BLOCK ESTATE
GUESTHOUSE
9:03 PM
DECEMBER 29, 2012

Kristen and Claire had already set up their sleeping bags by the time Massie walked in. Inez followed her, carrying assorted plates, bowls, and cups, along with a tablecloth to spread on the floor.

"It's nice nawt having everyone," Claire commented. "It feels less party and more, you know, GLU." As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she realized she'd said the wrong thing.

"You mean you don't like Leesh and Dyl?" questioned Massie.

"It- never mind." She pulled a bag of Cheetos toward her and dug in.

"Let's FaceTime them or something," suggested Kristen.

"K." Massie picked up her iPad and clicked a few buttons. "Leesh! Dyl! What's up?"

"The sky," Dylan choked out.

"Thanks." Massie smirk-giggled. "Seriously, though."

"Other than the fact that we officially kicked out Vail and Zara? Nothing."

"You did nawt have my approval for that," she laugh-scolded.

The girls hung their heads in phony repentance.

"I wish you were here," Claire offered.

"Thanks, Kuh-laire," Alicia said, tying her cotton robe tighter so her boobs weren't popping out. "Miss you too."

"Yeah," Dylan added. "As soon as New Year's is over, we'll be back to ruling the school."

"Put your hands in," Massie ordered spontaneously. She stuck her manicured one toward the screen. Claire placed hers on top, and felt Kristen's on hers. Alicia and Dylan poked theirs near the screen. "On three. One, two..."

"To the Pretty Commitee!" they shouted.

BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL
ROOM 397
6:05 PM
DECEMBER 29, 2012

"Hello, room service."

"Yes, can I have a large grilled chicken salad and an order of penne alla vodka please? A 16-ounce Diet Coke and a water, and some double-fudge brownies?" Ignoring the dirty look Alicia sent her, she added, "And some fresh strawberry ice cream?"

"What- I don't want ice cream!"

"Too bad, so sad."

A knock sounded at the door, and Dylan went to open it. She held it wide for the smartly dressed man who was wheeling a black cart. With a flourish, he bowed, yanked a cloth napkin off his belt, and used it to open a platter. When his performance was over, the girls grinned and appluaded, and Dylan handed him a $20 tip. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome, missus." He closed the door behind him, and they dug in. At the end, all that was left was a bowl of strawberry ice cream.

"Eat it!" Dylan shoved it at Alicia's nose, smearing a little on her cheek in the process.

"No!" She pushed it away.

"Whatevs." She ate the frozen treat in a record minumum of a minute-and-a-half, then rang for hot chocolate, which she had served with the works, marshmallows and whipped cream.

"Pig." Alicia fishtail-braided her hair and looked out the window. "It's probably snowing back in Westchester," she mused.

"Yeah." She didn't feel like talking about her home county. "You wanna go out?"

"Where?"

"I dunno. Just somewhere for us two. Nawt Vail and Zara." She made a face.

"Sure." She dressed quickly in black leggings and a white crop top.

"Is that Hollister?" Dylan didn't believe her eyes.

"Maybe." She covered herself by folding her arms over her chest, as per her habit when she was embarassed.

Dylan threw on a zebra-print Ella Moss pencil skirt with a loose purple Fendi shirt pushed in. She grabbed a white Marc Jacobs handbag and left the room.

"Where to?" asked Alicia, glancing around.

"Beach?"

"You betcha."

And they zoomed away into the sunset.

BLOCK ESTATE
GUESTHOUSE
9:13 PM
DECEMBER 29, 2012

Yawning, Kristen reached into her duffel bag and retrieved the small cloth soccer ball she'd cuddled with ever since she was old enough to (sometimes) sleep through the night. She nestled it against her cheek and curled into a ball, closing her eyes. The sounds of Massie and Claire talking on the couch, with the blonde once in a while munching on a handful of chips, was the perfect lullaby. She had been asleep for maybe twenty minutes when there was a crash, boom, bang, and scream. Horrified, she realized the screeching was coming from her.

"What's going on?" she managed, brushing her tangled hair out of her face.

"Karaoke," Massie replied, dragging a machine out of the closet. "The old-fashioned way."

"What? Now?"

"It's nawt even 10:00, Kris."

"Aren't we going to, I don't know, wake somebody up or something?" Kristen acted as though she thought they were both idiots. She hated having her beauty rest interrupted.

"No one's here. Judi and Jay are at a fundraiser for the ASPCA or something, and Kendra and William are at the mayor's presentation."

"What about me? I was sleeping." She snuck a look out the window at the dark landscape of the estate, and shivered. "Never mind. Are you sure there's absolutely nobody home?"

"Well, I mean, there's Inez, and probably Isaac, and the cook, but they don't count."

"So if they're sleeping, it doesn't matter? Let's just blow the house down?" Her voice became light and airy, and her eyes flashed turquoise.

"They're servants," Massie explained slowly, as though she was talking to a two-year-old. "They don't matter."

Kristen was suddenly hit hard with the reality of their different situations. While Massie was an upper-class girl from a modern-money family, Kristen was simply normal. And normal was not a word somebody associated with Massie Block. Kristen didn't have a clue what she'd done to earn a spot in the Pretty Commitee, but she was determined to keep it that way, no matter what.

BOLSA CHICA STATE BEACH
DOORWAY
6:18 PM
DECEMBER 29, 2012

Alicia and Dylan waved their passes at the security guard before dashing straight onto the sand. The ID cards had been given to them by Pop 'n.' Lolly, and left them with a standing invitation to the hawtest clubs, stores, and restaraunts. The twins had never rescinded them, had probably forgotten by now, so the passes were theirs. Although both girls had issues with the models, they were grateful for the permits.

They raced past the gate and onto the real beach, where they spread their towels, compliments of the State of California, and lay on their backs to look at the sky. As soon as she did, however, sand began to creep up Dylan's skirt. She looked at the thong she was wearing, shrugged, and slid the piece of clothing off. Then she yanked her shirt over her head to show the identical bra. "Bikini?" she asked Alicia.

"In the dark? Sure." Alicia tossed the sunglasses she'd brought for no reason to the side and took out her phone. Switching the camera around, she took a picture of the two of them. On Instagram, she wrote, at the beach in Beverly Hills with bigredhead. She posted it, and 42 seconds later there were already five likes. It was a start, although three of them were from Massiekur, SexySportsBabe, and Clairebear. In return, their friends put up their own photo: a group shot, probably taken by Inez, of the three of them sitting together, laughing their heads off.

"Right after the party, we're going straight home," Alicia declared.

"Agreed. And we're sitting together this time. Speaking of, why did you want to be with Vail last time?"

"Cuz I had to talk to her. Something was wrong. It's an Alpha's job to notice that," she preened.

"No offense, Leesh, but you're nawt the Alpha."

"I know," she responded softly, then changed the subject. "Wanna see if we can pick up any cute guys?"

"We're in sixth grade," Dylan chided, not wanting to admit that she didn't have any experience when it came to that kind of thing.

"So?" Alicia ran her fingers through her braid, so it was sexy and messy. She applied some Urban Decay lip gloss, capped the tube, tucked it in the side pocket of Dylan's bag, and got to her feet. "Ehmagawd, look what I'm wearing!" she howled.

"Chuck it," proposed Dylan, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. "Look at me." She performed a dance move somewhere along the lines of Hips Don't Lie by Shakira and started giggling.

Alicia twirled into the next part, throwing off her clothes. Before they knew it, they were doing the entire dance.

"You know my hips don't lie and I'm starting to feel it's right!" they belted out.

"Como se llama, bonita, mi casa, su casa," groaned Dylan.

"Shakira, Shakira!" Alicia yelled over her.

Neither of them noticed they were attracting a crowd until the next time the chorus came around. Alicia sang her part, but stopped short when a young-looking woman stepped to the front of the throng and said, "Yes?"

The music playing in Dylan's brain ground to a halt. "Shakira?" she asked.

"That's me. Aren't you Merri-Lee's daughter?"

Dylan thought about what it would be like to for once say, 'No, that's nawt me. I just look like her.' She could avoid the staring, and the pointing, and the comparing, and the attention... Oh, who was she kidding? She loved the attention. "Yeah. I'm Dylan."

"I met you when you were little," Shakira said.

"Really?"

"You were one or two," the singer answered. "And I came to be on your mother's show. You were the cutest baby!"

A group of paparazzi had closed in, and lenses were flashing, microphones being shoved in their faces.

"Yeah, great. Thanks," Dylan babbled, faking a smile. A drop of sweat was dribbling down her forehead. Any second now, the whole world, or at least anyone who read People magazine or US Weekly, would know that Dylan Marvil liked to parade around public beaches in her underclothes. "Come on, Leesh," she whispered, stomping on her friend's thinly clad foot. "Excuse us."

When she had been dragged a sufficient distance, Alicia dug her heels into the sand and pulled them both to a stop. Then she leaned over and yelled in Dylan's ear, "What the hell was that for? That was my Big Chance, my fifteen seconds of fame! We were talking to Shakira!"

"Look what we're wearing." She gave that a few moments to sink in.

"Oh." And then she laughed. And they laughed and laughed and laughed.

BLOCK ESTATE
GUESTHOUSE
11:10 PM
DECEMBER 29, 2012

Claire Lyons was the kind of person whose happiness was contagious. She also caught other people's emotions. So right now, when Kristen had finally gotten into the spirit of the occasion, and Massie wasn't trying to impress Alicia and Dylan and could therefore be herself, her own joy continued to be reflected back at her. She was positively giddy.

"Hey hey you you, I don't like your girlfriend!" Massie yelled into the microphone.

"No way no way, I think you need a new one!" Claire screamed into hers.

"Hey hey you you, I want to be your girlfriend!" shouted Kristen.

Massie took the next line. "Hey hey you you, I know that you like me!"

Claire was next. "No way no way, you know it's nawt a secret!"

Kristen: "Hey hey you you, I want to be your girlfriend!"

Massie signaled frantically for them all to shut up so she could do her solo. "You're so fine, I want you mine, you're so delicious; I think about you all the time, you're so addictive; Don't you know what I can do to make you feel alright?"

Kristen, who seemed like the kind of person who would never curse, took over. "Don't pretend, I think you know I'm damn precious; and hell yeah, I'm the motherfucking princess; I can tell you like me too and you know I'm right!"

They finished the song in a fit of mirth as they watched Avril Lavigne execute a final dance move on the screen above their heads.

"Bed?" Massie asked, although it more like telling.

"Hold on," Claire cautioned, already flipping through the list of songs. "One more. Here, found it." She pressed Play and tossed a mic to each of the girls.

She looked at Massie as she sang. "We sign our cards and letters BFF. You've got a million ways to make me laugh. You're looking out for me; you've got my back. It's so good... to have you around!"

And Kristen: "You know the secrets I could never tell. And when I'm quiet you break through my shell! Don't feel the need to do a rebel yell; cuz you keep my feet on the ground!"

And Massie: "You're a true-ue-ue-ue frie-end. You're here till the e-end. You can pull me aside when something ain't right; talk to me now and into the night; till it's alright aga-ain. You're a true friend." And she smiled straight at the blonde girl who had become her, well, true friend. Maybe her only one.