Free It's Not Easy Being Mean by Lisi Harrison Page B

graduation present?”
    And then it hit her.
    “Who said it was from me?”
    Skye furrowed her blond brows.
    “Can I trust you?”
    The doubtful expression behind Skye's eyes softened. “Course.”
    Massie signaled her to come closer.
    Clearly not into taking orders from a seventh grader, Skye angled her head, giving Massie an ear instead.
    “Okay.” Massie looked right. Then left. “But you can't say a word to anyone.”
    Skye crossed her heart, oblivious to the soaking rain.
    Cupping her mouth, Massie leaned in toward Skye's ear. “The gift,” she whispered, “is from an ah-dorable boy who sent me to find out what you want. That's why I'm here.”
    “Seriously?” Skye chirped. “Who is it? Who sent you?”
    “Guess.”
    Massie's heart thumped in anticipation.
    “Ehmagawd, is it—?” She quickly cut herself off.
    “
Who?
Who were you going to say?” Massie pleaded, feeling certain the answer would lead her straight to the mystery mattress.
    Skye's eyes hardened.
    “No one.”
    As if noticing the rain for the first time, Skye shimmied out of her jean jacket and held it above her already drenched head, leaving Massie exposed. Something in her had shifted.
    “A pony.”
    “Huh?” Massie dried her cheeks with the back of her hand.
    “Tell
him
I want a pony for graduation. And if I don't get one, certain
other
people won't ever, ever, ever get what they want.” She glared deep into Massie's eyes. “Know what I mean?”
    For a split second Massie considered playing dumb. But Skye was obviously onto her, and it would have been
legitimately
dumb to anger her more.
    A dizzying, falling sensation overcame Massie. It felt worse than an eyebrow wax. The pain lingered in ways that associated with ripping hair out of her face didn't.
    “Don't worry, I'll tell him about the pony.” Massie showed Skye her phone to prove it. “I'll call him as soon as I dry off.”
    “While you're at it, tell
him
to stop sending LISPs to do his dirty work.” She put her hands on her hips. “That is, if
he
even exists.”
    Massie's ears buzzed. No one had ever called her a Little Insignificant Seventh-grade Pee-on before. No one had ever dared! Standing there, trapped under the hateful gaze of OCD's eighth-grade alpha, Massie didn't know whether to defend her honor or run.
    If only she could highlight the last ten minutes and delete them. She'd drive straight past Skye's
Lord of the Rings
house and spend every waking moment trying to find subtle yet effective ways to show Skye that she was the opposite of a LISP. And prove that she was a rich, beautiful, clever, stylish comeback queen. But that opportunity was long gone.
    “Why are you still here, LISP?”
    Fat drops of rain beat down on her like angry punches. “I'm nawt.” Lifting her gray Rafe bag above her head, Massie dashed down the driveway, unable to stop herself from running like an LBR. She kicked Liam's silver foil across the soaked driveway, then whipped the soggy Dunkin' Donuts bag into the trash bin by the curb. She'd failed in her mission, a mistake so grave it could cost the Pretty Committee the key.
    “Tell us everything, and don't leave one thing out,” Alicia squealed when Massie dove into the backseat. “Did she tell you our dance instructor gave me a star for my pas de bourrée last week?”
    “She wants us to win, right?” Kristen asked.
    “Where's the key?” Dylan burped.
    Everyone laughed, except Massie, whose mood was further agitated by the sting of the air-conditioning on her wet skin.
    “Dylan, is my name Dorothy?”
    “Uh, no.”
    “Then why did you think Munchkins could help me?”
    They cracked up again while Massie stared out the window at the long wet road ahead, wondering how she was going to buy a pony without her parents finding out.
     
CURRENT STATE OF THE UNION
IN
     
OUT
Big mistakes
     
Little doughnuts
Graduation pony
     
Graduation party
Stormy Skye
     
Sunny skies

T HE B LOCK E STATE M AIN L