the clique: return of the alpha

iii.

THE BLOCK ESTATE
MASSIE'S ROOM
Saturday, September 1st
11:41 A.M.

     "Ehmagawd, your room is so ah-dorable now!" Alicia squealed. She was holding three garment carriers, a Saks bag, and a lambskin Chanel makeup case, but she still manage to look around the room in awe before collapsing on Massie's Lili Alessandra rug.
     "Totally," Kristen agreed. "Are those real Rembrandts?"
     "Who cares! Massie, open your present!" shrieked Dylan, grabbing the Saks bag and passing over. "It's a welcome home gift from all of us."
     Massie sat atop her Louis XIV bed, surrounded by a spread of gifts and cards to rival a Neiman Marcus Christmas ad. By her left elbow, there was a package from Taylor Momsen. But she only cared about one, and that was currently pressed next to a protein bar wrapper in Dylan's outstretched arms. She grabbed it, pulling away layers of soft white tissue paper.
     "Ehmagawd! The Valentino PVC tote!" Massie hugged it into her chest, luh-ving the way it felt against her Cinq à Sept cami. "You guys are ah-mazing."
     "Please," Alicia scoffed. "Don't even worry about it. And it would look totally kuh-ute with your dark-wash True Religons."
     "And your caramel Theory sweater!" Kristen chimed in. "That would so be an eight letter word for endearing."
     Massie giggled, slipping on the bag and striking a few Hadid-level poses while the other girls giggle-cheered. Claire had held the group back with her lack of style and boring, girl-next-door personality. But still, liberation felt strange, like when Massie got here first long bob in third grade. It was definitely an improvement, but she occasionally caught herself trying to brush away the missing hair. But Claire wasn't an glossy, Red Door Spa-perfected shade of amber-brown. She was Claire. And her leaving should bring nothing but joy. So why was Massie still thinking about her during her mini welcome back?
     "Um, is anyone else a little hot?" Massie tried to think about something else, shrugging off the purple DKNY tunic draped casually across her shoulders. "The air conditioning was supposed to be fixed, but I guess the repairman messed it up."
     "A little," Kristen replied, unzipping her corduroy jacket and revealing a blue cashmere turtleneck. It hugged her toned soccer shoulders and long, lithe neck. Massie understood why she had to layer— it wasn't the kind of thing overbearing Mrs. Gregory would've let her out of the house in.
     "That's so ah-dorable," said Dylan, smacking her watermelon Bubblicious as she envy-stared at how slim Kristen's arms looked. Alicia and Massie nodded. "Where'd you get it?"
     "Yesterday, at Chloé," Kristen replied. A faint smile stretched across her thin, glossed lips. "My dad came home from Philadelphia a few days ago, and he says... he says we might be getting some of our money back."
     At first, there was the kind of quiet one might expect after Kate Moss stepped off the runway; filled with surprise and heavy with anticipation. Massie was the first to break the silence.
     "Ehmagawd, Kris!" She immediately embraced her friend, and the other girls followed suite. It smelled like green apple, Clinique's Happy, Angel perfume, and Chanel No. 9; just like a hug should.

After a few minutes, Massie let go. She fluffed her curls, reapplied her tinted Mixed Berry Glossip Girl, and snapped twice to get her friends in order.
"Kristen, we're all excited times ten, but does anyone remember why this meeting was ah-ficially called?"
The other girls exchanged looks. "Um, wasn't it to welcome you back?" Alicia said. She nervously fiddled with the end of her low-pony.
"Wrong!" Massie barked. "This is a goodbye party. For Kuh-laire."
Slow smiles spread across the faces of the Pretty Committee. Massie Block was back— and she meant business.

THE RIVERA ESTATE
THE GAZEBO
Saturday, September 1st
6:01 P.M.

"Quick, outfit ratings," Massie declared, recording the final stages of their plan into her Palm Pilot. They'd spent the last six hours creating something so devious it was sure to send Claire right back to Orlando, where jelly sandals were haute couture and the biggest celebrity was Mickey Mouse. And the welcome-back party the Riveras were throwing was the perfect place for deployment. But, as every alpha knew, looking ah-mazing was the best revenge.
Alicia stepped forward, giving a timid twirl. Her gauzy orange dress hugged her figure, and even as she spun she didn't wobble in her white Rebecca Minkoff heels.
"9.6," Massie announced. "Love the turquoise statement necklace, but awl I can see is your clumpy mascara. Reapply ay-sap for an extra point."
Next was Kristen. She wore a dark green halter dress that brought out the gold tones in her skin, and her hair had been neatly clipped up with a pearly barrette.
"9.6. Your sandals are cute, but that rhinestoned bag is so nouveau riche. I thought we left Paris Hilton back in the 2000s." Massie cocked an eyebrow, daring Kristen to object as the blonde stared down at her clutch sadly.
Dylan was the last to go, and she bounced eagerly up to the center of their circle. Massie had to admit, she looked better than usual in her tiered Gucci mini. Not that she would ever say so— Gawd knows Massie would look like something from Magnolia Bakery in that skirt.
"Um, Dyl, are you an airport?"
"No....?"
"Then what's with all the flyaways?" Massie snapped. "Your organza blouse is ah-dorable, but you need some gel before you get within ten feet of that party. I have some Bumble and Bumble in my purse."
Dylan bit her lip, running a hand through her curly red hair. "It's supposed to be, like, an au natural thing. Blake Lively did it at the Met."
Massie felt slightly nauseated, like she'd arrived at a party and realized her outfit was all wrong. Dylan never objected to her rulings, and was usually too self-conscious to compare herself to anyone below a size 10.
"Well, yours looks more like an au-magawd, what is she doing-thing." Massie stated, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Fix it. You look like the Little Mermaid, with all of the salt damage and none of the volume."

Massie watched as the girls flitted around the gazebo, staring into Chanel compacts and rifling through their purses. She kind of liked making them second-guess themselves— it proved who was really in charge.
She snuck a second to gaze at her reflection in the glass gazebo window. Her one-shouldered purple dress hung off her tanned skin, and her lips were coated in the perfect amount of Posie K. The brand new Birken that had been a moving gift from Kendra and William brought the right amount of upper-class snobbery to her outfit, a necessary thing since she was certain Claire would insist on dragging along Layme Abelely. All in all, she looked amazing.
And yet, her mind couldn't help drifting to her again. All the better to ruin you in, Kuh-laire.
"Can we go in?" Alicia asked, swiping one last coat of YSL against her cheek. "The party started at 6,"
Massie rolled her eyes to keep herself from going off on another rant about how casual lateness could make or break an event. But it was nearly a quarter past six, and she didn't want to risk Mr. and Mrs. Rivera coming to look for them. "Fine. C'mon, ladies, we're walking to—"
"Um," Kristen interrupted. She was quiet and unsure of herself, but Alicia quickly stepped in.
"We like to do the same song. It's easier that way,"
Massie looked at Kristen, then Alicia. She felt like she'd just finished a marathon shopping trip without buying a single thing: winded, worn-out, and resentful of the waste of time.
"It's Coming Back, by Lil J," Dylan suggested. The look on her face said she was trying to be helpful, and the look on Massie's said she was failing.
"Whatever. Just remember the plan,"

I'm coming back like a rocket ship
Back like my last bitch
Never better, even though all these MFs wanna hit
You can't touch me (whooo)
Coming back
Coming back

Massie continued to whisper-sing the chorus until she'd entered the Rivera's expansive ballroom. Nearly two years ago, they'd held a welcome party in this exact location for Alicia's cousin Nina. After she turned out to be a Lindsay Lohan-level of klepto, the Pretty Committee had sent her back to Spain in one of their best revenge plots to date. Did they have the power to do the same thing to Claire?
The crowd broke into applause as Massie stepped into the center of the room. And why wouldn't they? She was the It Girl of Octavian County Day, back to rule again. And this time, she was here to stay.

STATE OF THE UNION
in: parties, GLUs, revenge
out: plane rides, brits, resigning