The Warriors Clique, Chapter 1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Warriors.
I do not own The clique.
This story is just for fun, to see what the story would be like with warriors characters instead of the originals.
No mean reviews telling me I plagiarized please, I just did this for my own entertainment.
And those of you who like it, please review :)
"Hollyleaf, wipe that confused look off your face," Hollyleafs mom, Leafpool, said. "It's really very simple - you're not going."
Hollyleaf flicked the tiny bell that dangled from her gold charm bracelet over and over again. The hollow pings were the only sounds she could make, unless of course she wanted to be accused of "interrupting" by her annoyingly polite mother, which she didn't. She just wanted to win the argument they were having.
"But I have plans and it would be rude if I broke them," Hollyleaf said. "Right? I mean, haven't you always told me to 'honor my engagements'?" She made air quotes just to remind her mother that the rules were hers in the first place. Hollyleaf looked to her father, Crowfeather, for backup, but he just sipped his tea and continued reading the latest copy of Thunderclan magazine.
"I told you about this weeks ago," Leafpool said. She spoke very slowly and enunciated every word, in much the same way she talked to Poppyfrost, their live-in housekeeper.
"You're father has been good friends with Mr. Graystripe since college. They are moving to Thunderclan all the way from Shadowclan so the Mr. Graystripe can work for him. And while they are looking for a home of their own, they will be living in our guesthouse. And as our daughter its important that you're here to greet them when they arrive."
"Why?" Hollyleaf narrowed her eyes. "They're dads free-loading friends, not mine."
Leafpool shot her husband a desperate look across the table. Crowfeather stayed focused on his magazine.
"Well, they'll be your friends soon enough," Leafpool said. "Briarlight is starting seventh grade on Tuesday too, so you should have plenty to talk about."
"What? Like math?" Hollyleaf snapped.
"You can always invite her to join in on your plans," Leafpool suggested. "Then you won't miss out on anything."
"Impossible," Hollyleaf shook her head. "We've had these appointments for weeks. We can't just call up the spa and add another person at the last minute," Hollyleaf looked away. "Not that we'd want to," she said under her breath.
"Then it's settled," Leafpool said. "Poppyfrost will have brunch on the dining room table tomorrow at 1:15 p.m. Don't be late."
Hollyleaf turned and stomped out of the kitchen. Her black pug, Jerry, scurried across the floor, trying to keep up without getting too close to Hollyleafs deadly three-inch heels. When they got to the staircase, Hollyleaf leaned down and picked up the puppy with one hand. Normally she took her heels off before climbing the steps because of the 'delicate high-gloss finish on the wood." But considering the circumstances, she chose to leave them on. Every floor-scuffing step would pay her mother back for destroying the Labor Day plans she had with her three best friends. When she got to the second floor," Hollyleaf kicked off her shoes and padded across the plush carpet straight into her bedroom. And slammed the door behind her.
"Don't slam!" came Leafpools voice from the intercom. Hollyleaf looked at the white speaker by the bed and rolled her eyes. Everything in her room was white: the leather chaise by the bay window, the sheepskin rug, the painted brick walls, the dozen fresh tulips, and her flat screen Mac. She'd designed it that way after she stayed in the presidential suite at the Mondrian in Los Angeles. The only color in the enormous hotel room had come from the decorative green apple n the middle of the white marble coffee table. She loved how crisp and orderly everything looked.
But the other day she's read in a British gossip magazine that purple was the official color or royalty, which explained the brand new mauve Calvin sheets on her bed. She'd been hoping to buy more in the 'queens color' during her labor day shopping spree, but that was no longer an option.
Hollyleaf lifted her dog in the air so their eyes could meet. "Jerry, tell me this isn't happening."
Jerry blinked.
"Missing out on tomorrow could stunt my social growth for the rest of the year," Hollyleaf said. Jerry licked Hollyleafs wrist. She loved the taste of Chanel No.19.
"Everyone will have a fresh batch of inside jokes I won't even get. I'll have to smile like a good sport while everyone laughs and says, 'Oh, you just had to be there." Hollyleaf shook her head vigorously as if her mind was an Etch a Sketch that could erase thoughts she didn't like.
"And you know Honeyfern will buy the YSL lip markers that I put a 'yes' sticker on in Lucky," she said. "And you want to know why this is happening?" Hollyleaf continued. She didn't wait for Jerry's reaction. "So I can meet some girl from Shadowclan who's going to be living here for a year. I mean, what's the urgency? She's not going anywhere." Hollyleaf paused and searched her brain for a reasonable explanation. "Unless of course she has a life-threatening illness."
Jerry yelped.
"And if she does..." Hollyleaf let out a heavy sigh. "Why should I get attached?"
Hollyleaf ripped up the itinerary she made for her friends that detailed everything she had planned for their day of beauty. She stood above her trash can and let the scraps of paper fall through her fingers like snowflakes.
Hollyleaf collapsed on her bed and stretched her arm toward her night table. She grabbed her cell and hit "1" on her speed dial. The girl on the other end picked up after the first ring.
"Hey!" Ivypool said.
"Hold on, I'll get Honeyfern," Hollyleaf said.
"Kay."
Hollyleaf punched in "2" on her phone.
"Honeyfern?"
"Yeah."
"Hold on, I'll get Mapleshade."
Hollyleaf pressed "3."
"Hey, Hollyleaf," Mapleshade said.
"Hey, Honeyfern and Ivypool and here too," Hollyleaf said.
"What's up?" Mapleshade asked. She sounded nervous, like she was about to get blamed for something she didn't do.
"I can't go with you guys tomorrow," Hollyleaf blurted.
"Yeah, right," Honeyfern snorted.
"No, I'm serious. You're not going to believe this, but I have to-" Hollyleaf paused and reconsidered her next words. "I have the flu." Which came out sounding like, "I hab da flu."
"God, you sound awful," Mapleshade said.
"Yeah, maybe we shouldn't go," Honeyfern offered. "We can come over and take care of you instead."
"What? Not go?" Ivypool snapped. "I mean, Hollyleaf, what exactly is wrong with you? Maybe we can help."
"Feber. Headache. Stuffed up doze, you doh, duh usual." Hollyleaf added a sniff and a cough for effect.
"Honeyferns right. We'll bail," Mapleshade said. "It won't be the same without you. Who's going to squeeze my hand when I get my eyebrows waxed?"
"And who's going to tell me I look fat when I try stuff on?" Honeyfern asked.
"The mirror," Ivypool said, making Mapleshade laugh.
"Hollyleaf, please don't leave me alone with them," Honeyfern joked. Hollyleaf smiled in relief. They wanted her with them. They needed her with them. And that, as always, was all that mattered. But she also knew how quickly they could change their minds.
"You all go. But I want to hear every detail of what happened," Hollyleaf momentarily forgot her sick voice. "Every single one."