2:04 PM
November 3rd
Massie waited for Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan to add the necessary amounts of Equal and cinnamon to their lattes before giving them the update.
“Requesting permission for twenty gossip points,” she said, then casually blew on her chai tea.
“Twenty points?” Alicia screeched. “That means you either have a copy of our science test or Britney's getting married again and you scored us an invite.”
“Britney Foster's getting married?” Olivia asked. “She's a grade below us.”
“NO, Britney Sp—”
“Isn't she sooo hilarious,” Alicia jumped in. But no one was laughing.
“My news will be released to the public in an assembly tomorrow morning, but if you want to hear it now, it will cost you twenty,” Massie said
“Done,” Dylan said.
“Done,” Kristen said.
“Done,” Alicia said.
“Done,” Olivia said.
“Is there an echo in here? I thought I heard an extra ‘done.’” Massie looked around the Café. If she had been speaking to Alicia, she would have asked her why Olivia was there. “Anyway, after the assembly, while everyone was protesting—”
“Yeah, where were you? We were looking everywhere,” Dylan said.
“I ran straight to Pia Vogel's office to have a word with her about the whole uniform thing.” Massie decided to leave out the part about hiding in the bathroom.
“I hope your word was ‘totally unfair,’” Olivia said.
“That's two words.” Kristen rolled her eyes.
“Oh.”
Massie didn't tell them she talked to Pia about designing the uniforms herself. Because Pia's answer was no. Massie only told them how the conversation ended.
“So after a lot of back and forth, Pia finally agreed to hold an OCD uniform design contest. She even said she'd call the editors at Teen People and ask them to do a story on the winner. There will be a fashion show on Saturday. That's when the voting will take place.”
“How awesome!” Olivia clapped and bounced up and down. She stopped when she noticed no one else seemed excited.
“This week? That's totally unrealistic.” Kristen rubbed her eyes. “How are we supposed to design something that quickly?”
“I know, it sucks, but they want to start the uniform thing ASAP,” Massie explained. “I tried to fight it, but Pia wouldn't budge.”
“This whole thing sucks,” Kristen said. “The last thing I need is more homework this week.”
“Yeah.” Dylan frowned. “I have over thirty hours of unwatched shows piling up on my TiVo. Now I have to learn how to sew?”
Massie was determined to sell them on the idea since she was responsible for the entire mess.
She laughed out loud.
“What's so funny?” Alicia asked. “They're right—this whole thing blows.”
“You guys crack me up,” Massie said. “I love when you do that thing where you pretend to miss the point. I fall for it every time.”
Olivia looked relieved.
“I mean, Kristen, you of all people must be psyched about this. You'll never have to switch outfits in the car on the way to school ever again. If you design the winning outfit and it becomes the school uniform, your mother will have to let you wear it,” Massie said. Kristen's navy blue eyes sparkled at the very idea.
“And Dylan, Philippe, your mom's wardrobe guy, can help you. You won't even have to touch a piece of fabric.”
Massie could tell her friends were warming up to the idea.
“Alicia, the other day you said you wished more people dressed like you. If you win this contest, everyone will.”
“That was the first time Massie spoke directly to Alicia all morning.
“When I left Pia, she was ordering T-shirts that said OCD Puts the U in Uniform,” Massie said. “She wants to give them out on the night of the show.”
“It kind of sounds like fun,” Dylan said.
“You deserve more than twenty points for this, Mass,” Kristen said. “You saved us.”
“It also means we only have a couple of weeks left to wear our new fall clothes.” Alicia smiled.
“Speaking of which, I need to recall anything I've lent you in the last six months.” Massie tightened her three scarves. “I'm desperate for something new to wear.”
The girls nodded. Now if only Massie could get rid of Olivia and keep Derrington from coming between her friends. Just then, as if on cue, Alicia's cell phone vibrated.
“Look, it's from Derrington.” Alicia tilted the tiny screen toward Olivia. “He wants to know what's up.”
“How cute of him.” Olivia gathered her long blond hair and tossed it behind her head.
Kristen and Dylan instinctively turned to each other to roll their eyes but looked away once they remembered they weren't speaking to each other.
“Massie, he's asking if you're around,” Olivia said, looking at the screen.
Why couldn't it be Cam?
“Massie, he wants me to thank you for the party,” Alicia relayed. “He had a blast.”
“He already thanked me, so how 'bout I just credit that one to your account?” But Massie's clever comeback was lost on Alicia. She was busy typing and giggling with Olivia.
“He's sweet.” Alicia snapped her phone shut. “I'm sure he'll make one of you very happy.”
“Whatever, I don't want your sloppy seconds,” Kristen said. “I'm going to get started on my design.”
“Same,” Dylan said. “I'm thinking of doing something reversible so it will be like having two uniforms instead of one.”
“That's what I was going to do,” Kristen said. “You heard me talking about that after the assembly, didn't you?”
“NO!” Dylan shouted. “I haven't listened to anything you've said all day.”
Massie rolled her eyes as she gathered up her books. At least no one was mad at her. She knew she'd find a way to fix things and bring them all together again. She just needed a little time.
The bell rang and the girls tossed their cups in a nearby trash can.
“What are you going to design?” Dylan asked Massie.
“I'll figure it out in American history,” she said. “I do some of my best scheming in that class.”
It seemed like everyone had fallen for Derrington's unkempt good looks except Massie. How could anyone like a boy who always wore shorts, even in the winter? His kneecaps were constantly purple from the cold and for Massie, love could never be that blind. Cam, on the other hand, made his fashion statement with a beat-up motorcycle jacket. It was one of the many things he had inherited from his older brother, Harris, who was a senior at Briarwood. Cam's love of The Strokes, the Godfather movies, and soccer were also Harris hand-me-downs. But the jacket was his favorite. The worked-in brown leather was filled with cracks and oil stains, but Massie saw beyond the filth because the vintage piece was the perfect mix of rugged and soft. Just like Cam.
Bean was the only living creature that knew about Massie's crush. And she hated how pathetic Kristen and Dylan looked, fighting over a guy who didn't necessarily like either one of them. For the time being she would have to come up with an excuse to contact Cam all by herself.
After school, she found his e-mail address in her deleted messages folder and was glad she hadn't erased his RSVP from her files.
After twenty minutes of writing and erasing her message, she settled on:
HEY, CAM,
JUST WONDERING IF YOU LEFT A PAIR OF SHIN GUARDS HERE
AFTER THE HALLOWEEN PARTY. RENNY WHITE WAS THE ONLY OTHER GUY
DRESSED AS A SOCCER PLAYER AND I REALLY DON'T WANT TO CALL HIM
'CAUSE HIS VOICE SOUNDS LIKE SNUFFLEUPAGUS AND I LAUGH EVERY TIME I
TALK TO HIM. 
-MB
Massie read the e-mail three times before sending it. She prayed Cam hadn't actually lost his shin guards because she didn't have any to give him.
Her e-mail dinged immediately and Massie's heart leapt. Cam had replied. Massie put on a thick coat of lip gloss and fluffed up her hair before opening it.
MB-
I HAVE MY SHIN GUARDS. THNX. I LOL'ED WHEN I READ ABOUT RENNY. I ALWAYS THOUGHT THAT TOO. HEY, THERE'S A RUMOR GOING AROUND THAT OCD IS GOING UNIFORM. TRUE? ALSO HEARD IT'S YOUR FAULT. IF IT IS, THAT'S PRETTY COOL.
I LIKE TROUBLEMAKERS.
-C
“Oh my God, Bean,” Massie gulped as she lifted her dog onto her lap. “He practically admitted he likes me! Now what?”
Massie hopped up from her chair and paced around her room, Bean still in her arms.
“It can't end like this. It may be weeks before I talk to him again. What if he forgets he likes me?”
The sound of Bean's panting kept Massie from feeling alone.
“I wish you could talk. But I guess if you could, I wouldn't tell you anything, so maybe it's better that you don't.”
Massie sat back down in front of her computer and went for it.
IT'S A GREAT STORY. CALL ME IF YOU WANT TO HEAR IT. IF NOT, I'LL SEE YOU SOON.
-MB
Massie was proud of her last response. It was an invitation for him to call her, but at the same time she made it seem like it didn't matter if he took her up on it.
Her phone rang seconds later. She answered.
“Hi, Massie?”
It was Cam.
“Are you eating?” Massie asked. “I can hear you chomping on something.”
“It's Big League Chew.”
“Grape?”
“Yeah,” Cam said. “How did you know?”
“It's what you always chew.”
Massie was so charged with energy she wanted to scream. She stopped pacing long enough to sit down at her computer and do a quick search on The Godfather just in case it came up (a 1972 film directed by Francis Ford Coppola … zzz … zzz … zzz …). Luckily it never did.
They talked about their classes, their families, and their favorite Web sites. He even asked what it was like having “the new girl” around all the time and said he “totally felt her pain” when she explained what a drag it was. There were only two awkward silences in the entire thirty-seven-minute conversation and he promised to make her a CD mix of his favorite Strokes songs. If his mother hadn't called him to dinner, they would have talked all night.
When Massie hung up the phone, she was ready to burst. Even though they made no solid plans to see each other (ugh!), Cam promised he would call her again and Massie believed him.
“Bean!” Massie hugged her dog. “I wish I could be friends with myself so I'd have someone to jump up and down with right now.”
Massie closed her blinds to make sure Claire couldn't see into her bedroom and then hopped up on her bed. She jumped twice and let out a big “whoo-hoo,” but that was the extent of her victory dance. She felt stupid celebrating alone.