THE WESTCHESTER MALL
PINKBERRY
Tuesday, October 20th
3:50 P.M.
Claire bit her nails as she checked out the flavors at the brand-new Pinkberry in the Westchester Mall.
“Pomegranate with Cocoa Pebbles!” Dylan borderline shouted at the wide-eyed girl behind the counter. “Wait! No! Green tea with coconut.” She hovered over the glass case that displayed a colorful array of exotic fro-yo toppings. “No! Original. With—”
“Ehmagawd, Dylaaaannnnn.” Kristen sighed behind her.
“Fine,” Dylan huffed, crossing her arms over her Haute Hippie sweater poncho. “I’ll have a smoothie.”
“And can I get another sample of original?” Alicia asked sweetly, leaning against the sea green wall next to the cash register.
Claire sneaked a glance at the door. Cam and the rest of the boys should be here any second, since today was an off day for soccer. She couldn’t wait to finally get some time in with her crush. Since the boys had been shipped back to Briarwood, she hadn’t seen Cam in four whole days, which felt like forever. Oddly, Claire had seen even less of Cam than she had back in the Pretty Committee days. It was almost like they couldn’t hang out unless Alicia had something planned. Was Massie right? Were boy-girl cliques impossible? Did being a Soul-M8 leave Claire a No-M8?
The Pinkberry girl cleared her throat.
“Oh. Sorry.” Claire flushed slightly. “Um, I’ll have original with cookies ’n’ cream. Please.”
“And that sample, whenever you get a chance.” Alicia narrowed her eyes, sounding miffed.
The Pinkberry girl eyed the teetering stack of empty sample cups piled on Alicia’s tray.
Alicia stared right back, daring Pinkberry to comment.
Pinkberry sighed and reached for a fresh sample cup.
“Point,” Alicia said under her breath. She was stocking up on samples, so she wouldn’t have to eat in front of Josh.
After they’d gotten their fro-yo, the girls claimed the white table at the very front of the store. From their post at the giant window overlooking the mall, they watched couples walking hand in hand into Godiva, hipsters in skinny jeans bobbing their heads to their iPods, and goths stomping into Hot Topic.
Finally, their crushes appeared at the very end of the hallway, laughing and shoving one another as they maneuvered the after-school rush.
Dylan sucked in her stomach and buttoned her jeans. Alicia arm-swiped her empty sample cups into her YSL tote. Kristen wiped off her MAC Lipglass and replaced it with a swipe of environmentally friendly PlantLove gloss.
Claire straightened up in her chair, her heart vibrating louder than the Taboo buzzer on the Lyons family game night. Cam Fisher, his piercing one blue and one green eye, and his backpack full of sours were just seconds away.
“Quick! Pretend I just said something hilarious,” Alicia whisper-hissed, tossing her black hair.
The girls burst out laughing.
Derrington waved, walking straight toward the table like he didn’t see the giant window that separated the boys from the girls.
BAM!
At the last second, he’d turned his cheek and his entire body smacked into the partition like a bird flying into freshly cleaned glass. He slid slowly down the giant glass pane, making squeaking noises as he slumped to the floor.
Dylan’s faux laugh turned into a real one, complete with a snort.
Alicia rolled her eyes, reached into her YSL tote, and pulled out her pink Yankees cap. “Do you hawnestly think he’s funny?”
“Do you hawnestly think that hat goes with anything?” Dylan blurted, eyeing the cap with disdain. “Twitter update: It’s PinkScary.”
“You’re PinkHairy,” Alicia retorted, tossing a coconut shaving at Dylan’s red ponytail.
“I’m PinkClaire-y,” Claire chimed in.
The girls cracked up. Not so much because it was funny but because the boys had entered Pinkberry and were standing over them, looking nerve-wrackingly cute.
A dizzying combination of Drakkar Noir, fresh grass, and boy sweat found Claire like Cupid’s arrow. She wished she could bottle the scent, even though Massie would probably call it Ew de Cam. Claire felt a twinge of sadness cut through her excitement. As weird as it sounded to want Massie here to insult her… she did.
“Coulda warned me about that window,” Derrington said as he plopped down in the seat next to Dylan and rubbed the side of his face where he’d hit the glass.
She swatted his arm.
Alicia beamed at Josh, who was wearing a crimson RL fleece hoodie.
“Nice hat,” he said, chin-nodding at the Yankees cap on the table.
Alicia blushed, then eyed the cap like she couldn’t decide whether to stuff it back in her bag or wear it.
“What’s up?” Kristen glanced up at Dempsey, swirling her green tea yogurt with her spoon.
“Um, the sky?” Dempsey said, flashing his dimpled smile. He sat down across from her, and they grinned at each other, nervous crush waves shooting back and forth between them.
“Hey,” Cam said, but the way he squinted his blue eye told Claire he’d missed her.
Her head nod said hi but her grin screamed, Let’s lip-kiss.
He dragged a chair next to Claire’s and plopped down into it. His smile was warm enough to melt Claire’s fro-yo. And her heart. Her mind spun with all the things she’d wanted to tell Cam since they’d seen each other last. They’d texted the night before about Massie and her new billionaire friends, but he didn’t know how Mara Hill from seventh had discovered Principal Burns’s MySpace page and set it as the home page for every computer at OCD. Or how Claire had aced her last French test without even having to crack a book. And how that was mostly because Madame Vallon had accidentally given the same test she gave the week before.
Cam stuck his finger in Claire’s ice cream. “What flavor’d you get?” What he was obviously saying was, School sucks without you there.
“Original.” Claire smiled. Same. The soft glow from the giant white orbs that swung overhead made Cam’s eyes sparkle even more than usual. She couldn’t tell if it was the frosty fro-yo making her teeth chatter or her crush.
“—that corner kick with like five seconds left?” Dempsey was saying to Kristen while the boys eyed the menu at the front of the store.
“I know!” Kristen plucked a soggy piece of granola from her cup and popped it into her mouth. “I DVR’d it and played it back a billion times.”
“AC Milan’s team is sick this year,” Dempsey said. “Who’s your favorite player?”
“Who’s yours?” Kristen shot back.
“On three?” Dempsey’s dimple deepened.
Kristen nodded happily. “One… two…”
“BECKHAM!” they shouted in unison, high-fiving. Kristen’s cheeks flushed pinker than her fro-yo.
“So have you guys seen Massie’s new friends?” Alicia said loudly, obviously bored with the soccer talk.
Claire sighed. She was getting sick of talking about, hearing about, and seeing Massie’s new friends. Couldn’t they talk about something else?
She turned toward Cam. “So how was prac—”
“You know the one with the short haircut?” Dylan said. “I heard her family invented graham crackers. That’s how they made their first billion.”
“Lame,” Alicia decided. “But not as lame as the little get-together Massie’s having Friday night. Her sleepovers have gone downhill fast.” She turned toward Josh. “Apparently, since we’re not available, she’s inviting lots of homeless people.”
“No way.” Josh’s eyes gleamed like they did whenever Alicia had juicy gossip.
Alicia nodded. “Sooo sad.” She pouted happily.
Claire gripped her plastic spoon so hard she thought it might crack. What was Alicia talking about? Claire had seen the way she’d reacted at lunch yesterday, shouting and storming out of the café after Massie had tricked her into announcing the event. Why couldn’t Alicia just admit that she was freaked out that Massie’s party would be better than hers? For that matter, why couldn’t Massie admit that having billionaire friends just wasn’t the same as having the old millionaire ones?
“Hey.” She nudged Cam’s thigh with hers. “Wanna go to Sharper Image?”
“Ooohhh! Lyons and Fisher need some alone time,” Derrington teased. He turned his back to the table and wrapped his arms around his body, making kissing noises.
“Ehmagawd.” Dylan giggled.
“Gimme a break,” Cam said, turning red. But he avoided Claire’s insistent stare.
Claire’s heart was starting to race again. This time it was definitely not in that “I just can’t wait to see my boyfriend” kind of way. Why didn’t Cam want to spend any time with her?
“I’m starving,” Cam announced, shoving back his chair. “Do they have real food here?”
“We can go to the food court,” Claire stood quickly. She remembered a CosmoGirl.com article she’d read last week about how boys didn’t know how to take a hint. You had to tell them exactly what you wanted, or they didn’t get it. She followed Cam up to the register. Despite the cool, stainless steel counters, the calming green walls, and the soft lighting, her stress level was definitely on the rise.
“Cam,” she started. “I want to get our own table.” There. She said it.
“Green tea with Fruity Pebbles,” Cam told the girl behind the counter. “Large.” He turned toward Claire.
“You mean ditch everybody else?” he said over a sticky green mouthful. “That’s not cool.”
“Never mind,” Claire snapped, stalking back to the table. She yanked her chair out so hard it almost toppled over.
“Easy, Lyons,” Josh joked. His eyes slid back and forth between Claire and Cam, who had slumped into his seat and was poking silently at his Fruity Pebbles.
“Don’t mind her,” Alicia said, batting her thick lashes. “She’s just mad because Cam wants to hang out with us and she doesn’t.”
Claire clenched her jaw.
Alicia didn’t let up. “Or is it that you’d rather be hanging out with Massie and her crew?” she challenged, pointing her spoon at Claire. “’Cause if that’s the case, don’t let us stop you.” She motioned grandly toward the door.
Dylan and Kristen stared down at their empty cups.
The boys looked totally clueless.
And Cam did absolutely nothing to stand up for her.
“This is crazy,” Claire muttered, jumping up from her chair. She wove through the maze of tables and chairs, heading for the bathroom. She should have been mad, but she was just sad. She missed her friends being together. Missed hanging out with Cam alone. Missed seeing Alicia eat. Having two groups to hang out with was like having two crushes: great in theory but way too complicated in real life.
Shoving through the bathroom door, she leaned against the cool, shiny steel of one of the stall doors. It was time to admit it. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull a Tim Gunn. This just wasn’t working. If she wanted to stay friends with Massie and the Soul-M8s, there was only one option: Somehow, she had to get everybody back together.
And unless she wanted to spend the rest of her life hiding out in public bathrooms, she had to do it fast.