THE BLOCK ESTATE
THE DRIVEWAY
Saturday, October 24th
11:36 A.M.
Claire coasted down Massie’s street, gripping the handlebars on her bike so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her iPod nano was blasting her Fired Up Femme! mix (Beyoncé, Katy Perry, and the Cheetah Girls, with a splash of P!nk). But even with the mix, and the afternoon bike ride to clear her head, she was dragging. She wished she could talk to her friends. Just hearing their voices would cheer her up. But she’d tried and nobody was taking her calls.
She’d fought the urge to ride her bike over to Alicia’s to apologize. But after she’d gotten everyone kicked out of Massie’s party, with threats from security to have them arrested for trespassing, she wasn’t sure she was ready to face any of the Soul-M8s in person just yet. Her plan to bring the Pretty Committee back together could’ve landed her best friends in the pokey. That would have been a total disaster. Everybody knew how the ex–Pretty Committee felt about horizontal stripes.
A lump hardened in the back of Claire’s throat as she turned into Massie’s driveway. Ever since the Pretty Committee had split, she’d just assumed everything would be okay, eventually. That someone would apologize and they’d be stronger than ever. Now it seemed like the only thing “stronger” was the rift between them, thanks to Claire. And now that Massie had a whole new group of friends (plus Layne, which Claire still didn’t get), the PC would grow further and further apart. The situation was hopeless.
“Heads up!”
Claire sucked in a sharp breath, swerving to avoid the familiar brunette from IBS who was standing directly in her path. Yanking her earbuds out of her ears, Claire hopped off her bike and let it drop on the grass.
“I’m so sorry!” Claire rushed over to the girl, who was holding a thick black portfolio. “You okay?”
“I was hoping to run into you!” The girl flicked her chestnut layers out of her face. A flicker of admiration sparked her bright hazel eyes. “But this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. I guess you’re my replacement, huh?” She smiled warmly. “Makes sense I guess, since you have way more experience and actually live here.”
“Replacement?” Claire squinted like someone who couldn’t hear.
The girl opened her portfolio and produced a glossy eight-by-ten headshot of herself, grinning at the camera from over her left shoulder. “Would you give this to her? My résumé’s on the back,” she said, tucking the folder under her arm.
“Your résumé?” Claire repeated, taking the headshot. She knew she was starting to sound like a clueless parrot. But she seriously had no idea what was going on. And if she didn’t figure out how she knew this girl in the next sixty seconds… “Jasmin Collins,” she read aloud, hoping the name would ring a bell. It didn’t.
Jasmin shrugged. “You know, in case anything else comes up.” She looked down at the ground and smiled. “Sounds kind of stupid, but even with everything we had to go through, this job was kind of cool. Now it’s back to commercials, day parts, and extras work.”
Claire wasn’t paying attention. She flipped the headshot over, scanning the back for clues. Actually, the résumé looked pretty good. Guest spots on Ugly Betty and 90210…
“You have no idea what it’s like to tell the world about your heavy flow days on national television,” Jasmin was saying.
… plus background work on Gossip Girl and Mad Men…
“Anyway, this should be fun for you as long as you keep a few ground rules in mind,” Jasmin continued. “Massie hates it when you leave the house in the morning without running your outfit by her. So do yourself a favor. Don’t try any costume changes without checking first.”
“Mhmmm,” Claire murmured, still scanning Jasmin’s stats. Commercial work for Tampax, Aquafresh, and Pringles…
“Also? She hates it when you go off-script. Definite no-no.”
… and an extra on Dial L for Loser.
“Ohhhh!” Claire shrieked, dropping the headshot. “You were in Dial L! I knew I recognized you!” She was so relieved, she threw her arms around Jasmin and squeezed tight. “I’m Claire! Claire Lyons!”
“Yeah! I know!” Jasmin giggle-wheezed. “You were the lead!”
“Oh. Right.” Despite the chilly afternoon air, warmth rose to Claire’s cheeks. She released her hostage, embarrassed.
“Don’t you remember? We were in that one scene together where we both had to cry ’cause our crushes dumped us, and my cell started ringing, right in the middle? And you told Rupert—”
Claire dissolved into giggles. “I told Rupert it was my phone!” she remembered. “And he said—”
“Bloody ’ell, shut your cell!” the girls squealed in unison, cracking up.
“You totally saved my arse.” Jasmin snorted. “I owe you one.”
“Forget it.” Then Claire scrunched her nose. “Wait. You were working for—” In under a second, Claire’s jaw hit the pavement. Suddenly, it all became clear. How Massie had made four new friends in less time than it took her to pick out an outfit. How they looked even more airbrushed than a Cosmo cover. How they always seemed to know exactly what to say, and wear, and do…
“Claire?” Jasmin looked worried. “You okay?”
“MASSIE HIRED YOU GUYS TO BE HER FRIENDS?” Claire screeched. She couldn’t even believe the words as she said them out loud.
“Uh, yeah. Massie and Layne.”
Claire smacked her palm to her forehead, collapsing onto the lawn next to the pavement. She knew Massie and Layne were up to something. They wouldn’t just be friends for no reason. “Why—”
“I guess they were both trying to get back at their friends for stealing some guy? Dumpy, or something? I heard them talking about it in the trailer one day.”
“Unbelievable.” Claire breathed. No wonder Layne had been so quick to hang with Massie. And no wonder Massie had let her. It was all part of a master plan. A brilliant, totally botched master plan to get revenge.
And now, Claire needed to form a plan of her own.
“Claire?” Jasmin stood up, brushing grass and dirt from her Earnest Sewn denim mini. “Am I missing something here?”
“Yup.” Claire jumped up too, yanking her bike off the lawn. “But I don’t have time to explain. I need to cash in on that favor.”
“That was quick,” Jasmin teased.
“Can you get the other actors here by six tonight?” Claire hopped on her bike, riding figure eights around the driveway. Massie Block wasn’t the only girl in the world who knew how to scheme to get what she wanted. Claire had been in the Pretty Committee long enough to pick up a few tricks of her own.
“No problem.” Jasmin buttoned her plum corduroy blazer. “You want us to do a scene?”
Claire nodded. “But… I can’t pay, so—”
Jasmin cut her off. “No worries. I’ll just tell them it’s an audition.”
“Perfect!” Claire grinned. “I’ll email you with the details in a few hours.” She started pedaling back toward the guesthouse, wondering how she was going to get all her friends together in one place in just a few hours. Especially since no one was taking her calls. But she’d figure something out. She had to.
“See ya tonight!” Jasmin called after her as Claire coasted through the gates.
The closer Claire got to the guesthouse, the faster she pedaled. She remembered back to her Dial L days, when the director, Rupert Mann, had once told her the key to a good script is three words: Drama, drama, and more drama.
Well, Claire had a fourth word to add: drama.