THE BLOCK ESTATE
MASSIE (& CLAIRE)’S BEDROOM

Tuesday, February 10th 7:50 A.M.

“Massie!” Claire banged on the bathroom door for the third time. “Isaac is honking the horn and I haven’t even showered yet. Will you please hurry up?” She loosened the bow on her blue terry cloth robe and contemplated skipping the hygiene thing so they wouldn’t be late. But she’d done that yesterday.

“I would have been in here sooner if you hadn’t kept me up half the night snoring,” Massie shouted over the sound of the water. “You know how hard it is getting out of bed after two hours of sleep?”

Claire leaned forward and yelled at the white high-gloss paint on Massie’s bathroom door. “Well, it’s not like I slept any better. I can’t believe you need to keep the blinds open. The light from the full moon practically scorched my eyelids.”

Isaac honked the horn again.

“Massie,” Kendra’s voice bleated through the intercom, “Isaac has been waiting for ten minutes. Will you please get in the car before the neighbors sue us for noise pollution?”

Claire stepped out of her robe and threw on a fresh pair of jeans and a crisp white long-sleeved T-shirt. At least she would look clean.

She padded over to Massie’s bay window and stood motionless, watching the workmen scurry around the backyard, some carrying fistfuls of lumber, others hammering and drilling. They were still working on the base of the house, which looked like a big wooden stage. Claire sighed. At this rate, she would be stuck living with Massie until college.

Finally the pipes squeaked and the water stopped running.

Claire laced up her camouflage Converse high-tops and tried not to feel jealous when she heard the breathy scream of Massie’s hairdryer. She missed that just-washed feeling and the herbal smell of her shampoo. Claire knew her strawberry-scented oil from the Body Shop was a weak substitution for soap but dabbed a few drops behind her ears anyway. It was all she could do.

The low farting sound of Todd’s tuba seeped through the walls. Claire clenched her fists a little tighter with every off-key blast.

Massie stepped out of the bathroom. “What is this?” She was holding a tiny black object that was no bigger than a button. An avalanche of steam followed her. “I found it in the shower.”

Claire walked toward her and plucked the mysterious item out of Massie’s palm. The instant she saw it, she knew what it was, and her heart started racing. “I dunno. I can’t think with that tuba blasting in the other room. I’m going to tell Todd to stop. I’ll be in the car.”

“Did you just say you’ll bring Bean back?” Massie asked.

“No. I said I’ll be in the car.”

“Oh.”

Claire scooped up her backpack, stomped next door to Todd’s room, and barged in without knocking. Her brother was standing on his bed in a pair of SpongeBob SquarePants boxers, watching himself play tuba in the mirror.

“Is this one of your cameras?” Claire shouted in a whisper.

Todd ignored her and kept playing.

She kicked the leg of his bed. “One blast for yes, two for no.”

Puuuurp

“Todd, you can’t hide cameras in Massie’s shower. That’s beyond perverted, and it’s illegal.”

Puuurp

She could see the corners of his mouth curling up. He was trying not to laugh.

“If I find anymore spy gear, I’m telling Mom,” Claire said. “And the police.”

Puuurp, puuurp.

“Yes, I am!” Claire stormed out of his room.

Isaac started honking again as she ran down the stairs.

“Claire,” Judi shouted from the kitchen. “Hurry up!”

“I say let them be late,” Kendra said. “It’s the only way they’ll learn.”

Claire stood outside the kitchen and listened.

“I can’t just ignore this, Kendra.” Judi sounded upset. “Tardiness is a bad habit.”

“I know, dear, but they’re growing up, and they have to learn to make their own mistakes.” Kendra’s white coffee cup made a clinking sound as she set it down on the matching china saucer.

“Where I come from, mistakes are things like adding two cups of sugar when the recipe calls for one. Not letting my daughter develop a reputation for being disrespectful,” Judi said.

“Are you saying I encourage Massie to be disrespectful?”

“Are you saying you don’t?”

“Uh, good morning.” Claire forced a smile. “Massie will be right down. She’s really upset about being late; she just has a terrible stomachache.

Kendra smirked at Judi. “Is she okay? Does she want to stay home?”

Massie hurried into the kitchen. She was cradling Bean in her arms. “No, I’m feeling much better.” She thanked Claire silently with her eyes. “Let’s go.” She pressed her finger into one of the points on her gold star brooch that was pinned to the side of her navy blue cashmere cowl-neck. The color of the sweater reminded Claire of the night sky. She yawned and rubbed her tired, burning eyes.

Massie opened the front door, bent down, and picked up her latest delivery of Glossip Girl. She tore open the brown box on her way to the car and read the label on the silver tube. “Ew.” She whipped it into the back of the workmen’s pickup truck.

“What was it?” Claire asked as she slid across the backseat of the Range Rover.

“Baby’s Breath.” Massie made a disgusted face as she pulled the seat belt across her lap and clicked it in the buckle.

“You didn’t even open it.”

“Why would I? It probably smells like spit-up.”

Claire didn’t bother telling Massie that Baby’s Breath was a type of flower. It was payback for not being able to shower for two days in a row.

“No talking,” Isaac snapped as he pulled out of the Blocks’ circular driveway. “I have a terrible headache from honking that horn all morning.”

“Sorry Isaa—”

“Claire.” He turned around and looked her in the eye. “I said no talking.”

Massie giggled, then turned to face the window. He told Alicia, Nina, Dylan, and Kristen the same thing when he picked them up. For the first time in carpool history, the girls rode to school in complete silence.

When Isaac stopped the silver Range Rover in front of the school, they were ten minutes late. Massie kicked open the door with her foot and jumped onto the pavement. She was gasping for air.

“I almost asphyxiated on your cheap perfume,” she spat at Nina. “The bottle should come with a childproof cap and a number for the poison control hotline.”

Claire and Alicia laughed. Dylan and Kristen looked at Nina with sympathy.

“Go to class,” Isaac shouted before screeching out of the parking lot.

The girls strolled up the main stairs of OCD and ducked when they passed Principal Burns’s window.

When they were safely inside, Massie whispered to Kristen and Dylan, “What are you two wearing?” They stopped walking and looked at their own outfits, then glanced at Nina.

“Did you put them up to this?” Massie started walking again. Then everyone else did too.

“Sí. I think they look sexy.” Nina bent down and fluffed the pink pom-poms on her red suede knee-high boots.

“Sexy?” Massie turned to Nina. “Look at Dylan’s makeup. It looks like she spent the morning making out with a clown.”

“Danks ha lot, Bassie.” Dylan sneezed. “I tink it looks good. I need a little color on my face ’cause I’ve been doh sick.” She blew her nose and examined the tissue. It was covered in red lipstick and orange foundation.

“Gross!” Alicia laughed.

“And Kristen, I don’t know what’s worse—that tacky pink Wet Seal V-neck or the C-cups poking out of it.” Massie looked away in horror.

Claire couldn’t help laughing. It looked like Kristen’s boobs were being smothered against their will.

“It’s a Victoria’s Secret water bra.” Kristen adjusted her cleavage by squeezing her arms together and squirming around. “Nina said it would make me feel more feminine, you know, while my hair grows out.”

“Don’t tell me,” Massie said to Alicia. “You’re wearing a garter belt under your Frankie B.’s, right?”

“No.” Alicia looked upset that Massie had even suggested such a thing.

“I tried to get her to wear a micromini because she has such long legs, but she was too afraid of what Mayssie would say.” Nina made a baby face when she said, “Mayssie.”

Massie looked at Alicia with a pleased grin. Alicia humbly returned it.

“Maybe you three should wear Sage’s Virgins for Life shirts.” Nina burst out laughing at her own joke. Her shrill cackle echoed through the empty halls.

“Why aren’t you girls in class?” Principal Burns shouted from the other end of the hall.

“Uh, sorry we’re late,” Kristen apologized politely. “W-we had car trouble.”

“Do you have a note?”

“Laaaaaahhh,” Nina sang. “That note was D minor.”

Dylan was the only one who giggled.

Principal Burns put her hands on her hips and tapped her sensible rubber-soled winter boot against the freshly waxed floors.

“Now I have something for you. It also starts with D. It’s called a detention. And you’ll serve it now, during first period.”

Kristen gasped. “But that counts as an absence,” she said. “And my scholarship only lets me have—”

“You should have thought of that when you were moseying down the hall at 8:45 A.M.,” said Principal Burns. “Now go to room six while I notify your parents.”

“No, please don’t,” Kristen pleaded. “My mom will freak.”

But all they heard were the squeaky rubber soles of Principal Burns’s boots as she hurried back to her office.

“I am so grounded.” Kristen ran her hand against the lockers while they walked. “I bet my mother says I can’t go to the dance.”

“Really?” Dylan’s face lit up. “Nina, does that mean I automatically win the bet?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, you’re a good friend,” Kristen snapped.

“This is for three pairs of boots,” Dylan said. “It has nothing to do with friendship.”

“Well, I’ll dig a tunnel with a spoon and crawl to the dance if I have to. Because I’m not going to let you beat me.”

Dylan puckered up and chased Kristen down the hall with her germ-infested lips. “Come ’ere, sexy—I can’t resist your water bra.”

The door to room six seemed to open on its own when the girls arrived. But Mrs. Peckish was on the other side, resting one of her wrinkled, veiny hands on the knob and running the other through her unruly shoulder-length white hair. She was wearing a giant misshapen puke-green sweater. It swallowed up her tiny frame.

“Welcome.” She sounded like a witch in a haunted house. “You will spend the next thirty minutes in silence staring into my tired old eyes, thinking about what you have done to deserve this.” She was brewing a pot of black coffee that made the whole room smell bitter.

Mrs. Peckish was so frail and creepy that Claire wondered if maybe OCD had been built on her grave and she had come back to haunt it.

The girls sat in a straight line across the back row of seats and stared at Mrs. Peckish like they were told. It was the first time Claire had even seen bare walls in a classroom. No maps, flags, or posters of Einstein, just a peeling layer of pus-yellow paint and a chalkboard.

A cold draft blew through the room, and Claire stuck her icy hands under her armpits for warmth. She looked at the open window, then at Mrs. Peckish. The teacher smiled kindly, walked over to the window, and opened it even more.

Dylan sneezed.

“Can I get a Kleenex?” She pinched her nose.

“No,” Mrs. Peckish snapped. “You stay here. I’ll get it.”

The minute she left the room, the girls started whispering.

“You better take care of that cold,” Nina instructed. “You don’t want to be sick for the dance.”

“I doh.” Dylan sniffed. “Do you doh who you’re going with yet?”

“I couldn’t decide between Josh, Cam, and Derringtons,” Nina said. “So they are all going to take me.”

“You’re lying,” Massie barked.

“I am not. They certainly didn’t run away from me.”

Claire clenched her fist and waited for Massie to jump in with a cutting remark. But she didn’t. In fact, Massie didn’t say anything at all. She just stared at Nina with her squinted amber eyes and slowly shook her head.

“FYI, Josh wasn’t running away from me—he was just running, period,” Alicia said. “And I simply don’t do that.”

“Hey, you three should join in on our bet. It will be nuf.”

Before anyone could answer, Dylan flipped her hair and said, “Oh, I could never do a thing like that. My name is Claire and I want my first kiss to be romaaaaantic.”

Claire couldn’t believe Dylan was throwing that back in her face.

Kristen and Nina laughed.

“I’ll still get my kiss,” Claire insisted. “You’ll see.” She bit down on her thumbnail.

“Silence.” Mrs. Peckish came back into the room. “Look at me.”

A few seconds later Claire felt her cell phone vibrating in her back pocket. She managed to keep her eyes locked on Mrs. Peckish while she pulled it out. When the witch turned around to pour herself another cup of coffee, Claire

read the message.

MASSIE: N is so done. Must get revenge.

Claire couldn’t type without looking at her screen like Massie could, so she looked over and nodded her head to show that she agreed.

MASSIE: A is on board.

Alicia kept her face forward but shifted her big brown eyes toward Claire. Claire nodded again.

MASSIE: Lemme think of plan.

This time Claire didn’t nod in agreement. Instead she looked down at her swollen cuticles and imagined how satisfying it would be if she were the one to hatch the evil plan, not Massie. Ever since Nina had come to town, Cam had stopped talking to her. No more mix CDs, love letters, or candy. Now she would never get to kiss him at the dance. She was tired of crying herself to sleep over Cam and brushing it off as snoring. It was time to take action.

CLAIRE: I have flan.

She managed to type without looking.

Massie shot her a confused look and must have forwarded the message, because Alicia giggled.

“Hey!” Mrs. Peckish made a peace sign with her fingers and then turned it on its side so it looked like she was poking herself in the eyes with it. The girls did what they were told until the teacher reached into her purse to search for her bag of sunflower seeds.

MASSIE: U really have plan?

Claire nodded and held up her palm to show that she swore by it. Operation Toe Jam was something she’d done with her girlfriends back in Orlando when they wanted to flirt. But with a few tweaks, it could be used to bring Nina down. And Claire knew that would give Massie a good enough reason to like her again.