A/N: I wrote this three different times, because my computer was having problems and didn't save the first one. And the second version was horrid. So here is the third!
Not exactly when it takes place. Probably before P.S. I Loathe You, but again, not really sure. Decide for yourself. Also, I don't know if you guys have played/know of Madden NFL. It's a video game where you play football, and you can hear John Madden's voice throughout the WHOLE GAME. It's really annoying. Just thought I'd say that 'cause I make a reference to it in the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Clique. Any recognizable characters, settings, ideas, etc. are the property of Lisi Harrison. The plot is all mine, though.
It's two in the morning, when Cam sees the clock, after carefully stepping over the pile of guys on the floor of his living room. He really has to pee.
He's feeling really hazy, and it isn't until he flushes when he feels a little more aware of everything. Walking back to the living room, he sees the TV on in the den.
The brightness and light from the television casts ghost images on the walls, and he's surprised to see Derrick sitting on the floor, playing Madden on the xbox.
"Y'okay, Derrick?" he mumbles and Derrick doesn't even turn his head.
"Never better," he mumbles back and when Cam looks at the TV, he sees Derrick playing a really shitty game of Madden. He also notices a bottle of Coors sitting next to his friend, and knows that Derrick is most definitely not better than ever.
"Scoot," he says and plops himself next to Derrick, flipping the 'reset' button so they can play against each other. Derrick isn't taking his eyes off of the TV, not even when it's simply loading.
Cam can smell the alcohol, but doesn't say anything. For a split second he wonders how Derrick knew where it was, but he then remembered that Harris was constantly bragging about the "Fisher Booze Supply" right before throwing one of his famous parties. Of course Derrick knew where to find the Coors.
They choose teams, and from the beginning Cam knows that Derrick is going to lose horribly. He stabs angrily at the buttons and swears quietly every time Cam intercepts the ball, he fumbles, or Cam gets a touchdown. It's going to be a long, miserable game, Cam realizes.
That's how it goes for while, and Cam can sense something brewing under the surface. Something that needs to be said.
Middle of the second quarter, Derrick drops the bomb. "I told Massie I'm in love with her."
There would be silence if John Madden's voice wasn't booming about something or another. Cam is so surprised he completely misses tackling Derrick's player and he scores.
"Shit, man," Cam says. "Shit."
Derrick still won't look at Cam, and swears even more when he gives a weak kick.
"Yeah," Derrick mutters, "that's pretty much how it went."
It's silence after that, while they play their game and Derrick drinks. More and more and more, he must have an entire stock of booze behind his back or something because Cam thought there was only one.
The end is depressing, with the score being 8-76. Derrick sits quietly while Cam turns the game off, the silence abrupt. The clock ticks somewhere on a wall above them, the only noise in the dark. There's faint sound as Derrick adjusts his position, the fabric of his jeans rubbing against the carpet.
Cam clears his throat. "Don't worry 'bout it, man. You can find someone better."
He barely hears Derrick's answer. "I don't want someone better," he whimpers softly and Cam looks closer, seeing tears rolling down Derrick's face. It's sad, and his chest hurts in a way he can't exactly place.
"I know, dude. I know how it feels."
They sit like that until Derrick goes into the bathroom and throws up, finally falling asleep on a random sleeping bag next to all the other guys who crashed at Cam's after the party they all went to.
End notes: Because Massie and Derrington belong together, that's why!