Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.

Author's Note: Pretty short, but this idea has been bouncing around in the old noggin for a while and I decided to let lose. Maybe I'll expand in another OneShot. Reviews are awesome. This is a futurefic, by the way.

Flawed Math

-A Clique OneShot by: Honour Society-

All her life, Massie Block had imagined the way the math equation that was her life would go. She'd graduate from OCD as Alpha and then proceed to be accepted to Westchester High based on grades so high Kristen would drool over if she knew about. After high school, Massie would spend four years at Yale, earning her degree in something chic like journalism or fashion marketing. While she was at graduate school, she'd meet the man of her dreams. They'd fall in love. Get married. Have two kids, a both and a girl, named Ella and Connor. Summer in the Hamptons. Be happy. The end. Roll the credits, play the theme song, file out of the theatre.

One thing she never figured into the equation?

Finding herself drawn to the man whore of the eighth grade.

As Massie towel-dried her hair because there was no hair dryer in their apartment, she pondered the state of her life and love. At the Block Estate, they had a heated towel rack. Here, in this dingy apartment in the Big Apple, there was barely a welcome mat. It was not exactly Buckingham Palace, to say the least. But she had him. Sure, he was hardly the ideal man. Hell, he wasn't even "an" ideal man. But he was hers. And for some reason, when they were together, it didn't matter how bushy his hair was or how much more experience he had. All that mattered was she couldn't help gazing into those grey-green eyes of his.

"Mass?" His voice called from the front room-slash-kitchen.

Lazily, she turned the white terry cloth towel into a makeshift strapless dress worthy of Stella McCartney's next runway show. Barefoot and fresh-faced, she pulled open the bathroom door and followed the sound of his moving around in the kitchen. The tap turned on and the blast of water made her shiver just a bit.

"Hey." Massie grinned at the sight of her boyfriend in a pair of jeans and a form-fitting t-shirt, trying to work the blender. "Need some help, genius?"

"Depends on what you want to help me with." He raised his dark eyebrows suggestively. "I've got this rash — "

"Ew! Thanks for the info!" She dissolved into a fit of giggles.

He loved it when she lost control, forgot about the cool "Massie Block" exterior she adopted when faced with most social settings. He loved how casually sexy she could be sometimes… He loved…her.

Tilting her slightly upturned chin towards the plastered ceiling, he brought her rosy lips to his in a spine-tingling kiss. Her fingers twisted pleasant knots in his hair. He toyed with the towel's fabric.

She pulled away abruptly, a cocky grin adorning her pretty face. "You have work to do."

"Do I?" He quirked an eyebrow.

His eyes never left her lips.

Massie Block never even thought to add Kemp Hurley to the equation.