The Pretty Committee Strikes Back Part 17

Her amber eyes were squinty, like she was considering the idea but wasn't completely sold.

"Then," Claire said, as if there were more to her plan, even though there wasn't. "Thennnn ..." She stalled until something came to her. "Then we'll arrange to have the MUCK girls walk in on you and Derrington, so they can see for themselves how wrong they were."

Ma.s.sie's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. A huge smile spread across her face when she finally closed her mouth. "Love it."

Of course she did. Ma.s.sie thought it was pointless to do anything unless an audience was there to witness it. And now that her first kiss could be considered "entertainment," it seemed worth doing.

"Cool." Claire couldn't believe she had given Ma.s.sie good advice twice in one night. It filled her with the confidence she needed to face Cam, possibly for the last time. "Okay." Claire jumped up again. "Let's go find Kristen and her boy clothes."

Ma.s.sie sighed and stood up slowly. "Let's."

"Oh, I almost forgot." Claire took the graham crackers and chocolate out of her pockets and held them out. "I swiped these for you."

Ma.s.sie rubbed her shrinking stomach. "Give them to Kristen. I can't eat." She grabbed the blankets in her arms and shook out her hair. When she straightened back up, the look behind her eyes had changed. She no longer looked like a frightened squirrel. She was queen of the forest again.

Claire followed Ma.s.sie to the front of the cabin, knocking branches and spiderwebs away from her face along the way.

"Ew," Ma.s.sie squealed. "Look." She bent down and lifted a pair of white satin boy shorts off the ground with the end of a stick. "How CSI CSI is this?" is this?"

"Those are mine!" Claire gasped.

"Double ew." Ma.s.sie tossed the panties at Claire.

They flew through the air, straight toward Claire's cheek but she jumped out of the way before they touched her. "I don't mean those are mine mine, mine. I mean those were were mine. I gave Layne and Alicia each a pair exactly like that." mine. I gave Layne and Alicia each a pair exactly like that."

"Well, one of them ditched them back here." Ma.s.sie giggled.

"I have a feeling I know who it was." Claire pinched the Victoria's Secret label on the inside and lifted them off the ground.

"What are you going to do with those?" Ma.s.sie covered her mouth with her hands as if she were about to puke.

"I'm going to remind Layne that tossing underwear in the woods is bad for the environment." Claire held them out in front of her and marched up the porch steps. She kicked open the door of the cabin and headed straight for Layne's bunk. Layne was sitting cross-legged on her Indian blanket, pushing her cuticles back with the bottom of her toothbrush. The minute she saw Claire coming toward her with the underwear, she slid off her bed and raced to the back of the cabin. Claire cornered her by the closets, leaving Ma.s.sie alone out front to face the MUCK girls.

"Layne, you can't just throw underwear in the woods," Claire whisper-yelled. She swung the panties in front of her face. "They're not biodegradable, for starters, and-"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Layne burst into tears. "But what was I supposed to do? Give them back to you like that? that?" She ripped them away from Claire. "Or maybe I should have tossed them in the trash so Ma.s.sie could find them and parade them around the boys' cabin."

"Ma.s.sie would never do that."

Layne rolled her eyes, then wiped her tears with the sleeve of her pink-and-white h.e.l.lo Kitty nightgown.

"She wouldn't!" Claire insisted. She didn't like that Ma.s.sie was getting blamed for this when it had nothing to do with her.

"How do you know?" Layne hissed. "It's not like she's the most honest person in the world."

Suddenly Claire realized she had left Ma.s.sie with the MUCK girls. If Layne felt this much resentment toward her, the others were probably tearing Ma.s.sie's hair out by now.

"Look, I have to go," Claire said. She heard Layne sniffle and softened her tone. Maybe she was being a little too harsh. "Don't worry about the underwear. Just don't leave it outside."

"I'll wash it and give it back to you, I promise," Layne said. "I'll soak it in Lake Placid tomorrow morning before breakfast."

"No." Claire lifted her palm. "Please don't. I don't want them back, really."

"'Kay." Layne sniffed. "Sorry. I just don't want everyone to know I'm the first girl in the grade to get it. it."

"Don't worry, no one will know." Claire hugged Layne, then took off to rescue Ma.s.sie. But from the looks of it, Ma.s.sie didn't need any help.

She was standing by the fireplace with her hands on her hips, glaring down at Carrie, Livvy, and Alexandra, who were perched on a red beanbag like three bluebirds on a rock. Ma.s.sie shook her head slowly, squinted her eyes, and pursed her lips. How did she manage to turn the situation around and blame the MUCK girls? How did she manage to turn the situation around and blame the MUCK girls? Claire stood off to the side and watched while Ma.s.sie worked. Claire stood off to the side and watched while Ma.s.sie worked.

"Well what did you think think he'd say?" She stomped her foot. The white pom-poms on her moccasin boot bounced. "He probably felt betrayed because I told you about our most intimate moments. I'm not surprised he denied it. He was caught off guard and probably a little embarra.s.sed." he'd say?" She stomped her foot. The white pom-poms on her moccasin boot bounced. "He probably felt betrayed because I told you about our most intimate moments. I'm not surprised he denied it. He was caught off guard and probably a little embarra.s.sed."

"Sorry," Livvy squeaked.

"You should be." Ma.s.sie kicked the side of their beanbag for effect.

"And now he won't even talk to me," she pouted.

Claire felt a surge of warmth fill the s.p.a.ces between her ribs. She was in the presence of a true master.

"It just seemed a little weird that he completely denied everything everything," Alexandra said softly.

"Ugh." Ma.s.sie huffed. "I give up." She lowered her head for a second. When she lifted it she looked utterly bored. "No wonder you three are lip virgins. You're way too immature for a relationship."

The thumping sound of Mr. Myner's heavy steel-toed boots against porch steps got everyone's attention. The girls raced to their beds and shimmied under their covers. It was five minutes past lights out.

He knocked once and then barged in before anyone told him it was okay to enter.

"Why do I still hear talking?" He smiled as he spoke, even though he sounded kind of angry. His strong body stayed fixed under the deer head above the door frame, while his head swiveled from side to side, checking to make sure all the girls were accounted for. He wore a big cream-colored fisherman's sweater over a gray long john shirt and a pair of faded Levi's, no jacket or hat. Claire couldn't imagine why a mountain man of his proportions was teaching at a private school in Westchester. Why wasn't he living off the land and modeling on the side?

Mr. Myner's eyes stopped on Olivia. She was hanging over her bunk, whispering to Alicia but staring at Claire. When they noticed him staring, they both flopped back onto their beds. Claire's teeth started chattering. They were so onto her and Josh. She was dead.

Once the whispering stopped, Mr. Myner clasped his hands behind his back and paced across the floor. His boots left faint, muddy prints on the fluffy white sheepskin rugs, but he was too rugged to notice or care about staining the carpets. The girls, however, had been trained by their mothers and housekeepers never to wear boots in the house. And they couldn't help snickering at Mr. Myner's ignorance.

Ma.s.sie kicked the bottom of Dylan's mattress. Dylan casually leaned over and bit her lower lip to prove that she too was having a hard time restraining her laughter. Ma.s.sie sat up like she was doing a crunch and looked at Claire, who was in the bottom bunk beside her. Claire rolled her eyes so Ma.s.sie would know that she understood why they were laughing. Of course, she never would have been clued in if she hadn't lived on the Block estate and spent ample time with Kendra Block.

"Where's Kristen?" Claire mouthed while she had Ma.s.sie's attention.

Ma.s.sie pointed to her mattress.

Claire's mouth fell open. Was Kristen actually under Ma.s.sie's bed? She was about to lean forward and sneak a peek when Mr. Myner's booming voice broke the silence. He seemed so angry, Claire was afraid to move.

"There I was, walking the grounds, securing our site before retiring for the evening." His words sounded like the beginning of another campfire story. "When I noticed a pathetic heap of ice and snow. Funny, Funny, I thought I thought That's exactly where my igloo was." That's exactly where my igloo was." He paused and scanned then-faces for a reaction. But the girls gave him nothing. Claire desperately wanted to look at Ma.s.sie or the MUCK girls but kept her head on the pillow and focused on the sagging mattress above her, trying not to laugh. He paused and scanned then-faces for a reaction. But the girls gave him nothing. Claire desperately wanted to look at Ma.s.sie or the MUCK girls but kept her head on the pillow and focused on the sagging mattress above her, trying not to laugh.

"So I inched closer to investigate." Mr. Myner marched over to the door and threw it open. He stepped outside, and when he returned, he was holding Doose by his antlers.

"Someone's horn-y horn-y," Ma.s.sie whispered. Dylan, Alicia, and Claire cracked up. "And that's when I found this." this." Mr. Myner practically spit his last words. "He was buried under a pile of snow, his mouth covered in lip gloss." Mr. Myner practically spit his last words. "He was buried under a pile of snow, his mouth covered in lip gloss."

Everyone's shoulders started to shake. And at the same time, every girl in the cabin erupted into a fit of explosive laughter, except Strawberry, who had no idea what was going on.

"This is not funny," Mr. Myner snapped. "Not only did you steal lodge property ..." He waved Doose in the air. "You destroyed my my property. And for that you will all get up tomorrow morning at sunrise, which is at exactly ..." He lifted his wrist to his face and pressed a silver k.n.o.b on the side of his watch. It beeped three times. "Which is at exactly six-forty a.m., and you will rebuild my igloo before breakfast." property. And for that you will all get up tomorrow morning at sunrise, which is at exactly ..." He lifted his wrist to his face and pressed a silver k.n.o.b on the side of his watch. It beeped three times. "Which is at exactly six-forty a.m., and you will rebuild my igloo before breakfast."

The laughter quickly transitioned into a chorus of whines, moans, and groans.

"But I didn't do anything," anything," Strawberry insisted. Strawberry insisted.

"Well, unless you can tell me who did, I am holding you all responsible." Mr. Myner tapped his muddy foot on the rug and waited for her to speak up.

"I-I don't know who's responsible," she said to her down-filled pillow.

"Then I will see you all bright and early at six-forty," Mr. Myner said. "Don't forget your mittens." He smirked. "It's mighty cold here in the morning."

"Cole? Co-ooole?" a singsongy voice called from outside.

"Ew." Dylan said under her breath.

Mr. Myner's expression softened. "Coming, Merri-Lee," he sang back to her.

Dylan rolled over on her side and faced the wall.

"Uh, I have to go over tomorrow's shoot schedule. So no trouble or you will be up at five to catch the first bus home." Mr. Myner gently hung Doose back on the nail above the fireplace, turned off the light, and left. No one said a word until the sound of his heavy footsteps was no longer audible.

"I am so going to puke," Dylan said. "Gawd, could she be any more desperate? "Who hits on a geo teacher?"

"Desperate math teachers," Ma.s.sie said. "And your mother."

Everyone giggled.

"Very funny," Dylan whined. "I swear, as soon as I'm sixteen I'm divorcing her."

While Dylan complained about her mother and Alicia and Olivia went back to whispering, Kristen silently pulled off her soccer clothes and handed them up to Ma.s.sie, who discreetly pa.s.sed them to Claire. It wasn't easy wiggling out of flannels and putting on sweats under a layer of heavy wool blankets, but Claire was determined. She pinned her blond hair to the back of her head and swept her short bangs to the left, because Ma.s.sie insisted it drew attention to her "good side."

Once Claire was dressed, she handed her pink-and-green plaid flannel nightshirt to Ma.s.sie, who tossed them under her bed for Kristen. Phase one of the plan was complete. Now all Claire had to do was stay awake until the others fell asleep. Then she would sneak out.

Somewhere between counting owl hoots and the number of times Strawberry snored, Claire drifted off. She woke suddenly to the sound of footsteps creaking on the wood of the cabin floors. A tingle of p.r.i.c.kly sweat welled up on the bottoms of her feet. Was it a bear? Was Mr. Myner checking up on them? Was Alicia coming to strangle her?

The cabin door opened slowly, then closed. It must be someone going to the bathroom, Claire decided. She would wait until they came back and then leave, just in case they ran into each other outside.

Sometime later-it was hard to tell exactly how much without her watch-Claire woke up again. She was mad at herself for drifting off but knew by now that whoever had been walking around was either gone or had gone back to sleep.

Claire slowly sat up in her bed. The springs squeaked a little when she moved, but no one stirred. Gently, she rose to her feet and waited to see if anyone had woken up.

Nothing.

She lifted her right leg and stretched it out as far as it . would go, so that it touched one of the sheepskin rugs and not the creaky wood. When she felt the fluff beneath her wool socks, Claire took another step. She slipped on her shoes and then continued to make her way across the cabin, lightly hopping from one rug to the next, the same way she used to leap across river rocks back in Florida.

The brisk night air was invigorating. It sharpened Claire's mind and cooled the thin layer of nervous sweat that had coated her skin.

On the count of three she vowed to jump off the side of the porch and make a run for the boys' cabin. On the count of three she would make things right with Cam. On the count of three she would risk suspension in the name of love.

One ... two ... three ...

LAKE PLACID, NEW YORK FOREVER WILD CAMPSITE THE BOYS' BUNK.

Monday, February 23rd 11:48 P.M. P.M.

The overwhelming boy smell was a shock to her system, even though Claire should have been used to it by now. After all, it was the same musty combination of sweat and stale breath that her brother Todd's room smelled like in the morning, only ten times thicker.

Claire covered her nose with the thick, porous, polyester sleeve of Kristen's soccer jersey and breathed in the leftover traces of her friend's signature scent, Clinique's Happy. It was all she could do to keep from dry heaving.

If it hadn't been for Cam's infamous brown leather jacket hanging over the thick wood post of his bed, Claire never would have spotted him. He was curled up in a little ball, completely covered in the heavy wool Indian blankets, except for the top of his thick black hair.

Claire felt a flutter in her stomach. She had never seen Cam asleep before. She had never even seen him lying down. It was thrilling and slightly disturbing at the same time. It felt wrong to watch him when he had no idea he was being watched, like she was stealing something valuable from him.

After a deep inhale and a slow, measure exhaled, Claire decided it was time to make her move across the sock-strewn floor. She pressed her palms against the door to absorb the inevitable click! click! sound the latch would make when she shut it behind her. sound the latch would make when she shut it behind her.

There was no turning back now.

A few of the boys were snoring. The off-key blasts reminded Claire of her brother and his friend Tiny Nathan tuning up for band practice. But in this case, instead of covering her ears, Claire waited anxiously for the sounds and used them to help her reach her target undetected.

Snore ... step ... snore ... step ... snore ... step ... snore ...

Claire zigzagged through a minefield of muddy Timberlands, worn messenger bags, and torn-out pages from graphic novels on her way over to Cam's bed. There wasn't a fluffy white rug in the entire cabin. And instead of a cozy beanbag-and-pillow nook by the fireplace, there were big rocks covered in plaid blankets. It was more rugged than her bunk and a lot less cozy.

Her stomach lurched as she approached Cam's bed. Would he send her away? Laugh in her face? Wake his friends up so they could all see how desperate and pathetic she was?

Someone moved on the bunk above him. Claire froze and held her breath until he settled.

Once everyone was still, Claire leaned forward and nudged Cam out of his sleep. He rolled over and faced her, then opened his blue and green eyes.

"Dude!" He shot up in bed.

Dude?

"What are you doing here?"

Claire lowered herself and sat on the edge of his mattress by his pillow.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Claire?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you were Brian Jeffreys." Cam blinked a few times to clear his vision.

"Who?" Claire didn't really care what Cam was saying as long as he was talking to her.