The Pretty Committee Strikes Back Part 8

Ma.s.sie glared at her, silently saying, "You've already done enough, let me handle this."

Claire lowered her eyes.

"You're forgiven," Ma.s.sie accidentally said out loud as she casually watched Derrington high-five his soccer team buddies.

"Huh?" Alicia asked.

"Uh, nothing."

"Aloha." Olivia bounced into their circle. Her smile was wide and her teeth were so white they bordered on blue. Her super-sunny disposition and b.u.t.tery blond hair were blinding. Ma.s.sie slipped on her Oliver Peoples Commander sungla.s.ses to protect her pupils from the glare.

"Sorry I'm late," Olivia said, as if anyone had actually noticed or cared. "I was working on my oral."

The girls snickered and focused on the pavement below their feet.

"My oral," Olivia insisted, "hygiene." "hygiene."

The girls snickered again.

A light breeze introduced them to a whiff of Mr. Myner's spicy cologne as he approached them. It smelled like Christmas-scented candles.

"Mr. Myner?" Ma.s.sie asked in her most innocent voice. Claire, Alicia, and Olivia leaned in. "My mother insists that you are the model on our roll of paper towels. But I said you're way too busy teaching geography to model for Brawny. Am I right?"

Everyone cracked up, even Mr. Myner.

"That's sweet of your mother." His too-dark-for-February tan instantly deepened. "But you're right, Ma.s.sie. I am am too busy to model." He casually rolled back his shoulders and stretched his arms behind his back. "Not that I haven't had opportunities." too busy to model." He casually rolled back his shoulders and stretched his arms behind his back. "Not that I haven't had opportunities."

Puh-lease, Ma.s.sie thought. He might have been too good looking to be a teacher, but he was way too into geography to ever be a model. Ma.s.sie thought. He might have been too good looking to be a teacher, but he was way too into geography to ever be a model.

"We will be boarding the bus in five minutes," Mr. Myner instructed. "We're just trying to squeeze the last pieces of luggage inside the storage s.p.a.ce."

"Maybe we should get another bus for luggage," Alicia suggested.

"Or maybe you girls need to be taught how to pack for a camping trip." Mr. Myner shook his head.

"We ahb-viously know how to pack." Ma.s.sie pointed to the avalanche of designer suitcases that was burying one of the security guards.

"Well, then, I am determined to teach you how not not to pack." Mr. Myner raced over to help clean up the mess. "We're leaving in five minutes." He held up a hand and wiggled his fingers. to pack." Mr. Myner raced over to help clean up the mess. "We're leaving in five minutes." He held up a hand and wiggled his fingers.

"'Kay," they shouted back in unison.

"Olivia," Alicia said, pulling her friend's arm. "Let's do a lap to find out if anyone is talking about Josh."

"Okay."

Once they left, Claire looked at Ma.s.sie. "I am so dead."

"Try to relax." Ma.s.sie looked over Claire's shoulder.

Claire turned around. Layne and Derrington were coming toward them, but not together. Layne was speed walking, as if she were desperately trying to beat him to the girls. She crossed the finish line first. "Claire, I need to speak to you." She took a squirt of Go-Gurt. "ASAP."

Ma.s.sie looked away in disgust. She didn't want Derrington to think she was okay with liquefied yogurt in a tube.

"What?" Claire sounded annoyed by the interruption.

"Wait, did you cut your bangs or did your forehead grow?" Layne asked.

"Jakkob had to fix them at five-thirty this morning." Claire sounded annoyed.

"They actually look cute now," Layne said. Then she remembered why she'd rushed over in the first place. Layne turned her back to Ma.s.sie. "Claire, I got it," she said through her teeth.

"What?" Claire insisted. Claire insisted.

Layne let her long tangled hair fall in front of her face. "It." "It."

"Oh." Claire suddenly caught on.

"Please come to the bathroom with me?" Layne whimpered.

"Uh, s-sure," Claire said, her blue eyes fixed on Cam. He was leaning against the back of the bus, listening to Kemp Hurley's iPod nano and bobbing his head. "Of course."

"Uh, Claire." Ma.s.sie's voice was filled with urgency. She didn't want to be left alone while Derrington was watching. It made her look like an LBR.

"Yeah?"

"Uh..." She waited until Derrington was standing right beside her. "Okay, then, I'll see you on the bus."

"'Kay." Claire looked confused.

"Hey, Block." Derrington's cheeks were rosy, just like his knees.

All of a sudden Ma.s.sie became super-aware of everything she was doing, like she was watching herself through Derrington's eyes. She ran her fingers through her freshly washed hair, then wondered if he thought she was trying to act s.e.xy. She fidgeted with her charm bracelet but stopped, thinking it made her look nervous. More than anything, Ma.s.sie wanted to apply a fresh coat of gloss, but that was out of the question. She wanted Derrington to think her lips were naturally reflective. He could never know that her captivating s.h.i.+mmer came from a tube. Never.

"Look, I'm wearing your pin." Derrington lifted up the leg of his red-and-white board shorts. The rhinestone M M pin Ma.s.sie had given him two weekends ago after the soccer finals was fastened to the bottom seam, on the right side. pin Ma.s.sie had given him two weekends ago after the soccer finals was fastened to the bottom seam, on the right side.

"Oh, no way!" Ma.s.sie tried to sound surprised, but she had already seen it. It was the first thing she'd looked for when she saw him. "It looks perfect on quick-drying polyester, much better than it ever looked on my cashmere sweaters."

Derrington laughed and wiggled his b.u.t.t. The gesture reminded Ma.s.sie of Bean. Every time the ah-dorable puppy got excited she would shake her bottom back and forth.

"Block, you crack me up." Derrington put his semi-muscular arm around Ma.s.sie's shoulder. His hand gave off an intense heat that made the muscles behind her knees go weak.

Ma.s.sie s.h.i.+fted from one moccasin to the other. Was she supposed to put her arm around him? Or would that look s.l.u.tty? Because just standing there, under the weight of his arm, made her feel like one of Plovert's aluminum crutches.

Alexandra, Livvy, and Carrie made teasing kissy-kissy sounds behind their backs, then ran away. Ma.s.sie had an audience. And with that came newfound courage. The second they returned she began her performance, Okay, Ma.s.sie, you're a confident diva in three ... two ... one... aaaand action!

She lifted her arm and rested it on his shoulder. But something didn't feel right. He was taller than she was, and it felt like if he moved, her arm might get ripped from its socket.

"That's okay." Derrington reached for Ma.s.sie's hand and placed it on the small of his back.

Alexandra, Livvy, and Carrie looked at one another and giggled.

Ma.s.sie was so embarra.s.sed she wanted to stomp on his foot and stab him with her M M pin. How dare he correct her in public? Didn't he know they were being watched? pin. How dare he correct her in public? Didn't he know they were being watched?

"I have to go get a seat on the bus." Ma.s.sie stepped away from him.

"No one's boarding yet," Derrington pointed out.

"Exactly." Ma.s.sie winked. "This is the best time." She quickly searched for a familiar face.

Dylan was just a few feet away touching up her mascara in the side mirror of a parked silver Audi. Perfect.

"Dylan, sorry to keep you waiting," Ma.s.sie shouted. "I'm ready."

Dylan looked up in confusion. The mascara wand was still touching the tips of her strawberry blond lashes. "Huh?"

"I know you've been waiting for me," Ma.s.sie insisted. "I'm ready now."

"Uh, cool." Dylan stuffed the green wand back into its pink tube and dropped it in her purse.

"Whatever." Derrington shook his head. "I guess I'll see you on the bus."

He walked away slowly, as if he were hoping Ma.s.sie might try to stop him. But what could she possibly say? "I'm sorry I didn't know where to put my arm?" "I'm sorry I moved away from you but I don't like being corrected in front of my public?" "Wait, don't leave me?" She wanted to say it all. Instead she watched him leave.

"What's his his problem?" Dylan asked. problem?" Dylan asked.

Ma.s.sie turned around to see if the girls were still watching her. But they were gone too. They must have a.s.sumed the show was over when Derrington left.

"Just typical boy drama." Ma.s.sie sounded as if she had seen and done it all.

"You're so lucky." Dylan sighed. "I wish I had some drama in my life. I'm so bored." She hoisted up her jeans, even though they weren't really falling down.

"It's your lucky day." Ma.s.sie pointed to the black stretch limo that was pulling into the parking lot. Dylan's famous mother, Merri-Lee Marvil, was in the very back, with her face sticking out the window. Her long red curls were blowing around her pink Chanel Stra.s.s sungla.s.ses. "Dylly!" she shouted and waved.

"Hide me." Dylan covered her eyes.

"Too late." Ma.s.sie couldn't help laughing. "I think she sees you."

"Oh Gawd," Dylan moaned.

The limo pulled up beside them and the driver shut off the engine. A white Daily Grind Daily Grind van with a satellite dish on top rolled up behind them. Everyone stopped what they had been doing and focused on Dylan's famous mother. van with a satellite dish on top rolled up behind them. Everyone stopped what they had been doing and focused on Dylan's famous mother.

It wasn't long before half the girls in the grade were dialing their mothers to fill them in on their celebrity sighting.

"Dyll Pickles!" Merri-Lee shouted. "You have no idea how fast we drove to get here."

Dylan's face turned the color of her hair.

"You didn't have to come," Dylan snapped in a hushed tone. But her mother was so busy smiling for her fans and posing for cell phone pictures that she didn't bother responding.

"Mom," Dylan snapped. "I hate to rush off but we have to board the bus." She hugged her mother as quickly as she could. "I'll call as soon as we get there."

"Uh, good to see you, Mrs. Marvil." Ma.s.sie smiled sweetly as Dylan pulled her away. "Oh, my mother loved the piece you did on Pilates for pets."

"Well, then, I'm sure she'll adore the Mother's Day story we're about to shoot." Merri-Lee clapped her hands together with childlike enthusiasm. She looked back at her driver. He was standing beside the limo with his hands clasped behind his back. "Franco, why don't you take my bags down to that bus over there? I'm sure someone will take pity and help you unload them."

"Very well, Mrs. Marvil." He got back in the car and drove away. The white Daily Grind Daily Grind van followed. van followed.

Merri-Lee turned to face the girls. Her surgically enhanced lips curled at the sides, like she had a secret inside her mouth that was fighting to free itself.

"Bags?" Dylan asked. "Why do you have bags?"

"Surprise!" Merri-Lee threw her thin arms above her head like a Vegas showgirl jumping out of a cake. She grabbed Dylan's shoulders with her long fingers and shook her with unbridled excitement. "I'm going to Lake Placid with you."

"What?" Dylan and Ma.s.sie exclaimed together.

"I know, isn't it great?" She beamed. "I'm doing a story on mother-daughter bonding, and your geography teacher said I could tag along with my crew. He's a s.e.xy one, isn't he?"

"Ew." Dylan winced.

Ma.s.sie turned her head and giggled nervously.

"Where is the mountain man? I need to introduce him to the crew." Merri-Lee snapped opened her diamond-studded compact and quickly powdered her dewy complexion. "You and I will have plenty of time to hang when we get there." She kissed her daughter on the forehead and ran away on her tippy-toes, leaving a heavy cloud of Lancome's Tresor behind her.

"I am so not going," Dylan declared to Ma.s.sie once they were alone.

"Why?" Ma.s.sie snickered. "This is exactly what you wanted."

"Huh?"

"You said you needed something to worry about, didn't you?"

Dylan rolled her eyes and let Ma.s.sie pull her toward the bus.

Mr. Myner cupped his hands around his mouth. "Let's go!" he shouted.

Ma.s.sie could feel the p.r.i.c.kly sweats coming back as she got closer to Derrington. Interacting with him in person was a billion times more nerve-racking than e-mailing him after school. Hopefully her deodorant was up for the challenge.

The girls from MUCK stood in a cl.u.s.ter, staring at the ever-shrinking s.p.a.ce between Ma.s.sie and Derrington. Once again, Ma.s.sie found strength in the presence of a captive audience.

"Are we sitting together?" Ma.s.sie heard herself ask Derrington. His eyes widened and he looked around him to make sure she was actually speaking to him. "Well, are we?"

Dylan pinched her forearm. She was ahb-viously impressed.

"Uh, yeah." He started to smile. "Totally."

"Cool," Ma.s.sie said. "Let's go to the back."

The girls from MUCK made kissing noises and followed closely behind them, wanting a seat near the action.