SUSHI SAMBA 7TH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY

6:37 PM
December 5th

Massie felt her frozen cheeks begin to thaw the minute she stepped into the crowded restaurant. She had cursed the broken heater in Harris’s Mustang almost as many times as she’d cursed his earsplitting boy music. But from what Kristen and Dylan said, it was still better than being in Alicia’s limo, although Massie wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Are you sure it’s okay if we crash your big models-only dinner?” Derrington was bouncing up and down, trying to get the circulation back in his bare legs. They were waiting for one of Sushi Samba’s lanky hostesses to show them to their table.

“I told you.” Massie dragged a tube of light pink gloss across her lips. “Lucinda said it was okay because Harris drove me here.”

“But what about us tagalongs?” Cam put his arm around Derrington.

“I took care of it, okay?” Massie dabbed her mouth on a book of matches she grabbed off the tall oak hostess stand and put them back in the stack.

“Very sexy.” Derrington giggled. Massie laughed too.

A beautiful Asian woman with a blond afro held a stack of menus under her arm like a Fendi clutch. “May I help you?” she asked Derrington’s purple knees.

Massie stepped forward, blocking Derrington and his baggy blue shorts from the hostess’s view. “Yes, I’m here to meet Lucinda Hill. She’s a fashion editor for Teen Vogue.” Massie watched to see if the hostess’s face lit up when she heard that a real fashion editor was there. But it didn’t. She still looked bored and hungry.

“Ms. Hill has been seated on the roof,” the exotic hostess said.

“Of course she has,” Harris said, mocking her snobby tone.

Massie swung her black Barneys shopping bag into his knee.

“Ouch,” Harris said playfully. “What’s in there?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Massie hit him again.

“Don’t hit my brother.” Cam slapped Massie’s butt.

Massie laughed, then made a fist. She was winding up for a punch when the hostess grabbed her arm.

“You KIDS can follow me,” she said.

Massie, Cam, Harris, and Derrington giggled as she led them through a thick crowd of glamorous people drinking colorful cocktails at the bar and shouting over the loud samba music. Massie thought everyone looked like models, even the men. And she hoped they could tell that she was a model too.

“I think I’m overdressed,” Derrington said.

Cam, Harris, and Massie busted out laughing.

Waitresses dressed in silver microminis, white-fur-trimmed wife beaters, and Santa hats scurried from table to table balancing wood trays of elaborately decorated sushi rolls on their frail palms. Derrington pushed Cam into a blond, big-chested waitress, but Cam managed to catch his balance before he went slamming into her boobs.

The two boys burst into a fit of hysteria.

The hostess rolled her eyes and pointed to a spiral staircase that had been sprinkled with small metallic snowflakes. Red and green tinsel hung off the banister and made Massie think of fake eyelashes.

“Your party is up there. I’m sure you’ll find them,” the hostess said.

Then in a flash she was gone.

The closer Massie got to the top, the quicker she moved. She couldn’t wait to see Kristen, Dylan, and Claire now that they were friends again.

When she stepped onto the roof, Massie gasped. It was covered by a puffy white canvas dome that reminded her of the indoor tennis courts at her country club. Flickering light from the candles on the tables reflected off the tented ceiling and made the whole place look like it was surrounded by flames. A Jamaican steel drum band playing a reggae version of “Winter Wonderland” gave Massie the urge to jump up on the nearest table and start dancing. If she hadn’t been wearing her two-inch turquoise platform clogs and a satin navy minidress, she might have.

“This place is awesome,” Harris said when he got to the top.

Massie made a mental note to consider Sushi Samba for her sweet sixteen party.

“Heeeyyy,” shouted two familiar voices. “Over here.” Kristen and Dylan were waving frantically.

“Heyyy,” Massie called. She zigzagged her way through the maze of chairs and tables until she got to the long rectangular booth in the back of the room.

A tall girl wearing a skintight denim pantsuit and a tangle of gold chain belts and necklaces jumped up from her seat and held out her arms. “You must be Massie,” she said, pulling her into a hug. Her big blue eyes added a welcome splash of color to her porcelain white skin. “I heart that I’m finally meeting you.” She looked down at Alicia, who was in the seat beside her and smiled proudly.

“Don’t you just heart that I say heart now?” she asked Alicia.

“I totally heart it,” Alicia said, avoiding Massie’s eyes.

“You must be Lucinda,” Massie said, putting the woman’s attention back on her.

“In the flesh.” She ran her long red fingernails through her short black hair and turned to the tall thin man standing beside her. “This is Paolo, our photographer,” Lucinda said, lifting her arm and resting it on his shoulder. Massie noticed he had an August tan in December and assumed he had just returned from some exotic beach location. His shark tooth necklaces and the unruly stubble on his face were dead giveaways. Massie lifted her hand and tilted her head slightly to the right so he could see her best side.

“’Allo, Mahzzie,” he said, sounding French or Italian or something.

“Hey,” Massie said. Then she quickly turned her attention to the table, afraid she was about to get stuck with a bad seat. Cam and Harris sat on the loser side of the table, near Alicia and the EWs, and Derrington had taken the empty seat beside Kristen. There was only one left—between him and Claire. Massie sighed as she sat down, wishing she were closer to Kristen and Dylan. She kicked her big Barneys bag under the table and put the brown cloth napkin on her lap. A waiter immediately swooped in and placed four bowls of edamame on the table. Paolo snapped a picture of everyone reaching for them at once.

“Finish your story about the secret celebrity couple,” Alicia urged Lucinda.

“Right,” Lucinda said, sliding the peas into her mouth, then tossing the empty green pod in a bowl. Massie noticed that the pod was covered in her red lipstick and reached behind her chair, hoping to tap Kristen on the shoulder and show her.

“Massie, I never knew,” Derrington said when he felt her arm on the back of his chair.

“Puh-lease,” Massie said, feeling herself blush.

“So my sources tell me”—Lucinda leaned in to the table and said in a hushed tone—“this actress is only dating him to help her brother get a part in his next movie.”

“Oh my God, that’s worth like a thousand gossip points,” Strawberry said.

“More like a million,” Kori said, clapping.

“It’s not worth anything,” Dylan announced. “That rumor is not true.”

“’Scuse me?” Lucinda’s mouth hung open and her eyes bulged.

Massie leaned forward in her chair and tapped her chopsticks on the table. She loved that Dylan knew everything about celebrity gossip.

“You’re challenging me?” Lucinda said.

“I’m not challenging you; I’m correcting you,” Dylan said. Kristen let out a phlegmy laugh. Lucinda flared her nostrils.

Dylan turned to face the camera to let Paolo know he should get a shot of her. He clicked away.

“She isn’t dating him so her brother can get a part in his movie. They’ve been married for two years. In fact, they’re about to have a baby. They just don’t like the press, so they keep their personal lives a secret.” Dylan cocked her head and took a sip of her virgin cosmopolitan. “But there’s no way you could have ever known that, so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“And how would you know?” Lucinda squinted suspiciously.

“My mom told me.”

“And who’s your—”

“Merri-Lee Marvil,” everyone said at once.

“Ah.” Lucinda looked down and opened her menu.

“Don’t worry, Luce,” Alicia said, touching Lucinda’s shoulder. “It’s probably a fake item.”

Massie felt her pulse quicken. She widened her amber eyes and placed both of her palms on the table. “You should know!” She didn’t care if the entire restaurant heard her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alicia yelled from the other end of the table.

Paolo swiveled his head back and forth, snapping pictures as though he were shooting a tennis match at Wimbledon.

“It means it takes a fake to know a fake,” Massie hissed. “Those wannabe Louis scarves you’ve been giving out should be illegal. I wouldn’t be surprised if you all have rashes around your necks when you take those things off tonight. And what about those two?” She pointed to Kori and Strawberry. “They’re total knockoff versions of K & D.”

Kristen and Dylan smiled with deep satisfaction and sat up a little taller in their seats.

“Now that I think of it, you do look like Dylan and Kristen,” Harris said to the wannabes.

“Totally,” Cam agreed.

“Thanks,” Kori said sweetly.

“Yeah, thanks.” Strawberry beamed.

Paolo quickly changed his roll of film. Lucinda was scribbling notes on her cloth napkin and saying things like, “Oh this is good,” to herself.

“Why are you taking their pictures?” Massie asked Paolo. She was pointing at Strawberry and Kori. “They aren’t even modeling tomorrow.”

“Whoops,” Paolo said, screwing on his lens cap.

Massie looked at Claire, hoping to find her laughing at the chaotic scene. But Claire seemed oblivious as she slapped her bowl of rice with a piece of edamame.

“What’s wrong?” Massie asked.

“Headache,” Claire said without looking up.

“Oh.” Massie wanted desperately to ask Claire why she’d been ignoring her lately but decided to wait until her headache was gone.

Massie was forced to turn her attention to Derrington.

“So what’s with the shorts?” she asked the second he popped a spicy tuna roll in his mouth. “It’s the middle of winter.”

Derrington held up his hand to let her know he’d answer her when he was done chewing. He made a big show of swallowing and then opened his mouth. “All gone.” He laughed.

“Gross.” Massie giggled. She couldn’t help it. He had a boyish look in his brown eyes that actually made him look cute.

“You’re showing just as much leg as I am,” Derrington said.

“Yeah, but I’m wearing tights,” Massie said, though she was somewhat impressed by the grain of truth in his argument.

“Well, then, honey, next time you’re at the mall, you just mussst pick up a pair for me,” Derrington said in a flamboyant voice. Massie threw her head back and cackled. Alicia watched her, probably wondering what Derrington had said to make Massie laugh so hard.

Alicia hooked a piece of hair behind her ear and turned to Lucinda, pretending to be interested in the story she was telling about a rained-out Hilary Duff shoot in Maui.

“Hey.” Derrington spun in his seat and faced Massie head-on. “What would you rather wear?”

Massie clapped, excited that he liked to play her favorite game. “Shorts all winter long or cashmere sweats all summer?”

“You can buy cashmere sweats?” Massie asked. “Why didn’t I know about that?”

“You can’t, I don’t think,” Derrington said. “I just made that up.”

“Phew.” Massie wiped pretend sweat off her forehead. “I thought I was missing out.”

“So?” Derrington said. “What would you rather?”

“Cashmere sweats,” Massie said, popping a piece of ginger in her mouth.

“Ugh, why?”

“Because I’d be the first one to have them,” Massie said with a smug smile.

This time Derrington threw his head back and laughed. When he straightened up, he batted a messy blond curl away from his eyes and said, “You’re awesome.”

Massie felt a rush of tingly, prickly heat on the bottoms of her feet and immediately wanted to ask if he was joking. No other guy had ever complimented Massie like that except her dad, and he didn’t count. She looked around to see if anyone else heard him say that, but they were still caught up in Lucinda’s Hilary Duff story.

“What would you rather?” Massie asked, desperate to move past the awkward moment. “Shorts or cashmere?”

“Uh, isn’t it obvious?” Derrington said, pointing to his shorts.

“Oh yeah, sorry.” She giggled.

Massie could feel her face turning red. She lowered her head under the table and pulled out her Barneys shopping bag.

“I almost forgot,” she said, handing it to Claire. “This is for you.”

“What is it?” Claire asked. She looked annoyed that Massie was interrupting her conversation with Paolo.

“Open it,” Massie said. “Maybe it will get you out of this mood you’ve been in lately.”

“It’s not a ‘mood.’” Claire moved a piece of avocado around on her plate with a chopstick, then stabbed it.

Massie clenched her fists and tried to keep her breathing slow and steady. “Kuh-laire, did you join the circus?”

“No, why?” Claire sounded bored.

“Because you’ve been acting like a TOTAL FREAK.” Massie heard Derrington laugh and bit her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling. “Now, are you going to take this or what?” She stuck her hand inside the Barneys bag and pulled out Claire’s winter coat. The one she’d left at Cam’s.

“Look,” Massie said, rubbing the puffy down jacket against Claire’s hand. “You can stop wearing all of those ridiculous layers now.”

Claire grabbed the coat and buried her own head in it. “There? Is that better?”

“What are you doing?” Massie screeched.

“Rubbing my face in it.” Claire’s voice was muffled. “Just like you wanted.”

Massie laughed out loud, impressed by Claire’s clever comeback.

But Claire was breathing heavily and her entire face was scrunched up like she had just sucked on a lemon.

“What’s your problem?” Massie pleaded. “You’re acting like a ten-year-old.”

And then, as soon as the words had left her mouth, Massie figured it out. Todd! He must have told Claire he heard Massie saying she liked Cam. Or maybe Alicia told her about the time she saw Massie at the Fishers’. …

“You’re not my friend,” Claire whispered. She pushed her chair back from the table and ran to the bathroom.

Massie sat frozen in her chair.

“Can someone please go make sure she’s okay?” Lucinda said. “We have a long day tomorrow and I don’t need her sulking and bringing everyone down.”

“I’ll go,” Alicia and Massie said simultaneously. They paused and looked at each other. At the exact same moment they both jumped out of their seats and raced through the restaurant to the single restroom by the upstairs bar.

Alicia knocked wildly. “Claire, it’s Leesh—let me help you.”

Massie shoved her out of the way. “Claire, it’s Massie. Let me in—we have to talk.”

“Leave me alone,” Claire sobbed. It sounded like she was choking.

“I’m not leaving until you let me in,” Massie said to the door.

“Go flirt with your boyfriend,” Claire shouted.

“Derrington is not my boyfriend,” Massie shouted back.

Alicia gasped and put her hand on her mouth.

“I’m talking about Cam.” Claire sounded frustrated. “I’m not an idiot.”

“I never said you were an id—”

“Massie, I’m so over you!” Claire wailed. “I don’t care if you throw things at me in the halls or if you spread rumors about me or … anything! I’d rather be a complete loser than have you as a friend … you … you boyfriend stealer.” She started crying even harder.

Alicia’s jaw dropped. She had obviously never heard anyone talk to Massie like that before, and the cocky smirk on her face showed that she loved every minute of it.

“Kuh-laire.” Massie pressed her lips right up to the door. “I would never steal your boyfriend. How As the World Turns do you think I am?”

“Alicia told me everything, okay?” Claire said. “She even saw you at his house, so don’t try to lie.”

A line was starting to form outside the bathroom, but Massie did her best to ignore it. “Kuh-laire, I went there to get your coat.”

“Yeah, right!”

Massie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before she continued. “And to tell him that I put you up to the dump,” she said softly.

“Liar,” Claire said flatly.

“I swear on Bean,” Massie said, holding her palm up to the closed door.

“Really?” Claire opened the door slowly. At first she revealed the tip of her nose, then a tear-soaked cheek, and eventually the side of her mouth. “Did you tell him you liked him and that’s why you did it?”

Massie leaned closer to the crack. “Yeah, right!” She rolled her eyes. “I told him that I heard he liked to look up girls’ skirts and that I was looking out for you.”

Massie heard Claire blow her nose and laugh. “And he believed you?”

“Of course,” Massie said.

“Puh-lease, Claire,” Alicia said, pushing up the sleeves of her navy velvet blazer. “Do you really buy that?”

“I believe her,” said an older woman with a neat gray bob and thick black glasses. “Now settle the rest of this on Ricki Lake and let me pee.”

Massie ignored the woman. “Look, if I wanted to steal Cam, I would. Simple as that.”

Claire finally opened the door. She was met with a round of applause from a group of strangers leaning against the wall with their legs crossed tightly. She stepped out of the bathroom and was instantly pushed aside by the woman with the gray bob.

“So does he still like me?” Claire asked Massie.

“Why do you think he’s here?” Massie asked. “I saw him waving to you all night, but you kept looking away.”

“I thought he was waving at you.” Claire sighed. Then her face broke into a slow smile as she processed the news. She giggled with relief.

Massie leaned over the bar and grabbed a stack of cocktail napkins. She handed them to Claire. “Blow.”

Then she held out her arms, hoping for a hug. “Hello? Are you gonna make me stand here like a loser forever?”

Claire sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Maybe.”

“I would,” Alicia said.

But Claire ignored her and hugged Massie.

Alicia made a retching sound and stormed back to the table, trying to look like everything had turned out exactly the way she had wanted it to.

Massie and Claire returned with their arms around each other.

“Where are Cam, Harris, and Derrington?” Claire asked once they sat down.

“Mr. Fisher came to pick them up,” Dylan said. “They’re spending the weekend at his apartment in SoHo.”

“Isn’t our hotel in SoHo?” Claire asked.

“Yes, it is,” Lucinda said while she signed the check. “But there will be no boys tonight. I need my models looking fresh in the morning. Save your flirting for the playground.”

Claire quickly hopped out of her seat. “Look,” she said to Massie, her face glowing. Cam had left a CD on her chair called The Claire Doesn’t Have a Boyfriend in Florida Mix. “How cute is he?”

Claire pinched Massie’s elbow and smiled excitedly. And Massie giggled and pinched back. Only it was the idea of seeing Derrington on Monday that made her happy. That and the fact that she could pinch Claire’s elbow again.