First fanfic ever. Yikes. Bites finger nails nervously.

You've seen it all. Massie, Derrick, Cam, Claire, Dylan, Kristen, Alicia, even Chris Plovert. You've never seen Westchester in a point of view quite so… cute and fuzzy.

Disclaimer: Don't own the Clique.

"No one understands! Well, except for you." Massie sweeps her long hair into a ponytail.

"Derrick wants to…well, you know. And if I don't he'll tell everyone I'm a prude." She angrily slams the brush back down onto the table.

I run obediently to her side but she hardly acknowledges me. She continues to rant while rearranging her closet, from darkest to lightest.

"So apparently, he's told anyone who will listen that he's gonna 'get some' tonight. I mean, as much as I like him, I refuse to be anyone's play toy." Her elegantly arched eyebrows crinkle together, and she begins pacing back and forth in her dimly lit closet.

I jump excitedly at the word toy. She chuckles quietly, "not that kind of toy."

And then what?, I think. She is silent for a minute, and then continues.

"Well, I know for a fact Alicia and Josh have definitely gone that far. Probably Dylan and Kristen, too. Definitely not Kuh-laire, but I mean…she's Claire for god's sake. She has those Christian morals and shit. If they find out I'm still virgin they'll tell the whole world, and I'll be out faster than those rubbery foam clogs." Massie has given up organizing her closet and has begun painting her toenails.

Well don't just do it because everyone else is, I think.

"Oh wait, there's more." She grimaces, and continues in a whisper, "Even Strawberry McAdams, the horny little skank that looks like she just dumped Kool-aid Jammers on her head has been hooking up. It's just not fair!"

I jump on her bed and lay down, looking at her with sad brown eyes, wishing I could tell her I understand every word. Wishing I could comfort her as her best friends do.

If you want to hook up with Derrick so bad, why don't you? I wonder silently.

As if she could read my mind, she turns and looks straight at me, "Well, I guess I've never told you this, but I'm actually scared to death about….you know, sex." Her voice has dropped down to an almost non-existent whisper, "like maybe Derrick's not the right guy…maybe…I should wait until after I'm married."

Massie, it's your choice. You should make the right decision.

"Oh shit, oh shit," Massie's voice cuts the awkward silence, "He's gonna be here soon. What should I do?"

She looks at me expectantly, then sprays a mist of Chanel no. 5 into the air. Even from where I'm sitting on her bed, I can tell she has just regained confidence.

"That's it. I'm telling him no. I'm going to tell him I want to wait." Her eyes sparkle with determination and her mouth curls into a mischievous smile. If I weren't so familiar with her "dressed-to-kill" face, I would have been deathly afraid. Instead I bark eagerly at her, It's go time, Massie. She dashes to her closet, and in three minutes flat, is dressed from head to toe in a fashion week-ready outfit. The sparkles from her minidress glint and shimmer in the setting afternoon sun, and her hair sets in perfect curls around her resolute face. As she heads toward the door, she scoops me up and kisses me on the nose.

"You're the greatest, Bean."

Eh. Not my worst. Pretty much short and sweet. But please, please, please comment.

Love it? Hate it? Wanted to throw darts at me because it was so terrible?

Tell me :

And please, please, please don't "omg cute" it. Tell me what you liked. Tell me what you didn't.

Thanks bunches,

Michelle