat spread throughout Kristen’s entire body. Was the room hotter than seventy-six degrees? Had her antiperspirant stopped working? Were Dempsey’s eyes always army green? She wiped her palms on her blue-and-white striped Victoria’s Secret pajama bottoms, wishing she had worn something less . . . cotton. But her mind and body were like plaids and stripes, refusing to work together, leaving Kristen to wonder why, exactly, her internal crush furnace was overheating to such an obvious degree.

Was it:

A) The thrill of having a boy—any boy—at her first sleep-over?

B) The pressure she felt to save Dempsey for Layne? Even though Massie had sprayed him?

C) Knowing on some deep subconscious level that in two days Dune would be standing in her doorway and she couldn’t wait?

D) Something else she didn’t dare consider?

Kristen always chose C when she didn’t know the answer.

A sudden waft of Chanel No. 19 filled the room.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Kristen managed, trying to sound casual.

“He must have seen your
note
,” Massie blurted sharply, alerting her to play along. “You know, the one you
slid
under his
door
that said to
stop
by
and
let
us
know
if you made the
team
. Heart—
only as a friend
—Kristen?”

“Oh yeah.” Kristen blushed again. “So,
did
you make it?”

Dempsey stepped into the room. His dirty blond hair was sweaty and matted. His black soccer shorts were perfectly baggy, his cheeks ah-dorably pink. Why did he have to look so soccerlicious?

“Yup.” He grinned. “I quit the play and everything. There’ll be another one next semester.”

“Yayyyyyyy!” The girls applauded.

He smiled wide, like someone who had no clue he’d just broken Layne’s heart.

“Congratulations, cheerleaders, that was your first official cheer,” Massie said in her coachiest voice.

“Is this the
whole
squad?” Dempsey chuckled, helping himself to a handful of “Italian popcorn” as he scanned the other snack options.

“Tryouts are on Monday,” Massie spoke up before anyone else could.

“But we’re automatically in, right?” Alicia leaned, restretching her stretched hamstring.

“Given.” Massie gave her a reassuring shoulder tap. “But we still have to hold auditions.”

“To give everyone a fair chance?” Claire tightened her ponytail.

“No, Kuh-laire. To find LBRs for the bottom of the pyramid.”

“Opposite of a good idea.” Alicia stood up on Kristen’s bed.

“’Scuse me?” Massie lifted an eyebrow.

“Pyramids are out. But don’t worry. I’ll show you some sequences I learned at Body Alive and—”

Massie side-glanced at Dempsey, then stood. “Um, Alicia, are you on the track team?”

Alicia took a step back. “No.”

Massie stepped forward. “Then why are you trying to run with this?”

Everyone burst out laughing.

“I’m gonna tell Layne to audition.” Dempsey examined the bowl of Sweet ’n’ Salty Surprise with delight. “She was just telling me what a huge soccer fan she is.”

“Sad times ten.” Massie fake-sulked. “But our practices will conflict with play rehearsals, so—”

“It’s okay!” Dempsey grabbed Kristen’s soccer ball off her trophy shelf and spun it until the black and white patches blurred. “We made a pact. We both dropped out of the play so we could be in the next one together. I bet she’d love to be on your squad.”

Kristen’s stomach lurched.
OMG! He likes Layne!

“But she doesn’t have any dance training,” Alicia whined.

“Massie can teach anyone anything.” Dempsey smiled fondly at the alpha.

Kristen’s stomach lurched again.
OMG! He likes Massie!

She peeked at Claire, who was scrutinizing the cuticle on her left thumb. Did she feel uncomfortable too? Burdened with too much information and doomed to carry the weight of that knowledge alone?

Claire
had
to know how Layne felt about Dempsey. After all, they were best friends OTPC (Outside The Pretty Committee). And
everyone
knew how Massie felt.

If only she could ask Claire’s advice. She’d want to know:

A) Which friend did she feel more obligated to help?

B) What was the best way to ask Dempsey who he liked?

C) Who did she think liked him more, Massie or Layne?

D) Who did she think deserved him more, Massie or Layne?

E) Who did she think was a better match for him, Massie or Layne?

F) Could she trust her enough to tell her about the Witty Committee?

G) All of the above.

Yes, Claire had kept Kristen’s scholarship secret, but conspiracy to cover a friendship with an LBR? That was a serious
Mass
demeanor.

“This is gonna be so cool!” Dempsey clapped once.

Yeah! If you considered . . .

A) Being a double agent for your friends while they crush on the same guy COOL!