Cross My Heart and Hope You Cry | The Clique Fanfiction

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Briarwood-Octavian Country Day School

The Cafe, Table Eighteen

Tuesday, September 8th

8:07 AM

Derrington's shaggy blonde hair shifted into the color of honey as he turned his head to whisper coyly into the ear of some girl with glossy, voluminous, exotic curls. They put Alicia's own dark locks to shame, something Claire'd never thought she'd witness as she had always thought that Alicia must be the most beautiful thirteen-year-old to grace the planet. 

She was sitting on some boy's lap; that at least she could tell by how she was raised inches above everyone else at the table. She leaned forward to hear what Derrington had to say and Claire was able to see the long expanse of her back as her already-cropped top rode up further. She was shimmering. . . literally—golden glitter shining upon her skin in a way that made her glow, as if she were an ethereal being. A pale hand that contrasted greatly with the girl's russet skin (it reminded her of the salted caramel toffee from her favorite candy shop back in Florida) settled against her back, a thumb rubbing up and down her spine. Suddenly, her shoulders shook with laughter and she lowered her head to hide her giggles, those large ringlets catching the light and glowing in the warm amber rays of the Cafe. She leaned forward further to reply, giving Claire a better look of the boy whose lap she was settled on. He had dirty, golden brown hair that moved between shades of amber and caramel as he moved, and was wearing a brown, leather jacket that was oh so familiar, and—oh my god.

Dylan: Who's on his lap?

Claire wanted nothing more than to ask the same thing, but after several previous attempts of trying to join the conversation she knew it was a lost cause. Her fingers hadn't been trained by years of typing on the small keyboard like the rest of the girls, and was not nearly fast enough to keep up with their lightspeed texting. Even then, her hands were too shaky to type anything, as her body had seemingly frozen and her breath had hitched in the back of her throat as she realized what the presence of that girl meant.

Cam had replaced her, and judging by how model-like the girl looked even from the back, he had leveled up spectacularly. Seeing another girl sitting on her crush's lap made her stiffen in her seat, her hands growing clammy and sweaty, and not knowing whether she wanted to barf or cry, but knowing that whatever was rising from the depths of her stomach wasn't good.

Alicia: dont kno

Kristen: new grl?

Massie: must b

Dylan: her outfit is 2 die 4

Despite her better judgement she looked back towards the new couple, noticing —almost immediately— the Jonathan Simkhai ensemble after months of style magazines being shoved into her face by Massie and the rest of the Pretty Committee. The outfit showed a surprising amount of skin that Massie would've most certainly called trashy if it didn't look so perfect on her. Despite never really having bothered with fashion and runways as much as the rest of the girls sitting at Table Eighteen did, even she felt a severe case of outfit envy as she looked at the girl. If Massie was a ten, then this girl was a ten-point-three, and she knew that Massie could tell by the way her hands clenched on top of the bamboo table.

Alicia: that watch costs as much as our tuition

Kristen: her shoes!

Dylan: they havent even been released yet

She fought the urge to run out of the Cafe and go cry inside a bathroom stall, forcing herself to look away from the couple that only made her heart throb painfully in her chest. Throughout the summer she'd had an errant hope that she'd come back from Florida with her brand new tan and Massie-loaned clothes, wowing Cam so much that he'd take her back with open arms and a bag of gummy feet to boot, and yet that fantasy was crashing around her spectacularly.

Claire looked up from her feet as Massie shot out of her eco-seat, before catching herself and quickly sitting back down, her cheeks flushing only marginally. She turned back to the text conversation she hadn't been paying attention to.

Dylan: OMG! Is derrington wearing jeans???

Massie: whatevs! boyfast or bust!

There was nothing left to say, whether about Cam moving on, Josh Hotz gaining himself an entourage or Derrington suddenly getting over his shorts obsession. They'd made a promise and had their new charm bracelets (which were a comforting weight against her wrist) to prove it. After all, the promise they'd made on the Great Lawn was a good thing and she found herself grateful that her friends were just as boyless as she was. One look at Cam and his new supermodel girlfriend made her stomach knot up like a gourmet pretzel and she had the sudden urge to release her fruit smoothie across the bamboo table. It was unhealthy—boys (and especially the feelings they induced within her) were unhealthy. 

The Cafe went up in a cheer as teachers made their way through the aisles, setting down stacks of fluffy, still-warm pancakes and unveiling a toppings bar in the center of each table. Claire glanced over to the soccer table only for her heart to drop further in her chest. Vaguely, she wondered if she liked punishing herself.

Cam was laughing, throwing his head back and making his bright, white teeth gleam. Then, in a way that she was sure Cam only did to hurt her further in some sort of flirty-revenge plot, he took a dollop of organic whipped cream onto the tip of his finger and smeared it onto the bridge of the girl's glowing nose, her nose crinkling cutely before she erupted in a peal of laughter. Then she was smacking a palmful of white honey onto Cam's flushed-in-happiness cheeks, her laughter only growing at his surprised look. Everyone at the table cracked up and joined in and it wasn't long until the entire school was looking on with envy as the school's hottest boys marked their new love interests with the day's farm-fresh selection.

The mystery girl grabbed an embroidered satin napkin and sweetly whipped the honey from Cam's cheeks, before placing a chaste kiss on his golden skin, Cam giving her a brilliant smile in return. As Claire died inside a faint jingle woke her up from her trance and she turned back to find the rest of the NPC waving their bracelets around their ears like jingling little alarm bells. The clanging charms served as a reminder (or a warning, maybe?) of their new pact and she gave them grateful smiles as she turned fully in her seat, turning her back on her old crush.

"Thanks," she managed stiffly, Massie nodding and piling diced strawberries onto her whole-wheat, quinoa pancake. She realized it would take way more than platinum jewelry from Tiffany and Co. to help her get over the blue-green eyed boy only a little ways away . . . way more.