Part 9 (2/2)
”Welcome to paradise,” Mr. Myner said.
But no one seemed impressed. They were too busy rubbing their arms, trying to stay warm while Mr. Dingle, Briarwood's geography teacher, searched the grounds for Gus, their mysterious contact person with the keys to the cabins.
Ma.s.sie was relieved that Derrington and the boys had run off to explore the hiking trails. It gave her a minute to regroup. Faking nausea for five hours had made her feel a little sick.
”Did you know Lake Placid was the site of the 1980 winter Olympics?” Mr. Myner boasted. His extra-fuzzy Patagonia pullover was still tied around his waist and he donned a pair of mirrored sungla.s.ses with a yellow neon string attached to the arms. His nose and lips were slathered in white zinc to keep the sun off. ”We are standing in the winter sports capital of the world.”
”Zzzzzzzz,” Ma.s.sie said, barely loud enough for her friends to hear.
”You don't think this is cool?” Claire asked.
”It's cold!” Alicia stuffed her hands under her armpits.
Mr. Dingle came racing back, shaking a big round ring of keys. His big square gla.s.ses were lopsided and his potbelly jiggled as he ran. He looked like a bobblehead next to Mr. Myner.
”Who's ready to see where we're going to be living for the next three days?” Mr. Myner took the keys from Mr. Dingle and dangled them in the air like a cat toy.
”I can't believe he thinks zinc is a good look,” Alicia whispered. ”What an LBR.”
Ma.s.sie leaned in toward Dylan and whispered in her ear, ”If that doesn't turn your mom off, nothing will.”
”Then I guess nothing will,” Dylan said. ”Look.” She pointed at Merri-Lee, who was in the middle of pulling the mirrored sungla.s.ses off Mr. Myner's gooey nose so she could try them on. James, her cameraman, was right beside her, shooting.
”James,” Merri-Lee hissed. ”Don't get me, get the girls.” She shooed him away impatiently.
”Ew.” Dylan held her stomach like she was about to barf. ”I'll never be able to eat again. I'll be a size zero when I get back.”
Ma.s.sie saw Derrington lead a pack of boys out from the woods behind the cabins. ”I know what you mean.”
”Ladies first,” Mr. Myner said, leading the girls to their-sleeping quarters. He unlocked the wooden door and they stepped inside.
”No way, this is so Ralph Lauren,” said Strawberry, whose real name was Coral McAdams. Ma.s.sie wasn't sure if the LBR had gotten her nickname because she dyed her hair pink or because her face was always turning red thanks to her psycho temper. She could have asked but didn't care enough to bother.
”Did you say Ralph Lauren?” Alicia said, pus.h.i.+ng past Strawberry.
”Watch it.” Strawberry elbowed Alicia.
”No, you you watch it.” Alicia held her gaze and Strawberry stepped aside and let her pa.s.s. The two girls had been temporary friends over the holidays while Alicia and Ma.s.sie were fighting, and if there was one thing Strawberry should have remembered, it was Alicia's undying love for all things Ralph Lauren. She even liked his spicy Polo cologne and ah-dored Josh Hotz for wearing it. watch it.” Alicia held her gaze and Strawberry stepped aside and let her pa.s.s. The two girls had been temporary friends over the holidays while Alicia and Ma.s.sie were fighting, and if there was one thing Strawberry should have remembered, it was Alicia's undying love for all things Ralph Lauren. She even liked his spicy Polo cologne and ah-dored Josh Hotz for wearing it.
”Ehmagawd!” Alicia squealed. ”It is! It Alicia squealed. ”It is! It is is Ralph!” Ralph!”
Ma.s.sie was the next one to push past Strawberry. She had to see for herself.
”It is,” she whispered, like she was inside an old church.
The entire room smelled like sweet pine needles.
There were five bunk beds, but not the kind you see in jail movies. These were the kind where the posts are made of hefty sh.e.l.lacked logs and the mattresses are thick and covered with fluffy featherbeds. Each bunk had a different, colorful Indian blanket folded across the bottom and a thick pillow at the top with a hunter green flannel pillowcase.
White fluffy sheepskin rugs covered most of the dark wood floors, except for the area around the fireplace. That was piled high with pillows and red suede beanbags. Stuffed animal heads hung above the mantel, adding the final touches to the hunting lodge theme. A row of ten cedar closets lined the back wall of the cabin, so each girl had her own personal storage area.
”Where are the bathrooms?” Layne asked.
”There are girls' and boys' bathhouses outside, right behind us,” Mr. Myner said.
The girls moaned.
”Hey, we are are roughing it, remember?” he sternly reminded them. roughing it, remember?” he sternly reminded them.
A loud burst of boy laughter came from outside. Ma.s.sie felt a tingle in her stomach. She couldn't believe she was going to spend multiple nights sleeping so close to Derrington and his friends.
All of a sudden, she was filled with renewed excitement. She had great clothes and a popular boyfriend, and her her mother wasn't tagging along. It was time to stop worrying and start living. mother wasn't tagging along. It was time to stop worrying and start living.
While the girls raced to claim the beds, Ma.s.sie made a silent dash for the closets. The ones on the end had more room, and she was going to need it. Besides, she knew someone in the Pretty Committee would save her a bed.
”Do you think it's Alexandra?” Alicia whispered.
Ma.s.sie jumped-she could have sworn she was alone. ”What?”
”Do you think Josh likes Alexandra?”
”No. Why?” Ma.s.sie's heart was still thumping from the scare.
”Because she's not ugly. And she's been obsessed with learning how to kiss.”
”Maybe she's just a perv,” Ma.s.sie said.
”Olivia thinks it's Livvy because she's good at sports and so is Josh.” Alicia bit her lip. ”What do you think?”
”I dunno.” Ma.s.sie opened a closet and ran her hands across the shelves. ”Do you think this one is bigger than the one on the other side?”
”Forget it.” Alicia turned away on the rubber heel of her black moccasin boot. ”I'll just talk to Olivia about it.”
”I'm sure she'll be a huge help,” Ma.s.sie called after her.
When she was alone again, Ma.s.sie opened the cedar closet on the far right of the wall. It was definitely a little roomier. She immediately put her pink Coach purse inside it to mark her territory. Ma.s.sie couldn't wait to unpack, get settled, and change into one of her Placid-perfect outfits.
A muscular woodsman dragged her luggage inside. The black-and-red suitcases looked great against the dark wood of the cabin. Tumi knew exactly what they were doing.
”Over here.” She waved to the woodsman.
”Who do the rest of these go to?” He dropped the bags on the floor and pulled up his dirty no-name jeans by the belt loops.
”Me,” Ma.s.sie said impatiently. ”They're all mine.”
”Are you moving up here?” he asked with a toothless smile.
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