Clique Bait - Ann Valett Page 0,27

charming smile before picking up his bag and becoming lost in the crowd.

Stage Four

Infiltration

Ten

Dear Monica,

How do I even start to dress for a party? Closed-toe or straps? Legs or boobs? Magazines are only so helpful. I wish you were here.

We never really went shopping together, did we? Our styles clashed too much and we could never decide which stores to stop in—you thought vintage smelled too much like old people, and I got bored with the repetition of the mall. But when we did I got to see another side of you. Lost in glamorous labels, playing dress-up in front of a mirror. You were always made for more, weren’t you?

Maybe Level One knew it too, and that’s why you scared them.

Love, Chloe

THE MALL WAS a fifteen-minute drive from school, twenty minutes in the heavy traffic. I arrived early, killing time by strolling past the shop windows. My eyes skimmed over a magazine rack and found today’s paper.

Curious, I strolled inside and picked it up. William’s dad was on the front page, standing behind a lectern with a wide smile. One email and I could ruin his career, ruin William’s family. The magnitude of that possibility made my fingers tingle, and I carefully placed the paper back onto the stand.

I met Maddy outside a Victoria’s Secret store. She was leaning against the wall in thigh-high boots and her plaid school skirt, her black hair raised in a high ponytail and her face dimpling as she smiled in greeting.

“Hey, Chloe. Thanks for meeting me!” she said. Unexpectedly, she wrapped her arms around me in an extravagant hug.

“Thanks for asking me to come along,” I said. Even though I knew I was a last resort.

“So, do you have something to wear?” she asked, strutting down the mall with me in tow, her eyes skimming the selection of designer stores.

“No,” I said, struggling to match her long stride. “Not yet, at least.”

“That’s perfect,” she said, flashing me her teeth in a glamorous grin. “We can find something together!”

We ducked into a small boutique, one hidden away in a corner. Despite its unimposing entrance, its interior was large and inviting, the walls lined with a row of expensive-looking clothing.

“Camo or chic? Glamour or simple?” Maddy asked, fingering the luxurious fabric.

“Uh . . .” I glanced around the store for inspiration. “I think glamour.”

“Good call. You know, I bet lace would be awesome on you. You seem like a lacy person. Maybe a plunging neckline with a flowy hem?”

“Sure,” I said quickly, barely able to picture what she meant. I was anything but a lacy person.

An assistant emerged from behind a clothing rack and began collecting the items Maddy clicked her red-painted nails toward.

I fidgeted with my fingers nervously as I stood at her side, nodding or shaking my head arbitrarily when she looked to me for an opinion. While I was fumbling to pass her fashion pop quiz, beneath the surface I was confident. Being alone with Maddy was a golden opportunity for executing my plan.

“So, are you into anyone at the moment?” I asked, running my fingers over the sleeves of a jumpsuit.

Maddy’s smile grew a little. “Here’s the tea: I’ve yet to find anyone in high school good enough to fall for, guys or girls. And if they’re not perfect, there’s no point in being locked down. I’m a free spirit.”

Well, she must have an extreme sense of freedom if that extended to sleeping with Francis Rutherford.

“But don’t let that put you off Will,” she continued. “He’s a really good guy. You’re lucky to have him.”

“Lucky?” I pushed, now letting my hands find a tulle dress in front of me, the fabric rough between my fingers.

“Yeah, I mean, he’s the most eligible bachelor of Arlington, isn’t he? Oh, Chloe, not that one, it would make you look . . . you could look much better. You need something figure-hugging.”

My hand fell from the dress I’d been observing. “Yeah, I mean he is really great. Only . . .”

I let my sentence trail off.

“Only?” she asked after a few small seconds. I could practically sense her gossip radar pulsing.

“You can’t tell anyone,” I said, my words accompanying a reluctant sigh. “It’s just—Lola said something . . .”

“Lola?” Maddy asked. She looked confused, but I could see the spark of interest in her eyes. “What did she say?”

I hesitated. “She, um, just mentioned that she may have slept with Will. I don’t know, I don’t want to cause any bad blood. It just had