Bratfest At Tiffany's

BOCD
MAIN BUILDING

Friday, September 18th
7:33 P.M.

The current of bodies pushing and shoving their way into the New Green Café swept Claire along, creating an ever-widening gap between her and the NPC. Or was she subconsciously willing the separation? Searching for a chance to break away from the negativity that had clogged the pores of her social circle and infected them like nasty blackheads?
Being treated like worthless pawns by the school, the parents, and the kids in Main Building had been humiliating. Frustrating. And insulting. But watching Massie Block fall into a deep depression over it had been unbearable. She was their rock. Their leader. The one who always pushed them to keep going. Without her passion they were lost orphans who—
A sudden cyclone of lavender, citrus, spicy berries, and sandalwood swirled around Claire, derailing her train of thought.
She couldn’t move.
Couldn’t swallow.
Couldn’t breathe.
The cyclone grabbed hold of her chest and squeezed. It itched the backs of her kneecaps and sent a burst of prickly sweat to her armpits. Cam Fisher was near.
But where? To her left? Her right? Behind her? She didn’t know which way to run. Or if she even wanted to.
“Hey,” he mumbled shyly.
He was beside her on the right, the sleeve of his leather jacket rubbing against the side of her Gap denim sundress. Did he realize they were kind of touching? Did he care?
“Hey,” Claire managed, accidentally making direct contact with his blue eye and green eye. Their magnetic grip held her like it always had, only this time she felt trapped, not admired. Like she had been busted for trespassing on private property. Property that belonged to an Ashlee Simpson wannabe who was smart enough not to spy on him and accuse him of liking another girl.
Every day she convinced herself that she was better off without him. Because if he could like a girl like Olivia, he didn’t deserve her anyway. Besides, his hair needed a trim. His friends were immature. His one blue eye and one green eye were distracting. His Drakkar Noir was bad for the environment. And his leather jacket smelled like sushi.
But at this very moment, as the crowd squeezed by, it didn’t matter what Claire told herself. None of it was true. The truth was in the invisible waves passing between them. And those waves said, “I miss you.”
The tears came. Fast and hot.
Without a single word, Claire turned and fought her way through the crowd. She ran down the halls and didn’t stop until she was completely alone.
Barely aware of the cold metal against her back, she slid down a wall of lockers and surrendered to her erupting emotions. Snot-filled sobs heaved out of her. Her vision blurred and her temples throbbed as she cried for herself and Cam and Alicia and Josh and Massie and Derrington and the NLBRs and Layne and the trailers and the bomb shelter and the at-one-time-fabulous Pretty Committee. All the things the eighth grade was supposed to be. And all the things it wasn’t.
Once all salt had been drained from her heaving body, Claire felt limp.
She dried her eyes on the hem of her dress. But the crying didn’t stop. Loud, muffled shrieks echoed through the empty halls. Claire pushed herself up to stand.
Her rubber-soled red Keds squeaked and echoed as she raced down the empty halls. The crying got louder. More desperate. Claire sped up, forgetting her own sadness, and followed high-pitched shrieks straight to locker fourteen.
She lifted the metal latch without hesitation and threw open the steely gray metal door. Inside, tangled under a fallen duckie ’n’ bunny mobile was baby Kate, covered in doll-poo and glitter.
“Oh noooo, what happened?” Claire cooed. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay,” she sang as she tossed the mobile over her shoulder and gently laid Kate down.
The instant Claire ripped off the heavy diaper, the weeping stopped. “I understand how you feel, Kate.” She tore strips of pink cashmere off the locker walls and wiped the baby’s plastic butt clean. “Better?”
The plastic baby gurgled.
Claire used the remaining cashmere scraps and a stapler to make a cute new diaper. “I know what it’s like when someone you love tosses you aside.”
Kate gurgled again.
“It’s true, I do. But from now on I’m going to walk away from the people who make me sad. For real this time. And when you’re old enough, you can too. You can even come and live with me if you want. Because I dunno if your parents told you this, but I’m your stepmom and—”
The smell was back. And not the poo smell.
Claire leaned forward and sniffed Kate’s hair. Did Cam’s Drakkar Noir cling to the doll like it clung to her?
“I’ll take her.” His voice was caring and kind.
Claire turned around.
And there was Cam. His eyes filled with warmth. His naturally red lips curled into a gentle smile. His leather jacket unzipped. His heart on his sleeve.
Operation Jealousy must have worked. Cam had seen her on TV flirting with Dempsey and wanted her back. But now that he was standing there, Claire decided she didn’t want him back. At least not like this. If he was going to return, it would have to be because he loved her, not because he thought someone else did. Because getting back together with Cam would mean getting tossed from the New Pretty Committee, and she would only consider doing that for the real thing.
“Here you go.” Claire handed him the baby. “I heard her crying, so I checked in on her.”
He smiled. Not in a polite, thank-you-very-much-for-helping way. More like he used to. Like he couldn’t help it. “I heard what you said to Kate.”
Claire felt her cheeks burn.
“It was nice.” Cam adjusted the pink cashmere diaper. “She needs someone like you in her life.”
Kate cooed happily.
Hot tears rushed to Claire’s bloodshot eyes.
“So do I.” Cam continued.
But Claire, determined to set a good example for her stepdaughter, forced her legs to turn and walk away.