OCD
THE CAFÉ

Thursday, February 12th 12:41 P.M.

The girls were sitting at number eighteen, their usual lunch table in the Café. Alicia was licking the tops of her California rolls, Claire was eating a bowl of Cap’n Crunch, Kristen was drinking whole milk from the carton, and Dylan was pulling the cheese off her pizza, hoping to lose a few extra pounds before the big dance. Massie was the only one without an appetite. How could she possibly digest anything when all the girls in school looked like they were about to audition for a Christina Aguilera video?

Massie made an I-just-sucked-a-lemon face. “Why does everyone look so Nina-ish today?”

“I can’t believe how many people are copying her. How ticepath.” Kristen sat up in her chair so she could pull her denim miniskirt out of her butt.

“I doh, id is pathetic.” Dylan coughed and pulled a tin of imported French lemon drops out of the side pocket on her Chinese silk bathrobe. She was wearing it over jeans, and it actually looked kind of fashion-forward, even though she was just being sick and lazy.

Massie was tempted to call them hypocrites but decided against it. She didn’t want to push Kristen and Dylan any closer to Nina than they already were.

“Massie, how are you going to wear your hair tomorrow night?” Alicia asked as she took a sip of her virgin cosmopolitan. Suddenly, she stuck out her pink tongue. “Ew, this tastes like warm Kool-Aid.”

“Oooh, that reminds me. . . .” Massie pulled out her cell phone and speed dialed Jakkob. “I need to schedule an updo.” She picked at the whole-wheat toast crust on her tuna sandwich while she waited for someone at the salon to answer. “Yes, hi, Casey, this is Massie Block. . . . Bean is great, thanks. She loves the styling gel you gave her. . . . Listen, I was wondering if I could borrow Jakkob tomorrow at around four-ish for a quick updo. I have a big event tomorrow night and I have to look ah-mazing.” She winked at Claire when she said that. “Four-fifteen? Perfect . . . see you then.” She chucked her tuna on wheat in the trash and folded her arms across her chest. “Done.”

“I heard your bommy is coming to the dance.” Dylan turned to Kristen. She laced her fingers behind her head and leaned back in her chair. “That should bake for a romantic evening with Kemp Hurley.”

“Oh, like Chris Plovert is going to think your sinusitis is hot?” Kristen snapped back.

“Maybe you two should call off this bet,” Massie suggested. “It’s tearing you apart.”

“Yeah. Besides, you should only kiss someone if you really love them. Not just to do it.”

“Listen to the expert.” Dylan smirked. “Cam won’t even talk to you.”

“Ouch,” Alicia said.

“He’ll come around.” Claire nodded. “The hearts said so.”

A few seconds later Massie got a text message. She wanted it to be Derrington so badly, she waited a few seconds before she checked it. It was always better be to full of hope than disappointment.

When she finally looked, her heart sank. It was from Claire.

CLAIRE: Has Derrington called U yet?

MASSIE:

CLAIRE: Cam hasn’t called either. I should call. The kiss is tomorrow.

“Don’t call him, Kuh-laire. Make him come to you.”

Claire shot Massie a Thanks-a-lot-for-betraying-my-confidence look, but Massie didn’t care. There was only so much Dr. Phil she could give, especially when things were so terrible with Derrington. She had gone through two tubes of Glossip Girl in one week, and the flavors had been Raisin Pudding and Hay. The stress was driving her to overapply.

“That’s what Deena always says. Bake them cub to you.”

“I love that you’re finally starting to take Nina’s advice,” Kristen said. “If there’s one thing she knows about, it’s boys.”

“I like to think I know a little more than just that,” Nina purred as she dropped a chair down at number eighteen and sat. She was wearing one of Sage’s Virgins for Life T-shirts, with the word NOT written across it in red paint.

“FYI, I wasn’t taking her advice,” Massie corrected. “I just read about male psychology in Teen Vogue.”

“It’s okay to admit you want to be like me. Everyone else has.” Nina looked around the Café and smiled at all of the girls who were wobbling around in knee-high boots, microminis, and tight, revealing tops. “Look, Kristen.” Nina was pointing to a group of girls wearing cowboy hats. “I told you the hat thing would catch on.”

“Ehmagod.” Kristen smiled brightly. “You were so right.”

“I wonder what I am better at?” Nina asked no one in particular. “Fashion advice or guy advice?”

“Nina, are you a magician?” Massie asked.

“No . . .”

“Then why are you acting all delusional?”

“Uh, Massie,” Kristen whispered softly, “magicians do illusions, not de-lusions.”

Massie felt the prickly heat of embarrassment tickle her spine. “It’s not like she’ll know the difference. She’s from Spain.”

“Who are you calling a magician?” Nina asked as a group of giddy girls approached their table and hovered around her.

“Nina, you have to help me.” Cookie Holsen reached into her purple Dooney & Bourke Nile duffel and pulled out two different outfits. One was a red BCBG satin dress with Spanish ruffles around the sleeves and the other was a black see-through V-necked tank top and a pair of leather short shorts.

Nina rubbed each outfit between her thumbs and sighed. “Do you have to ask?”

“The leather short shorts?” Cookie offered.

“Given!”

“Hey, that’s my word,” Alicia whispered to Massie.

“Not anymore,” Massie whispered back. “She steals everything.”

“Cookie.” Massie curled her index finger so the girl would lean toward her. Once their eyes met, Massie whispered, “If you want to look stylish, I suggest the red dress. Ruffles are very hot right now.”

“I want to look like Nina,” Cookie said. “Besides, she has way more experience with boys, so I kinda want to take her advice for now. No offense.” The two girls standing behind her nodded their heads in agreement, then revealed bags full of outfits that were ready for Nina’s approval.

“You know, Massie,” said Elise West, one of Cookie’s friends, “you should have Nina contribute to your blog. You know, when it comes to fashion and boys. Oh, and makeup.”

“Or maybe she should write the whole thing,” offered Alexis Higgins, Cookie’s other friend.

“She’s right, Nina.” Cookie was shifting nervously from one high-heeled boot to the other. “You have better advice than anyone else in the entire school.”

Massie could have sworn Cookie was looking right at her when she said that. And she could feel her insides starting to tremble. It was a combination of extreme anger and pain. Nina was destroying her empire. And she wasn’t even famous!

Nina must have sensed Massie’s frustration. “What is that expression you Americans use?” She snapped her fingers a few times as if that would somehow help her remember. “Ah, yes. Don’t be sad over milk?”

“You mean, no use crying over spilt milk?” Cookie shouted.

“Yes, that’s it.” Nina smiled. “Massie, there’s no use crying over spilt milk. There’s a new fashion goddess in town, and you have to get over it.”

“You’re right.” Massie half-smiled. She could feel her friends’ eyes on her.

“She is?” Alicia asked.

“Yup.” Massie grabbed the milk carton away from Kristen’s thirsty lips and in one swift motion dumped the contents on Nina. “There’s no use crying over spilt milk.” It drenched her Virgins for Life shirt and soaked the ends of Cookie’s tangled black hair.

Everyone broke into a fit of laughter except Nina, Cookie, and her two friends. It was like they had been frozen solid with their mouths open.

Suddenly, a bony hand clamped down on Massie’s shoulder. A long, brittle fingernail dug into the back of her neck, and she wondered if a bird might have flown in through the window and landed on her. She turned her head slowly, just in case she was right.

“Detention!” Principal Burns squawked. She handed Massie a pink slip. “That makes three in one week, Miss Block.”

Massie opened her mouth to respond, but Principal Burns cut her off before she could manage to get out the first syllable.

“One more and you’ll be suspended.” She circled Massie’s chair, never taking her beady black eyes off Massie’s face.

Nina was leaning back in her chair wearing a cocky smile.

Principal Burns finally turned her attention to Alicia.

“What did I do?” Alicia’s brown eyes were wide with innocence.

“You didn’t do anything. I came to give you this breaking news report.” Principal Burns handed Alicia a white paper napkin covered in her ultra-tiny, all-caps handwriting. There was a small coffee stain in the lower left-hand corner. “Apparently, a miniature camera was found in the boys’ locker room at Briarwood. Coach Pierce is accusing Grayson Academy of espionage. He’s pressuring the athletics board to cancel the finals game until there has been a full investigation.”

Massie felt her heartbeat quicken.

“No!” Kristen shouted. “He can’t call off the finals. I’ve been waiting all year for this game.”

“Well, you may want to consider a class in time management, Miss Gregory,” Principal Burns said. “Now I suggest you hurry, Alicia. The public deserves to know what’s going on here.”

“I’m on it.” Alicia saluted the principal, then turned and walked away.

“I said hurry!” Principal Burns shouted.

“I am!” Alicia said.

Massie was so excited by the news, she could hardly sit still. As soon as Principal Burns left, she pulled out her cell phone and sent an urgent message to Claire and Alicia.

MASSIE: Meet me on the library steps after detention. Wear dark clothes. Come alone. We’re going in.