THE RIVERA ESTATE
WELCOME TO WESTCHESTER PARTY

Sunday, January 25th 6:43 P.M.

“Is this really Alicia’s house?” Claire asked Massie as they climbed the stone steps that led to the arched mahogany door. She froze when she saw the cast-iron gargoyle knocker. “This seems like the kind of place that would have a drawbridge and fire-breathing dragons.”

“Wait until you see the inside.”

A deeply tanned butler wrapped in a full-length brown fur coat was positioned outside in the cold, welcoming guests to the Rivera home.

“Names, please,” he said to a stack of papers on his clipboard.

“Hey, Alvie.” Massie pushed past him.

“Oh, hello, Miss Block.” He lifted his head. “And this is?”

“Claire Lyons. She’s with me.”

“Very well.” Alvie lowered his clipboard. He extended his white-gloved hand toward the brass knob and pushed the door open, giving way to what looked like the inside of a Manhattan art gallery. “Coat check is beside the restrooms.” He eyed the red distressed-leather sack Massie was dragging across the floor.

“Thanks, Al.”

A thin neat man with slicked-back gray hair hurried toward Massie, pinching a white plastic tag between his thumb and index finger.

“I’ll take that for you,” he insisted.

And just like that, her bag was gone.

The Riveras always had their parties in the front foyer because it was the only space on the estate that wasn’t packed with expensive antique furniture. But the room was hardly empty.

The ceilings were so high, Massie had to tilt her head all the way back if she wanted to admire the colorful stained-glass dome ceiling. Enormous walls peppered with hundreds of oil paintings in ornate gold frames never failed to impress parents, but Massie preferred the collection of freaky Oriental masks mounted between them. No matter where she moved, their hollow eyes seemed to follow her.

A pack of young kids were chasing each other up and down the long spiral staircase that punctured the center of the room. The shape reminded Massie of a giant version of the corkscrew that Franco, the waiter at the club, used to open her father’s wine. The brass banister was wrapped in red and yellow streamers, probably meant to represent the Spanish flag, and a banner that spelled out CUMPLIMENTAR, NINA in silver glitter hung off of it.

Waitresses were offering guests silver trays filled with tapas while waiters doled out alcohol-free sangria. Hundreds of orange candles filled the room with a warm glow, their flames flickering to the beat of wild flamenco music.

“How come you never had a welcome party for me?” Claire asked Massie. She slipped off her baby blue ski jacket and handed it to a teenager dressed in a black-and-white maid’s outfit.

“Because you weren’t welcome.” Massie smiled.

Claire gave Massie a playful shove.

“Watch the outfit.” Massie adjusted the white faux-fur shrug that was tied around her shoulders and made sure her black cat rhinestone brooch was still positioned just below her neckline. “This is the first time I’m seeing Derrington in weeks. I have to be a ten.”

“You are,” Claire gushed. “That green satin dress looks ah-mazing on you.”

“It’s chiffon.” Massie checked for wrinkles that might have formed in the car. “Do you like my hair crimped? Or does it look like I got my head stuck in an accordion?”

“I told you, I love it.” Claire ran her fingers over the jagged chunks of hair that zigzagged around Massie’s face. “You’re going to start a new trend tonight, I can smell it.” She sniffed the air.

Massie giggled.

Before their trip to Aspen, Massie never would have shown Claire her insecure side. But these days, they spent more time together than real sisters, and it was exhausting trying to act confident 24/7. Besides, Massie knew Claire wasn’t the type to hold it against her.

“Do you think Derrington is going to like it?” Massie whispered as they inched their way into the crowd of seventh graders and parents.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Claire was pointing to the bottom of the staircase. “There they are.” She grabbed Massie’s arm and started pulling her toward the tight cluster of Briarwood boys that were hovering over Derrington and his silver Game Boy.

He was sitting on the third step of the corkscrew staircase, surrounded by his soccer buddies, Cam Fisher, Chris Plovert, and some preppy new kid Massie had never seen before. His elbows were resting on his bare kneecaps, but his thumbs and wrists were working overtime. Derrington was so involved in the game, he had to use his shoulder to brush the floppy blond strands away from his eyes. His outfit was the same as usual—cargo shorts and hiking boots. The only difference was the gray blazer and black tie he wore over his T-shirt. Overall, he looked even cuter than he had before break, like he had been exfoliated and spit-shined.

Suddenly, Massie felt weak and tingly, like all the cells in her body had turned into Diet Coke bubbles and were trapped just below the surface of her skin.

“Stop tugging on me.” She pulled her arm away from Claire and placed it firmly on her hip.

“What’s wrong?” Claire asked. The confident smile on her face seemed to mock Massie and her paralyzing fear. “Don’t you want to say hi?”

Of course that was what Massie wanted more than anything. She had been waiting three gruelingly long weeks to see Derrington again. But now was not the time. She was totally unprepared. What would she say to him, especially with all of his friends around? And more importantly, what was her hair doing?

“Be cool, Kuh-laire,” Massie whispered. “When it comes to boys, it’s better to act curious, not interested.” She instantly regretted wearing chiffon. When there was sweat on her body, chiffon always found it.

“But Cam already knows I’m interested. And Derrington knows you like him. You e-mail each other all the time.”

Massie shifted her shrug to make sure it covered the pit stains that were forming under her arms.

“That was last year.” Massie rubbed her newest Glossip Girl flavor across her lips. “It’s a new year now, and they may have found other girls.”

“Who’s eating a sugar doughnut?” Dylan asked as she forced herself between Claire and Massie.

The three girls squealed when they saw each other. Dylan held out her arms in preparation for a giant hug. But Massie stood tall and stayed stiff, her hands pressed against her thighs. If anyone saw her sweaty pits, she’d have to transfer schools. Dylan must have sensed Massie’s hesitation, because she turned and hugged Claire instead.

When she released Claire, Dylan leaned in and sniffed Massie’s face. “Are those your lips I smell?”

“It’s my new gloss.” Massie took the shiny mirrored tube out of her clutch and waved it in front of Dylan. “It’s called Krispy Kreme. It arrived yesterday.”

“It’s strong.” Dylan tucked a bright red curl behind her ear. “I can actually smell it through my stuffed-up nose.” She coughed.

“Ew, cover your mouth.” Massie laughed and fanned the air.

“Admit it.” Dylan took a step back. “You’re just embarrassed to be seen with me because I’m fat.”

“Fat?” Claire gasped. “We’re, like, the exact same size.”

“I wish.” Dylan inspected Claire’s small round butt.

“Dylan, are you full of garbage?” Massie asked.

Dylan tugged on her dark green silk caftan. “No.”

“Then why are you acting like a Hefty?”

Claire threw her head back and laughed louder than she needed to. Massie crinkled her eyebrows. She knew her joke was clever, but she didn’t think it was LOL-worthy.

Massie shot Claire a What’s-so-funny? look. But Claire was too busy slapping her thigh and peeking at Cam out of the corner of her eye to notice.

“Brilliant!” Massie was instantly impressed by Claire’s I’m-gonna-show-Cam-how-much-fun-I-am strategy and joined in the laughter. Derrington pushed his shaggy blond hair away from his eyes and looked straight at them. Mission accomplished. Claire seemed to know more about attracting boys than J.Lo.

“Are you two laughing at me?” Dylan sniffled. “Weight problems are not something to make light of.”

“Literally.” Massie and Claire broke into another fit of exaggerated laughter.

“What’s so funny?” They were too busy fake-laughing to notice someone had joined their circle.

Massie was just about to tell the strange boy in the black fedora to mind his own business when she heard his phlegmy laugh. He was Kristen.

Massie slapped her hand against her heart. “Ehmagod.”

“I know,” Kristen groaned.

“Lemme see.” Massie lifted the fedora. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.” But Kristen slapped her hand away.

“Ouch,” Massie snapped.

Dylan giggled into her palm, and Claire exploded into another fit of hysterical laughter.

“It’s not funny, okay?” Kristen whined. “I look like a yob!”

Dylan and Claire looked at each other in utter confusion.

“Boy,” Massie mouthed to them.

“Oh,” they mouthed back.

“I had to steal this hat from my grandfather,” Kristen confessed. “He spent twenty minutes looking for it after dinner last night, and now my grandmother is making him go to the doctor because she’s convinced he’s losing his mind.”

“What about that lace dress?” Massie asked. “Did you steal it from your grandmother?”

“No.” Kristen stomped her foot. “I’m just trying to look like a girl.”

“Well, I brought the hats you asked for,” Massie assured her. “They’re in coat check.”

“Thanks.” Kristen’s hardened expression softened.

Massie caught a whiff of Angel perfume and whipped her head around.

“I thought I smelled you.” She turned toward Alicia.

The raven-haired beauty was standing just outside their tight cluster, holding a silver tray covered in name tags and markers. The chunky turquoise necklace around her neck and her cream-colored satin dress popped against her deep tan.

“You look ah-mazing,” Dylan gushed.

“I love your hair. It’s so gnol.”

“Long,” Massie translated.

“You think?” Alicia widened her dark brown eyes and ran her manicured fingers through the top of her shiny blowout. Her hair seemed to sway back and forth in slow motion before it settled back in position, and Massie felt like she was watching a Pantene commercial. If only Alicia would get a zit or braces or something, she’d be a little easier to look at. As it stood, her face was so perfect, it hurt to focus on it for more than a few seconds at a time. It was like looking straight into one of the UV bulbs at Sun of a Beach tanning salon.

“Did you lose weight?” Dylan asked.

“No.” Alicia looked at her stomach to double-check. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe your boobs got bigger,” Dylan suggested.

Alicia lifted the tray so it covered her chest. “Ew, Gawd forbid.”

Massie tugged on her crimped hair, wishing she hadn’t picked the first party of the year to experiment. Not that anyone was even noticing.

“Where’s Olivia?” Claire asked.

“She has mono.” Alicia looked down at the markers on her tray.

“Boob job,” Massie coughed.

Everyone laughed except Alicia. She rolled her eyes, raised her tiny nose toward the stained-glass ceiling, and kept it there until the laughter died. Massie still couldn’t understand why her best friend liked Faux-livia so much, but she knew better than to ask. Ever since Alicia had tried to start her own clique, Massie had been extra careful not to do anything that might push her away again. She couldn’t stand the thought of wasting another semester fighting with her friends, especially when there were so many losers to pick on.

“Have you guys seen the new Briarwood boy yet?” Alicia whispered. “He is ah-dorable.”

“Am I a vampire?” Massie asked.

“Huh?” Alicia asked.

“Then why are you keeping me in the dark?” Massie asked. “Details, please.”

“His name is Josh Hotz. He’s a ‘transfer student’ from Hotchkiss.” Alicia made air quotes when she said “transfer student.” She leaned in closer and continued. “But I heard he got expelled for pulling the fire alarm before a major test.”

A dark-haired boy in a New York Yankees hat and a navy blue blazer pushed his way through the crowd, carrying a ginger ale with a cherry floating on the top and a shrimp kebab.

“Stop, drop, and roll. He’s on the move.” Alicia handed her silver tray to Dylan and turned to leave. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Where are you going?” Dylan squealed. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“They’re name tags,” Alicia called over her shoulder. “Get everyone to fill them out before Nina makes her entrance.”

Massie watched Alicia follow Josh through the crowd, wishing she had the guts to approach Derrington.

Dylan started filling out the HOLA, MY NAME IS ____ stickers for her friends and stuck them to their clothes. She was about to put one on Claire’s pink silk cami when Massie grabbed her wrist.

“Don’t,” Massie said. “I don’t want you to get glue on my new top.”

“I had a feeling she was wearing a Massie.” Dylan nodded. “No offense, Claire, but I had a hard time imagining you buying a Trina Turk. I actually assumed it was an H&M knockoff.”

“Massie said I could borrow it.” Claire didn’t sound the least bit offended.

Kristen put her hands on her hips and turned to face Massie. “I thought you said anything that needs to be washed in Woolite is OL.”

“What’s ‘OL’?” Claire asked.

“It means off limits,” Kristen barked. “But I guess you wouldn’t know, since it ahb-viously doesn’t apply to you.”

“And isn’t that your handbag?” Dylan pointed at the pink metallic YSL ruffle purse dangling from Claire’s wrist.

“Yeah,” Massie said to her silver-polished thumbnail. “So?”

“So? So you said you don’t lend out anything from this year’s YSL line,” Dylan snapped.

“Well, it’s a new year.” Massie looked directly into Dylan’s emerald green eyes, making it clear that the conversation was over. She realized this probably wasn’t the best time to tell her friends that Claire would be sharing her bedroom. They were acting a little jealous, and she didn’t want to rub it in their faces. Besides, they’d have to get used to their friendship . . . eventually.

“Seafood egg rolls?” a waitress asked as she held a tray of fried appetizers in front of the girls.

“How about we trade?” Dylan took the platter and handed the name tags to the waitress. “Please make sure everyone gets one.” She turned her back toward the girl and popped an egg roll in her mouth. “Anyone else want?” Dylan asked while she chewed.

“Sure.” Claire reached forward and dunked an egg roll in the plum sauce dish. As she brought it to her mouth, a glob of brown sauce fell on Massie’s silk cami.

“Thank Gawd for Woolite.” Kristen smirked.

“I am so sorry.” Claire’s cheeks turned red and her bright blue eyes suddenly looked navy. “I’ll save up my allowance and buy you another one. I promise.” She grabbed a handful of gold cocktail napkins off the tray and started wiping the brown stain right above her left boob.

“It’s okay.” Massie’s heart was pounding so quickly, she imagined it bursting out of her chest and beating against Claire until she was facedown on the ground begging for mercy. “I’ll get some seltzer. . . .”

“Try this.” A mysterious hand entered their circle. It was waving a bag of red cinnamon hearts in one hand and a wet white napkin in the other.

“Cam!” A big smile warmed Claire’s face.

Massie caught a whiff of the familiar mix of Drakkar Noir and grape Big League Chew that was Cam Fisher. As usual, he was wearing his brother’s old leather jacket, but tonight, instead of a tattered white tee underneath, Cam was wearing his Briarwood Tomahawks soccer jersey. He held out a tumbler-sized glass of water for Claire while she dipped the napkin and dabbed the stain.

“Hey,” Derrington mumbled, “I heard there was a wet T-shirt contest going on over here.” His caramel brown eyes flickered with mischief.

Massie felt her cheeks burn and faced Claire to avoid Derrington’s gaze. But the instant he turned toward his perma-tanned friend Chris Plovert, who for some reason was on crutches, Massie checked him out.

Derrington looked good. His hair was perfectly grown out. Two more weeks and he’d need a trim, but right now his dirty blond strands sat right on top of his dark lashes in a very sloppy-chic sort of way. Unfortunately, he still hadn’t gotten over the whole shorts-in-the-winter thing, but his knees didn’t look as knobby as they had before the holidays. He must have put on muscle at skate camp. And as far as Massie could tell, they were still the exact same height.

“Well, aren’t you going to ask me about skate camp?” he asked Massie.

She twirled the diamond stud in her ear and cocked her head to the side. Massie thought she looked much better at an angle than she did head-on.

“Actually, I was going to ask you why you guys are wearing soccer jerseys to a black-tie-optional party. But if you’d rather start with skate camp, that’s fine.”

Derrington lowered his head and smiled at his shirt. He looked up at Massie as though he were peering out over the tops of a pair of sunglasses. “It’s for good luck. Kind of an old superstition. All we have to do is beat Grayson Academy next week and we’re in the finals, which would be so cool, because for the last ten years . . .”

Massie had no idea what Derrington was talking about. Nor did she care. But she nodded her head and squinted, so he’d think she was absolutely riveted. But all she could think about was the puddle of sweat that was forming above her lip. Was it rude to apply a fresh coat of gloss while someone was talking to her? Would he think she was gross if she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand? Was it grosser to let the sweat just sit there? Ugh! Life was so much easier when she was crush-free.

“And we’re gonna win.” Derrington jumped and turned at the same time, so his butt was facing the inside of their circle. Then he shook it and slapped it a few times. Chris, Cam, Claire, Kristen, and Dylan all cracked up. Massie rolled her eyes and playfully pushed him out of the circle. “Grow up.”

“Oh, please. You love my butt,” Derrington teased.

“Yeah, right.” Massie instantly hated herself for not coming up with a better comeback. Why did the battery in her brain always seem to die when Derrington was around?

“I hope you’ll be there on Friday cheering us on. You can be my good luck charm.” Derrington grinned.

Massie instantly tuned back into the conversation. “Of course I’ll be there. I love soccer.”

“Good.” Derrington’s smile was so sincere, Massie couldn’t help smiling too. The twinkle in his light brown eyes made her feel fairly confident that he hadn’t met another girl at skate camp. But just to make sure . . .

“Was your skate camp co-ed?” she asked. “Kristen was thinking of going next year, but I told her I thought it was boys only, right, Kristen?”

Massie widened her amber eyes so Kristen would know to play along.

“Uh, right.” Kristen adjusted her fedora. It was obvious to Massie she had no idea what she was agreeing to.

“Sorry, it’s boys only,” Derrington said. “But Kristen, if you wear that hat, they might let you in.”

“Very funny.” She rolled her eyes. “By the way, you suck as goalie this year. Maybe you should spend a little less time skating and a little more time practicing.”

Plovert and Cam laughed at Kristen’s jab. Massie joined them, even though she had no idea what goalies had to do in order to “suck.”

“What are you laughing at, Plovert?” Derrington shook his head. “You broke your ankle the minute we got there.”

“Yeah, and I bet I’m still better in the net than you are.”

Everyone laughed except Massie. She hoped they were only joking. It was one thing to be associated with a guy who wore shorts in January if he was a star athlete. But if he really did suck, everyone would think he was a loser. And that would make her an even bigger loser for hanging out with him. Massie closed her eyes and said a quick prayer for the Tomahawks. It was crucial for her reputation that they win Friday’s game.

“Please, no one is better than this guy.” Todd pushed his way into their circle and put his arm around Derrington.

“Todd, what are you doing?” Claire asked. It was obvious from her tone that she wanted him to leave.

“I thought I’d come and say hi to my new roomie.” Todd released Derrington and winked at Massie. His little friend, Tiny Nathan, covered his mouth with his miniature hand and giggled. “Now that we live together, I feel like it’s my duty to keep an eye on you.”

“What is he tawking about?” Kristen asked Massie. “Why is he your new roomie?”

“You live together?” Derrington asked. Unfortunately, he didn’t sound jealous, just surprised.

Massie wanted to shove the heels of her Jimmy Choo slides up Todd’s freckly nose. This was worse than the time she’d caught him eavesdropping on her sleepover. The last thing she wanted to do at this party was fight with her jealous friends about their new living situation.

“Didn’t you hear?” Todd asked Kristen. “We’re living—”

“Yes, Todd, everyone knows you live in our guesthouse. And in a minute, they are all going to know that you talk to your—”

“Let’s go, Nathan.” Todd grabbed his friend’s skinny wrist and pulled him into the crowd. “I’ve got a thing for that hottie over by the vegetable platters.”

Massie was doing her best to avoid Claire’s eyes, knowing she was probably wondering why their living situation had to remain a secret.

“Can I have your attention, please?” Alicia’s mother, Nadia, shouted from the top of the staircase. Massie breathed a sigh of relief when Claire turned away to listen to the announcement. Crisis averted.

Nadia was wearing a dark brown strapless paisley dress and a ridiculously huge necklace made of peacock feathers. Her black hair was wrapped in a tight bun on top of her head and tied with a gold scarf. Even though she hadn’t modeled in fifteen years, Nadia looked like she could have walked straight off the runway and into her house. Once again, she asked for attention. Finally, the music stopped and the chatter in the room was reduced to a loud murmur, then silence.

“My husband, Len, and I would like to welcome you all to our home.” Her Spanish accent was thick, and Massie had to strain to understand what she was saying. “You know we are always looking for an excuse to get together with friends.” A few of the parents started cheering, and Nadia responded with a gracious smile. “And tonight’s excuse is a very beautiful one named Nina.”

Applause.

Massie searched the room, looking for the guest of honor, but there were no signs of her yet. Nadia was probably trying to build her up because she was such a dork.

“My niece has come all the way from Spain to spend the semester with us. So please raise your glasses and help me welcome Nina Callas to Westchester.

“Cumplimentar, Nina!” Nadia toasted.

“Cumplimentar, Nina!” the guests toasted back.

A tall, thin girl came out of one of the bedrooms and glided to the top of the stairs. She stood perfectly still, giving the guests a chance to drink her in. She tilted her hips, stuck out her long, thin left leg and let her tanned bare arms dangle by her tiny waist.

There had to be some kind of mistake! This couldn’t have been the same busted-up girl Massie had seen in Alicia’s vacation photos. Could it? Her black strapless minidress barely covered the label on her underwear. And unfortunately, it looked kind of hot.

“Easy, Gisele,” Dylan muttered to no one in particular. “The Victoria’s Secret fashion show isn’t until November.”

Massie laughed louder than she meant to.

“Mee-oww!” Chris Plovert gave a playful smile.

“Yeah, right.” Dylan shook her head. “Like I’d ever be jealous of her. Her boots aren’t even made of real leather.”

Nina tilted her long, graceful neck toward the crowd to show off her wide smile and perfectly symmetrical face. A sexy mess of brown wavy hair brushed against her smooth bare back as she turned to show off her perfect profile. She flashed a toothy Julia Roberts smile, then wrapped her elegant fingers around the banister and stepped down onto the marble steps. The bottoms of her high-heeled metallic blue ankle boots sounded like tap shoes as she gracefully made her way toward the main floor. Whistles and whoops filled the air. The people loved her.

Once Nina was finally on the ground floor, she was surrounded by overfriendly admirers doling out handshakes and hugs.

“Gorgeous boots,” one of the mothers gushed.

Massie squeezed her eyes shut. She hoped that when she opened them, she’d see the same gawky girl in Alicia’s holiday pictures; the one with the unibrow, who wore oversized tie-dyed tank tops and thick white hair bands. But a sultry Spanish beauty with perfect hair had taken her place.

“What’s with the hooker boots?” Claire whispered in Massie’s ear.

“She’s so hyrats.” Kristen paused to give her friends a chance to crack her latest jumble. “Trashy!”

“Food court!” Massie sneezed.

“I like her outfit,” Chris Plovert said with a devious smirk.

“Me too.” Derrington nodded

Claire glared at Cam.

“Not me.” Cam did his best to sound convincing.

Claire smiled.

“Puh-lease.” Massie rolled her eyes. “She has no style.”

“Her chest makes Alicia’s look like a back,” Dylan mumbled.

The boys high-fived each other.

“Shhh,” Claire shushed. “Here she comes.”

Nina glided toward them, never taking her eyes off the boys. Chris Plovert gasped and then punched Derrington in the arm. Derrington giggled and punched Chris back. As Nina got closer, they both punched Cam. By the time she arrived, Nina was faced with three giddy boys and four scowling girls. But before she could say hello, she was pulled away by Alicia’s dad, who just had to introduce her to Mr. and Mrs. Everhart from down the street.

“Hey, everyone,” Alicia announced when she rejoined the group. “This is Josh Hotz. He’s new at Briarwood.” She was swaying back and forth, twirling the ruby-and-gold ring on her index finger.

“We know Josh,” Derrington mumbled. “He’s on our soccer team.”

“Well, we don’t know him.” Massie extended her arm. He was the perfect match for Alicia. They looked exactly the same. “Hi, I’m Massie Block.”

“Hey, Massie Block.” Josh smiled eagerly.

The brim on his New York Yankees hat cast a dark shadow across his chiseled face, but from what Massie could see, he looked like Josh Hartnett, only scrawnier. He was a solid eight. “The chicks in this town are awesome,” Josh said after he met Kristen, Dylan, and Claire. His lips were dark red and wet, but not in a gross way. It sort of looked like he was wearing a new line of gloss for men.

“Thanks.” Massie pulled on a chunk of her crimped hair. She smiled sweetly and turned to face Josh, hoping her flirty expression would make Derrington jealous. But Josh was staring straight at Nina.

“Uh, let’s go meet some other people in my class.” Alicia yanked Josh by the sleeve of his blue blazer.

“Will they look like her?” he was still looking back at Nina.

Derrington, Cam, and Plovert cracked up. Alicia rolled her eyes and gave his arm one final tug.

“He’s a cool guy.” Cam was still smiling.

None of the girls responded. Kristen adjusted her fedora, Dylan sucked in her stomach, Claire tucked her overgrown bangs behind her ear, and Massie applied a fresh coat of Krispy Kreme gloss. She cringed when she heard Nina’s ah-nnoying har-har-har laugh and watched in horror as the tops of her massive boobs jiggled, right there in front of the Everharts.

Massie ran her fingers over the emerald green eyes in her cat brooch, wondering how to keep Nina away from the guys. But when she heard Derrington, Cam, and Chris whispering about “Alicia’s cousin’s epic cleavage,” Massie realized the real problem would be keeping the guys away from Nina.

After the party, Massie rushed home and turned on her G5. It was crucial that her first blog go live before the start of the new semester.

 

MASSIE BLOCK’S CURRENT STATE OF THE UNION BLOG
IN		OUT
Blogs		Boots
Metallic		Blue only
Crimped hair		Cleavage
Gift exchanges		Foreign exchanges