-m a y b e-
o n e;
-d a y-
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One;
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For the first time in her precious, privileged, sheltered thirteen years, Massie Block understood what it was like to be heartbroken. Her witty comebacks were stuck in her throat. She couldn't speak, couldn't move, and definitely could not tear herself away from the scene unfolding before her very amber eyes.
It involved kissing. Lips and tongues, honest-to-God, kissing. To be more specific, her best friend Claire Lyons' chapped lips and her almost-boyfriend Dempsey Solomon's snake-like tongue. Gross. No. It was more than that. It was grotesque, terrifying, and downright monstrous.
The hands-on couple was shielded by rows upon rows of shining silver lockers. One was decorated with lime green and cotton candy pink streamers and foam lettering that spelled out "HAPPY BDAY, SOPH!" Massie stood a good distance away from them. She couldn't make herself move, anyhow.
Massie gulped back her fears, and, if she was being truthful to herself which she usually wasn't, her tears. The couple was too close for her comfort; theirs' maybe. Claire was smiling into Dempsey's lips. His hunter green eyes were glowing with - pure, unadulterated bliss?
Desperately, oh-so-desperately, she wanted to root through her smog-coloured suede Foley + Corinna handbag for October's flavour of Glossip Girl: Pumpkin Parfait. Massie knew this was an impossibility. Even four-hundred-plus-dollar purses had loud, obnoxious zippers. She would make a scene. That would not be the best outcome for anyone. Not herself. Not even those secret lovers, Claire and Dempsey.
Something had to be done. And, yes, a scene would be made. Just not now. There wasn't anyone to watch Claire's epic fall from the NPC; it would take all the fun away from a good revenge plot.
Ideas - evil ones at that - were already swirling around her head. Massie tucked her fading purple streak behind her sun-dappled ear. That day, on October twelfth, at precisely 15:55:03, Massie made a pact with herself and herself alone. Claire Lyons would go down. And she'd bring Dempsey Solomon tumbling down with her.
--
Every pretty girl has a secret... The words Alicia had once cooed after finishing Pretty Little Liars, which was the book she'd chosen for a report last year, echoed through Massie's pounding head. She could feel the pulse of her veins, the rush of blood in her ears.
And there she stood, on the stone steps ascending towards the grey castle of beauty known as BOCD, all alone. Sure, a few LBRs were milling about, mostly seventh graders or dumb kids who went to 'remedial.' Of course, Massie spotted River Scott, who was a forward on the guys' soccer team, macking with his petite and pretty Asian girlfriend.
Massie wracked her brain for a name for the face. Janine? Jeanette? It was some old-fashioned name that started with a 'J,' Massie just couldn't figure out what.
As for Massie's secret... She was, plain and simple, a math prodigy. Although she gracefully ignored her Honours Math teacher, Ms. Levy's suggestion to join the travelling, statewide Math Quiz team, she couldn't ignore the 'extra credit' points given for becoming a math tutor. So that was how Massie found herself, three times a week since the beginning of the month, helping poor unfortunates divide fractions and multiply integers.
A shiver made its way through the bell sleeves of her lavender Donna Karan coat, prickling when it found her spine. She shuddered, unwrapping the wool scarf in multiple shades of purple that was loosely knotted around her swanlike neck and tied it, tighter this time.
Isaac was nowhere to be found.
Had he...forgotten?
The brunette shook the idea out of her head. No one, no one, forgot about Massie V. Block! This was...an outrage! Massie quickly pulled out her phone. Oh, wait... Isaac didn't have a cell phone. Then, she speed-dialed the Estate. "Hello, you've reached the home of Kendra, William, and Massie Block. We're not here right no-" UGH!
Adopting Alicia's signature pose, Massie folded her arms over her chest. The nerve! In her light grey pipe cleaner-snug skinny jeans and black lace tunic-top, which was unfortunately concealed by the aforementioned DK coat, Massie was in no way dressed for the cold snap that had befallen Westchester County, seemingly overnight.
"Hey," a hesitant, girlie voice called out. "Do you need a lift, Massie?"
Her amber eyes scanned the milling-about BOCD'ers for the disembodied voice's owner. She saw a petite seventh grader with a side-braid waving her pink mitten-clad hand. "Over here!" the girl shouted, her voice becoming louder.
Massie's lower lip quivered. Should she go with this sweet but LBRish girl and risk having the whole school know her driver couldn't be bothered to pick her up? Or...risk waiting outside for the rest of her young life?
"Sure, thanks."
--
The car was a little green Nissan that was beginning to show signs of wear. A light dusting of frost covered the windows and made Massie feel like she was stuck inside a snow globe.
"You're really smart," the girl said abruptly, breaking the wall of silence that had formed around them. The seventh grader's mom was singing along to a rap song that was currently playing on Ryan Secreast's radio station. To say the least, she wouldn't be crowned an American Idol anytime soon. Heck, she didn't even have a shot at Canadian Idol, where the standards were so much lower.
"Thanks." Massie tossed a little, weak smile at her, even though inside she was thinking: Just another loyal follower...
"My name's Cordelia," the girl prodded, her tone oozing hopefulness, "You tutored me in Math today...?"
"Of course." The ice queen broke into a wide grin. Now, she remembered! Cordelia Jenks, the cutie with the upturned nose, who she'd helped with variables. "I just had..." She wracked her brain for an appropriate excuse, "A total memory blank."
"No problem," Cordelia excused, fiddling with the short hem of the Old Navy corduroy skirt she wore over red-and-pink striped tights. "My older brother forgets things all the time. I have to tell him when he has sports practices."
"Does your brother go to BOCD?" Massie inquired, not even having to feign interest. This girl was cute and her brother could be potential HART material, even if they were hippie-esque with their broken-down car.
"Nope." She shook her head vigorously and smiled widely, giving the eighth-grader a first class view of flamingo pink braces. "He goes to Abner Doubleday."
Pause.
"Oh," Massie recovered quickly, placing her palms flat against her toned thighs. "That's cool, too."
Cordelia nodded encouragingly. "I knew you would think that, Massie. Lots of girls won't hang out with me because I'm on scholarship and my brother goes to public school."
Oh. Scholarship kid. This girl should start some kind of club with Kristen, Massie thought.
"We're going to his baseball game right now," Cordelia's mom added over her shoulder, as the pulled into Abner Doubleday Day's parking lot. "I'll drop you off after I wish the team good-luck."
After undoing the complicated seat belt, Massie slid gracefully out of the Nissan, careful not to scuff her new shoes on a pebble or Redbull can. Surprisingly, ADD wasn't a trailer with porta-potties surrounding it like she'd originally pictured. Instead, it was a school, made of grey stone, that looked a lot like OCD but with graffiti that no one bothered to clean on the entries and exits. In addition to the school, there was a regulation-size soccer field with two baseball diamonds on the far corners of it. It was actually a nice place.
Massie, feeling out of place in her couture, followed in the footsteps of Cordelia and the girl's mom. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed some non-uniform-wearing guys milling about the soccer field. On the benches beside the diamond, a team of guys, wearing blue-and-white jerseys, were punching each other and laughing too loudly to ever be excepted in the private school society.
When they were approaching, another round of shoulder-punches rippled through the group. Some of them just went "Oooooh. Someone's in trrrouuubllle..." Massie found her amber eyes sparkling, beyond her own control.
A giraffe-tall guy, with long, dark brown hair that curled under his collar, came up to them. He was in a blue jersey, with ADD Aardvarks on the chest, and 19 on the back, just like the rest of the guys. Under his team jersey, the collar of a mint green polo was visible. He had endlessly long legs - Massie noted, a blush creeping its way across her winter-pale cheeks - and wore loose sneakers.
"Hey, Mom," the baseball player said, throwing a half-hearted arm around his mother's neck. "Cordy finally got a friend?" he said, presumably to his mom, although his dark eyes were locked with Massie's.
"No, actually," Cordelia's mother replied. To this, her daughter gave an indignant snort and a "Hey!"
"I'm Massie Block, your sister's math tutor." Although the formal greeting called for a handshake, Massie intertwined her French-tipped fingers behind her back instead.
"Ah." He nodded sagely. "The genius we've been hearing about forever."
Massie couldn't help smiling at that. Aw! Someone thought she was a genius! Around her friends, Massie had to giggle at the Mathletes and their so-last-season Juicy tracksuits. Around her friends, Massie had to pretend that Daddy had paid for her spot in Honours Math. When really, Massie's wow-worthy test scores had done that for her.
"I guess that's me," she responded quickly.
"Michael," he introduced, rubbing at the back of his neck with a large hand.
"Massie," she repeated.
"Did you...want to stay for the game?" he nodded his head back at the gaggle of jersey-wearers, who were observing the unfolding scene.
"Sure."
--
Would you rather have this Massie/Michael or Massington?