Lisi Harrison - P.S. I Loathe You

Copyright 2009 by Alloy Entertainment

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Need U Bad by Melissa A. Elliott, Cainon Renard Lamb, Taurian John Osbourne, David W. Sinclair, Nicholas Taylor Stanton, Jazmine Sullivan (EMI April Music, Inc., Itation Records, Roynet Music, Universal Music-Z Tunes, LLC). All rights reserved.

Poppy

Little, Brown and Company

Hachette Book Group

237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017

For more of your favorite series, go to www.pickapoppy.com

First eBook Edition: February 2009

Poppy is an imprint of Little, Brown Books for Young Readers.

The Poppy name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

CLIQUE is a registered trademark of Alloy Media, LLC.

Cover design by Andrea C. Uva

Cover photos by Roger Moenks

Author photo by Gillian Crane

ISBN: 978-0-316-04114-0

CLIQUE novels by Lisi Harrison:

THE CLIQUE

BEST FRIENDS FOR NEVER

REVENGE OF THE WANNABES

INVASION OF THE BOY SNATCHERS

THE PRETTY COMMITTEE STRIKES BACK

DIAL L FOR LOSER

ITS NOT EASY BEING MEAN

SEALED WITH A DISS

BRATFEST AT TIFFANYS

THE CLIQUE SUMMER COLLECTION

P.S. I LOATHE YOU

If you like THE CLIQUE, you may also enjoy:

The Poseur series by Rachel Maude

The Secrets of My Hollywood Life series by Jen Calonita

Footfree and Fancyloose by Elizabeth Craft and Sarah Fain

Betwixt by Tara Bray Smith

Haters by Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez

For Kevy. P.S. I Love You.

FACULTY PARKING LOT

Monday, September 21st
7:58 A.M.

A plaguelike swarm of pigeons, the same milky color as the overcast sky, circled above the Pretty Committee. Their flapping wings sounded like the crisp snap of a magicians cape. Their phlegmmy cooing reached a frenzied pitch. And they unleashed their watery white poo on the fuel-efficient cars below them with remarkable precision.

In movies, opening scenes like these often suggest something eerie is approaching. That a menacing force is gathering strength. That a curse is looming. That the natural order is being disrupted...

But Massie Block knew better.

EhmaEwww. She stopped walking to wave a drifting feather away from her face.

Alicia, Dylan, and Kristen stopped too.

This is so Briarwoods fault. Massie pinch-tightened her gold silk scarf, wiping her leather leggings clean of any bird essence.

Hows this pigeon infestation Briarwoods fault? What did they do? Alicia adjusted her unsightly pink New York Yankees cap.

Relax. Massie cupped Alicias shoulder with more force than a shoulder-cupping called for. Im nawt saying its Joshs fault. The only thing I blame him for is that hat.

Massies right. Kristen twirled her shark-tooth necklace. The kitchen scraps have more than doubled since the boys moved in. She gestured to the wall of wide metal Dumpsters that lined the far side of the faculty parking lot. Its a dirty-bird buffet.

All you can tweet, Dylan giggle-added.

Massie sighed, no longer in the mood for seventh-grade jokes. She had waited all weekend to make fun of the ex-crushes in their trailer classrooms and wanted to get there before Claire did. It was bad enough Claire had turned down carpool to double on Cams bike. For her to scoop the Ex-Crushes Banished to Tiffany Box Trailers story would be unbearable.

Form-a-tion! Massie thundered. An asphalt-pecking klatch of pigeons flapped their wings in panic and flew en masse to the far side of the lot.

The girls quickly lined up on either side of their alpha, awaiting further instruction from her purple Marc Jacobs Mouse flats. As soon as she lifted the left one off the pavement, they synchronized, then launched. Within seconds the Pretty Committee picked up speed, charging the parking lot like the Radio City Rockettes in a cutthroat game of Red Rover.

Destination: the two distant trailers behind the maple trees where the terrified birds had just landed.

The same trailers Principal Burns had tried to pawn off as overflow facilities when the Briarwood boys had crashed OCD. The same ones the Pretty Committee had been sent to with the LBRsthanks to a devious plan hatched by ex-Derrington and the other soccer boys. The saaaame ones Massie had made over into glam, supersize Tiffany boxes and eventually unloaded back onto the exes. Sure the trailers cleaned up well, but just like an LBR after a department-store makeover, one good scrub and they were back to their ghastly old selves again.

I cant wait to see how funny the wannabe-Beckham boys look in robins eggblue classrooms with glitter-cotton walls, mirrored desks, and vanilla-scented room spray. Massie grinned, the light breeze heightening the sensitivity of her Whitestripped teeth.

Theyll still be Beckhams, Kristen deadpanned. Just Victorias instead of Davids. She cackled.

Point! Alicia smacked the side-view mirror of a white Infiniti as they sailed past it.

Massie stopped suddenly. Ew! Smell that? She lifted her Chanel No. 19scented wrist to her nose for relief. But the parmesan cheese/rotten lettuce/cat food stench emanating from the pigeon-infested Dumpsters could not be avoided.

Screeching to a halt, the others lifted their shirts to their noses and inhaled their powder-scented deodorants.

Gawd. Massie jammed her winter white Juicy Rock the Bag tote against her ribs, protecting it like a puppy in a hurricane. If I wanted to go to school with trash Id be at Abner Doubleday Day.

Lets sue! Alicia lifted her index finger and strut-blocked Dylans path.

Dylan sidestepped Alicia and giggle-lifted her Starbucks cup to avoid Mr. Myners pine green Chevy Tahoe hybrid.

Ahhhh! she yelped as the plastic top popped off. Latte splashed all over her white Joie henley dress. Leeeeesh!

The girls jump-backed away from Dylans chai-soaked wrist.

What did I do? Alicia squealed.

You body-checked me into Myners truck. Dylan whipped the empty cup through his open window.

Where was I supposed to go? Alicia stomped her camel-colored Kate Spade flat against the asphalt. Someone insisted we walk in formation.

Whats wrong with formation?Massie flicked Alicias shiny black ponytail.

Nothing. Alicia steadied her swinging hair. Its just that walking side by side isnt the best idea when youre surrounded by cars covered in pigeon butt

Can everyone puh-lease focus on me for a minute? Dylan pulled the soaked brown cotton off her belly. I look like Im wearing used toilet paper.

The girls burst out laughing.

Its the opposite of funny! Dylans green eyes began to moisten.

Here. Kristen held out her floral-print canvas Roxy bag.

Hows last summers beach bag gonna help?

Open it, Kristen insisted.

Dylan lifted her sunglasses and peered inside. Kristens G-rated, mom-approved outfit was crumpled in a pathetic reject heap. As usual, shed worn it out of her condo, and then Range Roverreplaced it with something sexiergenerally handed down from one of the other girls. Today it was blue-and-black plaid wool short shorts, a gray V-neck bell-sleeve sweater, and knee-high black moccasins.