Everyone's their own Gossip Girl *BOOK PREVIEW*

Gossip #4:

It had been Michelle’s favourite game since the summer of eighth grade. It was mainly inspired by Monica’s grave, and it had been labelled after her, “Name It”.

“Name it,” Perrie instructed, pointing to Dakota. She was a blonde, very similar to Perrie’s dyed hair, and had an extremely curvy hourglass shape, getting ridiculously anorexic towards her waist, but slightly wider in the hips and especially in the bust. She was extremely pretty and kind of a guy’s first pick if you would regard her horrible attitude towards life and everything beyond the stars to the crusts of the Earth. She was basically a bitch without any friends, all being replaced by the novel length of her ex boyfriends.

Michelle frowned, her eyebrows burrowing and her eyes narrowing as she tried to think of a name for Dakota. Then, something that occurred to her. “The Ogopogo.”

Dakota had always had a longer neck.

Everyone started laughing so hard that it seemed like no one in the hallway couldn’t resist what was going on. They all turned, including Dakota, and the girls had laughed even harder when they noticed the purple eyeliner underneath Dakota’s eyes, making them look even smaller. Michelle couldn’t help but find everything she said funny. It had kind of been a habit rubbed off from Monica onto her.

But not that she wasn’t enjoying it.

“Actually, more like the Big Foot,” Madeline stated, smirking. Madeline had been more of a follower than her leader all her life so it was hard to detect whenever she was around. Literally the only reason why the clique “kept” her was because of her extremely talented and superior gossiping and gathering information skills. It was mainly because she had so many friends-there was Michelle and Perrie to thank since her social life had bloomed only to be a social offspring. “Apparently Nick was able to sneak into the girls’ changing rooms and got a good glimpse of her real flipper size.”

She showed off her bejewelled phone. It had rhinestones of all sizes, different shades of pink and silver forming a new chunky formation for what would have been a slim and easy back-pocket device into something that looked more like a miniature vending machine. On the screen of the distracting phone, there was a clear picture of a pair of decorated-in-Sharpie speed flippers and on the base of the shoe, the number seemed slightly over the top.

“Seriously?” Perrie gasped. She had a habit of making things much more dramatic than they were supposed to be. “I heard that the flippers were supposed to be, like, a size smaller than your real show size.”

Maybe it hadn’t occurred to Michelle yet since somehow they were being magnetized to something surprising. Someone. Right before making it into their next class, the same exotic papaya fragrance mixed in with some slightly off smell of cologne caught Michelle’s attention. It took a while to focus on what was blocking half their entrance into the class.

Katrina, Andrea, Maya, and George. But it wasn’t Maya’s while monologue practising and George’s attractive good looks masked under what smelt like a cologne overdose. Instead it was the same alabaster skinned blonde in her draped cardigan and the deeper, more vibrant brunette in her plaid and denim. It struck Michelle like lightning.

Why were they even talking to each other? Michelle had assumed everyone was on a permanent strike, steering away from each other. And why did they look so happy to be talking with each other? There was an unreadable glow in Andrea and a spark of amusement from Katrina-something you don’t see often.

But then something struck Andrea. Michelle was interested to see more, but the main source of annoying was bugging her.

“Um, Mish?”