Revenge of the Wannabes (3 page)

Alicia had been haunted for days by what she and Olivia had done to Massie and Claire during that contest. She felt a little guilty for switching the ballot boxes moments before the judges tallied the scores, but she had been desperate to win. She was tired of taking second place and wanted to know what it felt like to be number one.

And it felt great.

Since then Alicia wondered if Massie suspected what they had done. Every night she would lie awake in bed and relive the day’s events in her mind, analyzing every word Massie said and every gesture she made, desperate to figure out how much she knew. Massie had been acting completely normal, though, so after nearly a week of nerve-racking days and restless nights Alicia figured she had gotten away with it. But every now and then she had to wonder, because Massie always had a way of finding these things out.

“This has nothing to do with Massie, okay?” Alicia folded her arms across her chest. “I should be
allowed
to have my own sleepover if I want.”

“No one is stopping you.” Nadia smirked and shook her head. “Go from it.”

Len chuckled and immediately put his hand over his mouth.

Alicia knew her mother meant to say “go for it,” but she sometimes mixed up American expressions. Alicia stood up from her chair and hurried to the winding staircase.

When she got to her bedroom, she closed the door and locked it. Ever since her room had been redecorated two years earlier, it had been her favorite place on the planet. She’d wanted it to look like the kind of bedroom Jasmin would have in
Aladdin
and it did … only Alicia’s also had a walk-in closet and a private bathroom.

The walls were painted deep red and orange and the canopy that hung over her bed was gold. Her CDs were tucked away in tall wood cases that looked like towers, and multicolored “magic carpets” were spread out across the floor. But nothing topped the cozy “reading nook” in the far corner of her room. It was piled high with Moroccan pillows and cashmere blankets. It was perfect for long phone conversations. Alicia flipped open her brand-new Motorola picture phone and flopped down on a stack of velvet cushions. She had five new messages.

1. “Hey, Leesh, it’s Massie. Just wanted to let you know what tomorrow’s Sleepover Activity is. READY?” [a second of pause] “I was thinking we could decorate our jeans. How
ah-dorable
, right? I’m getting special paint and rhinestones and glitter and a bunch of patterns, so bring a few pairs of Sevens or something. ’Kay? Laytah.”

2. “Hey, Alicia, it’s Catherine. Wondering what time we should come over tomorrow night. My mom is trying to coordinate a carpool with Meredith’s mom. Call me. Bye.”

3. “Hey, Alicia, it’s Meredith. Just wanted to find out what time you want to make me over tomorrow night. My mom is trying to coordinate a carpool with Catherine’s mom. Call me. Bye.”

4. “Hi, my name is Dan Sir Scout. I heard you were an amazing dancer and I would like to recruit you for my troupe. We will be traveling to hot boys’ schools around the country in a stretch Hummer and—[burst of laughter] Okay, just kidding, it’s me. Olivia. Just checking in to make sure you were still alive after you told Massie you weren’t going to her sleepover. Call me. Oh, and you were
ah-mazing
today in dance. ’Kay. Bye.”

5. “Hey, Leesh, it’s Kristen. Just wondering if you happen to have an extra pair of old Sevens or something. My mom will kill me if I come back from Massie’s sleepover with paint on my jeans. Dylan said I could use a pair of hers, but they’d probably be too big on me. So let me know if that’s cool. ’Kay? Thanks. See ya tomorrow.”

Alicia felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her Mouth Went Dry And Her Throat Tightened. Too many thoughts were racing through her head and she didn’t know what to do first. Call Massie? Cancel the sleepover? Find jeans for Kristen? Leave town?

She stood up, hurried over to the silver mini-fridge under her desk, and pulled out a diet root beer. She twisted off the cap on the cold glass bottle and took a long drink. The rush of fizz woke her senses and helped her think straight. After the second sip, Alicia knew what she needed to do. She slammed the bottle down on her Formica desk, stepped into the bathroom, and locked the door behind her.

The walls and ceiling were covered in gold and sea green tiles. The rest of the bathroom was decorated in art deco antiques her mother had collected over the years.

Alicia’s favorite was an old makeup vanity that had originally been part of a 1940s hair salon. A tall oval-shaped mirror was attached to the far side of the marble countertop and rose into the air like a peacock’s feathers. A beat-up Honda motorcycle seat from one of her father’s old Hogs served as the seat. For the last year it had become much more than a place for Alicia to apply her mascara. It was her newsroom.

She sat down on the motorcycle seat and faced the mirror. Then she opened the vanity’s only drawer and pulled out an old karaoke microphone.

“How much time do I have, Phil?” Alicia asked as she fluffed up her hair.

She imagined Phil saying, “You’re on in five seconds … four … three … two …” and then giving her the hand signal to let her know she was live and on the air.

“Good evening, Westchester,” Alicia said to her reflection. “We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you this breaking news story. Alicia Rivera, the new
Teen Vogue
sensation, wants to throw her own Friday night sleepover party tomorrow night. Will Massie Block understand, or will it be the end of their friendship as we know it? Alicia is too nervous to comment but wants it known that she means no harm to Massie or her other best friends, Kristen and Dylan. She isn’t looking for trouble; in fact, she hopes Massie and the others will join her as she gives Meredith the Mouse a makeover. If anyone has any advice for Alicia on how to tell Massie about this new development, please call the hotline number at the bottom of your screen. Alicia, our prayers are with you. Thanks and good night.”

Alicia placed the microphone back in its drawer and unlocked her bedroom door. She always felt better after a newscast. There was nothing she liked more than reporting gossip, and being an anchorwoman was the most respectable way to do it.

Alicia was thinking more clearly now and powered up her eMAC so she could send Massie an IM.

HOLAGURRL:
DON’T PICK ME UP 2MORROW. DEAN IS TAKING ME 2 SCHOOL CUZ I HAVE 2 GO 2 THE DR.

HOLAGURRL HAS SIGNED OFF AT 8:57
PM
.

By passing up her usual seat in Massie’s carpool, Alicia would be able to delay an awkward confrontation with her by at least thirty minutes.

O
CTAVIAN
C
OUNTRY
D
AY
S
CHOOL

8:25
AM
November 14th

The next morning Alicia felt lightheaded and slightly nauseous. She declined her English muffin with raspberry jelly for two sips of apple juice. She was too nervous to eat.

“What is wrong with you?” Nadia asked as Joyce, their live-in housekeeper, scraped Alicia’s uneaten food into the garbage. “Are you anxious about
Teen Vogue?
You shouldn’t be. You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Alicia replied, knowing that she’d made the right choice by going with the camel Ralph Lauren suede cargo pants, turquoise-and-brown argyle V-necked sweater, and brown nubby Nanette Lepore blazer with the flirty turquoise flower on the lapel.

Alicia was glad she’d had the foresight to plan her outfit days in advance, because she was too stressed about Massie and the sleepover to give it the proper attention.

“I told you, I’m worried about my history quiz,” Alicia said, avoiding eye contact with her mother. “That’s why I asked Dean to take me early. I want to go over my notes one more time before class.”

She grabbed her Prada bag and headed toward the door.

“Good luck today.” Nadia kissed her daughter’s forehead.

“Thanks, I’ll need it.”

Alicia’s real plan was to get her books and hide out in math class until the first-period bell rang. She knew she couldn’t avoid Massie forever but thought it was a good idea to lay low until she could think of the best way to tell her about the sleepover. But a traffic accident slowed down the morning commute and Alicia arrived at her locker the same exact time as Massie.

“I like your outfit today,” Alicia said to Massie as Massie took off her black wool coat.

Massie adjusted the thick black leather belt so it hung perfectly around her emerald green drop-waist jersey dress. “I got it last night after school.” The dress had cap sleeves and Massie was wearing a long-sleeved gray shirt underneath, paired with matching gray tights and black wedge ankle boots.

Alicia wished they could trade outfits. Massie looked way more
Teen Vogue
than Alicia did. “Well, I think it looks great,” she said, aware of her own shaky voice.

“Cool.” Massie smiled, but her eyes stayed fixed.

Alicia looked away. Did Massie already know?

“Gawd,” Massie said, looking down the long hall. “Where are Kristen and Dylan with my chai latte? I would have asked them to get you one, but I thought you had a doctor’s appointment.”

Alicia crouched on the floor and pretended to search her bag for something important, her face protected by a wall of shiny black hair. “It was canceled. He had an emergency surgery.”

Alicia peeked through a space in her hair to see if Massie was buying it; so far, so good. Massie was rifling through her pencil case.

“I can’t find my favorite fuzzy purple pen.”

Alicia exhaled for the first time all morning. Maybe Massie believed her.

“What’s wrong with you, by the way?” Massie asked. “Huh?” Alicia became aware of her quickening heartbeat.

“Why did you have to go to the doctor?”

“Oh, uh, ’cause—”

“There you are,” Olivia interrupted. “What’s up with the sleepover tonight? Catherine and Meredith keep calling me for a time.” Her white-blond hair was twisted into a ballerina bun on top of her head and her big navy blue eyes looked wide and innocent. “It would be so much easier if they just went to this school. Maybe they’ll transfer next semester.”

Alicia’s olive skin turned gray. Then white.

Massie turned to Olivia. “Who are Catherine and Meredith and why do they think they are coming to my sleepover?”

“We’re back!” A clump of Dylan’s long red hair was stuck to her lip gloss. “Help,” she said, trying to remove it by lifting her shoulder to her mouth. “Someone help me; my hands are full.” She was barely balancing a to-go box of lattes.

Kristen dropped her book of crossword puzzles on the floor and stood on her toes to pull the hair away for Dylan.

“Thank you,” she said before turning to Massie. “The line at Starbucks was in-sane.”

“I say we try that new Dr. Juice place that opened up across the street. Starbucks is so September,” Massie said.

“Great idea,” Dylan said, wiping her tea-soaked hands on her Citizen of Humanity jeans. “I’m over this.”

Alicia prayed for a fire drill.

“Hey, Leesh, what are you doing here? Didn’t you have a doctor’s appointment?” Kristen said as she took a cup out of the box and handed it to Massie. But Massie ignored her, refusing to take her amber eyes off Olivia. Kristen handed the cup to Dylan.

“What?” Olivia took a few steps back. “Why are you staring at me?”

“You were talking about my sleepover,” Massie said, hooking a piece of dark brown hair behind her ear.

“No, I wasn’t,” Olivia said with an understanding smile. “I was talking about Alicia’s. But you’re going to come, right?”

“I don’t remember getting an invitation,” Massie shot at Alicia.

“It’s so funny, I was just about to explain when—”

“When what? When you decided it would just be easier to steal my identity?” Massie put her hands on her hips and stuck out her neck so her face was a little closer to Alicia’s. “What is this,
Freaky Friday?
”

“I wasn’t trying to steal your identity,” Alicia said, not exactly sure
what
she was trying to do.

Massie rolled her eyes and looked at Kristen and Dylan. The two girls tilted their heads and looked at Alicia. Dylan broke the tension by burping the words
Freaky Friday
. Kristen and Olivia busted out laughing.

Alicia wanted desperately to laugh with them. She wished she had never thought of hosting her own sleepover party and wanted her friends back. But Massie’s scowl reminded her that she was in too deep to just walk away without a scratch.

“Look,” Alicia said, trying to stay calm. “This girl from jazz asked if I would give her a makeover and this was the only night she could do it.” She noticed Massie’s face starting to soften and Alicia thought that everything was going to be okay. “We’re going to eat tapas and drink virgin sangria and I would love it if you guys came—”

“Puh-lease,” Massie said. “Spare me the whole European act. You are more fake than Olivia’s nose.”

Kristen and Dylan giggled and Olivia turned bright red. Alicia widened her eyes and gasped.

“Don’t look so surprised. I know all about your father being Fannish,” Massie said.

“What?”

“Fake Spanish?” Massie said, as if everyone should have known what
Fannish
meant. “I happen to know his real name is Len
Rivers
, NOT Len Rivera. He’s from Brooklyn, not Barcelona, and he made up that last name so your grandmother would bless their marriage. So please stop trying to impress us.”

“Ehmagawd,” Kristen said. “I need a six-letter word for
scandal
starting with
g
.”

Alicia was usually the first one to try and guess Kristen’s word games, but she wasn’t in the mood for games.

“Gossip,” Massie shouted. “Gossip, gossip, gossip!”

“How did you know—” Alicia started to ask. But Massie wasn’t through with her yet.

“Face it, Alicia, you are an Eternal Wannabe, or EW, as I like to call them.” Massie put her hands on her hips and stuck her neck out. “You are never going to
be me
and your dad is never going to be from Spain, no matter how hard you both try.”