Massie sat down between Alicia and Dylan. Claire sat on Alicia's other side, and Kristen was next to Dylan. They were in OCD's moth-ball-scented auditorium, waiting for Principal Burns to make her stupid welcome-back-to-OCD speech. Massie could already hear the words inside her head: Welcome, students, to the wonderful institution that is Octavian Country Day School. You are the best of the best, hand selected by our administrative staff and myself. You are part of a time-honored tradition of honor and excellence. You represent the good OCD name. Do not take this great honor lightly…
A spotlight went on in the middle of the stage. The other lights dimmed until they were off. Principal Burns and Headmaster Adams stood there, each with their own microphone.
"Doesn't have the same ominous effect," whispered one of the Poetry Club LBR's. "Two microphones can accompany each other, but a single leaves more room for achievement yet to be filled, and piles pressure upon that single item to fill it. And it doesn't make the student superimpose themselves in the spot of the microphone."
"Just say what you mean," whispered one of her friends. "You're making my head hurt."
"They're not getting silence out of this crowd," the first girl whispered.
"Massie?" Alicia tapped her friend on the arm. "It smells like damp wood in here. Can we fix it, Mass?"
"Sure," Massie said softly. Each girl pulled out her signature scent (Massie, Chanel No.5; Alicia, Angel; Kristen, Clinique Happy; Dylan, Juicy perfume; Claire, Kimora Lee Simmons' Baby Phat Golden Goddess) and held the miniature bottles in their hands, index fingers posed on top of the nozzles, ready to spray.
Massie sprayed first. Then Alicia and Dylan, followed by Kristen and Claire. They all dropped the tiny bottles back in their bags and beamed. Massie watched with satisfaction as the LBR's greasy ponytails swung as they hunted the source of the sudden burst of fresh air. They stared at the Pretty Committee. Massie stared back as though to say, Keep watching! We might do a trick! (Meant sarcastically, of course.) They looked away in shame.
Massie's amber eyes were fixed on her ex, Derrick Harrington. Now that he was no longer worthy of being called Derrington, and he certainly wasn't worthy of firsty-lasty status, Massie had to grow used to just calling him Derrick. It was weird for her, not being able to get up and drop down in his lap like she normally would. She missed being the power couple of OCD. She sighed and propped up her head with her hands, her elbows perched on the armrests on either side. Her eyes caught Derrington flirting with the high school girls all too well. She wanted to text him, but she didn't have the strength. She hadn't even had enough will power to delete his number from her phone. She'd systematically copied it to her new iPhone. Massie watched him laughing and missed being right next to him, laughing along with him.
Derrington pulled out his phone and began typing away. Seconds later, Massie's phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out quietly. A text from Derrington. Her heart started racing. What was it? What would it say? Did he want to get back together, or was he texting to rub in what a good time he was having without her?
Only one way to find out. She tapped something on her phone and watched the message come out of the white animated envelope and unfold itself from a tiny square to a full-screen message. Her heart sank. All it said was:
Stop watching me. We're not together, so you don't have to worry about me cheating on you.
Massie let out a scream of rage. The Pretty Committee-and various LBR eavesdroppers-turned to stare. Face contorted with rage, Massie forwarded the message to her friends. They gasped when they read it. Soon they were sending furious messages to Derrington. Even Claire. Massie sat back and watched with satisfaction. Copies of their messages were sent to Massie's phone. Alicia's read,
Dear scum-sucker,
Why would you ever be so cowardly as to text your ex something so horrible? If you have something to say, come up here and say it to our faces! I dare you.
Hate,
AR
Dylan's read:
Ya know what? Kiss my fat butt.
Kristen's read
If you had any guts at all, you'd come up here and say that to Massie's face.
Claire's read,
I hate you. You do not break up with the infamous Massie Block and then come to school and scam on some poor freshman girl right in front of us three months later!
Massie's read
Loser. I hope you rot in hell for all of eternity. If you have the nerve to come up here and say that to our faces, you will regret it. We'll kick you in your scrawny little butt. How do I know you have a scrawny butt? Because you insist on showing it in public at least twice a day. Has it ever gotten through your thick skull that maybe people don't want to hurl their lunches at the soccer games? Not everyone is as bulimic as you, you know.
The girls had hit 'send' with a certain ferociousness. Massie knew that a fleet of hate messages was headed his way. She watched his expression as he opened his new messages.
"I hope he opens yours first," Alicia whispered to Massie. "Yours was pretty scornful."
"Nah, yours was really good," Massie whispered back. "The whole say-it-to-my-face thing was great."
The crowd cheered. What? Had they all received a copy of Massie's scornful text? The answer came when she saw that the first two rows had been filled with the fourteen new girls Alicia had said were coming. And they were model-beautiful, just as Alicia had said.
"Look," Alicia whispered, pointing at one girl. "She's the model."
Kiran Hayes had long, dark brown hair that tumbled down her shoulders in loose, curled waves. Her green eyes were big and piercing, her skin deeply tanned. She was tall, too. A prime candidate for the Pretty Committee.
"Rejected," Massie whispered.
"What? Why?" Alicia looked crushed. She wanted to be a model, and friendship with Kiran Hayes was her best bet at being famous.
"Too tall to share anything with us." Massie crossed her arms.
"Ohhhh," Alicia said. "Well, what about Tiara?"
From the front row, they heard Tiara (a pretty brunette with delicate features and ice-blue eyes) scream, "OH EFF!!!" at the top of her lungs.
"Or not," Alicia said. "Noelle Lange?"
"No way! You NEVER adopt the alpha! It's alpha instinct to take over a clique." Massie shook her head, her razored layers swishing.
"Well, that rules out Tinsley, Blair, and Serena," Kristen chimed in. "They were supposedly the best of the best at their schools."
"I was thinking Sabine DuLac," Massie said softly.
The other Pretty Committee members' eyes scanned the rows of gorgeous girls until they found Sabine. She was French, with clear blue eyes and straight brown hair. But her skin, dark as it was, was definitely dry and pasty.
"Ew! Of all the girls, you picked Sabine?" Dylan shook her head with disbelief as she stuffed four pieces of gum in her mouth at once, slurping back the onslaught of cotton candy flavored spit. "Disgusting."
"Look at her, K. She's perfect to re-launch Glambition on!" Massie beamed. "We put on some scented lotion, some Eau de Pretty Committee perfume, some of our home-made makeup, send her out, and BAM! Instant spot on everyone's must-have list."
"You're right! Ehmagawd, Mass, you're a genius!"
Massie nodded and winked. "Of course I am."
"Hey, genius, you'd better think of something to say to Derrick," Kristen noted.
"What? Why would I talk to that LBR?" Massie snapped.
"Because he's coming over here…" Dylan said.
"What?" Massie gasped. "No. He. Is. NAWT!"
"Yes! He! Is!" Claire shouted back. "With his cell phone, too."
"This should be good," Alicia said, rubbing her palms together.
"Define good," Massie whispered. "He looks mad…"