So I know I really should be working on Five Minutes of Fame, but this idea came after reading Kristen and is stuck in my head.
Disclaimer: If I owned the Clique, I'd have a lot more money.
It's just too little too late…
"Fawn Elizabeth Armstrong." The bleached blonde, spray tanned woman glared hotly at her fifteen year old daughter. Steam shot out of her over accessorized earlobes, and Fawn half expected the sheet of paper in her mother's manicured hands to burst into flames. She wished it would; that paper held all the evidence Mrs. Armstrong needed to ground Fawn until she was forty. Columns of letters, all written in blood red ink, spelled out her crime: two D's, four F's, and one lonely A in gym. It was a weight in Fawn's hands as she surrendered it to her mom, and in her mother's it was a lethal weapon. In her teacher's possession, it was a simple six week progress report, but to the Armstrongs, it was anything but simple.
"You do realize you have less than three weeks to get your grades up?" Fawn's mother finally spat out, her knuckles white from clutching the paper in a death grip. "That if you don't get at least a 65 in all your classes, you'll fail the ninth grade?" Fawn lowered her emerald eyes to the kitchen floor, staring at the ivory tiles as if each one was a miniature television. A strand of sun-kissed blonde hair was wound tightly around her finger, and her thick brown lashes were wet. Mrs. Armstrong paced the room, muttering under her breath, oblivious to her daughter's distress.
"It's that boy's fault. She spends too much time with him, and not enough on homework. He's a bad influence on her; he was held back. And his driving!" She clicked her tongue and shook her head in disgust. Her snakeskin heels slapped the floor with every angry step she took, stomping the ground to beat of Fawn's heart.
"No, Mom! Chris didn't do anything. It's my fault for not paying attention. I'll work harder, I promise!"
"My decision is made. You are forbidden to see Chris until your report card comes out in three weeks." Her eyes, identical to her daughter's, narrowed. "And if I find out you're with him behind my back, you can bet I'll file a restraining order against him." She spun on her heel and strode out of the kitchen, Fawn's progress report laying unharmed on the marble countertop.
"You should've caught on fire," Fawn mumbled, hating the sheet of paper.
-x-
"I'm sorry, Chris, but I can't go out with anyone who loves their horse more than me," Fawn never thought she'd be lying through her teeth to her boyfriend of more than two years. Chris Abley, Leonardo DiCaprio look-alike and Briarwood's favorite bad boy, stood across from her in the cramped stable, his ocean blue eyes tearing up. She casually slipped on her oversized Calvin Klein sunglasses, not to shield herself from the sun but to shield her own watering eyes from him. She slowly moved her hands up to her neck, unclasping the silver locket Chris had given her last Christmas.
"That's not true!" Chris answered, pleading with Fawn just as she had with her mother the day before. "I admit, I love Tricky, but I love you just as much. Please believe me." Fawn choked back tears as she dropped the necklace into his hands.
"Too little too late, Chris." She coolly quoted her favorite song and sped out of the barn, hay flying after her. Chris could never know the real reason why she broke up with him; telling him that her mother made her, that she was failing the ninth grade, and that it was "all his fault" would make her feel dumber than she already was.
Her life was officially over.
Review please. :)