a/n- if there's anyone out there, uh, hi. hello. you've seen this about three different times, but this is The One, i swear. i have a good feeling about this rewrite and it even feels like it. the others were a bit too try-hard, i think, and this one really got down to the roots of it. that, and i accidentally stumbled upon the inspiration for the lost boys on youtube the other day.
i know that the clique fandom is basically dead, but i'm still gonna do this because i'm stubborn and can't stop thinking about these stupid characters i tortured for 50+ chapters from my senior year of high school to my junior year of college. i'm better now, i think, and this is much more mature than anything ever could have been. i also promise not to kill josh. that was in very poor taste last time.
anyway, if there's anyone out there, you can let me know how much you hate me and my indecisiveness in a review. and if i delete this- fingers crossed that i won't- feel free to come at me with pitchforks. you know. if you care enough.
taking a different take on the whole storyline, so here's a present day situation and i will tell the story of the pc and briarwood boys' past hostilities in a more roundabout way. giving my boys kemp and plovert a little more love this time around, seeing as i always manage to throw them to the back no matter how hard i try.
this is disclaimed.
scar tissue
.
Hold on, I still want you
Come back, I still need you
Let me take your hand, I'll make it right
I swear to love you all my life
- "Hold On," Chord Overstreet
.
The Hurley house loomed over them like a gothic castle, and in the dark light of a September night, the shadows stretching over them, it seemed more a scene from a horror movie than it did a typical home in Westchester County, and Massie Block couldn't help but wonder if that was what her life would turn into. She could probably pull off the whole "final girl" plot line, and if not she could definitely kick some ass if a psychotic murderer was after her. With that thought in mind, she knocked- once, twice, thrice- each time being as incessant and annoying as possible.
There was a low groan to her left, a clammy, sweaty forehead pressed against her forearm, and she rubbed her free hand in soothing circles on Alicia Rivera's back as they waited.
"Mathie," her best friend slurred, breathing sharply through her nose, "I don' feel so good…"
"I know, babe," Massie murmured back, bringing her hand up to knock again. She really, really hoped Kemp was home, even though she hadn't spoken to him or any of his other friends in how many years. "Just hold on a little longer, okay? He'll answer."
"Who will?" Alicia asked.
"Kemp."
"Why are we at Kemp's?" she questioned, surprisingly articulate. "We hav' net spok'n to him in years…" She stopped, frowned, exhaled. "How will he 'elp?"
The more sober of the duo ran her fingers through the other's hair. "He lives the closest to where we were," she explained, and she was glad Alicia wasn't coherent enough to ask any more questions. She couldn't say why she remembered where he lived, or how she knew how to get there from Robert Kensington's house. She just… did, and a little part of her knew it was because two years ago she'd made this trek more times than she could count. Thankfully Alicia couldn't put two and two together in her current state.
Massie lifted her hand to knock again, fist slamming against the wood in front of her in an irritating song of desperation and fear. Alicia looked like she was ready to upchuck any second and Massie wanted to get her friend somewhere comfortable and safe before she started. It was one of the reasons she ushered her out of the football party so quickly.
In fact, her phone was still ringing: Dylan Marvil, Kristen Gregory, and Claire Lyons were, no doubt, wondering what became of them. Massie just didn't have the time to explain.
"Massie," Alicia said.
She heard it before it happened, felt Alicia's entire body shudder, and, as fate would have it, the door finally opened as the Latina bent her head and vomited on the WELCOME HOME mat in front of the Hurleys' white door- no longer as pristine, or pretty, or white now that there were multicolored chunks of Alicia's exciting, drunken night all over it.
Sheepishly, Massie greeted Kemp (tall, dark, and handsome): "I'll clean that up."
He considered her, considered them- Massie, in her multicolored, sheer purple minidress, and Alicia, in her tiny shirt and killer pair of skinny jeans- and merely drawled, "I thought you were the pizza delivery guy."
"I'm not," snapped Massie, because her friend had thrown up this close to her suede platform pumps, and because Kemp Hurley was staring at them like they were some sort of annoying insect he'd love to kill. "But when it comes, I'll pay for it. Now please don't make me beg to come in."
Kemp sighed and shouldered his door open a little more, gesturing (albeit sarcastically) for her to enter. He took Alicia's deadweight from her left side, hooking an arm around her and pressing her against his side. Alicia mumbled nonsensically, shifting her weight so her head settled more comfortably on his shoulder.
"Where'd you guys go?" he asked, righting the Latina bombshell. "The kitchen's the first door on the right and the bathroom is down the hall a little more and to the left."
Massie kept from saying I know and nodded, rifling through her purse for her wallet. "Does sixty cover your food?" she asked, slapping three twenty dollar bills on the small table in the foyer. "If not, just let me know."
Kemp wrinkled his nose. "You don't have to pay for-"
"I'm going to," Massie interrupted. "I'm crashing your-" She broke off as the rest of his friends yelled at something in the other room, a video game, no doubt. "-guys night."
"It's just a normal Saturday night," Kemp mumbled, nodding his head so she knew to follow him. "Where'd you guys go?"
"Rob- Vader's," she said, knowing he'd know his old friend better from his middle school nickname than anything else. Vader no longer breathed awkwardly, having gotten septum surgery after one too many footballs to the face, and while he was now attractive in all capacities, he was also the captain of the football team. "I think Alicia just had too much to drink and your house is the closest to his and I couldn't take her home like this…"
"Don't go to football parties, Mass," Kemp advised, stumbling slightly when Alicia stopped helping him. He paused, just outside his den, trying to get her back on her feet.
She ignored the way he called her "Mass" (only her friends did that) and frowned. "Why not?"
"You have to be careful," he said, kicking the door open with his knee. The loud voices of his friends greeted them, shouting over some sort of fighting game- Injustice, maybe, because they were talking superheroes and villains- and Kemp, over his shoulder, elaborated, "They spike their drinks."
"They do what?"
"Dude, is that the pizza?" came Chris Plovert, settled between an arm rest and Cam Fisher.
"Uh, no," replied Kemp, eyebrows pinched as Alicia hiccoughed, "it's-"
"Massie," the other girl said loudly.
Kemp transferred her best friend to her arms, grabbed the trashcan, and had Alicia's face in it in a record-breaking ten seconds. It would have been impressive had Alicia- prettiest girl in school, the same girl who never let boys she was interested in see her eat- not heaved into it. She held Massie's elbow in a vice-like grip, dragging her down to the ground with her.
The video game was muted, an awkward shot of the Flash halfway into his special move against Batman. Two heads popped over the side of the couch. Both Josh Hotz and Cam looked over to see the new arrivals, but Massie was too busy pulling Alicia's hair out of her face to pay any mind.
"What are they doing there?" Derrick Harrington asked flatly at the same time Chris Plovert wondered, "What happened?"
"They went to a football party," answered Kemp instead of Massie.
"A football party." Josh wrinkled his nose, dropping his controller. "Don't they- they spike their drinks, right? That's what everyone is saying?"
Kemp nodded once, standing imperiously above the two girls. "I was just telling them that." He crossed his arms over his chest, narrowed his eyes at Alicia's pale, prone form. "Plovert, can you go to my room and get an extra pair of pajamas?" He tilted his head to the side, watched Massie tie Alicia's hair into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. "Two, actually."
Massie ignored how uncomfortable she felt, pretended like she wasn't aware of the aggressive way in which Kemp hung around them. Only Chris seemed interested and worried and he listened to orders, slipping and sliding in his socks to his best friend's bedroom two floors up. There was a beat of silence, the game still paused, though Massie wasn't sure why.
They weren't at all concerned about Alicia, that much was obvious; more like they were annoyed with their presence, but Massie was not going to call Isaac to drive them back- she'd throw up in the car, and that wasn't easy to hide- and she couldn't walk halfway across Westchester with Alicia in this condition… She didn't care if she ruined their night or if they were bothered by them, it was the best for Alicia, and Massie would always do what was best for her, even if it made her want to tear her hair out.
And want to tear her hair out she did. She couldn't help but notice the way they were all kind of just peeking at them- unless you counted Kemp, who was angrily glaring and Derrick, who was very adamantly staring at his fingers.
"What do you mean they spike their drinks?" the willowy brunette asked.
"Exactly what you think," Kemp replied, his defensive pose softening slightly. "The football team is known for it… PCP, roofies, ketamine, what have you… they put whatever they can get their hands on in their punch and have the girls drink it." He licked his lips. "I'm assuming that's what Alicia did."
Massie frowned. "…But why?"
"Because they can't get girls on their own, that's why, Block," Derrick replied snottily. He restarted the game, Batman getting his ass kicked by the Flash because Josh hadn't been paying attention.
She rolled her eyes, ignoring the racing of her heart. "And they think it's okay to… to what? Hinder a girl's decision making so they'll… they'll agree to sleep with them?"
"It's not that they'll agree to sleep with them," Cam said, unable to take his eyes off of Alicia, who was now curled up against Massie's calf, using her leg as a pillow. "It's that they… can't say no."
"And they like that?" Massie spat out, tucking some of Alicia's hair behind her ear. "You know, like… basically forcing a girl into doing something she wouldn't even want to do, isn't that- isn't that technically-"
"I haven't heard it actually ever working," Kemp said, dropping to the floor beside her. His legs were long but he crossed them, pretzel-style. "The football team is full of assholes anyway, Mass. You girls shouldn't go to their parties regardless."
"And what parties should we go to, then?" Massie snorted. "Yours? As if."
Kemp smirked. "You're in my house, are you not?"
"Like I said," Massie shot back easily, "your house is the closest. I couldn't bring Alicia home like this-"
"-aren't her parents hardly home?" he retorted. "What would be so wrong about taking her there and doing exactly what you're doing now? Nothing, right? We're not friends, we'll never be friends- at least that's what you told all of us at one point- so what are you doing here?"
"You let me in," she reminded him.
"True," Kemp agreed, "but I could have easily slammed the door in your face. I'd like to remind you that I'm not a terrible person, even though you seem to think I am." He reached a hand out to stroke her cheek in some power move. Massie wriggled out of his reach. "Don't skirt the question."
Alicia moaned, breath hitching, and pushing herself up. "Massie."
"Yep?" the other girl asked softly.
"Did Kemp ever open the door?"
Massie shot the boy in question a scathing look, but the words out of her mouth were gentle. "Yeah, babe, he did."
"…tha's nice of him." Somewhat aware of her surroundings, Alicia leaned over and patted Kemp's foot. "I think 'm dying."
Kemp lightly placed his hand over hers, meeting her glassy-eyed, bloodshot gaze. If Massie wasn't exhausted and sort of tipsy, she might have noticed the tender way in which he regarded her. "What'd you drink, Rivera?"
She shrugged, shaking Kemp's hand away from hers and flopping on the floor.
"What'd she drink?" The question was to Massie now.
"What she normally drinks?" the girl replied, more question-like than an answer. "How am I supposed to know? I don't, like, watch her every move."
"Maybe you should," he murmured, grabbing Alicia's foot and tugging it closer, swiftly untying the laces of her black booties. "Did she like these shoes?"
"I don't know," said Massie, watching him.
He shimmied her foot out of one and Alicia giggled something like that tickles and the fight ended on the television screen, Batman and Josh losing spectacularly because Derrick hadn't told him he was turning the game back on.
Kemp got to work on the other shoe, carefully avoiding the vomit stain right by her big toe, and said something like we can probably clean these and Massie ignored the vibrating of her phone.
He'd grown his hair out since shaving it all off last winter. It was thick and wavy, a bit of a mess now, at, like, twelve in the morning, but nice as a whole. His cheekbones were sharp, angular. Squinting, Massie could see the fading of a bruise on his jawline; she surprised herself by wondering what had happened. She knew Kemp had a bit of a reputation, but…
But watching him run a finger over Alicia's socks, checking to see if they were stained like her shoes and watching him regard her very carefully, like she was a doll or his sister… those weren't the actions of a guy who so often found himself settling matters with his fists instead of his words. She was reminded, so suddenly, that he and Alicia had been friends, and not in the way he and Massie had been friends (not really, not at all) but friends in the way they had called each other to talk about their days and Alicia's boy troubles and Kemp's most recent suspension… and how, when neither of them had dates- or didn't want to be bothered finding one- to school dances, they went together…
We shouldn't be here.
"I'm… gonna go," she started, pushing herself to her feet, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom." She was very well aware of everyone staring at her- except Derrick, never him- and scratched her nose. "If- if she throws up again, you need to hold her hand. She likes to be comforted."
"Give that job to Chris," Cam muttered to Josh just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Sure he'd like-"
"Drop it," Kemp interrupted, fixing the two boys with his most severe glower. "The bathroom is just past the kitchen on the left."
"I know," Massie said, wondering when their dynamic changed. "You told me earlier. When I got here."
And I didn't exactly forget, but she wasn't about to say that.
Instead she shuffled out of the room, pausing to take deep, clear breaths. The murmuring of the boys resumed once they thought she was out of earshot and while she couldn't make anything out, she hoped Alicia was less black out than everyone assumed. It was a long shot though.
She wandered down the hall and dropped herself on to the toilet seat as soon as she locked the bathroom door behind her. Kicking her shoes off- they made so much noise- she wrapped her arms around her legs and sighed, leaning her forehead against her knees.
Two years had passed and she shouldn't be so surprised by the hostility. She wasn't, actually, that wasn't it. She was more surprised by the way things had changed and the way they hadn't. They still hung out together, the boys, that is, and they still played that stupid game, and they still hated her.
But Kemp had let them in, let Alicia puke on his welcome mat, was giving them clothes to… to sleep in, probably, because he wasn't going to let them leave even though it seemed like that was all he wanted.
And maybe it was because they were at Kemp's house that he had the most control over them, but Massie had never seen Cam shut up that quickly. Had never seen Kemp look like that angry. Had never imagined Derrick Harrington would remain that silent.
Well, that was a lie; she had. It was just… she used to know why they did what they did. Why they were mad. Why they were quiet. There was a time when she knew them and that time had so clearly passed- but had enough time gone that she didn't recognize them anymore?
It wasn't like she came in here with any intention of patching things up, or with some ulterior motive to get back in their good graces. They were the last people she wanted to see… but Kemp was the only person she could think of when Alicia got sick in Vader's bushes.
She didn't care. They didn't care.
So why was she sitting in Kemp Hurley's bathroom, eyes shut tight, a gigantic wave of sadness crashing over her? Why was she sitting in Kemp Hurley's bathroom, eyes shut tight, missing them?
She blamed it on autumn; that season always brought out the worst of her nostalgia. Stupid beautiful dying Earth and metaphors for change and turning over new leaves…
Massie shook herself out as she got up, splashed water on her face (thank god for waterproof mascara, am I right?), and pulled her phone out of her little bag. Her friends were probably worried sick.
A series of text messages awaited her, but she hardly spared them a glance. Her most recent missed call was from Claire, so she pressed on her contact, held the phone to her ear, and waited.
Claire picked up on the third ring. The party was still going on, it seemed; the music and screaming teens were so loud Massie had to lower the volume. In the distance she heard a chorus of CHUG CHUG CHUG and she wondered if they'd finally convinced Olivia Ryan to do that minute keg stand.
"Where are you?" Claire demanded, shouting. Massie could imagine her covering her other ear and frowning as she tried to make out what she was saying. "You know what, never mind that- you missed it: Kristen made out with Dempsey Solomon, and like, wow, is he cute now that he's back from Africa or wherever the hell he summers. Jeez. Oh, and Dylan is, like, the queen of Flip Cup, she just beat the entire football team, and apparently Danny Robbins and Skye Hamilton broke up and Danny is looking for Alicia, can you believe it? And- oh, where are you? Landon is here and he's-"
.
Claire Lyons: wth why'd u hang up
Claire Lyons: probably for the best anyway its too loud here
Claire Lyons: LANDON CRANE IS LOOKING FOR U!
Dylan Marvil: scale from 1-10 how attractive is griffin hastings
Dylan Marvil: objectively speaking ofc bc he fucked kris over that one time like 5 years ago
Dylan Marvil: good kisser tho
Dylan Marvil: I'm gonna give him an 8
Kristen Gregory: u dont have a crush on dempsey anymore do u
Kristen Gregory: i hope not
Kristen Gregory: buying u that michael kors bomber jacket u want as an apology gift anyway
Chris Plovert: got you and Alicia coffees and bagels
Chris Plovert: whenever you're ready to come downstairs it's in the kitchen
.
Alicia tied Kemp's oversized New York Mets shirt at her waist, did her best to fix the mess that was her hair, and frowned at Massie. "I can't believe you brought me here."
Me either, Massie thought.
"It was either this or drag you all the way across town," she said, rubbing her finger over her teeth in some half-assed attempt to clean them. "And I'd rather not humiliate you in front of all of Westchester-"
"Oh, but you'd humiliate me in front of them?"
"Yep," Massie replied cheerfully. "My first thought when you started vomiting was hmm, you know what will be fun, embarrassing Alicia in front of five boys we don't hang out with anymore! I decided that was an excellent plan so all one hundred and twenty pounds of me pulled you, a dead weight of, like, three hundred, four blocks and an entire neighborhood over so I could do just that." She rolled her eyes. "Really, Leesh? I don't want to be here any more than you do."
A flush spread over the Latina's cheeks. "Sorry," she mumbled. "It's just… I don't really know what happened last night and I'd hate to…" She shook her head, pieces of her haphazardly done bun falling into her face. "Thanks for taking care of me."
"Of course." Massie flung her arm around Alicia in a teeny, tiny hug. "Now let's go downstairs. Plovert bought us food."
Alicia groaned. "I cannot go down there," she replied vehemently even though she was following Massie's lead. "This is the worst. Can we just skip the breakfast and go?"
"Absolutely not. You need to eat something and I spent sixty dollars on pizza last night, so I deserve this."
"You did what?"
Massie ignored her and overwhelming feeling of dread washing over her. It was one thing to arrive, unannounced, with a sick and drunken friend, but it was entirely another to barge into the aftermath of a sleepover- did boys call it that?- and eat breakfast. Even if the breakfast was for them.
She hoped, making a quick left at the foot of the stairs, that they were all gone by now; it was nearing ten-thirty on a Sunday morning, surely they had soccer practice or something.
But then she heard the quiet murmuring of voices and knew she was wrong.
She never lost a step, though, and she balled up all the courage she could find- she was Massie Block, goddammit- using it to help her as she flounced through the threshold into the kitchen.
"Look who's finally up," Kemp Hurley spoke lazily, hands wrapped around a coffee mug. He was completely dressed, Houston Astros baseball hat backwards on his head, and Massie felt a twinge of discomfort in the fact that she was still in borrowed pajamas… and probably would be for a while since all she had was her dress and heels upstairs.
"Good morning." Alicia brushed the hair out of her face, hopping onto a stool as gracefully as she could. "Uh… where are the rest of them?"
"Have a seat, Mass," Kemp offered, nodding towards the table. "D has brunch with his grandparents. I don't know about the other two."
Alicia nodded, ripping apart the paper wrapped around her food. From the look on her face, Massie could tell she was taken aback by the order. It was clear Plovert still remembered Alicia only ate poppy seed bagels with cranberry cream cheese.
"They left super early, though," Plovert replied as Massie took a chair on his left. "Didn't bother to say bye." He looked past that brunette to the other. "How're you feeling?"
She shrugged. "Okay," she said. "Less like I want to die, but not so much that I can…" She gestured with her chin to the bread in front of her, which she was just crumbling into tiny pieces.
"You should probably try though."
"The only thing I really want to do is go back to sleep."
"Feel free," Kemp said, putting his empty mug in the sink. "Chris and I have no plans today."
On her other side, Chris shot Kemp a look, cheeks reddening, but Massie was too busy sharing a significant glance with Alicia to notice.
We're not friends, her eyes seemed to say, so why is he offering up his home?
Massie blinked back. I don't know.
"Um, I really shouldn't," Alicia protested, "my mother has no idea I'm not at Massie's, and that's where I said I'd be-"
"As if the girls can't cover for you?"
"They don't know where we are, either," she said quickly. "They're probably worried and-"
"They'll cover for you anyway," Kemp interrupted. "Say you're at the spa or whatever with Massie."
Alicia inhaled sharply. "We do everything together, why would we not include them if we were all sleeping over at the same place-"
"Kristen doesn't want to get her nails done because of the upcoming soccer season, and Dylan already got hers done with her sisters, and Claire just didn't feel up to it, wanted to stay home with Todd," Plovert recited, as if he knew all of this because they told him. "It's easy. Besides, you two live a good ten minute drive from here."
"And I really don't want you vomiting in my car," Kemp continued. "Now eat your bagel, Rivera. You're never good at taking care of yourself after nights like this."
She shot him a dirty look, eyebrows furrowed. "How do you know?"
"Are you forgetting that I know you?"
"Not so much anymore," Alicia countered, but she popped the tiniest piece of bagel in her mouth.
"We could change that," Kemp retaliated easily, looking from her to Massie, "both of you."
Alicia made a face. "Why would you want that?"
"I don't," he said, "not in the long run at least… but you're both in my house and… well, what were you going to do, ignore me? Us," he added, roping Plovert into it as an afterthought.
"We weren't going to stay," replied Massie. "Thank you for the hospitality, but-"
"Nuh uh." Kemp grabbed her wrist before she could get up. "Not driving you, remember? And you can't get a ride because then everyone will know you aren't where you claim to be, right?" He smirked, looking down at her outfit- an old Briarwood shirt with his name on the back and a pair of red plaid pajama pants that hardly fit her. "And you're not going to walk the streets of Westchester looking like a one night stand."
She refused to look at him because she knew he was right. She sighed, shook her arm out of his grip, and took a long, long sip of her iced coffee. Plovert had gotten this order right too, it seemed.
"What would you like to talk about then?" Massie asked after swallowing, looking at him expectantly.
Alicia, on her other side, was slowly but surely eating her breakfast.
"Nothing too serious- wouldn't want anyone getting the wrong idea about friendship or anything," he teased, a familiar twinkle in his eye. "How about… how was your night before, you know, this whole thing happened?" He waved a hand at Alicia, smirking when she stared back indignantly.
"I am not a thing!"
"You were much more than a thing last night," he agreed easily. "You were a disaster."
"Oh my god," Alicia moaned, slumping in her seat. "Was I really that bad?"
"Well," Kemp said pleasantly, reminding Alicia of Massie earlier that morning, "let's see… the first time I've interacted with you in years and you puked all over my front step."
"Oh my god."
Massie slapped her hand on the table. "I totally forgot to clean that last night."
"No worries. I threw it out."
"Actually Derrick threw it out," Plovert corrected, "but same thing."
"And I managed to get the stain out of your shoe," Kemp told Alicia.
She frowned. "You cleaned my shoes?"
"Yeah, I had time. They don't let me play Injustice anymore because I quote-unquote cheat. Which is a damn lie."
"It's not a lie," Chris snapped. "We just can't figure out how you do it."
Kemp shrugged. "Back to the matter at hand, though: how was the football party?"
Alicia mirrored his actions, smiling without showing her teeth. "Don't remember."
"Fantastic," he muttered, elbowing Chris, who stood to throw his garbage out. "Glad Mass was there to get you here in one piece."
Mass? Alicia mouthed. Massie pressed her lips into a tight line, shaking her head once. She didn't get it either. "What do you mean 'in one piece'?" she questioned aloud.
"The football team apparently puts, like, hard drugs in their drinks," Massie trilled, beyond annoyed at this fact. "You know, so they can date-rape unsuspecting girls."
Alicia blinked. "People actually do that? I thought that was just a thing Kristen's mom told us to frighten us into not going to parties when we were thirteen."
"Not like that worked," Plovert muttered, most likely remembering the amount of Friday and Saturday night ragers they snuck into because they knew Harris Fisher and the older Harrington siblings. "But yeah. They do- or that's what we heard, at any rate- and when you came in like that, well…" He lifted a shoulder, scratching his eyebrow to keep from looking so concerned.
"That's really uncool," Alicia said. "I can't believe… do you think… what would have happened to me if we split up?"
"Where would I go?" Massie asked around a mouthful of bagel.
Alicia scrunched up her face in thought. "Weren't you supposed to meet Landon?"
Kemp and Plovert shared a look. "Landon Crane?" the former asked. "From ADD?"
"It was… a possibility," Massie responded vaguely. "And I'm not too stressed about missing him. I'd rather you alive and well, not somewhere drowning in your puke or anything. A boy isn't worth it. Besides." She sniffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "It's not like he texted me or anything. Claire was the one to tell me about him being there and looking for me."
"I can't believe he went to a BOCD party." Plovert whistled lowly. "That takes guts."
It was no surprise the ADD crowd didn't hang out with the BOCD kids- it was a matter of pride, rivalries, and money, so when a kid did venture out into their territory, regardless of the territory it was, it was a big deal. And this was supposed to be the biggest deal of them all, Queen Bee Massie Block and soccer captain Landon Crane, but…
"They have a thing, Massie and Landon," explained Alicia, whispering loudly.
Plovert nodded, but Kemp frowned and Massie caught on to this.
"Had is a better word for it," she said. She wasn't sure why she was telling these two boys this before she even told her friends, but Alicia was right there, and… "It was a summer thing and summer is over now. I have better things to do than juggle a relationship with a boy from another school."
"You told me literally last week that you really liked him!" Alicia gasped out, almost knocking her drink over. She saved it at the last second, just a little bit of light-colored coffee pooling around the cup.
Massie quirked an eyebrow. "Feelings are fickle things," she mused wisely.
Alicia stared at her and Massie stared back, hoping she was keeping her face as neutral as possible. What was she supposed to say? Yeah, I was super into him and then I showed up here and realized I'd rather be ignored by a boy that's no good for me instead? Yeah, like that would fly with Alicia. They weren't even supposed to be at Kemp Hurley's. They were supposed to have gone to the dumb football victory party, Massie was supposed to kiss Landon Crane and agree to be his girlfriend, and any thought of Derrick Harrington was supposed to disappear.
It'd been two years and yet…
Massie shook her head, smiled, and blurted, "Kristen made out with Dempsey Solomon."
"No!"
"She texted me and asked if I still had a crush on him, and I'm like, girl in what world-"
"She made out with Dempsey Solomon?" Alicia repeated.
"I mean, I don't actually know. Here, let me read you the messages…"
"'Buying you that Michael Kors bomber jacket you want as an apology gift anyway.'" Plovert choked on a laugh. "What a considerate friend."
"I know, right?" Massie dropped her phone to the table. "I didn't even like him! I said he was cute in passing one time. Imagine all the clothes we'd have to buy Alicia if-"
"Oh, shut up!" Alicia threw her balled up napkin at Massie's face. "Is it a crime to admire the art that walks our halls?"
"Art!" Massie chortled. "Tell me what museum we attend classes in, please. Is it the Met? The MoMA? What kind of art is it? French? Italian? Rus- stop throwing things!"
Hours later found Massie and Alicia still at Kemp's house, the two of them curled up in a heap on the couch, watching Despicable Me 2 of all things ("What?" Plovert demanded defensively. "This is a quality film.") and eating shrimp lo mien with chopsticks.
Alicia had taken a nap, woke up, forgot where she was, accidentally kicked Plovert in the shoulder, and didn't throw up for the rest of the day.
Massie sent a snap (of her and Alicia's sleeping form with her favorite flower crown filter- alive and well, it read, with the upside down smiley) to Dylan (wtf is that Kemp Hurley's living room), Kristen (phew i'll stop the funeral preparations), and Claire (uh text a girl next time maybe).
She responded back yes lmao tell you later, tysm, and oooooops ;)
Twenty minutes after the movie ended and luckily before Alicia could drop an entire thing of wonton soup on the living room floor, Kemp ushered them into his Jeep, dropped Plovert off at his sister's dance recital, let Alicia play Sorry Not Sorry by Demi Lovato seven consecutive times, and then all but shoved her out of the passenger seat when they made it to the Block estate.
"Thanks for today," Alicia said, arms full of outfit and shoes.
"Anytime, Al," Kemp replied, uncharacteristically kind, "you know that."
Alicia smiled, this bright thing against her tanned face, mascara smudges under her waterline and twenty-four hour lipstick still stuck to her mouth. "We're not friends," she replied fondly, following Massie up the walkway.
"Nope, not at all," Kemp called after them, backing out of the long driveway. "And I'll want my clothes back!"
"We'll see," Massie shouted back, lifting a hand to see him off.
.
The next week at school, to the fascination of the entire student body, Kemp and Plovert slid into the empty seats at their lunch table.
"Not friends, remember?" Alicia reminded them, scooting over to make more room for Kemp and his gigantic tray of food.
He plucked a grape tomato off her plate, popped it in his mouth, and grinned. "Didn't anyone tell you? I'm not very good at listening."