Kristen. Part 7

"Well, did you press hard with your pen?" Kristen tried again.

The group broke apart and Skye went through the motions of taming her wild curls. "What does that that have to do with anything?" have to do with anything?"

"Sometimes, if you run a pencil over a pad of paper really softly, you can see what was written on the page before it." Kristen smile-shrugged like she was just trying to help. "It may be worth a try."

"The only thing worth a try are the club's virgin mango daiquiris!" Skye threw her arms in the air like she'd just jumped out of someone's birthday cake. "Who wants?"

"Meeeeee!" they all shouted.

Skye summoned the waiter by gracefully lifting her finger, the way a ballerina might complete a plie.

Kristen hid her tearing eyes by checking her Guess Carousel watch. "I better go. Garreth is probably waiting for me."

Skye s.h.i.+elded her eyes from the sun and looked out at the green. "Doesn't look like it." She tilted her head toward a tall man in white linen shorts and a green polo. He and a stout bald man wearing too much madras were getting into a cart, their clubs sticking out the back. "He probably won't be back for hours." She smirked.

Kristen felt like someone had shot a golf ball straight into her gut. "I'll just come back later," she managed. "I have tons to do today. See ya."

Without another word Kristen turned on her silver Pumas- and bolted back to her mother's car, where she would begin a long afternoon of lying to Marsha about Garreth and all the wonderful things he'd said about her. And that that would end up being the best part of her day. would end up being the best part of her day.

THE PINEWOOD.

KRISTEN'S ROOM Wednesday, July 22 4:44 P.M.

Nothing is more pathetic than spending a beautiful summer day hiding out in bed when you're not: A) Sick.B) Jet-lagged.C) Coming off an all-night study session.D) Recovering from surgery.E) All of the above.[image]

And Kristen was definitely E. She was depressed in a way that made Victoria Beckham look cheerful. Ma.s.sie had been right from the very beginning. Dune was done. Skye had won. Seeing them together at the club had eliminated any last bits of hope she had been clinging to. And the only thing left to do now was cry about it.

Beep . . . beeeeep . . . beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

David Beckham climbed up the side of Kristen's C-shaped body and licked her cheeks.

"I hear it. I hear it." She pushed the REPLY b.u.t.ton on the left side of her watch, then stared up at the white ceiling, her body too heavy to do much more. Finally, with a groan, Kristen sat and went through the necessary steps needed to get ready for her conference. But there was no joy in any of it. Suddenly, the Witty Committee felt like a goofy consolation prize, a second-place ribbon for those not pretty enough to win the crown.

Once she had been transformed into Cleopatra, Kristen powered up her screen and managed to turn on the charm. There were the familiar quadrants and four famous faces staring back at her through the LCD monitor.

EINSTEIN (Layne Abeley) BILL GATES (Danh Bondok) Disguise: tweed coat, bushy mustache, wiry gray wig Disguise: gla.s.ses, light blue b.u.t.ton-down, dark blue blazer Expertise: physics Expertise: technology OPRAH (Rachel Walker) SHAKESPEARE (Aimee Snyder) Disguise: wavy black wig, gold hoop earrings, pumpkin orange blouse Disguise: gray bald-in-the-front, curly-in-the-back wig, mustache, white collar sticking out of a black cloak Expertise: anthropology (the study of humankind, not the cute and affordable shabby-chic store) Expertise: affairs of the heart and the Romance languages

"What do we stand for?" Kristen asked like someone who cared.

"BOB," they answered.

"And what does BOB stand for?"

"Brains over beauty!"

"Whatevs," she muttered to herself with an eye roll so mini it was virtually undetectable. "What's going on?"

"We intercepted a text between Skye and Dune," Einstein panted in a way that suggested the task had required more from her than simply sitting in front of Danh's computer and watching him work.

"And?"

"And he's sneaking into the club tonight to go for a swim with Skye. After they made plans she texted the DSL Daters and told them they were going to lip-kiss." he's sneaking into the club tonight to go for a swim with Skye. After they made plans she texted the DSL Daters and told them they were going to lip-kiss."

Kristen lowered her head so her bangs would cover her moistening eyes. "It doesn't matter." She grinned. "It's over. I'm fine."

"Yes!" Bill Gates made a fist and squeezed. Bill Gates made a fist and squeezed.

"Bill!" Oprah huffed. "That's not very supportive."

"Wha'd I say?" He looked genuinely confused. "She said she's fine. I thought she was fine."

"A sad clown, at best." Shakespeare sighed despondently.

"I say you get out there and break them up," Einstein said with tremendous authority. "I think you two have some real chemistry."

"What do you know about love?" Kristen pouted.

"Um, does nineteen twenty-one mean anything to you?" Layne countered.

"You won the n.o.bel Prize in physics," Bill scoffed. "What does that have to do with love love?"

"It proves I'm not an idiot."

Everyone giggled. Even Kristen.

"We also have proof that Ripple tipped Skye off the other night in exchange for a fast-track initiation into the DSL Daters," Bill Gates offered.

"I knew it!" The spark of Kristen's compet.i.tive nature returned. "She cheated!"

"Exactly!" Oprah smacked her own thigh. "And doesn't that just burn you up?"

"It does!" The molten lava stream of WC adoration flowed through her body once again. "What can I do?"

"We figured out a way for you to execute Dune's Jell-O prank," Einstein beamed.

"It took all night." Bill Gates removed his wire-frame gla.s.ses, rubbed his eyes, and put them back on. "And while I think you could do a lot better than this guy, I am anxious to see if we got the formula right. So I will acquiesce."

"I'm in!" Kristen hugged David Beckham until he meow-coughed.

"Stand by, people," Oprah bellowed. "By midnight we'll know if he's the yang to your yin."

"Or if you're star-crossed lovers," Shakespeare added.

"Or if Love = K&D."

"Or if we can chill seventeen thousand gallons of Jell-O on a hot summer night," Bill Gates guffawed.

Their enthusiasm was infectious, and hope returned to Kristen like a loyal puppy. And that made her feel beautiful. Even if Dune was too Skye-struck to notice.

THE COUNTRY CLUB.

BEHIND THE BUSHES NEAR THE POOL.

Wednesday, July 22 11:49 P.M.

Dressed as their favorite Gifteds, Kristen (Cleopatra), Aimee (Shakespeare), and Rachel (Oprah) were breaking down three hundred empty Jell-O boxes, trying not to complain about the paper cuts, leg cramps, and mosquito bites they were getting from crouch-hiding. They had been behind the shrubs that surrounded the pool area for three hours, while Einstein and Bill Gates tinkered with wires and homemade refrigeration mechanisms, in a nail-biting race against time to chill the strawberry flavor-crystals before Skye and Dune arrived for their midnight swim.

Kristen's watch beeped after the guards made their ninth security pa.s.s. "It's time," she whisper-announced.

Oprah and Shakespeare nodded. Without a word they made a mad, barefoot dash across the golf course, each with a lemon yellow pillowcase (Martha Stewart Collection) stuffed full of empty Jell-O boxes. Their plan was to bury them in the sand traps on the golf course, then make an anonymous call in the morning so they could be dug up and recycled. And they pulled it off in record time. After a quick burial, they were back behind the bushes, silent-high-five-giggle-panting at the success of their mission.

Kristen's forehead was sweating under her wig. Her hands were clammy. And her mouth was dry. Not so much because of the humidity, but because this scheme was by far the most ambitious one she had ever been a part of-Pretty Committee included. And while failure would mean going back to the drawing board for her accomplices, for Kristen it would mean game over. No Dune. No fun. No reason to get out of bed until September.

"Ready!" Bill Gates whisper-announced while Layne scurried around the deck collecting blue Post-its filled with schematics and formulas that had dropped out of Bill's overflowing code binder.

Kristen sigh-peered through the dense leaves, fighting her urge to call the whole thing off. Yes, it was an incredible accomplishment-speed-chilling Jell-O on an eighty-degree night-but beyond that, their plan would never work: Skye would never never jump into the oversize strawberry-flavored Jell-O bowl and become too goopy to lip-kiss Dune. As soon as she arrived, she'd see the gigantic pink gelatinous slab where seventeen thousand gallons of water used to be. Dune would arrive, and then they'd have a big laugh about it, falling into each other's arms. Then Skye would take credit for the whole thing and Dune would give up surfing to spend his days drifting in her sea blue eyes. jump into the oversize strawberry-flavored Jell-O bowl and become too goopy to lip-kiss Dune. As soon as she arrived, she'd see the gigantic pink gelatinous slab where seventeen thousand gallons of water used to be. Dune would arrive, and then they'd have a big laugh about it, falling into each other's arms. Then Skye would take credit for the whole thing and Dune would give up surfing to spend his days drifting in her sea blue eyes.

"We're almost set." Bill Gates licked his lips hungrily and opened his silver MacBook Air. "I need room-can everyone please please give me some room?" give me some room?"

Oprah, Shakespeare, and Cleopatra did a three-step reverse crouch-walk, like sumo wrestlers in rewind.

Einstein pulled a Tupperware container of blue water and a slim flashlight from the inside pocket of her tweed blazer. "Ready?"

Bill Gates nodded.

She lifted the lid, shook the water ever so slightly, and shone her light on it. Bill Gates captured the image with his computer's camera and somehow managed to send it to a projector he had perched atop the snack bar roof. With a few quick right clicks, the image was sent to the pool.

Kristen gasped, then quickly covered her open mouth with her sweat-drenched palm. The pool suddenly appeared to be full of gentle lapping water.

Oprah and Shakespeare drew back their breath in awe.

"Where there's a will, there's a wave." Bill Gates grin-winked at Layne.

She grin-winked back.

"You're geniuses!" Kristen hugged them like two giant stuffed animals. At that moment, dressed in a Grecian gown and black bob wig, surrounded by Bill Gates, Einstein, Oprah, and Shakespeare, Kristen had never been more proud to be a part of anything in her life. Not the OCD soccer team, not the compet.i.tive scholars.h.i.+p program, not the Sudoku Society, not Students for BO (Barack Obama)-not even the Pretty Committee.

"Shhhhhhhhh." Oprah pulled them apart. "Look." She whisper-pointed at the lithe figure wearing a white string bikini, tangles of gold scarves, and a straw cowboy hat. Skye looked around (for Dune? A security guard?), and when she saw that no one was there, she pulled out her phone and answered a text.

Bill quickly shuttled to another screen on his computer and intercepted.

DSL1: Is he there? Is he there?Skye:[image]DSL1: U gonna wait? U gonna wait?Skye: Few minutes. Few minutes.DSL1: Bikini? Bikini?

Skye held out her phone, snapped a quick shot of her torso, and forwarded it.

DSL1: Luv it! Hope the white's not see-thru. Luv it! Hope the white's not see-thru.Skye: Hope it is. Hope it is.[image]

Kristen gasped. If this this was her compet.i.tion, she didn't stand a chance. was her compet.i.tion, she didn't stand a chance.

When DSL1 didn't respond, Kristen pointed to her screen name, then herself. Bill Gates immediately understood her question and nodded yes.

Kristin slid beside him and he angled the silver keypad toward herself. She giggle-typed as her gifted contemporaries looked on in wonder and amus.e.m.e.nt.

DSL1: Jump in and find out. So s.e.xy if you're already in the pool. Jump in and find out. So s.e.xy if you're already in the pool.Skye: Nah. Got my own plan, thx. Nah. Got my own plan, thx.

With that, Skye threw her phone on a chaise and Kristen's shoulders rolled forward in defeat. But they didn't stay that way for long. Skye, the ultimate alpha, had rejected her friend's advice only because she hadn't thought of it herself.

But that didn't mean she wasn't going to take it.

After another check for security, she pulled off her scarves, tossed them over her shoulder, and walked straight for the pool.

Oprah grabbed Shakespeare's hand. Shakespeare grabbed Einstein's. Einstein grabbed Kristen's. Kristen grabbed Bill's. And Bill smiled.

They lowered their chins and bit their lips, doing whatever they could to keep from laughing out loud.

When she got to the edge of the deep end, Skye hooked her finger around the back of her bikini bottom and pulled the creeping material from her b.u.t.t crack. Now Now she was ready . . . but she didn't move. Instead she stood perfectly still, her pink pedicured toes curled over the concrete and her arms pressed against her sides. she was ready . . . but she didn't move. Instead she stood perfectly still, her pink pedicured toes curled over the concrete and her arms pressed against her sides.

"What is she doing?" mouthed Einstein.

Everyone shrugged.

Flip-flop . . . flip-flop . . . flip-flop . . .

Suddenly they heard what she heard. Dune was getting closer. And, like Ma.s.sie always said, why take the stage during intermission? In other words, if no one is watching, why bother doing?

"Hey," Dune whisper-greeted Skye as he got closer.

Skye pretended she didn't know he was there and jumped.

She bent at the knees (showing off her chiseled dancer's legs), lifted her arms over her head (like she was the Sugar Plum Fairy in the Nutcracker), and pushed off with her toes.

Kristen held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut.

Next came the sound of someone slapping a fat man's gut, followed by the muted shriek of a girl who'd landed headfirst in chilly, jiggling, NutraSweetened Jell-O. Kristen opened one eye. Then another. Bill Gates had shut off the water reflection, and Skye now looked like a mini marshmallow in vat of pink Jell-O. The Witty Committee broke out in laughter.

Flip-flop flip-flop flip-flop flip-flop flip-flop flip-flop . . .

Dune hurried to her rescue.

When he got to the edge and saw the blonde covered in wiggly red chunks, he burst out laughing. "What a sucker punch!"

Kristen picked at her cuticles, unsure whether his laughter would: A) Bring them closerB) Drive them apart.C) Alert Dwight the security guard and get them all arrested.