"No. I need someone who can run."

"Point." She closed the door.

Kristen, who was at least two paces ahead of Ma.s.sie, led the charge as they bolted across the street to the Coopers' house. Under any other circ.u.mstances, Ma.s.sie would have made her slow down and follow, but protocol be d.a.m.ned. This was an emergency.

"What are you guys doing here?" panted Ma.s.sie when they reached the porch. "I didn't know you were friends with Marc."

"Oh, yeah." Heather slid a silver serpent charm back and forth across her tarnished chain necklace. "We're tight."

Layne pushed the doorbell again.

"Why are you you here?" Meena twirled her one random chunk of dyed green hair. here?" Meena twirled her one random chunk of dyed green hair.

Kristen glanced at their balloons. "To congratulate Marc."

"For what?" Layne tested.

"For being number one," Ma.s.sie said with major amounts of "duh!" in her tone.

Finally, the door opened. The noxious smell of wet paint seeped out.

"Congratulations, Marc!" Shoving the balloons into his pale, smooth hand, Heather forced herself inside. She charged up the stairs without another word.

Ma.s.sie shoved Kristen into the house, knowing the infamous soccer star had a decent shot at overtaking her. "Hurry!"

"Where are you going?" Marc whimpered, twisting the bottom of his spaghetti-sauce-stained gray tee around his finger.

Ma.s.sie took off behind Kristen, successfully outrunning Layne and Meena.

Along the way, she pa.s.sed dozens of framed photos. Various unflattering shots of the Afro twins-Marc and his sister, Karla-posed year after year on the same tree stump wearing matching mustard-yellow turtlenecks, in their woodsy backyard.

"Ehmagawd!" Kristen's voice echoed from one of the bedrooms.

The paint smell got stronger as Ma.s.sie neared the top, but poisonous fumes couldn't keep her from the key. She hurried into the room.

Stained white drop cloths below freshly painted brown walls were the only things she found.

Meena and Layne burst through the door.

"Where's your bed?" Ma.s.sie called to Marc, who ran into the room right after her.

"Hey, aren't you the girl from The Daily Grind The Daily Grind?" he asked.

Ma.s.sie smiled and nodded.

Kristen rolled her eyes.

"So?" Heather asked. "Where is it? Where's your bed and stuff?" is it? Where's your bed and stuff?"

"In storage until the paint dries." Marc chewed his lower lip. "I've been crashing downstairs on the couch. It's cool, though, 'cause I can watch ESPN as late as I want."

Minutes later, Ma.s.sie and Kristen were back in the Range Rover.

"I knew Marc didn't have the key," Alicia insisted. "That's why he's not on my list."

"How do you know know?" Ma.s.sie smacked the camel-colored leather seat.

"Skye never kissed him."

"How do you know know?"

"I told you, I can't reveal my sources," Alicia insisted.

Ma.s.sie rolled her eyes, "You could have told me that before I ran into his poisonous house."

"If I'd been with you, I would have."

"Ehmagawd, look!" Dylan stuffed another Munchkin in her mouth. "Olivia is on the back of Kemp Hurley's bike."

"They're pulling into his driveway!" Kristen announced.

With extreme urgency, Ma.s.sie rolled down her window. "Hey, Olivia!"

The beautiful blonde turned and waved, flashing her perfect, never-needed-braces smile. "Hey!"

"How's the rash?" Ma.s.sie called. "Did you get the ointment or are you still super itchy?"

Kemp stopped his bike.

"Ma.s.sie!" Isaac sped up, obviously trying to avoid a runin with the neighbors.

The girls erupted in hysterics as Olivia tore off down the pine-studded street.

After a sharp turn onto Candlenut Road, Kristen shouted, "Ehmagawd! There's Kori. She's on crutches."

Chris Plovert hopped beside her, using Strawberry's ample shoulder for support. His leg cast was wrapped in plastic because the dark clouds were threatening rain.

"There's no way the Slip-loc put her on crutches." Dylan's expression hung somewhere between surprise and laugher.

"It didn't," Ma.s.sie insisted. "She's faking so she can go to Plovert's house. Don't you see? It's madness out there! Everyone's in the game but us." She stuck her head out the window. "Hey, Plovert, Alicia thinks you're hot!"

Alicia smacked Ma.s.sie's thigh. "What are you doing?"

"Trust me."

Kristen cackled. Dylan laughed.

"Really?" Plovert called back.

"Swear. But she's really jealous."

Before they knew it, Plovert had reclaimed his crutches and was waving goodbye to Kori.

The girls held out their palms, ready to give Ma.s.sie a much-deserving high five. But she denied them. This was far from over.

"Isaac, we need to stop at the corner of Maple and Birch."

He pulled into a wide circular driveway, turning the Range Rover around.

"You are nawt!" Dylan covered her mouth in shock.

"Am!" Ma.s.sie unzipped her navy Prada makeup case, opened her Channel No. 5, and dabbed a little behind her ears.

"It's against the rules," Kristen reminded her.

"Puh-lease, I doubt the rules apply to us us." Ma.s.sie swiped some glitter-infused Caramel Cream Glossip Girl on her lips and blotted on the inside cover of her science textbook. "Skye probably made up the whole don't-talk-to-me thing to keep the LBRs away. Any good alpha would have done the same."

"Point."

They turned onto Birch, parking across from a quaint A-frame colonial. The winding street was packed with average-size homes complete with two-car garages and enough front lawn for a game of five-person tag. Nothing more.

Ma.s.sie grinned.

Her neighborhood was better than Skye's.

"Ehmagawd, there she is." Alicia sounded awestruck. "Wearing a ballet tutu over gray stovepipe jeans. I heart heart that." that."

"I like her beat-up jean jacket," Kristen noted. "There's a great juxtaposition thing going on there. The whole tough-meets-feminine thing."

"Whatevs." Dylan shoved yet another sprinkle-covered Munchkin in her mouth. "Our soccer uniforms were just as creative."

They watched in silence as Skye stepped off Liam Barrett's black Vespa. She unclipped her silver helmet, then finger-fluffed her just-got-back-from-the-beach sand-colored ringlets.

Ma.s.sie kicked open the door. "I'm going in."

Alicia grabbed her wrist. "What are you going to say?"

"I'm gonna reason with her, alpha to alpha." Ma.s.sie slipped off her gray Vince shrug so that her ah-dorable red Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress wouldn't go unnoticed.

Kristen crossed her fingers. "Good luck."

"Wait!" Dylan grabbed the sleeve of Ma.s.sie's dress. "Take these." She tossed her the wax-coated bag of Munchkins. "Skye likes mini things, remember?"

Ma.s.sie caught the bag, saluted her girls, and then headed out.

WESTCHESTER, NY THE H HAMILTON H HOME.

Tuesday, April 6th 4:36 P.M. P.M.

The clouds darkened to an eerie greenish gray as Ma.s.sie marched across the street, moving through varying pockets of humid and cold air. Wind rustled the leaves on nearby trees, which at first sounded like someone whispering, "Shhhh." Was nature urging her to keep her mouth closed? She stopped walking and listened again. This time it sounded like applause, an obvious message to forge ahead.

The Hamilton home had a cheery vibe. The porch was surrounded by charmingly rusted wagons filled with wild-flowers and smooth round rocks. Smoke puffed from the chimney, filling the neighborhood with the spicy warm smell of firewood. It reminded Ma.s.sie of the ah-dorable Shire scene in Lord of the Rings Lord of the Rings (the only decent part of the whole snoozer of a movie). But truth be told, the whole thing was no bigger than her guesthouse-something Ma.s.sie hoped Skye had noticed when she and her mysteriously hot, yellow-Porsche-driving friend were at the Block estate two days earlier. (the only decent part of the whole snoozer of a movie). But truth be told, the whole thing was no bigger than her guesthouse-something Ma.s.sie hoped Skye had noticed when she and her mysteriously hot, yellow-Porsche-driving friend were at the Block estate two days earlier.

At the top of the driveway, Skye and Liam were beside the Vespa, touching palms to see whose was bigger. Feeling like an LBR stalker, Ma.s.sie reminded herself that the only real difference between her and Skye was age. If they were in the same grade, they would be BFFs. So why let something as silly as a birthday intimidate her? After all, Skye would probably be psyched she'd stopped by.

"Hey, Skye." Ma.s.sie charged up the driveway.

"Hey!" Skye removed her hand from Liam's and waved. Her crackly voice gave Ma.s.sie the sudden urge for Rice Krispy Treats.

"I need to talk to you for a second." She paused. "In private."

Liam shrugged, then flicked a silver Hershey's Kiss wrapper onto the driveway. His wide hazel eyes were droopy with what Ma.s.sie a.s.sumed was exhaustion.

"Let's go round back." Skye held up a finger, letting Liam know she'd only be a minute.

He adjusted his tan knit cap and shrugged again.

Ma.s.sie beamed, thrilled with herself for trusting her instincts.

Skye, who walked with her feet out in first position, led the way in metallic green ballet flats that matched the storm clouds overhead. Ma.s.sie tried to imitate her but instantly felt like a duck.

"So, what's up?" Skye touched the ivy-covered stone on the side of her house. Her left arm glided gracefully across her torso, skimming the neighbor's hedges, then drifted over her head like an arched feather. She plied twice, then rested in third position.

"Doughnut?" Ma.s.sie held out Dylan's bag. "They're mini."

"Yummers!" Skye dug in and pulled out a sugarcoated ball. "I love mini things."

"Same!" Ma.s.sie forced herself to bite into a Munchkin. The sugar rush made her jaw tighten.

After Skye swallowed, her smile faded. Her Tiffany-box-colored eyes darkened as she glared at Ma.s.sie, like she had on the CD-ROM. "Why. Are. You. Here?"

A gust of cool wind blew through the shrubs like a 3,000-watt hair dryer over a Mohawk.

"Um, I, uh..." Ma.s.sie's palms itched. The hedges felt like they were closing in on her.

"Well?"

"It's an alpha thing," Ma.s.sie tried.

Skye reached into pocket of her jean jacket and pulled out a tiny heart-shaped mirror. Holding it up to her face, she said, "I only see one alpha." Then she held it up to Ma.s.sie. "And one cheater. And you know what that means."

A clap of thunder interrupted her, and then the rain began to fall. First one drop, then another, and within seconds it sounded like hundreds of acrylic nail tips tapping nervously on a desk.

"Actually," Ma.s.sie shouted above the rain, "I'm, uh, here to find out what you want for graduation."

"Really?" Skye tilted her head and folded her arms across her chest.