Hey, this is my new story in replacement of my old story, Sweet Revenge. This is an attempt to write a Clique/Pretty Little Liars/Gossip Girl -esque story, and as I'm a complete novice on it, I would appreciate any criticisms and compliments too (: That's all, enjoy.
Fisher's Yacht, Atlantic – 6.30 p.m
"This. Is. Awesome." Claire Lyons breathed, closing her eyes and leaning back on the rail of the huge yacht. The slight autumn breeze was cool on her moist skin, and she could almost taste the salty sea spray in the air. Summer was fading, along with all the non-stop partying and carefree-ness.
The annual Last Summer Party was coveted as the social event of the year. With its selective guest list, it wasn't easy to score an invite. Every year, it was hosted by a member of the graduating A-list. This year, the honour went to Harris Fisher, the delicious golden boy-slash-lacrosse captain of St. Geraldine Academy. The party, as was the tradition, was held on the Fisher's yacht, which Harris had "borrowed" from his father, and was now cruising slowly along the Atlantic, off the coast of New York.
"It is." Massie Block agreed, "Cheers." The clear clinking of the glasses prompted Kristen Gregory, who had been lounging at the side, her legs interlocked at the ankles, to crack open an eye. Her skin still glistened with water after her dip in the ocean, giving the impression that she was sparkling. Kristen Gregory was effortlessly gorgeous, Massie couldn't help think dreamily.
Her golden curls that glimmered in the setting sun rippled down her back and her mile-long, slender legs spilled out of her strapless pearlescent bikini. This usually made Massie immensely jealous and self-conscious, but now all she could think of was how much Kristen looked like a stunning mermaid.
Shit. The alcohol must be getting to her.
"Lay off on the booze, you guys. School starts tomorrow and I swear to god I'm not going to help you guys explain to Headmistress about your tendencies to act like a walking zombie again." Kristen drawled in annoyance, casting a sideways glance at her best friends, Claire and Massie, who both looked as if they had drowned themselves in alcohol. Her eyes were half closed, her long eyelashes casting shadows on her angular cheekbones.
"Chill, Kristen." Claire sighed, exchanging an exasperated glance with Massie. "It's the last day of summer! This party rocks. Oh, speaking of the party, wonder how long poor little Harris will have to stay in his room once his father finds out his yacht is missing?"
Kristen and Massie laughed, remembering the time when Harris's father had sailed with the US marine police to go looking for Harris, who had taken his yacht for a party. The comical sight of Harris's father, eyes bulging with rage, when he had finally found his yacht and many teenagers who were completely stoned out of their minds. The highlight of the whole thing was when Harris, under the influence of alcohol of course, mistook his father for a male stripper that the campus prankster, Danny Robbins had hired and proceeded to encourage the "stripper" to carry on with his job.
"I'm aware of my deeds of heroism," A shirtless Harris sauntered up to them, putting his impressive six-pack on display. "But how's the party, ladies?"
Massie smirked. "Hot." Then she placed a hand on his bare, muscled chest and leaned closer so she could whisper into his ear. "Like you."
"Really?" Harris murmured back, a smile playing at the corner of his lips which were inches away from Massie's, as he wrapped an arm around Massie's bare waist in front view of Alicia Rivera, his current flavor of the week.
But of course, Massie, in her dark coral bead bikini that barely covered her at all, was pretty hard to resist. Claire and Kristen could only stifle their laughter behind their hands as they watched Massie and Harris flirt, blindly oblivious to the death-glares that Alicia Rivera shot the pair.
A momentary ray from the sun blinded everyone on the yacht. Claire and Kristen turned to watch the burnt gold sun dip into the horizon as light drenched the yacht. Then the magnificent palette of crimson and burnt sienna of the sky faded into inky black darkness. For a second, complete darkness seemed to settle on the yacht.
Then, so sudden it startled everyone, the fireworks burst into the sky, all reds and golds and blues and greens and silvers.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as the fireworks illuminated the yacht. Claire could see most of the faces glance up in awe. She could see Nikki Dalton making out with her new boy toy, pressed so tightly together that Claire wondered if they could even breathe. She could see Griffin Hastings, Harris Fisher and a couple of other juniors, Derrick Harrington, Cam Fisher and Josh Hotz punching each other on the arm playfully. Typical. Only Derrick, Cam and Josh could be tight with the graduating A-list. Finally, she could see her beloved friends, soft smiles on their faces.
Claire reached out for the hands of Kristen and Massie, and as the three of them held their hands and their breath, they stared out at the crystalline ocean, glowing softly under the moonlight.
"Forever." Claire whispered to both of them, and the three of them linked their arms tightly together. Claire wanted to commit this moment to memory, to etch it in her mind, to capture it, forever.
Then the moment ended and the spell was broken.
Someone screamed. An ear-piercing, spine-chilling, blood-curdling scream.
The three girls stood up, looking around for the source of the noise, like the rest of the partying crowd. A pale-faced girl emerged from the basement. Claire recognized Cookie Elson, the valedictorian of the current year. A few hours ago, she had been composed, calmly giving a confident speech in front of the whole school on the stage. Now, she was reduced to a puddle, trembling all over, and she could barely speak, let alone stand.
Harris dashed forward and caught her before she fell to the floor.
"What's wrong? Cookie, talk to me!" He asked her frantically. Cookie tried to speak, but all that came out were incoherent grunts. Then Claire took in her hands, which were slick with a dark red liquid, and her face, which was cut on one cheek.
The sharp-eyed Kristen rushed forward and picked up the piece of paper that had fluttered out of Cookie's hands.
"What does it say?" A ripple of murmurings had gone through the crowd, all too terrified and stunned to do anything else but cluster around Harris and Cookie.
"You know you love me…" Kristen recited from the note, then looked up in bemusement. "Z."