"Where?" Alicia broke into a light trot.

"On the roof." Dylan gazed at the five girls sunning them selves in a perfect line, each with one leg bent.

Ma.s.sie immediately slowed her pace to a casual mall-wander.

"How'd they get up there?" Kristen squinted.

"How'd they get heather gray leggings?" Dylan asked. "They're the hardest color to find."

Alicia huffed. "I bet Skye got them from Body Alive."

"Whatevs." Ma.s.sie smoothed a coat of Glossip Girl Original Bubble Gum across her lips, then pinched her cheeks for a burst of natural color. She would become a confident alpha in three...two...one- "We're here!"

Skye lifted her head and snapped three times.

One by one, the all-blond quintet leaped off the roof, each one landing gracefully on the blue gymnastics tumbling mat that had been strategically placed below the shed. One had braids, two had long ponytails, and another had a voluminous bob. Skye was the DSL Dater with long thick waves, and the only one Ma.s.sie envied.

She sauntered over to greet them, toes pointed in second position and clutching the gold locket.

The other blondes followed.

Ma.s.sie grinned, projecting confidence. Without a word, she pulled the Coach key chain out of her oversize orange V-necked sweater and let it slam against her chest.

"Nice work," Skye grinned.

"Nice work," echoed the DSL Daters.

Relief hugged Ma.s.sie like a pair of skintight Sa.s.s & Bide jeans.

"Ready to go?" Skye pushed up one sleeve of her angora pink sweater. Among the tangle of bracelets, a black satin blindfold lay wrapped around her wrist. She pulled it off, letting it dangle from her index finger. The DSL Daters did the same.

"Ready," the Pretty Committee answered.

All of a sudden, Ma.s.sie's eyes were being covered to the clang of Skye's gold bangles. "Hey, what are you doing?" Kristen squealed.

"Shhh," hissed one of the DSL Daters. "By the way, good game today. You were awesome."

"Thanks," she giggle-gushed.

"Ow. Stop pulling me," Alicia whined.

"Leesh, is that you?" Dylan asked.

"No." Claire laughed. "It's me. Get your hand off my b.u.t.t."

"Ooops, sorry."

"No talking!" Skye snapped. "If we get caught, it's over. Now let's move." She gripped Ma.s.sie's elbow and led her across the gra.s.s.

"Easy," Ma.s.sie pleaded. "I'm in clogs."

Skye slowed her pace.

Panic was starting to set in, and breathing suddenly became painful; each shallow inhalation bit Ma.s.sie's lungs like an overexcited puppy. What if people were watching them and laughing? What if the Pretty Committee was being set up and the whole key thing was a joke? What if she tripped? Desperate for saliva, Ma.s.sie licked her bubble-gum-flavored lips. But nothing came. Even her spit was starting to panic.

"Do we really need these blindfolds?"

Skye smacked Ma.s.sie's wandering hand, delivering a fresh waft of Clinique's Happy perfume straight to her nostrils. "You can't see where the room is until I know you have the real key."

"Puh-lease!" Ma.s.sie turned to Skye, even though her eyes were covered. "I don't do do fake!" fake!"

"None of us do!" Alicia insisted.

Skye tightened her grip, silently forbidding Ma.s.sie to say another word.

The familiar pump of the horizontal handle-found only on the door to the gym, the side entrance, and the pool-a.s.sured Ma.s.sie that they were still on OCD grounds.

"Ow! Watch the toes," Dylan snapped.

"Shhhhh," hissed one of the DSL Daters.

Suddenly, everything felt dark. The air around them was no longer fresh. It smelled like a mix of orange-scented floor wax and the inside of a tuna lover's lunch box.

"Are we by the loser lockers?" Alicia asked.

Dylan sniffed. "More like the janitor's room."

"Ma.s.s, what do you think?" Kristen asked.

"E-nough," Skye hissed.

Ma.s.sie didn't care where they were. As long as they were getting closer-closer to their secret campus club-house, closer to their fabulous future, closer to eighth-grade domination.

After one hundred and thirty-nine paces across a slick floor, a walk down a short ramp, and two flights of stairs, they reached their destination-a damp room that reeked of wet cardboard.

"We're here." Skye shimmied Ma.s.sie between the smell of Angel perfume (Alicia?) and Finesse shampoo (Claire?).

"Ready?"

"Yes," the Pretty Committee said together.

Ma.s.sie was overcome by pre-present tingles, a flutter she'd get in her stomach just before tearing the wrapping paper off her birthday presents. To her, nothing was better than that sliver of time that hung between expectation and reality. Because in that sliver, anything was possible.

"Okay," Skye trumpeted. "Blindfolds off!"

It took a moment for Ma.s.sie's mascara-covered lashes to unstick and her eyes to focus. When they finally did, the DSL Daters were huddled around the girls, keeping them from seeing anything in the dim corridor.

Skye held out her hand. "Key."

Ma.s.sie slapped the necklace in her smooth white palm and grinned.

Alicia squeaked.

Dylan twirled a curl.

Kristen twisted her sweatband.

And Claire bit her thumbnail.

After a back bend, a neck roll and some quick calf stretches, Skye stepped up to the silver handle. The DSL Daters parted just enough for the Pretty Committee to see the blue door in front of them.

"Before I open the room, I need you to understand that you are about to become members of an exclusive club."

Ma.s.sie curled her toes to keep from leaping.

"If you get caught in here, you will have ruined a sacred, time-honored tradition, and all the past key holders will unite and make your lives miserable."

"Don't worry, we never never get caught." Ma.s.sie hooked her hair behind one ear. get caught." Ma.s.sie hooked her hair behind one ear.

"Aren't you the girls that got expelled?" asked Braids.

The others giggled.

"We got back in, didn't we?" Ma.s.sie countered.

"I guess," murmured Braids.

"Don't worry." Alicia looked straight into Skye's intensely turquoise eyes. "The room will be safe with us."

"Good." Skye stuck the key in the lock. She jiggled it to the right. Then the left.

A p.r.i.c.kly sweat rushed Ma.s.sie's armpits.

"It's not opening." Skye tugged the handle.

Ma.s.sie immediately cut Claire with her eyes, silently threatening to destroy her life-and her afterlife-if she and Layne had given her the wrong key. "Let me try." She stepped forward.

Skye burst out laughing. "Just kidding!"

The DSL Daters high-fived.

Ma.s.sie tried her best to giggle.

Skye poked the key in the hole again: This time, it entered without a problem. Then, with a single click, the door unlocked. "Welcome to private-school paradise."

Ma.s.sie reached her hand inside the dark room and flicked on the lights. Alicia, Claire, Dylan, and Kristen stepped forward.

Everyone gasped.

"Did I lie?" Skye gushed.

Ma.s.sie tried to answer but couldn't find the words.

No one could.

Q&A LISI HARRISON ANSWERS QUESTIONS FROM HER READERS.

When will THE CLIQUE THE CLIQUE be a movie? Can I please play Ma.s.sie? be a movie? Can I please play Ma.s.sie?

Everyone asks this question. EVERYONE! And I wish I had better news for you. I really do. All I know is that there are powerful, suit-wearing people in Hollywood trying to make this happen. But until they do, you'll have to keep reading the books and imagine yourself saying the lines. As soon as I get an update I will post it on LisiHarrison. net. Pinky-swear.

And for all you wannabe Ma.s.sies out there: Practice your comebacks and keep honing your inner queen bee. That way you'll be ready if opportunity knocks!

Who are the girls on the cover supposed to be?

Is the one in the middle Ma.s.sie or Alicia? Where is Claire? And why are there only three of them and not four? The girls on the covers are models, meant to represent a clique, not The girls on the covers are models, meant to represent a clique, not the the Clique. It's up to you to decide based on my description and your imagination what Ma.s.sie, Claire, Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan look like. So if the girl in the middle looks like Alicia to you, then fine, she's Alicia. And if she doesn't then that's fine too. Whatevs. Clique. It's up to you to decide based on my description and your imagination what Ma.s.sie, Claire, Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan look like. So if the girl in the middle looks like Alicia to you, then fine, she's Alicia. And if she doesn't then that's fine too. Whatevs.

Which character is most like you?

I kind of have all the characters in me to some extent. I'm like Ma.s.sie because I love fashion, clever comebacks, and my puppy Bee Bee. But I am not a bully and would never want to make anyone cry, especially my friends.

I'm like Claire because I try to accept myself for who I am.

I'm like Dylan because I think burps are funny and I love to eat.

I'm like Layne because I think unique is chic. And I go through food obsession phases. This week I can't get enough of those little egg rolls filled with pizza.

The characters I am not like at all are Kristen because I stink at sports and Alicia because I have small b.o.o.bs and I would never follow anyone.

How are you able to write for seventh graders when you are clearly no longer in the seventh grade?

Simple. I WAS WAS in the seventh grade at one point in my life and I remember what it feels like to wake up in the morning and wonder if my friends will still like me, even though I did nothing wrong. I also remember what it feels like to gang up on someone else because, well, better them than me, right? We've all been Ma.s.sies and we've all been Claires at one point or another, and those feelings of abusing and being abused never go away. in the seventh grade at one point in my life and I remember what it feels like to wake up in the morning and wonder if my friends will still like me, even though I did nothing wrong. I also remember what it feels like to gang up on someone else because, well, better them than me, right? We've all been Ma.s.sies and we've all been Claires at one point or another, and those feelings of abusing and being abused never go away.

How did you come up with the idea to write about cliques?

I worked at MTV for ten years, and it reminded me a lot of middle school. People were always trying to fit in with the "cool" crowd, and it brought back a lot of memories. I'd hear things like, Who are you hanging out with this weekend? Did you get invited to any cool parties? Where did you buy that outfit? Who did you eat lunch with today? Who are you hanging out with this weekend? Did you get invited to any cool parties? Where did you buy that outfit? Who did you eat lunch with today?

Sound familiar? It wasn't long before I realized that cliques and the desire to be accepted don't go away when you get older. They just get easier to laugh at. And that's why I wrote THE CLIQUE THE CLIQUE as a comedy and not a heart-wrenching drama. Sometimes the way we act is so pathetic it's funny. as a comedy and not a heart-wrenching drama. Sometimes the way we act is so pathetic it's funny.

Any advice for wannabe writers?

1. Write every day. It doesn't have to be good or interesting or grammatically correct. Just write anyway. It will keep your juices flowing, and I guarantee that by the end of each session you will have at least one good sentence that you can use in the future.

2. Read a lot. And read the stuff you like, not the stuff you think think you should like. Because chances are you will write in the genre you like to read. So it's important to know how other people are doing it. you should like. Because chances are you will write in the genre you like to read. So it's important to know how other people are doing it.

3. Carry a little notebook everywhere you go. If you see something funny, write it down. If you meet someone with a cool name, write it down. If you think of an interesting story idea while you're on the bus, write it down. Get it? So the next time you're racking your brain for details or ideas they will be right there in your ah-dorable little notebook.