Best Friends for Never by Lisi Harrison Page B

was forced to sit on the toilet seat.
    “I can't believe I let you talk me into this,” Layne said.
    “You promised.” Claire finger-combed her blond hair and reapplied some clear gloss. “How many guys do you think will be into a girl they met on the toilet?” she asked Layne as she lowered herself onto the cold seat.
    “We're being set up.” Layne tried to keep the corners of her costume from scratching the plaid Ralph Lauren wallpaper. “Why would she have us wait in a
bathroom
if she wasn't planning something humiliating?”
    “Trust me.” Claire crossed her legs and bit into a Nerds Rope. “She just wanted us to meet her here so no one sees her talking to us in public.”
    “Oh,
that's
all.” Layne shook her head. “Great, I feel sooo much better now.”
    She adjusted her pillows. “You know, meeting boys in bathrooms is something runaways do. I feel like we're being filmed for some sort of public service announcement.”
    They were interrupted by a light tapping on the bathroom door.
    “Someone's in here,” Claire shouted.
    “No, it's
me,
Massie.”
    “Oh, come on in.” Claire jumped to her feet. She was about to pinch her cheeks so she'd have a little color until she remembered her face was covered by a mask.
    Massie tried to open the door and it jammed into Layne's costume.
    “This is stupid,” Layne snapped as she regained her balance. “I'm leaving.”
    She had managed to wiggle past Claire and get halfway out the door when she came face-to-face with two tall, gangly, dark-haired boys. One was surrounded by a chunk of gray foam and the other was in all black with dinner rolls pinned to his clothes.
    “I'm Rock,” said the chunk. “And he's Roll.”
    “Have a blast,” Massie said. She turned and walked out of the cabana.
    “Oh my God, that's hilarious,” Layne said to the rock. She tried to slap her knee, but all she could do was lift her arm half an inch into the air and then lower it. “Can you guess what I am?”
    “Of course,” Rock said. “You're a couch potato. I've been watching you try to walk in that thing all night. You must be
fried
.”
    Roll cracked up at his friend's potato joke and high-fived him.
    “Oh my God,
fried
,” Layne said. “Claire, how funny is that?”
    But Claire didn't think it was funny at all. She was more interested in why Massie assumed
she
would be into the garage band type. Layne might be “indie,” but Claire was pure pop.
    “I'm Eli,” Rock said to Layne. “And this is Tristan.”
    “Hi,” Claire and Layne said at the same time.
    “Anyone wanna go for a skate?” Eli asked.
    “Totally!” Layne said. “By the way, you rock.”
    “Could she be any BOULDER?” Claire said to Tristan, hoping her dorky pun would break the tension between them.
    “Huh?” he said.
    Claire didn't bother repeating herself. Instead she watched Layne and Eli take off toward the skating rink. She was embarrassed to have positioned herself as the “boy expert” when it took Layne less than ten minutes to meet her indie soul mate. Meanwhile, Claire would rather have been left with her own brother than Tristan.
    “Wanna dance?” he asked.
    “Uh, sure?” she said. But it came out sounding more like a question than an answer.
    Tristan held his hand out to Claire. His nails shimmered with silver polish. They matched the silver sparkles in his blue eyeliner. Claire bent down and pretended to adjust the strap on her Mary Janes to avoid his gesture.
    “Where do you get your makeup?” Claire asked once she straightened up.
    “My older sister.” Tristan looked proud. “I usually sneak into her room after she leaves for school.”
    “Usually?”
Claire asked. “You mean it's not part of your costume?”
    Tristan raised one eyebrow and cocked his head.
    “When was the last time
you
saw a roll wearing eyeliner?”
    Claire searched his face for signs that he might be joking, but he held her gaze.
    The DJ put on Pink's “Get the Party Started” and Claire was