Revenge of the Wannabes (19 page)

“I love it.”

“Can I take your coat?” Cam asked Claire. His smile was soft and his voice was kind.

She slipped out of her blue puffy jacket and handed it to him. Claire felt her fingers brush up against his wrist by accident. Her stomach dropped like it did when she rode the Scream! at Six Flags.

“Smells like kiwi,” he said when he took the jacket. He placed it over the banister, then pressed his hand on it, just to make sure it wouldn’t fall.

Claire giggled and shrugged. She looked at her Keds. This was the longest she and Cam had ever been alone together. Where was Alicia?

“Come meet my parents.” His green and blue eyes flickered. “They’re in the kitchen.”

Claire followed the lasagna smell into a quaint country-style kitchen. Oatmeal-colored lace curtains had been draped over the window above the sink and all of the cabinets were painted red and white. The round wood table was full of sauce-stained dishes, but Mr. and Mrs. Fisher didn’t seem to mind. They looked happy, sitting together drinking coffee.

“Mom, Dad, this is Claire,” Cam said.

“Nice to meet you, Claire; we’ve heard a lot about you,” Mrs. Fisher said, pushing up the sleeves of her pink Old Navy sweatshirt. She was the first mother Claire had seen in Westchester who actually looked like she had kids.

“Nice to meet you too.” Claire could feel her face turning red.

“I understand you’re from Florida.” Mr. Fisher wiped his mustache with a white paper napkin. “We used to take the kids to Disney World all the time, but I got sick of standing on line for eleven hours with sweat dripping down my back, you know?” He laughed, then started coughing.

Claire smiled and tugged her bangs.

“Wanna go downstairs?” Cam asked. “I was just playing Underground 2. I have two control panels.”

“Cool.” Claire wondered if she should have told him she thought video games were boring. “Nice meeting you both.” She waved, and Cam’s parents smiled.

Claire followed Cam down the stairs to the basement. The walls were covered in the same brown carpet that lined the stairs and Claire let her fingers brush across it as she followed him. It was the first time she had ever seen carpet used as wallpaper.

A big mushy mustard-colored
L
-shaped couch was in the center of the room and the glass coffee table had been pushed aside. A can of Coke and a bag of pretzels were on the floor along with a jumble of black wires and two Xbox control panels. Cam sat on the floor beside the soda and leaned back against the couch. Claire quickly unbuttoned her tight jeans, then did the same, thankful for her bulky lavender sweater.

“Your parents seem nice,” Claire said, wondering what Alicia and Harris were talking about.

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.” Cam handed Claire a control panel.

There was an awkward silence while Cam rebooted the game. Did he think she was dull? Did he regret inviting her over? Could he hear her breathing?

“It’s cool that we’re finally hanging out,” he said to the TV screen. “I wasn’t sure you were gonna show up.”

Claire wanted to tell Cam that she liked him way more than as a friend. That she was so excited to be hanging out with him … that she didn’t mean to avoid him, but Massie made her … that she only listened to Massie because she was finally IN and couldn’t stand being OUT again … But she didn’t. He wouldn’t understand.

“Of course I showed up.” Claire bit her thumbnail. She pretended to cross her legs so she could lean into his armpit to take a whiff. She wanted to know if Massie was right about his BO problem. Claire inhaled deeply. All she could smell was his Drakkar Noir. He smelled great.

Cam bobbed his head. “How killer is the sound track on this game?”

“Awesome,” Claire said about some grating hip-hop song she had never heard before.

“I’ll burn a CD for you.” Cam shook his floppy bangs out of his eyes. But the sudden jerky movement sent his red car into a metal garbage can. “Nooo,” he shouted when it burst into flames.

“Bummer,” Claire lied. “I guess the game’s over.”

“Huh?” Cam’s gaze was still fixated on his burning car.

“So what’s going on with your brother and Alicia?” Claire asked. “Are they, you know,
together?”

Cam finally shut off the TV and looked at Claire. “What? No, they’re not
together.
He’s like four years older than she is.”

“So why are they hanging out?”

“They’re not. She’s just dropping off Strokes tickets,” Cam said, reaching for a pretzel. “How gross would that be if he started dating Alicia? Can’t he go to jail for that?”

Claire shrugged and helped herself to a pretzel even though she didn’t have an appetite. She hoped the chewing would keep her mind off the one question that had been racing through her mind like the red car in the video game. … What if Massie found out she was with Cam?

Cam stuck the control panel under Claire’s nose and waved it around like a hot pastry. “Wanna play?” he asked. “I bet you’ll beat my score.”

“Uh, normally I would, but I should get going.” She snapped a pretzel in half but didn’t eat it.

“You just got here,” he said, lifting his soda can and taking a small sip. “Do I smell or something?”

Claire immediately thought of Massie.

“No, it’s not that.” Claire giggled. “I actually like the way you smell. It’s just that, well, I—I have a boyfriend back at home, in Florida, and it’s his birthday and I forgot to call him.” She had no idea where that excuse came from, but it was a lot better than saying, “I think you’re the coolest guy I’ve ever met, but Massie won’t like me if I hang out with you because she thinks you’re a Harris wannabe.”

Cam’s face turn red. The burst of color made his blue eye look greener than usual. “A boyfriend?” His expression hardened. “What?”

Claire wrapped the laces on her Keds around her index finger until it turned purple and throbbed.

“If you don’t like me, just say so,” Cam said softly. Then his voice cracked. “You don’t have to lie.”

“I like you,” Claire said too quickly. “I mean, I’m not lying.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t your brother ever mention it?” Cam crushed the Coke can in his fist and the popping sounds of the aluminum sounded like gun shots.

“I—I didn’t think you liked me that way.” Claire knew Cam would never buy that excuse, but the words came out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them.

“How could you not know?” he asked. “I wrote you letters, burned CDs for you, and always asked you to hang out.”

“I thought you were being friendly,” Claire said. “You know, ’cause I’m new here.” She felt her throat lock.

Cam couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He was too busy digging his thumb into the carpet.

“If I didn’t have a boyfriend, I’d definitely like you.” Claire knew that sounded stupid and was desperate to tell him the truth. But it was too late.

Cam jumped to his feet and ran his hands through his dark wavy hair.

“You should probably leave.” Cam pointed to the stairs. “I’m sure your
boyfriend
is wondering where you are.”

Claire wanted to hug him and smell his Drakkar Noir one last time. She wanted to tell him that she’d memorized his note because she had read it more than one hundred times. She wanted him to know that she’d learned every word to every Strokes song on the CD he made for her and that she thought his leather jacket looked cool all beat up, even though Massie insisted he’d look cuter in a new one.

“Sorry,” Claire said as she stood up. It was the only thing she’d said all night that she actually meant.

“Whatever,” Cam said to the brown carpet.

Claire ran up the stairs two at a time. She raced past the kitchen and bolted out the front door. Her coat was still on the banister, but she was too upset to go back in and grab it. All Claire wanted to do was go home, take off Alicia’s tight jeans, and cry in peace.

The Fishers’ porch light was off and the driveway was empty. There was no sign of the black Mustang or Alicia’s Schwinn. Were they actually out on a date? Whatever they were doing, Claire knew Alicia was having a much better time than she was. The backs of Claire’s eyes suddenly felt hot. The tears came.

Claire was about to get on her bike when the rustling leaves of the neighbor’s shrub caught her attention.

“Alicia? Harris?” she whispered. “You back there?”

There was no answer, just more rustling. Claire was about to call again when she thought maybe they didn’t want to be disturbed.

“Pssst,” Claire heard from behind the bushes. “Over ’ere.”

“Alicia, what are you doing?” Claire searched the darkness and wiped her eyes. She could feel the cold air penetrating her sweater but didn’t care. All she could think about was the sadness behind Cam’s eyes and how she was responsible for it.

“Pssst,” she heard again. Someone poked a red, white, and blue Firecracker Popsicle out of the bushes and waved it around in the air. Claire started crying again. This time they were happy tears.

“Layne!” Claire said, running toward the Popsicle. “You’re the best!” Layne’s orthodontist had recently banned her from popcorn and mustard, which she’d been munching for the last month, because he thought the kernels might crack one of the brackets on her teeth. So she switched and made Popsicles her latest food obsession.

Layne tossed her Popsicle on the neighbor’s lawn. She crawled out of the bushes on her hands and knees. Once she was on her feet, the girls hugged and rocked back and forth.

“What are you doing here?” Claire asked when they broke apart.

“I got your message,” Layne said. Her lips were stained blue and her teeth were chattering.

“Huh?”

“You told me you were breaking up with Cam and you wanted to know if I would go with you,” Layne shouted. “Am I too late?”

“Shhh.” Claire put her hand over Layne’s mouth. She had forgotten all about the message but was happy she’d left it.

A voice from behind the bush said, “Hey, Lyons.”

Claire jumped and grabbed Layne’s arm. “Who’s that?”

“It’s Eli,” Layne said. “I had to bring him. My mom wouldn’t let me bike alone in the dark.”

Normally Claire didn’t like hanging out with Layne’s know-it-all, eyeliner-wearing, punk rock boyfriend Eli. But tonight she welcomed the friendly face.

“Can we get out of here?” Claire said.

“Gladly,” Layne said, picking her bike up off the ground. It was covered in bumper stickers and had silver tassels hanging from the handlebars. Eli’s plain black bike looked naked in comparison.

The three walked their bikes down Holly Road, shivering and talking in hushed tones.

“I would ask how the breakup went, but I can pretty much tell by looking at your bloodshot eyes,” Layne said.

Claire wiped her face with the back of her ice-cold hand.

“Why did you dump him if you like him so much?” Eli asked, twisting his silver skull bracelet.

Layne adjusted the orange floppy pom-pom on top of her striped hat. “I’m sure it had something to do with Massie Block.”

“What does Massie have to do with it?” Eli asked.

“She’s a controlling witch who thinks she has a right to tell Claire who she can like.”

“That’s not totally true.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Layne said. “You’re ten times cooler than those girls. Stop trying to make them like you. It’s pathetic. Why aren’t I good enough for you?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with Layne?” Eli said, ringing the bell on his bike for emphasis.

“Of course you’re good enough. It’s not that. But I practically live with her. It would be nice if we got along.” Claire was so upset, she barely felt the cold wind whip her tearstained cheeks. “Besides, how many times have you asked me what Massie’s bedroom looks like or what kind of grades she gets or what she wears on the weekends?” Claire said, suddenly wishing she had never left that message for Layne. “You’ve even asked me if they talk about you.”

“Yeah, but that was before,” Layne said.

“Before what?”

“Before I stopped caring.”

“Yeah.” Eli rang his bell again.

Claire rolled her eyes. “Right, like you don’t care.”

Layne stopped in front of the iron signpost. It said The Block Estate in white script. “I’ll prove it. You’ll see.”

Claire had no idea how Layne would “prove” she didn’t care what Massie thought of her. But she hoped Layne wouldn’t go too far. Claire didn’t want her to be Massie’s next victim.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Layne said as she rode off on her bike.

“’Kay.” Claire waved goodbye. “Thanks for being there.”

Claire rode past GLU headquarters on her way to the guesthouse and decided to stop in and say hi to Massie, Kristen, and Dylan. If they were nice to her, she would know she did the right thing by breaking up with Cam. And if they weren’t … She shook the thought from her head.

Claire tapped on the glass door and the three girls shrieked.

“It’s just me.” Claire stepped inside.

“We thought you were a murderer.” Massie’s hand was on her heart. Kristen and Dylan were hiding under their cashmere blankets.

“How long have you been outside?” Dylan asked.

“Yeah.” Kristen elbowed Dylan. “Have you been listening to us
all night?”
She spoke slowly, like she was talking to a foreign exchange student.

“No, it’s freezing out,” Claire said, annoyed that they were already accusing her of something. “Anyway, I just got home.”

“Why is your face all puffy?” Massie demanded. “Salt your popcorn much?”

Dylan and Kristen laughed.

Claire could feel her eyes welling up all over again. “I told Cam I didn’t want to hang out with him anymore.”

“Tell me what happened.” Massie walked over to Claire and held her close. The smell of Chanel No. 19 filled the air and surrounded her like an invisible fortress. “Tell me everything,” Massie said, rubbing her back.

“H-he Hooked so s-s-aaad,” Claire wailed. She was a leaky mess of tears and snot.

“Why don’t you stay with us tonight?” Massie offered. “You can have Alicia’s old sleeping bag.”

“Yeah,” Dylan said, clearing a space.

“You can share my blanket,” Kristen offered.

“Really?” Claire wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her lavender sweater.