No. Stop reading. Seriously stop. Somehow...I don't know how it happened, don't hurt me, I ended up writing a Cassie. It wasn't intentional, it just...happened. SORRY! I'M SORRY.
Cassie fans, enjoy. Massington fans, sit in the corner and regret this story like me.
She perched daintily on a gray stone by the riverside, pencil gripped tightly in one hand, sketching pad in the other. The wind blew her locks into her face and she batted them away to reveal squinty amber eyes and furrowed eyebrows deep in concentration.
He walked along the banks of the river, pulling out the reeds and tossing them into the flowing water, watching them rush down the waves. His hands were buried deep in his jean pockets and he kicked stones along the way as he walked.
"Massie?" he asked curiously. What would Massie Block be doing by the river? Wouldn't she much rather be at the Westchester?
Startled by the sudden noise in the quiet atmosphere, she jumped a mile into the air, book and pencil flying out of her hands.
"Cam?" she asked, shaking out of her state of shock.
"Wha—" he began, picking up her things for her. Stopping at the pencil-filled page, his mouth dropped open in surprise. It was covered in a beautiful landscape scene of the river, so real he could almost imagine the rush of the soothing river, the chirping of the birds on the side.
"Don't tell anyone," she commanded, but softly and very un-Massie-like.
"It's…amazing. You're like, really, really good at like—" he couldn't put together comprehensible words. Massie Block—the harsh Queen Bee of Octavian Day—was also Picasso in disguise?
"Thanks," she ducked her head shyly. Ducked her head? Shyly?
"So… you come here a lot?" he asked, motioning at the river.
"Yeah, it's like my relaxation spot," she replied.
"Oh, I thought you're relaxation spot was the maa-aalll," he drew out the word, long and nasally, imitating the way Alicia said it.
She burst out laughing, hitting him on the shoulder.
"So what're you doing here?" she questioned.
"Pretty much the same thing…uncoiling from a long, hard day." He walked towards the flat gray rock, and she scooted over to make room for him. He sat down; locking his hands behind his head then leaned back against the tree.
"What happened today?" she looked genuinely concerned. He blinked twice; would the real Massie Block please stand up?
"I'm not a total bitch all the time," she said, chuckling at his stunned face, "I'm actually kind of human sometimes."
"The way you made Lily Claiborne break down crying today made you seem real human." He answered sarcastically.
"Oh, that was her name?" a concerned look passed over her face, if only for a second, but she quickly waved it away and repeated questioning him, "What happened today?"
"Claire Lyons is what happened today." He sighed in disgust. Massie didn't answer, but continued to stare at him intently. "She just so annoying I want to bash her face in, I mean honestly, how many ways can I guy say 'I don't want to date you, so leave me alone.'?"
"Hmm," a small grunt from Massie was all he got.
"Anyways, so I'm walking out from Home-Ec, and she walks up to me all teary, so fake I wanted to vomit, and she says 'Cam, why are you ignoring me?' Do I really need to answer that? I just felt like saying 'Claire are you shitting me? You're a bitch and you annoy the hell out of me.'" His face was turning red, and his blue-and-green eyes were almost bulging out of their sockets.
"Whoa, whoa, calm down, Cam," Massie said soothingly, rubbing his back.
"Anyways, that's enough about me. How was your day?"
"Bad," she said, eyes downcast.
"Am I allowed to ask?" He questioned cautiously.
"Alicia tells me that I'm once again slipping. Claire tells me if you and she aren't dating by next week, she's committing suicide. Kristen says that the Sirens are never going to beat the Bobcats or whatever, so she can't go shopping with me for the rest of the month." She frowned, "And of course, I suffer from everyone else's problems."
"Hey, don't worry about it," he reassured her, not sure how everyone's issues were affecting her, "we're here to relax anyways, aren't we?"
"I guess," she answered unconvincingly.
"Let's go skinny-dipping," he suggested with a twinkle in his eyes.
"I knew horny Cam was going to show up." She tilted her head back, laughing.
"Just swimming?"
"I'm wearing a sixteen hundred dollar dress."
"Dip our feet?"
"Do you know how much these Manolos cost?"
"Skip rocks?" he asked desperately.
She nodded; after all, skipping rocks was harmless enough.
Scouring the banks for smooth, flat rocks, the pair crouched side by side, brushing the dirt off rocks. Once a sufficient amount of rocks lay in a pile on the grass, they began to skip rocks.
"God! I can't skip the rock more than twice," she moaned stamping her foot in frustration.
"Here, like this." He wrapped his arms around her, demonstrating the correct way to hold the rock and flicked their wrists. Once, twice, three times, four, five.
"I did it! I did it! FIVE TIMES! Did you see it? Did you see it?" she jumped up and down like a giddy four-year old.
He didn't answer her; he could still feel his skin tingling from where he had been making contact with her and he was starting to feel light-headed.
"Cam..." she was waving a hand in front of his face.
"Oh, sorry," he shook his head, "Look I've got to go."
Cam's heart skipped a beat as he watched her face drop in disappointment.
"You'll have to call me so we can—" hang out? Chill? Vent our problems to each other? "—skip rocks."
"Yeah, I'd like that." Massie smiled.
Always, Michelle.