Revenge Of The Wannabes Part 26

"Well, I heard it was pee."

"I heard that too," said Kori.

"Sorry, no points," Alicia said.

Faux crossed her arms over her chest and pretended to sulk.

While they were arguing, Claire saw Kristen and Dylan text messaging. She knew exactly who they were speaking to and what they were saying.

"I can't believe we left without her," Claire heard Kristen whisper to Dylan.

Dylan squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. She felt terrible about it.

Their thumbs moved at high speeds as they sent messages to Ma.s.sie. Claire watched them bite their nails and exchange worried glances while they waited to see if Ma.s.sie could ever forgive them. Suddenly they both smiled and sighed. They were back IN.

"Yes!" Dylan said softly. She reached for the bag of pretzels and dug in. "She's on her way into the city."

Claire mouthed, "How?"

"Harris," Dylan mouthed back.

"Who else?" Claire asked.

Dylan shrugged.

Claire felt her stomach drop. Was Cam there too?

Kristen and Dylan looked relieved when they slipped their cell phones back into their bags. They sat up in their seats and touched up their lip gloss. They finally seemed excited for the weekend to get started. And Claire couldn't wait for it to end.

SUs.h.i.+ S SAMBA 7 7TH A AVENUE, NEW Y YORK C CITY.

6:37 PM PM.

December 5th Ma.s.sie 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 Ma.s.sie 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 Sus.h.i.+ Samba's lanky hostesses to show them to their table.

"I told you." Ma.s.sie 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?" Ma.s.sie dabbed her mouth on a book of matches she grabbed off the tall oak hostess stand and put them back in the stack.

"Very s.e.xy." Derrington giggled. Ma.s.sie 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.

Ma.s.sie 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 fas.h.i.+on editor for Teen Vogue." Teen Vogue." Ma.s.sie watched to see if the hostess's face lit up when she heard that a real fas.h.i.+on editor was there. But it didn't. She still looked bored and hungry. Ma.s.sie watched to see if the hostess's face lit up when she heard that a real fas.h.i.+on 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 sn.o.bby tone.

Ma.s.sie swung her black Barneys shopping bag into his knee.

"Ouch," Harris said playfully. "What's in there?"

"Don't worry about it." Ma.s.sie hit him again.

"Don't hit my brother." Cam slapped Ma.s.sie's b.u.t.t.

Ma.s.sie 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.

Ma.s.sie, Cam, Harris, and Derrington giggled as she led them through a thick crowd of glamorous people drinking colorful c.o.c.ktails at the bar and shouting over the loud samba music. Ma.s.sie 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 Ma.s.sie 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 sus.h.i.+ 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 b.o.o.bs.

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 Ma.s.sie 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 Ma.s.sie 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, Ma.s.sie 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 Ma.s.sie 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.

Ma.s.sie made a mental note to consider Sus.h.i.+ Samba for her sweet sixteen party.

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

"Heyyy," Ma.s.sie 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 Ma.s.sie," 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 Ma.s.sie's eyes.

"You must be Lucinda," Ma.s.sie 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. Ma.s.sie noticed he had an August tan in December and a.s.sumed he had just returned from some exotic beach location. His shark tooth necklaces and the unruly stubble on his face were dead giveaways. Ma.s.sie 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," Ma.s.sie 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. Ma.s.sie sighed as she sat down, wis.h.i.+ng 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. Ma.s.sie 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.

"Ma.s.sie, I never knew," Derrington said when he felt her arm on the back of his chair.

"Puh-lease," Ma.s.sie 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 G.o.d, that's worth like a thousand gossip points," Strawberry said.

"More like a million," Kori said, clapping.

"It's not worth anything," anything," Dylan announced. "That rumor is not true." Dylan announced. "That rumor is not true."

"'Scuse me?" Lucinda's mouth hung open and her eyes bulged.

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

"You're challenging challenging me?" me?" Lucinda said. 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 c.o.c.ked 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 you know?" Lucinda squinted suspiciously. 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."

Ma.s.sie 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," Ma.s.sie 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?" Ma.s.sie asked Paolo. She was pointing at Strawberry and Kori. "They aren't even modeling tomorrow."

"Whoops," Paolo said, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g on his lens cap.

Ma.s.sie 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?" Ma.s.sie asked.

"Headache," Claire said without looking up.

"Oh." Ma.s.sie wanted desperately to ask Claire why she'd been ignoring her lately but decided to wait until her headache was gone.

Ma.s.sie 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." Ma.s.sie 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," Ma.s.sie 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. Ma.s.sie threw her head back and cackled. Alicia watched her, probably wondering what Derrington had said to make Ma.s.sie 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 Ma.s.sie head-on. "What would you rather wear?"