Revenge of the Wannabes (27 page)

Claire quickly hopped out of her seat. “Look,” she said to Massie, her face glowing. Cam had left a CD on her chair called
The Claire Doesn’t Have a Boyfriend in Florida Mix
. “How cute is he?”

Claire pinched Massie’s elbow and smiled excitedly. And Massie giggled and pinched back. Only it was the idea of seeing Derrington on Monday that made
her
happy. That and the fact that she could pinch Claire’s elbow again.

N
EW
Y
ORK
C
ITY
M
EAT
P
ACKING
D
ISTRICT

11:45
AM
December 6th

Alicia tightened the white cashmere scarf around her neck, wishing she had chosen a different outfit. Her black drawstring satin karate pants and gray cowl neck were keeping her warm; it wasn’t that. She just didn’t look half as “West Side bohemian with money” as Massie did and was suffering from an extreme case of ensemble envy. Alicia would have given anything to trade her boring Calvin Klein separates for Massie’s wispy knee-length paisley dress and faded boot-cut Juicy jeans. The only thing she had going for her was the Dixon that wrapped around her thigh.

“What is that on your leg?” Lucinda asked. They were standing on the corner of a gritty cobblestone street called Gansevoort in the Meat Packing District, New York City’s latest IT shopping mecca.

“What do you mean?” Alicia said, looking confused. “It’s the Dixon you gave me. The thing Avril was wearing on her cover shoot.”

“Why is it on your leg?”

“You said there were fifty-eight ways to wear it,” Alicia said. “I assume this is one of them.” She looked at Faux-livia for backup.

“Yeah, the leg is number thirty-seven,” Faux said.

“Well, I made a bit of a mistake,” Lucinda said. “That thing you’re wearing was part of the packing materials. It’s a scrap. My brain-dead assistant pulled the wrong thing. The Dixon is really a soft wire accessory that can be bent into fifty-eight different shapes.”

“Oh.” Alicia and Faux-livia quickly rolled the mesh scraps off their legs and tossed them in a trash can. Luckily Massie had been whispering something to Kristen, Claire, and Dylan and missed the whole thing.

“All right, ladies.” Lucinda adjusted her oversized black fleece cowboy hat. “You have until two o’clock to buy the looks you want to wear on the shoot this afternoon.”

“It took me longer to buy a winter coat for my
dog,”
Massie whined. The girls giggled, so she continued with her gripe. “How are we supposed to find something ah-mazing to wear in
two hours?
It’s not like we shop in the Meat Packing District every day.”

Alicia had been thinking the same thing and was mad she hadn’t spoken up sooner. “Do you have a floor plan or something?”

Everyone laughed at Alicia’s question.

“I’m only kidding.” She giggled, trying to hide her embarrassment. Alicia was still trying to get over the humiliation she felt after losing Claire to Massie at Sushi Samba. Any more mess-ups and Strawberry, Kori, and Faux-livia would lose all faith in her as an alpha.

“You’ll be fine,” Lucinda said, trying to reassure them. “This area is more concentrated than Paul Mitchell’s Hair Repair.” She smiled to herself. “Scoop, Jeffrey, Stella McCartney, and Alexander McQueen are all right here. If I only shopped in these four stores for the rest of my life, I’d be set.” She tossed her gold-coin-covered scarf over her shoulder. “Let’s move.”

Lucinda led the way. A pigeon lay dead with its guts spilled out in the middle of the road and a group of women in high-heeled boots stepped in it as though it were a glistening drop of spring water. Big green bags of trash were stacked on the curb outside every restaurant they passed, and the smell of chicken feathers hung in the unseasonably still air. Alicia swallowed twice, trying her hardest not to barf up the bagel and cream cheese she had for breakfast.

“Isn’t this neighborhood the coolest?” Lucinda turned around and asked the girls. “You’d never know that just a few years ago, these stores were animal slaughterhouses.”

“Uh, I would,” Massie shouted. She was trailing behind the rest of the group with Kristen, Dylan, and Claire. “It’s disgusting.”

Everyone laughed at Massie’s honest reaction, even Lucinda. And Alicia cursed herself again for not beating Massie to the punch.

“Let’s cross here,” Lucinda said. She stood on the curb in front of the Little Pie Company, waiting for the Pretty Committee to catch up. She reminded Alicia of a parent chaperone on an OCD field trip. “These jagged cobblestone streets will take you down if you’re wearing heels, girls, so walk on your tiptoes.”

Paolo jogged backward, snapping shots of all eight girls walking toward their first store. “Girls, will you
please
get closer together? My lens is only so wide, you know.”

Alicia, Faux, Kori, and Strawberry stopped walking to let Massie, Kristen, Alicia, and Claire catch up. But every time Lucinda slowed down, they did too.

“Ugh,” Paolo said, showing his frustration. “You girls are killing me.”

Lucinda tapped her green leather cowboy boot while she waited for everyone to cross. “Now remember,” she said once they were all together again, “don’t buy anything with horizontal stripes—they make you look wide—no black because it’s dowdy, and
nothing
with a logo or label on the front. You’re models, not billboards.”

“No
labels?
” Alicia snapped, pleased with herself for speaking up before Massie.

“Of course no labels,” Massie said. “Do you know how much money the magazine makes on advertising? Why give it away for free when they can get paid for it?”

“She’s absolutely right, Alicia,” Lucinda said to Massie. She was clueless to the growing tensions among the girls. “Wow, I’m impressed.”

Alicia stuck her tongue out at Massie, and Massie responded with one of her cocky half smiles. Paolo managed to capture the entire exchange.

“You girls should have your own reality show,” he said, still walking backward. “This is pure money.”

“You should be on
ER,”
Massie said to Paolo.

“Why?”

“Because you’re about to fa—” Massie shrieked.

Paolo backed right into a heap of stuffed garbage bags. His long skinny legs shot straight up into the air and disappeared over his head. Three containers of film rolled into the middle of Washington Street.

“Ehmagawd,” the girls shouted.

Alicia looked up at the bloated silver sky, trying her hardest not to laugh. She caught Massie’s eye for a spilt second and thought it looked like she was about to lose it too. Alicia knew that if they were still friends, they’d be doubled over in hysterics.

“I’m okay.” Paolo rolled onto his side, pushed himself off the trash heap, and stood up. He scooped up his camera gear and began blowing on his lens. “Watch out, little girl,” he said to Massie. “I know your bad side.”

“To know it is to love it,” Massie said, throwing her arms around Dylan and Kristen.

“To know it is to love it,” Paolo mimicked, doing his best bratty Massie impersonation.

Everyone laughed, even Alicia, who suddenly found herself missing her old best friends. She longed for the old beta days, when she would spread gossip, not instigate it, and regretted ever thinking she could be a better alpha than Massie. But it was too late to turn back now. She had Faux-livia, Strawberry, and Kori now. And they needed her.

“You each get three hundred dollars,” Lucinda said, doling out the cash while Paolo documented the transaction. “Except you two,” she said to Strawberry and Kori. “Sorry.”

The two girls shuffled to the outside of Lucinda’s tight circle of models.

Alicia ignored Strawberry and Kori’s pathetic expressions and reached inside her gold hobo sac. She touched her pink leather wallet to make sure she had her credit cards. Three hundred dollars would barely cover the cost of the chandelier earrings that were dripping off the mannequin in the window of the ultra-trendy Scoop.

Paolo went in first so he could snap the girls walking into the store. He took a few establishing shots of the fake Christmas tree in the middle of the store and the pierced and tattooed salespeople refolding messy piles of turtlenecks.

“Can we go in now?” Faux-livia asked.

Lucinda tapped on the window to make sure Paolo was ready for them. He gave her a thumbs-up. “Go ahead.”

“I feel like I’m in heaven,” Alicia said to Faux-livia, Strawberry, and Kori when they entered the all-white store and saw the incredible jeans selection on the back wall.

“Look at those shiny bags,” Faux said, pointing to festive glittery clutches along the glass countertop by the register.

“And those cool lace dresses,” Strawberry said. “I’m gonna go take a look.”

“I wanna check out their boots,” Kori announced before taking off and slamming into Massie, who had been carrying an armload of miniskirts that were now all over the ground. Kori and a salesguy raced to pick everything up while Massie stood above them with her hands on her hips.

“I can’t stand to watch this anymore,” Alicia said to Faux-livia. “I have to get those chandelier earrings before anyone else grabs them.”

On her way to the jewelry display, Alicia passed Dylan. She was looking at the lace dresses and stuffing her face with the free sugar cookies that had been hanging on the tree branches in wax envelopes.

Strawberry wandered up beside her and started looking at the same dresses.

“Why are you breathing down my neck?” Dylan asked Strawberry. “Do you want something?”

“’Kay,” Strawberry said, putting her clammy fingers all over the two cookies Dylan had in her hands.

“Uch, just take them,” Dylan said.

“Thanks,” Strawberry said with a grateful smile. “So what are you gonna buy?”

Alicia wanted to shop for earrings but couldn’t help listening in on their conversation, in case she had to jump in and save Strawberry.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna buy yet,” Dylan snapped.

“Let me help you—you know, since we kind of look alike and all,” Strawberry said.

“Puh-lease,” Dylan shouted. She wiped her crumby hands on a pair of pin-striped pants. “Your hair color comes from a packet of Kool-Aid and by the look of those thighs your nickname should be Pear, not Strawberry.”

“I was only trying to help,” Strawberry screeched. Her face turned bright red.

Alicia put the earring back on the velvet display board and ran to Strawberry’s side in case she started crying. “You okay?” she asked. But Strawberry ignored Alicia.

She grunted twice and whipped her half-eaten cookie on the shiny white floor. “You moose!” she shouted from a place deep within her and pushed Dylan into the metal rack of lace dresses.

Paolo snapped as many shots as he could before the security guard grabbed Strawberry by the back of her pink ponytail and dragged her outside.

Alicia buttoned her gray wool coat and ran after her. She followed Strawberry out of the store and chased her across 14th Street. She could hear Lucinda calling their names but ignored her.

Alicia finally caught up to Strawberry inside the Little Pie Company.

“You okay?” Alicia asked again, trying to catch her breath. She felt cold and sweaty at the same time and hoped
Teen Vogue
would be doing her hair and makeup before the shoot.

“She’s lucky I didn’t take one of those leather belts to her,” Strawberry said, without a trace of humor. “Blueberry tart, please!” she called to a man behind the counter who was in the middle of serving another customer.

Alicia felt her phone vibrating and reached into her bag to answer. She was grateful for the distraction.

“Hullo?”

“Hey, it’s Lucinda; we’re going to Jeffrey.” She hung up before Alicia could ask how Dylan was.

“You’re getting that tart to go,” Alicia told Strawberry.

When they got to Jeffrey, they were greeted by a doorman in a tuxedo. “You’ll find everything you need right up those stairs,” he said. They walked up three marble steps and straight into the cosmetics department. “Enjoy your beauty.”

The store looked more like Bloomie’s than a boutique. Beyond the makeup and perfume was an endless selection of clothes and shoes that seemed to stretch on for miles.

“I love it already,” Alicia said to Strawberry, who was sucking blueberry off her thumb. “Remember, stay away from Dylan. You’re better than her. Besides, you don’t want her to sue you. Her mother knows a million Hollywood lawyers.”

“Isn’t your dad a lawyer?” Strawberry said, wiping her hands on her coat.

“Yeah, her mother’s,” Alicia said.

“Whatever,” Strawberry said. “She started it.”

Alicia saw Massie and Dylan weaving in and out of the shoe display that cut through the middle of the entire store. Dylan’s ponytail was a little messy, but other than that, she looked fine.

“I have to shop,” Alicia said, trying to make up the time she lost chasing Strawberry.

“Fine, I’m going to hang in the front of the store by the cosmetics,” Strawberry said. “I need some new gloss.”

“Cool, see you in a bit.” Alicia sprinted toward the designer clothes in the back.

She knew exactly what she wanted. She had seen a fashion spread in
CosmoGIRL!
called Grecian Yearn, and Alicia wanted to make it her look for the holiday season. She needed a pair of pencil-straight jeans, preferably in a dark wash, and an ultra-feminine Greek-goddess-type minidress to wear over it. High heels, hopefully in a bold metallic color, would complete the look. Just then Alicia spotted the perfect pair.

“Do you have these bronze snakeskin mules in a size five?” Alicia asked the tidy, thin salesman in the shoe department. His black turtleneck was tucked into his black pleated pants and fastened with a thin black belt. He reminded Alicia of her mascara brush.

He plucked the shoe out of Alicia’s hand and turned it over to look at the price. “Is your mother a size five?” His free hand was bent behind his back.

“These are for
me,”
Alicia said.

“Honey, maybe you read the tag wrong,” he snipped. “These are six-hundred and forty-nine dollars, not sixty-four dollars and ninety cents,” he said, replacing the shoe on the big white display cube in the center of the floor.