Disclaimer: I'm Lisi Harrison in disguise. :P
If there was a list of the ten top things Derrick Harrington would never do, serenading outside his ex girlfriend's house would be number one.
Yet, when Massie Block opened her window one night, there he stood, doing exactly what no one expected him to do.
"Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer," Derrick belted out, standing in the Block's neatly trimmed grass. A single red rose was in his hand, and Massie rubbed her amber, cat-like eyes. She had to be dreaming. Derrick was plenty of things- cute, athletic, funny, and a total HART- but never described as romantic. Of all the Briarwood soccer boys, Cam was the designated lover boy- not Derrick. Then why, Massie wondered, was he standing in her front yard, singing Boys Like Girls' Thunder?
"Do you know you're unlike any other? You'll always be my thunder. And I said, your eyes are the brightest of all the colors. I don't want to ever love another. You'll always be my thunder. So, bring on the rain… and bring on the thunder." Derrick held out the rose, waiting for Massie to react.
Little did he know, she couldn't. Derrick Harrington was the one boy who rendered her comebackless, made the back of her knees tingle, and the only boy who had broken her heart.
"Derrick," she started, her face showing no emotion, "do I look like Simon Cowell?" Derrick looked stricken; after he sang to her in the middle of the night, after risking being grounded until college, after trying to win her back, she was just going to insult him?
"No," he replied, "but you sure act like him!" Derrick ground the flower underneath his nike-clad foot and ran away, leaving Massie Block alone in the darkness.
-o-
"Psychiatrists have nothing on Starbucks," Massie mused, sipping her favorite kind of therapy- a refreshing, mint chocolaty chip frappuccino. For once, the alpha was solo; she had come to the Westchester not to shop, but to think. Rained poured down on the mall's roof, each drop sounding like a tiny explosion. Yet, despite the obvious absence of the sun, she donned oversized Diors- the closest thing to spy wear with a designer logo.
Her palm pilot lay on the table in front of her, but instead of her infamous in/out lists, a new kind of list filled the screen.
Derrington vs Dempsey
HART / HART
Funny / Sweet
Star goalie / Charity & theater involved
Unable to decide, Massie slammed her palm pilot shut, laying her head down on the sticky Starbucks table. A few days ago, she thought Dempsey was the one for her. Now, she had no idea which Mr. Right was the right choice.
A familiar voice caused her to lift her head up, and she identified it immediately: trailing behind his mom, juggling a hackey sack, was none other than Derrick Harrington. Massie gripped her gold charm bracelet, mustering all her courage, and stood from the plastic chair. "Derrick!" she called, following him. Other than the fact that he dropped his hackey sack, he gave no sign of hearing her at all. He walked with his mother out the door, Massie pursuing close behind. "Derrick!" she yelled again, raising her voice over the deafening thunder. Mascara tracks streaked down her cheeks, and Derrick didn't know if it was caused by rain or tears. Either way, he spun around, face-to-face with Massie.
"You obviously care about me if you risked your outfit to talk to me," he told her, pointing to her soaked clothes. She laughed, a tinkling sound that made Derrick's heart soar. Even though the skies were cloudy, it was finally clear to Massie who to choose.
"Derrick, I just wanted to tell you," she replied softly, "Dempsey isn't my thunder. You are." She kissed him on the lips as the storm rumbled in the distance.