Even I have to admit I am bored to death of Massington, but this little plot bunny wouldn't leave me alone. My next one-shot will be a Cassie. Or Krosh. Or something... not Massington!
Oh well. Review (:
I don't own the Clique. Consider this disclaimed.
Second. A simple word, but undoubtedly one that had nothing to do with Massie Block.
Derrick Harrington jammed his numb hands into the stiff pockets of his brand-new Diesel jeans, bought specifically for the purpose of feeling that fiery amber gaze locked onto him again.
Massie Block didn't do second.
Second best, second prettiest, second smartest, second funniest, second place -- no, not her.
But more importantly, second chances.
As he strode down the street, the biting early December wind whipping right through him, he kept his eyes focused on the evenly paved ground beneath him. At this point, it was the only thing that made sense any more. Everything else was as jumbled as Guitar Hero on expert.
How could he have been so immature? What had he been thinking?Massie had never been cheating on him. That gay, depressed guy was not her type at all.
He had blown it. Big time. Soccer finals big time.
And now she wouldn't even talk to him, save to crush him with her classic disses. It was better than nothing; not by much, but at least she knew he still existed.
For crying out loud, he was Derrick Harrington.Hottest, most popular, cutest, most lusted after, best looking, coolest, funniest guy at Briarwood. Not to mention modest.
So then why, why, why was he so hung up on one girl?
So maybe she wasn't just one girl. She was the hottest, most popular, cutest, most lusted after, best looking, coolest, funniest girl at OCD. Even if she was anything but modest.
Frustration built up inside him like pizza boxes at Slice of Heaven. Man, that was good pizza.
No. Forget the pizza. He would go every daywithout pizza if it meant having a second chance with Massie.
A stray dirty blonde curl fell into his tipped-foward face, and he had to lift his head to shake it back, and only then did he notice his location.
Oh shit. He was on her street. In fact, that was her house. Right there. Four houses up and across the street.
He kept walking, his pace picking up with every rushed step. His best friends' not-so-helpful advice taunted him.
"Dude. You're never gonna get her back. At least Claire can be bought over with gummies."
"Alicia would give me a second chance! She likes being second... I think."
"You blew it with the hottest girl in school! Well, I have a chance to hook up with that hottie now!"
"Man, move on already. It's not like she's the only single one in the Bitchy Committee."
As he approached her house, he ducked his head down and continued slinking down the luxurious street. The evening was one of the perfectly cloudless, star-loaded variety, and the full moon was so bright it was almost glowing.
He couldn't help but to steal a glance into her bedroom window, and the unmistakeable disappointment that nagged him when he saw her light was off mingled with the intense jealousy he felt. Where could she possibly be at 8:30 on a Thursday night? Out on a date with some other guy?
Pouting like only five-year-olds and Derrick Harrington could, he kept his feet moving one in front of the other.
Slab after slab of smooth, gray concrete met his dejected caramel stare. That is, until a velvety, yapping black dog slammed into him, making him jump back.
"Watch where you're going," A voice growled. "You almost ran over my dog."
He snapped his head up instinctively. He would know that voice anywhere.
Standing in front of him in all her amber-eyed, purple-streaked glory, was the one and only Massie Block.
"Block?" He said stupidly. What else was there to say?
"Harrington," She greeted him coolly. Her steely glare gave him a once-over, and he found himself missing the days when she talked to him, not at him. "What's with the jeans?"
Massie Block was the only one who ever rendered him speechless. "I, uh... well," He stammered, still staring at the ground.
"If that's all you have to say, I'm done here. Let's go, Bean." She flounced past him, her heels clicking on the pavement.
And just like that, he found his voice again. "Wait! Block, I do have something to say."
She turned around and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "So say it."
He took a deep breath and advanced toward her. "I miss you."
"Excuse me, what?" She questioned, incredulous.
"I miss you. I'm sorry. I'm the immature one. I was stupid. You weren't cheating on me with that... guy." He couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes.
"And what makes you think I care?" She inquired, her voice so calm and detached he felt his last hopes disappear.
How hard could it be to sound as blase as that? Maybe he should try the whole hard-to-get thing.
"I don't know!" He almost-whined. So much for the whole playing-it-cool thing. It was a lot harder than Massie made it look.
"Derrick, I don't give second chances," Massie reminded him. Her amber eyes longingly said otherwise.
"True," Derrick shrugged, meeting her contemplative gaze for the first time.
Her eyes filled with unspoken alarm, and he could just tell she was trying to find a way around her firmly spoken words.
He smiled, a real, genuine smile, and he pulled her close and kissed her.
Honestly, he wasn't all that surprised when she kissed him back, but it filled him with happiness all the same.
Finally, she broke apart from him, looking pleased with just a pinch of annoyance that she had broken her "always first, never second" rule.
"Block, I'm sorry."
When she opened her mouth to protest, he pushed back that persistent curl again and grinned, this time mischievously.
"You said nothing about third chances."
There you have it.
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I'm working on the next chapters of NPLH, WtPCBtBY, and Revelation. Sorry about the long wait. My computer crashed, my brother won't let me use his laptop, and my dad's computer is completely off-limits. He thinks I'll break it.
Anywho. Click the purple button. Do it.