The Pretty Committee Strikes Back Part 22

"You did?" Ma.s.sie forced herself to smile. She was happy for Claire but couldn't help wondering why she hadn't been told the big news right after it happened. Was she the first to know or was Layne? Who else had Claire told before her?

"Uh, should I keep it a secret?" Ma.s.sie widened her amber eyes, hoping the innocent expression masked her true feelings. "Or does everyone know?"

"No one knows yet." Claire took a sip of grape juice.

Ma.s.sie sighed. "That's so awesome." She smiled for real this time. "Tell me everything. Don't leave one thing out."

While Claire recounted Cam's romantic late-night visit as Camille, Ma.s.sie placed the hunter green cloth napkin on her lap and lifted her silver knife and fork. In one swift movement she sliced through her eggs Benedict. The bright yellow yolks cascaded over the crispy ham, spilled off the toasted English m.u.f.fin, and dripped onto her white china plate. It reminded her of the paint-splattered Jackson Pollock paintings in Alicia's house. She stabbed the cut piece with her fork and stuffed it in her mouth, grateful to have her appet.i.te back. Her clothes were starting to sag in all the wrong places.

She lifted the green napkin to her mouth and dabbed at the corners of her lips, trying her hardest not to wipe off her lucky Cinnabon gloss in the process. Derrington was at the table beside hers, flinging a knifeful of grape jelly at Kemp. Ma.s.sie quickly turned away before he caught her checking him out. How long would it be before they kissed again? Would they start doing it in the day? Or would it stay an apres-dinner thing? And what would happen when they got back to Westchester? Ma.s.sie's stomach locked up again and she pushed her plate to the side.

"It looks like everyone around here is getting action except for me." Dylan twisted her long red curls into a chignon at the nape of her neck.

Claire turned red when she realized Dylan had heard everything she'd said about Cam. "I was totally going to tell you."

"It's not that." Dylan leaned across the table so that she was face-to-face with Claire and Ma.s.sie. "It's just that I've been so stressed about my mom and Mr. Myner that I haven't had any time to devote to my crush on Chris Plovert."

"So?" Ma.s.sie shrugged. "There's still time."

"Totally." Claire rested her hand on Dylan's shoulder. "We can come up with a plan for you to kiss him after dinner tonight. That's our specialty." She winked at Ma.s.sie.

"What I need is a plan to get rid of Olivia." Dylan glared at the perky blonde at the other end of the table. "Plovert is totally into her."

"How do you know?" Ma.s.sie insisted, even though she knew Dylan was right.

"Last night he asked me to find out if Olivia was into anyone." Dylan smacked her stack of syrupy pancakes with the back of a spoon.

"Oh." Ma.s.sie slid her compa.s.s charm back and forth on the gold chain around her neck.

"Attention, please," Mr. Dingle announced from the front of the room.

Ma.s.sie was grateful for the interruption. She wanted to make Dylan feel better but had no idea what to tell her. Everyone knew Plovert was into Olivia. He had been stalking her like a hungry bear ever since they'd stepped off the bus.

"Your attention, please." Mr. Dingle pushed his big square gla.s.ses up on his nose, then clasped his hands behind his back like he was hiding something back there. "Qui-et!"

The room was silent except for the sc.r.a.ping and clinking of knives and forks against china plates.

Once he had everyone's attention, Mr. Dingle revealed what he had been concealing. Everyone burst into hysterical laughter when he held up a tree branch with a pair of satin underwear dangling from it.

"I found this hanging from a tree at the beginning of Honeysuckle Trail behind the girls' cabin," he said. "And the worst part is, it was hanging a few feet away from an innocent snowy owl's nest."

The room exploded into more laughter. Claire turned bright red and looked at Layne. But Layne didn't notice. Her face was buried inside her backpack. She was pretending to search for something of great importance.

"Not only is dyed satin a huge environmental hazard ..." Mr. Dingle took off his gla.s.ses. His beady eyes searched the crowd. "But I'd hoped a few days in the wilderness would have taught you to respect nature." He waved the stick and underwear around like a shredded battle flag. "I demand to know who is responsible."

The room was silent, except for a few false accusations from the boys' table.

"If no one comes forward, you will all pay." Mr. Dingle put his gla.s.ses back on and pushed them into position with his index finger. "How does a six-mile hike and no lunch sound?"

The murmurs built until everyone was speaking at full volume.

"Claire, isn't that your your underwear?" Alexandra shouted from the other girls' table. "You have, like, ten pairs of those." underwear?" Alexandra shouted from the other girls' table. "You have, like, ten pairs of those."

"She'sright," Carrie said. "She'stheonlyone who wears fullpanties. Weallwearthongs."

The boys cracked up and started punching Cam. He turned bright red and whacked them back.

Claire hunched over and rubbed her forehead.

Ma.s.sie glared at Layne, silently threatening her to speak up, or else.

"Uh, I know who did it," Layne offered softly.

"Louder," Ma.s.sie said through her teeth.

Claire looked at Layne with a worried look on her face. She obviously didn't want her friend going down like this. Layne already took enough heat for her crazy outfits and disgusting food obsessions. If everyone found out she'd hidden dirty underwear in a tree, she'd never recover. It would be the final nail in her social coffin.

"I know who did it." Claire jumped to her feet.

The room was silent. Ma.s.sie's heart was pounding. She couldn't bring herself to look at Claire, even though she was dying to see what would happen next.

"They're hers hers." Claire pointed at Alicia.

"What?" Alicia screeched. She slapped her hand against her chest. "What are you tawk-ing about?"

Everyone started whispering.

"Alicia, is this true?" Mr. Dingle asked.

"No," Alicia insisted. Her cheeks turned the color of Claire's grape juice. "'Course not."

"Because if you're lying, everyone in this room is looking at a six-mile hike and-"

"It's true," Livvy piped up. "I saw Claire lend her a pan-when we got here."

"I saw that too," Alexandra said.

"Me too," Layne shouted. When no one was looking she mouthed "Thank you" to Claire.

"Ew, why would I ever borrow Claire's underwear?" Alicia shouted. "I think I can afford my own."

"You borrowed it, remember?" Olivia was obviously trying to be helpful. "It was the day we got here. We were unpacking and Claire gave you-"

Alicia elbowed Olivia in the stomach.

"Ow," Olivia wailed. "What'd you do that for?"

Alicia glared at Olivia until she finally realized she had made matters worse for her friend. "Ehmagawd, I am soooo sorry," she whispered.

Ma.s.sie was too shocked to get involved. She could not believe Claire had the guts to blame Alicia. But then again, Alicia kind of deserved it for putting the moves on Cam. But hadn't Alicia just been paying Claire back for kissing Josh? The situation was too complicated to pick a side, even for Ma.s.sie. She popped a home fry in her mouth and crossed her legs. It was nice to watch someone else's social life crash and burn for a change.

It wasn't long before the boys started chanting, "Alicia Rivera's underwear-a," over and over again.

"It's not mine." Alicia jumped to her feet.

But no one heard her over the chanting.

"Thanks ah-lot!" Alicia shouted at Claire before she turned and bolted. It was the first time Ma.s.sie had ever seen her run.

"Come back here, Ms. Rivera," Mr. Dingle insisted. But Alicia ran past him and straight out the door.

"I better go see if she's okay." Olivia threw her napkin on the table and chased after her friend.

"Me too." Dylan stuffed two bagels and a few slices of cheese in the pockets of her bomber jacket. "They're for Kristen," she said when she noticed Ma.s.sie's look of disgust. "It's my turn to bring her food."

Ma.s.sie grinned. She felt light and utterly stress-free, like she was on a spa vacation. This was so not her problem.

The chanting got louder.

"ALICIA RIVERA'S UNDERWEAR-A!"ALICIA RIVERA'S UNDERWEAR-A!"ALICIA RIVERA'S UNDERWEAR-A!"ALICIA RIVERA'S UNDERWEAR-A!"

"That's enough!" Mr. Dingle shouted. He dropped the stick and the dirty underwear in the trash. The chanting turned into whispers and then finally faded away.

"I feel terrible," Claire announced softly.

"Explain." Ma.s.sie took a sip of orange juice and popped another home fry in her mouth. She felt like she was watching a movie. She understood perfectly why Claire felt guilty blaming an innocent girl, but she didn't want the show to end. Why put out a perfectly good fire when you can throw more fuel on it and watch it it burn? burn?

"I know for a fact that was Layne's doing, not Alicia's," Claire whispered. "I was just so mad at her for trying to kiss Cam."

Ma.s.sie tore off a piece of baguette and dipped it in the raspberry jelly jar.

"I have to go say I'm sorry," Claire insisted.

"Tell me why you feel that way." Ma.s.sie imitated the shrink she had to see when she was having night terrors.

"I just do." Claire stepped over the bench, grabbed her baby blue puffy coat, and made a dash for the exit.

Ma.s.sie turned back to the table. Layne was staring at her blankly.

"Nice going, Layne ... the Stain." Ma.s.sie lifted her eyebrows and half smiled.

Layne pushed back her chair and ran after Claire.

Ma.s.sie turned to her left, then her right, looking for someone to crack up with. But no one was there. "Coming," she shouted to no one in particular. Then she ran out of the dining pavilion before anyone realized she had been left behind.

She expected to see the girls fighting outside the door but the campsite was strangely peaceful. The wind had died down, taking the bite out of the cold air. Now it just felt clean and refres.h.i.+ng. Ma.s.sie felt the weight of sadness inside her body when she realized it was their last day at Forever Wild campsite. It had turned out to be one of the best weeks ever ... for her.

The shower house seemed like a logical place to start looking for her friends, because girls in tears usually ran to the nearest sink. But the high-pitched shriek coming from inside the girls' cabin told her otherwise.

"I hate you!" she heard Dylan shout.

Ma.s.sie picked up speed. She couldn't stand to miss another second. She ran up the porch steps, two at a time. "What's going on?" she asked as she threw open the door.

The warm spicy smell of the roaring fire reminded her of her living room when her parents had company. But wait-who had been using the fireplace? Kristen would never make such a stupid mistake, would she?

It wasn't long before it all made sense. Mr. Myner and Merri-Lee were snuggled together on the couch in front of the fire and Dylan was standing over them with tears rolling down her bright red cheeks. Claire, Layne, Olivia, and Alicia stood behind her with their mouths hanging open. Ma.s.sie tiptoed over and joined them.

"I am so going to barf up my pancakes," Dylan shouted at them as she rubbed her stomach.

"Pickles, wait." Merri-Lee untangled herself from Mr. Myner and stood up. "You're way off base here."

"You should know," Dylan sneered. "You're ahb-viously an expert on bases."

"Good one," Ma.s.sie said under her breath. The rest of the girls shook their heads in agreement.

Dylan smiled softly through her tears. Then her expression quickly hardened again. She marched over to Ma.s.sie's bed and pulled the bagels and cheese out of her pocket. "Here's your stupid breakfast, Kristen." She held the food under the bed until Kristen's hand reached out and grabbed it.

Mr. Myner stood up and smoothed his hands over the front of his Levi's. "Kristen is here?'

"What are you doing?" Ma.s.sie mouthed to Dylan.

"Like they they have any right to preach about rules," Dylan sobbed. She stuffed her hands in her coat pockets and ran outside. have any right to preach about rules," Dylan sobbed. She stuffed her hands in her coat pockets and ran outside.

"Where is she?" Mr. Myner put his hands on his hips and rested a leg on one of the beanbags.

"Outside." Olivia pointed to the open door. "She just left."

"Not Dylan," Mr. Myner snapped. "Kristen!"

"Oh."

"Hi." Kristen slowly rolled out from under Ma.s.sie's bed. The back of her short blond hair was matted and tangled. A gray dust bunny was stuck to the back of her neck.

"How long have you been here?' Mr. Myner demanded.

"Coupla days." Kristen's voice trembled as she pushed herself up to stand.

"And you've been living under that bed?"

Ma.s.sie couldn't tell if he was shocked, angry, or impressed.

Kristen nodded.

"This is turning into a real survival story," Merri-Lee said. "Where's my crew?" She hit a speed dial number on her cell phone and tapped her bare foot while she waited for an answer.

"No cameras," Mr. Myner insisted. He pulled the cell phone out of Merri-Lee's hands and snapped it shut. "This is very serious." He didn't take his eyes off Kristen. "Do your parents know where you are?"

Kristen looked at the fluffy white rug below her feet.