The Clique by Lisi Harrison

minute.”
    “Good idea,” Vincent said as he gently polished one of the model tomatoes with his sleeve.
    Claire raced to finish her third tomato but was distracted by another noise. The faint sound of clicking buttons filled her ears and reminded her of the horrible ride to school that morning. They were talking about her again.
    KRISTEN: ?
    ALICIA: •
    KRISTEN: ???
    ALICIA: •
    KRISTEN: ???!!!
    ALICIA: • = CLAIRE GOT HER PERIOD
    When Kristen received that final text message, she craned her neck around to sneak a peek at Claire. Sure enough, a big red splotch was on the back of Claire’s white jeans. Alicia held up a paintbrush that had been dipped in red paint and waved it around. Kristen put her hand over her mouth, but no palm could conceal her throaty laugh.
    When art was over, Claire got up and headed toward the door. Each girl she passed let out a giggle. Claire wiped her hand across her nose to check for loose boogers but didn’t find anything. She tousled her bangs in case they were doing that weird split-down-the-middle thing she hated. But people still snickered. Claire was halfway out the door when Vincent stopped her.
    “Claire, can you please stay behind for a second?” he asked.
    Great,
Claire thought.
    Cream-colored ponies and crisp apple strudels
    Doorbells and sleigh bells
    And schnitzel with noodles
…
    “What, dear?” Vincent asked.
    “Nothing,” Claire said. She hadn’t realized she was singing out loud this time.
    He scribbled something on a small white notepad and Claire thought he looked like a doctor writing out a prescription.
    “I want you to go see the nurse right away,” he said. “Take this slip; it will excuse you for being late to your next class.”
    “Why? What is it?” Claire asked.
    “I’d rather the nurse deal with it. Now go,” he commanded.
    Claire stood and stared at him.
    “
Go!
”
    Claire raced out of the room but had no idea where she was going. In all of the uncertainty she’d forgotten to ask where the nurse’s office was.
    Alicia and Kristen were halfway down the hall. Alicia had been so normal, almost
nice
when she’d borrowed the paint. Maybe it’d be okay to ask them.
    “Hey, would you guys mind telling me where I can find the nurse?” Claire asked, trying to sound desperate. Maybe if they thought her appendix was bursting or she was running to get help for a dying teacher or something, they would just give her a straight answer without saying anything to her about the saved seat.
    “Ehmagod, sure. Just go down the stairs, make a quick right, and walk all the way down the hall to the very end. The office is the last door on your left.” Kristen pointed.
    Claire felt a little rush of relief. Her dramatic plea had worked like a charm.
    “Got it, thanks.” Claire took off toward the stairs like she was Dr. Monica Quartermaine on
General Hospital
.
    When Claire was out of their sight, she slowed down and walked. Whispers seemed to follow her wherever she went.
    On her way down the stairs she felt a light object hit her butt. She immediately thought of her brother and his raisins. Two more objects knocked her back, but she didn’t stop moving. She couldn’t. There was a lot of stairwell traffic behind her and she didn’t want to stop the flow.
    The basement was dim and quiet. It smelled like chemicals. She knocked lightly and waited for an answer.
    “Hello?” Claire said as she peeked inside. The room was dark except for a red light that glowed in the corner.
    “
Close the door!
” someone barked.
    “I’m looking for the nurse,” Claire said.
    “This is a darkroom!” someone snapped. “The nurse is on the main floor. Next to the art studio.”
    “Thanks. Sorry.” Claire closed the door and dashed back to the stairwell. On her way back up she stepped over three crushed tampons that had been trampled on. She assumed they probably fell out of someone’s Louis Vuitton.
    “Oh my God, Kristen, how did you ever come up with the plan to