Cross My Heart and Hope You Cry | The Clique Fanfiction

10

Briarwood-Octavian Country Day School

Massie's Range Rover

Friday, September 11th

7:46 AM

Massie rubbed at the corners of her burning eyeballs, which were the same vivid red hue as the designer purse that she'd carelessly dropped in Claire's lap as she entered the car. While the bag added a burst of color to her gold and white ensemble, her eyes simply told the world of last night, which she'd spent in agony; tossing and turning in her satin sleeping bag and trying fruitlessly not to wake her slumbering friends as she wondered how she was supposed to fix her life. Three days into the school year and already she was a complete and utter mess, and all because of that thorn-in-her-side Cassia Castilla Adrieux. Despite the girl being the most popular teenager in Hollywood she found that she couldn't give a crap about the fact that she dated Taylor Lautner, or her amazing luxury ensembles, or that she was an award-winning actress (it's not like she's seen any of her movies so why would she care) or even that her mom was the legendary Delphine Adrieux and her father the equally famous Manfri Castilla, the most well-known celebrity couple, like, ever. She was so irritated with the girl's very presence that the accolades that normally would've had her vying to be the girl's best friend were swept under the rug like dirt. She huffed as she leaned against the cool panes of the tinted window, the chill proving quite adept at healing her insistent headache. She took a few more bites of her organic, 100% dark chocolate and toasted coconut energy bar, and with it, the inside of the car stopped spinning.

She'd nearly thrown up, claiming bad sushi and running into the bathroom when the girls had looked at her, stricken with fear, at the boyfast chant that had just been displayed to all on the Channel 6 News. She'd gripped the granite counter so strongly that her knuckles turned ghost white, her face turning the same pallor as she stared at herself in the mirror, wondering What am I going to do? Their reputation was in tatters, the crown that Cassia had thrown away just that morning was forcefully ripped from their heads. The feelings that had swirled violently in the pit of her stomach were worse than finding the tattered Birken that she'd gotten on her tenth birthday torn to shreds by Bean (also a birthday present) a week later. It had taken a splash of cold water, calming face mist and lavender gel moisturizer before she'd finally gained the confidence to walk back out to her clique.

Claire was crying again, babbling something about Cam through her tears, Alicia was curled up into a fetal position, as if her life was over, Dylan was stress eating from the bar on the side and Kristen was still in the same stricken position that she'd been in when she rushed into the bathroom. It'd taken ages to convince them that everything would be okay, but her steady voice and confident words had eventually soothed their troubles and they'd fallen into a worry-free sleep as her own fears quickly pushed to the surface.

She was losing control of her life, completely out of her element, out of the perfect zone that she had crafted and created so carefully, so perfectfully, over the last few years, and had no idea how to get back into it. She was losing control of her friends, her enemies, her beauty, her blood sugar; she felt like a bag out of season, thrown into the trash or given pityingly to some LBR ingrate.

"You okay?" Kristen asked, tilting the air conditioning vent above to rest on her face, cooling her flushed cheeks and face even as the girl's blond eyebrows creased with worry. She opened her eyes to slits, only for a second, before grimacing and quickly closing them once more at the sight of Kristen's absolutely horrid outfit: a cowboy hat, red-and-white heart covered tote bag, board shorts and a tank top, all from the same brand - Roxy. Gawd, her eyes hurt just looking at it, and now all she could think about was how ugly her clique must look. Alicia and her stupid Spanish boots, Claire and her depressed colors and ugly Gap jeans, and Kristen with her cowboy-surfer girl phase was only pushing her further down the totem pole than she already was. She wanted to bang her head against the window in frustration. Couldn't anything go right for her?