This doesn't make sense. (:
And that's why I don't own the clique.
—
Chocolate
x
Blonde hair blue eyes pink lips bright smile. Claire Lyons is a swirl of color, from her turquoise dresses right down to the green gummy bear pinched between her fingers.
—
Black hair brown eyes red lips dark smile. Alicia Rivera likes to think of herself as a mysterious seductress, and she rubs on the black eye shadow and smoothes dark lipstick across her lips to perfect her secretive smile.
—
Claire likes the color of Christmas.
Like the red cherries she pops into her mouth while waiting for Santa on the night before Christmas.
Like the green mistletoe that dangles from the window by the fireplace.
Like the yellow twinkling lights that wound around the tree decorated for Christmas.
Like the white of the snow Josh dumps on her head before getting pelted protectively by Massie and Dylan.
Like the chocolate of the cocoa she chooses to warm her pale cheeks.
Like the chocolate of his eyes before he winks at her and walks off with Alicia.
—
"Maybe we need a break."
He looks into Alicia's eyes and all he sees is wet, shimmering orbs the color of cold frozen chocolate.
No, she would have argued if he brought this up. Pecan nuts. Everybody loves pecan nuts.
Everybody loves pecan nuts, but Josh Hotz prefers plain old chocolate, what used to be Alicia Rivera's eyes.
—
Spicy chocolate, she says, putting on a brave smile. I'm spicy chocolate.
But then she thinks of colorful gummies and sweet strawberries and vanilla blushes, the things that make up Claire Lyons, and her eyes slit into envious squints and her smile crumples.
—
"Do you have a minute?"
"We need to tawk."
"It's about us."
"It's about you."
"I really can't pretend anymore."
"I'm sick of this."
"I really like you—"
"Because he really likes you—"
"—and I need to hear that you like me too."
"—when he really should be liking me."
There's a reason Claire Lyons prefers Twizzlers to chocolate. Colorful sticks of pure bliss, she could eat them day and night and not feel sick at all.
Compared to rich, melt-in-your-mouth, Belgian truffles that Alicia and Josh prefer, Claire isn't worthy; isn't good enough, she's never really good enough.
—
It's no surprise to Alicia when Josh knocks on her door to give her a late gift in the form of a kiss that tastes like chocolate.
He looks at her, not really like the same way he used to, and smiles, but it's an effort. "Claire doesn't want to be with me."
Alicia searches for a smile, or maybe warm clouds in his eyes, but all she sees is wet, shimmering orbs the color of cold frozen chocolate.
fin
—
oh, and this is for aussie, underpants and amoi.
merry christmas.
