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Authors: Lisi Harrison

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BOOK: Revenge of the Wannabes
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And off they went.

Their black lacquer table was covered in plates of glistening food: sweet-and-sour chicken, shrimp dumplings, moo shu pork, short ribs, wontons, and seven different dipping sauces. But the girls barely ate a thing. They were too busy trying to guess the fifty-eight different ways to wear their Dixons. They had come up with thirty-two by the time the check had arrived.

“How about we do a little exploring?” Dean reached across the hostess stand and grabbed a handful of tooth-picks on their way out the door.

“What about the concert?” Alicia asked. She broke into an impression of Beyoncé’s famous booty shake, right in the middle of Broadway. Olivia laughed so hard she burped.

“Why don’t we walk?” Dean stuck a toothpick between his two front teeth and Alicia looked away in disgust. “It’s only twenty short blocks. We can explore.”

Alicia and Olivia were already walking toward a guy wrapped in a wool blanket selling bootleg DVDs.

“I guess that means you’re up for it?” Dean said, following the girls to the wooden card table.

“Given,” Alicia said as they made their way downtown.

“Oh. My. God.” Olivia pointed to a man on the corner of 44th Street. He was standing behind a fold-out table just like the DVD guy’s, only his was covered in scarves. “Look at all of those Louis Vuittons!”

Stacks of white silk scarves dotted with green, red, purple, orange, blue, and black
LV
s were on display. A sign tacked to the edge of the table said
LOUIS VUITON SCARVES
$15.00.

“Fifteen dollars?” Olivia screeched. “Those are like three hundred bucks at home.”

“Are you serious?” Alicia said. She raised the corner of her upper lip to show her utter repulsion. “Oliv-i-ahhh, those are fake.”

Alicia reached into her purse and pulled out a sheet of
Lucky
stickers. She peeled off a
no
and stuck it on one of the scarves.

Olivia immediately tore off the sticker. “Why would you
say
that?”

“Look.” Alicia flicked the cardboard sign. “For starters,
this
Louis Vuitton spells his last name with one
t,
not two.” Alicia paused so Olivia could absorb the information. “And they’re only fifteen dollars.”

“So, they
look
real,” Olivia said.

“But they’re NOT!”

Alicia glanced at Dean for backup, but he shrugged and shook his head. He’d learned the hard way to stay out of Alicia’s shopping disputes.

“No one will ever know,” Olivia whispered. “I could give them away as holiday gifts. My shopping would be done before Thanksgiving.”

“I’ll give you a special deal,” said the guy behind the table. “Just for you, pretty lady.” He rubbed his black beard and squinted. He looked like he was giving this “special deal” some serious thought. “Ten for one hundred dollars.”

“Don’t do it,” Alicia said from the side of her mouth. “It’s a sin to give knockoffs at such a holy time of year.”

“Puh-lease,” Olivia said. “You’re just jealous ’cause you didn’t think of it first.” She handed five twenties to the guy in exchange for a handful of fake scarves.

“Whatevs,” Alicia said, tightening her grip around her Prada handbag. “Maybe we’ll go plastic Christmas tree shopping next.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m going to start calling you Faux-livia from now on because everything you have is fake.”

“Oh, really, Alicia RIVERS,” Olivia fired back.

Alicia felt her stomach drop. “Thanks a lot. I was finally starting to forget about Massie.”

“Sorry,” Olivia said, looking down at the sidewalk. “I was just kidding.”

“It’s okay. I can’t wait to tell her we’re going to be models. She’ll regret every mean thing she’s ever said to me.”

“How are you going to tell her? I thought you weren’t talking.”

“Oh, I’ll find a way,” Alicia said, the corners of her lips curling up into a devious smile. “I always do.”

S
UN OF A
B
EACH
T
ANNING
S
ALON

6:15
PM
November 14th

“I read that in California you have to be eighteen to go to a tanning salon,” Kristen said, braiding a small clump of light blond hair by her face. “You have to show ID and everything.”

“That’s only if you want to fake ’n’ bake.” Massie took every opportunity she could to correct her know-it-all friend. “Which
no
one does anymore.” She pulled off her gray tights and stuffed them in her boots. “Spray tans are much more
aujourd’hui.
Trust me, Kristen, you’re gonna love it.”

“What does
oh jor dwi
mean?” Dylan asked while pushing her red hair into a paper shower cap.

“Five-letter word for ‘in this day,’” Kristen said.

“Today,”
Massie said.

Dylan stomped her foot. “You never let
me
guess.”

“We don’t have time,” Massie told her. “We only have this booth until six-thirty
PM
.”

“Are you sure this spray tanning isn’t poisonous?” Kristen pushed the instructional video back in the VCR so she could watch it again.

“Stop.” Massie hit eject and grabbed the tape. “This is so easy. The only thing you have to worry about is the Lohan tan.”

“What?” Kristen shrieked. “I’m not doing this.” She grabbed her Miss Sixty jeans off the changing room floor and started getting dressed.

“Relax.” Dylan laughed and pulled the jeans off Kristen’s leg. “You won’t get it unless you’re an obsessive spray tanner like Lindsay Lohan. She is so orange, I swear she must have self-tanner coming out of her shower nozzle.”

“Just make sure you rub everything in and you’ll be fine,” Massie said. Kristen reached for the video, but Massie pulled her arm back before she could get it in the VCR again. “It couldn’t be easier. Watch me.”

Kristen, Dylan, and Massie squeezed into one of the narrow silver cylinders and forced the accordion-shaped door shut. The space outside the actual spray area was no bigger than a phone booth, but Massie didn’t mind the cramped quarters if it would get Kristen to put a little color on her pale body. The holiday parties were quickly approaching and it was important to Massie that they look better than anyone else in the room.

Massie dropped her towel and hit the big green On button outside the glass door. She waved goodbye to her friends and stepped inside. One second later she was blasted by a smelly cold brown mist. When the spray stopped, she turned around and let the second batch coat her back.

“That’s all there is to it,” she said, reaching for her towel so she could rub the muddy solution into her legs. She didn’t even stop to answer her phone.

“Can you grab that?” Massie asked Dylan. “My hands are sticky.”

Dylan pulled Massie’s phone out of her black leather Coach bag and checked the caller ID.

“It’s Alicia,” she said. “Should I hit ignore?”

“No, I bet she’s having a guilt moment at
Teen Vogue
and wants to beg for my forgiveness.” Massie grabbed the Motorola out of Dylan’s hand and flipped it open. One of the purple rhinestones Massie had glued to her phone fell off and bounced along the tin floor of the booth. She was instantly reminded of the way her charms had scattered across the classroom in her daydream. Massie squeezed her eyes shut to squash the memory. Her phone continued to ring.

“You think Alicia knows my mom’s been trying to put a stop to the uniform thing?” Dylan asked.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Massie said. “Lean in.” Once their three heads were pressed together, Massie hit talk.

“Hullo,” she said.

“Hey, it’s Alicia. I’m in New York City. …”

Massie rolled her eyes.

“I know you’re mad at me, but I just wanted to let you know I’m not having the sleepover party anymore.”

“And you want to get invited back to mine, right? Well, it’s too late. It starts in two hours—you’ll never make it back from
‘New York City.’”
Massie did her best to imitate Alicia’s obnoxious tone.

Dylan put her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“Relax, Massie,” Alicia snapped. “I don’t want to go to your lame sleepover. If I wanted to spend my night doing arts and crafts, I’d babysit a six-year-old. Besides, Olivia and I are going to the Beyoncé concert tonight.”

“No fair,” Kristen mouthed.

“Alicia, do I sell fertilizer?” Massie asked.

“No, why?” Alicia fell for Massie’s setup.

“Then why do you think I give a crap?”

Dylan and Kristen burst out laughing. Massie heard Alicia let out a frustrated sigh.

“I’m calling because I want my Calvin Klein winter white blazer back,” Alicia said.

“Why?, Are you packing up? Is the Rivers family finally moving back to Brooklyn?”

Kristen and Dylan laughed even harder this time and Massie pushed them away from the phone.

Alicia ignored the dig. “I was asked to model for
Teen Vogue
’s holiday issue and I may want to wear it.”

Massie suddenly felt like she was falling down a well. There was a loud ringing in her ears and she felt dizzy. Was this really happening? Alicia cheated and now she was being
rewarded
for it? Would Kristen and Dylan like Alicia more now that she was a model? Would the rest of the school?

Massie knew her expression must have changed to one of sheer horror, because Kristen and Dylan looked at her and mouthed, “What?” over and over again.

“Nothing,” Massie mouthed back.

“Look, I gotta go, the concert is about to start,” Alicia shouted over the screaming fans in the background. “Bring the blazer to school on Monday, ’kay?”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you,” Massie said. “What? What?” Then she hung up her phone. Her entire nervous system was in a state of shock.

“Share, please,” Dylan pleaded as she opened the door to the booth. “What did she say?”

“Oh, nothing, just that she got a job MODELING FOR
TEEN VOGUE!

“Huh?” Kristen screeched. “How?”

“I have no idea.” Massie was so furious, she put her green dress on inside out.

“Maybe she’s just a hand model or something,” Dylan offered.

“That should have been
us,
” Massie said. “If we’d won the contest,
we
would have been at
Teen Vogue
this afternoon and
we
would have been asked to model. Not
her.

“It’s not fair.” Dylan pressed the on button outside the tanning chamber and stepped inside. She closed her eyes and waited for the spray.

Massie was so blind with rage, she didn’t notice that Kristen was fully dressed. Suddenly her problems were much bigger than showing up at a holiday party with a pale friend. Her entire reputation was in jeopardy. What would people say when they found out Alicia was asked to model and she wasn’t?

Massie was silent for the next fifteen minutes. Once they were in the Blocks’ Range Rover, she finally said, “The time is now.”

“Huh?” Dylan said, grabbing a bowl of low-sodium cashews out of the minibar.

“Payback.”

“You mean we can finally stop being snakes that lie in the weeds?” Dylan said, recalling Massie’s strategy.

“Yup, let’s pounce.”

“Thank God.” Kristen sat up in her seat. “Can I get a seven-letter word for
vengeance?”
She threw her palm in the air and the others high-fived it.

“What’s the plan?” Dylan asked.

“I’ll tell you at the sleepover tonight,” Massie said. She needed time to think.

Isaac stopped the Range Rover in front of the luxurious Montador building.

“This is me.” Kristen opened the car door and waved to her doorman. “I’ll see you after dinner.” The overhead light in the car popped on. “Massie, what’s wrong with your face?”

Massie reached in her bag and pulled out her Chanel compact.

“Ehmagawd,” she screamed. “Alicia got me so pissed, I never finished rubbing in my tan.”

Dylan and Kristen immediately started laughing.

“It’s not funny,” Massie said, wiping her face. She pulled her dress away from her body and looked down at her stomach. “I’m all stripy. I look like a candy cane!”

“’Tis the season,” Kristen said.

“That’s even worse than the Lohan,” Dylan said.

“Isaac, we have to stop at Dr. Juice,” Massie barked toward the front seat. “I need a large Calm immediately. Then drop me off at home so I can exfoliate.”

“What about me?” Dylan asked.

“Isaac will take you last,” Massie said, examining her uneven arms. “This is an emergency.”

Kristen slammed the door and the car sped off down the street.

After the stop at Dr. Juice, Isaac pulled into the circular driveway in front of the Block estate and for the first time ever Massie wished she lived on a smaller piece of property. Suddenly the distance between the Range Rover and her shower seemed endless.

“See ya later,” Massie said to Dylan as she jumped out of the SUV with her bag in one hand and her banana, strawberry, and kava kava juice in the other.

She ran across the gravel of their circular driveway through the grass, and up the stone steps that led to the tall oak doors. Too frantic to search for her keys, Massie dropped her bag so she could pound the iron knocker and ring the bell with her elbow at the same time.

“What is it?” she could hear Kendra, her mother, shouting as she raced down the steps.

Inez beat her to it and opened the door.

“Look at me,” Massie wailed when she saw them.

“Your dress is on inside out,” Kendra said.

“No, my skin. My skin!” Massie said. “I’m uneven.”

Inez waved her hands in the air. “I have to check on dinner,” she said. This was a problem for Kendra, not her.

Massie felt her mother’s arm around her shoulders. She was gently being led into the sitting room, just off the front hallway. “Honey,” Kendra said softly when they were alone, “do you mind keeping it down? The women from my self-help book club are meeting in the upstairs parlor.” Kendra pinched the pink diamond on her necklace and slid it back and forth along her gold chain. “We’re reading
Power of Now
and trying to stay in a state of inner peace for just ten more minutes. Can we talk about it over supper?”

BOOK: Revenge of the Wannabes
2.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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