Lisi Harrison - Massie

Copyright 2008 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.

Glamorous by William Adams, Christopher Brian Bridges, Stacy Ferguson, Jamal F.Jones, Elvis Williams, Jr. (Cherry River Music Co., Elvis Lee Music, EMI April Music Inc., EMI Blackwood Music, Inc., Headphone Junkie Publishing, Ludacris Universal Publishing, Showdy Pimp Music, Universal Music Corp., Will I Am Music). All rights reserved.

Poppy

Little, Brown and Company

Hachette Book Group USA

237 Park Avenue,

New York, NY 10017

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

First eBook Edition: April 2008

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

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.

ISBN: 978-0-316-032100-5

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:

MASSIE

DYLAN (Coming May 6)

ALICIA (Coming June 3)

KRISTEN (Coming July 1)

CLAIRE (Coming August 5)

For Josh Bank, Sara Shandler, and Lanie Davis. Our love child has arrived! Thanks for your tireless work and for not killing me along the way. :)

HORSE STALL A

Monday, June 8
8:15 A.M.

The morning sun felt like a spotlight. It cast a thick yellow beam through the window in Brownies humid, hay-filled stall, illuminating the white horse and blinding his owner. But Massie Block didnt mind one bit. She was used to the glare of the spotlight. She craved it. Chased it. Dressed for it. Basking in its warmth kept her alive. Yet today, the spotlight was threatening to shine on someone else. And Massie wanted to die.

She lowered her tortoiseshell Dior glasses and snapped a purple glitter hair elastic around the bottom of Brownies foot-long mane braid. His intricate hairstyle, aubergine satin blinders, and gold glitter mascara were sure to impress the judges of the Galwaugh Farms Jump and Canter Competition and, more important, the editor of Horse & Rider.

For the first time in the equestrian magazines history, the winning captain of the Galwaugh Farms JACC would be featured on the glossy cover of its September issue. And what better way to kick off eighth grade at OCD than with a beautifully airbrushed alpha portrait?

Pop!

Massie jumped. The sound of her teammate Jacqueline Dyer popping Forever Fruit Stride gum between her over-bleached teeth was unnerving.

J, can you puh-lease stop that! Massie hissed at the dark brown wood stall wall between them. Youre scaring Brownie.

Sah-rreee, Jacqueline called, her nasal voice slightly higher than usual. Its a nervous thing.

What are you so nervous about? Massie asked, already knowing the answer. She tucked her black-and-gold Herms cravat into the sharp V of her velvet riding vest, even though it was perfectly tucked already. It was all she could do to keep from stress-biting the black tips off her not-so-French French manicure. Those blue ribbons have Galwaugh Goddesses written all over them.

Unless the Mane Mamas take first, Whitney Bennett chimed in from behind the opposite wall.

Impossible! Massie barked at her summer best friends. We win JACC every year. As team captain it was her job to keep everyone positive, even when things seemed utterly hopeless.

Yeah, but we never had Fall-a Abdul on our team. Jacqueline set off a round of gum pops that made Brownies gold lashes flutter in panic.

Stop calling me that, Selma Gallman whined from the other side of the stable wall. I told you, I got an inner-ear infection from swimming in the lake yesterday. And thats why I keep falling. My balance is off.

What was your excuse last week? Massie marched out of her stall and straight into Selmas. Or the week before?

She was through with the calm, confident leader act. She lifted her Diors and glared into Selmas heavy-lidded mud-brown eyes.

Thanks to your ear, my six-year winning streak is in major jeopardy. Massies voice trembled. A vision of the highly decorated Wins Wall in her bedroombetween the bay window and the walk-in closetflashed before her. It had just enough room for one last ribbon and a framed cover of Horse & Rider. And the thought of that space staying empty filled her amber eyes with salty pre-tears. Not only for her. Or for the Galwaugh Goddesses. But for Brownies elegant hairstyle and all of his hard practicing.

For three exhausting weeks, Massie had focused on victory as a way to put the nightmarish end of seventh grade behind her: The Pretty Committee, with help from Layne Abeley, had accidentally punctured Briarwoods rooftop wave pool, causing the whole thing to leak and collapse, flooding the boys school. As a result, the ex-crushes were months away from invading OCD and threatening Massies alpha status. Add in a summer away from her best friendsDylan spa-ing in Hawaii, Alicia partying with her cousins on the Costa del Sol in Spain, Kristin tutoring spoiled brats in Westchester, and Claire reuniting with her old Orlan-dull buddies back in Floridaand ruling Galwaugh Farms exclusive riding camp was the only way to keep from snot-sobbing herself to sleep at night.

Glancing out the window, Massie tried to distract herself to keep from losing her cool. But the sight of junior campers, staff members, parents, and local reporters making their way to the dirt-paved arena only upset her more. The only thing worse than losing was losing in public. And thanks to Selma, she was minutes away from both.

The familiar smell of Jacquelines citrus-scented gum and Whitneys flowery freesia hoof n nail cream enveloped her. Her girls were standing beside her now in solidarity, shooting how-could-you-be-so-lame rays at Selma and Latteher carrot-farting steed.

Whitney scraped her riding crop against the scrubbed concrete. How did you qualify for our team, anyway?

Does it matter? Selma took her fleshy pink hand off her cocoa horses buttock and placed it on her own lumpy hip. I thought the whole point of riding was to have fun.

No, Sel-muh. Massie kicked a haystack with her black Herms riding boots. The whole point of riding is to win. The fun part is laughing at the losers.

Selma opened her heart-shaped mouth to respond but was cut off by Alessandro, their award-winning groom.

A good-luck gift for youuuu, he announced in his sing-songy European accent.

Everyone turned to face the tall fortysomething man bounding toward them in an ivory linen suit and black Gucci loafers. He had four enormous silver gift bags swinging from the mini-biceps on his hooked fingers.

Enjoyyyy. Alessandro smiled proudly, deepening the Botox-thirsty smile lines that fanned out from the corners of his dark eyes. His black hair was parted neatly at the side and plastered across his forehead with cherry-scented pomade. He gave each girl a bag, then stepped back to witness the joy.

Massie offered Alessandro a courteous pre-thank-you smile. But it was fake. Unless the bag contained the secret to keeping Selma on her saddle during the competition, its contents were meaningless.