cold
Massie thinks of his face before she tucks herself into her bed. It can't really be her bed, it's foreign and cold. The room's too big and too dark. Everything is made of bricks and unwelcoming chills. This is England.
The only thing that she identifies as home is his face. His dirty blonde hair reflecting sunlight as he races across a field; a scowl of determination plastered over a usually goofy smile. And then he scores and the team is crowding him and crowding him and Massie cannot see the boy she loves any longer.
A whimper is lost in the night. Massie pulls the sheets tighter across her slim body. It's been a month since landing in England and she still isn't used to this. She isn't used to the posh girls with their fake tans and streaks of makeup. She isn't used to the heavily accented insults coming her way. She isn't used to the starchy uniforms that make things hard to breathe.
She isn't used to not seeing Derrick.
Massie thought she was through. She thought she was done with all his games. All his soft glances at her; all his immaturity, but she's not.
She thinks she'll never be.
Because she's Massie and he's Derrick and opposites were made to attract.
chanel no. 9
Derrick swipes his hair out of his eyes and looks across the field. The grass leans slightly from the wind. He wishes he were a blade of grass.
Today he's not smiling. Cursing he tugs his soccer jersey over his head and lies back down, bare chested. The game wasn't one of his finer moments; he'd been berated by the coach for letting in more than one foul shot. How could Derrick let himself do that? The answer was fairly simple.
He kept scenting that stupid perfume Chanel No. 9. He could taste it's freshness on his tongue; it's floral scent seeping into his skin. Not that he wore perfume or Chanel no. 9. Just a simple girl wore it.
A simple girl who was actually not that simple named Massie Block.
Yeah, he still had a thing for the girl who turned his life upside down with a smile. Of course he wouldn't forget her. The boy had been so hurt when she'd left England, not even a goodbye from her. She had wanted to leave and Derrick hadn't wanted her to.
But what could he say when they both weren't speaking to each other? What could he say when he'd hooked up with her best friend behind her back? There were no words to be said.
Dammit, the perfume was stifling him. It was choking him into submission. It wanted him to see where he'd gone wrong, what he could've done differently. And then a million images tore a path through his brain.
In his mind he could picture Massie cheering loudly for him, for Derrick as he saved yet another goal. Massie, her head turned slightly towards him giving him a mysterious glance. And Massie, looking so beautiful, sitting under the tree.
But he's Derrick and she's Massie and he's heartbroken and she's in England.
And they say opposites attract.
opposites
The thing about Derrick and Massie? Total opposites.
She likes her brand name, her makeup, and her schemes. She covers up her insecurities and pretends like nothing fazes her, but they're all lies. Everything she does is manipulated, carefully calculated and done with doubt.
Now he's easy going. He doesn't care if a breeze messes up his hair, if he gets grass on a polo shirt. All he wants is a slice of life and adventure and maybe romance and friends. He isn't swayed by what society wants him to be.
They're both scared though. They are delightfully scared of each other, of first loves and first kisses. It's awkward, nervous, palm sweating and so, so sweet, the way they think of each other.
But Massie's in England and Derrick's still stuck in their old town. They both grow older as time passes and they both forget some memories. They forget what it's like to be 14 again, innocent and unsure and confused and angry. They forget about always wishing, wishing, wishing for a fairy tale and a happy ever after ending.
As time passes Massie is still Massie and Derrick is still Derrick.
Massie still wears Chanel No. 9 and Derrick still wiggles his butt.
In short, they are both still opposites.
reality
It's spring break in England.
Stomping up the stairs to her loft room she throws open the sheets over the windows and looks across the entire sky. It's been two hard years, two years of tears and troubles and bullies.
But Massie is finally ready. She's finally ready to go back to where she left her heart, her friends and one certain boy.
She strips herself of the uniform, all stark white and navy blue and clingy and horrid. Massie's so excited she doesn't care if she looks like a slob. She throws on a skin tight maroon sweater and combs her chestnut waves from her face. On goes a pair of denim shorts.
She's so, so pale. She's taller than she was two years ago. In the mirror she sees a girl. A hopeful, excited girl.
That's the real Massie Block under all her layers of armour.
"Massie! Your flight leaves in an hour! Where are you?"
Downstairs her mother calls her.
Massie collapses into herself. Her face, so open and welcoming and naïve just a few moments ago, hardens into a mask of pride. Her eyes narrow. She's not ready to let herself go, just yet.
Grabbing the pre-packed suitcase from the corner of her room she flies downstairs and into the limo which will take her to the airport.
She doesn't know what to expect. Will he be waiting for her?
But she's Massie and she's full of self-doubt and insecurities and flaws and she really, honestly, doesn't know what to expect anymore.
back
"Have you heard? Massie's back!" Claire yells, stepping into the Marvil's living room full of girls lunging around.
Alicia, Dylan and Kristen all open their eyes in shock. Massie was back? The alpha of the pretty committee was back. Their missing puzzle piece was back. The girl who tied everything together was finally back.
"What? When'd she get here?" Dylan asks, sitting up.
"She got here this morning. She'll be here anytime soon," Claire says.
In the Marvil's kitchen the boys were making themselves something to eat. They pause as they hear Claire say the magic word: Massie.
All eyes turn to Derrington.
"I'm going to throw up," he mutters. He turns his back and plods towards the bathroom.
Because he's Derrick and she's Massie and he never should have gotten his hopes up and she would never love him back.
and forth
The doorbell rings. Shifting from foot to foot Massie awkwardly stares at the red door in front of her. How would things turn out? Would they have new jokes, new boyfriends? What would happen?
Then the door opens -
-and she's face to face with Derrick Harrington.
"Oh," she blushes and stammers.
Her face is a light pink. The boy pauses when he takes her in. She's a bit taller now, but he's still taller. Her skin is milky pale, his a dark tan from his days of soccer. She smells like Chanel No. 9.
Massie is beautiful.
"Hey," Derrick says lamely.
"Yeah," Massie squeaks and blushes, again.
"I was just going," he ducks his head.
"Oh," she looks away.
He brushes past her and their hands meet for a second. Lightning bolts erupt in their palms. She shivers as he keeps going. Massie turns to watch him walk away from her. His blond hair getting long, his ear tips tinged red by the cold. His broad shoulders and shoulder blades stuck out from under his thin sweat shirt.
"You're going to catch a cold!" She calls. Massie curses herself. Can't she just let him walk away?
He stops mid-step. She holds her breath.
And he keeps walking.
She stumbles into the doorway and pulls her suede boots off. Its spring, but the wind is gusty and chilling.
There are eight pairs of eyes on her. Massie smiles widely, staring at her childhood friends in front of her. Claire, Dylan, Kristen, Alicia, Kemp, Chris, Cam and Josh all smile back.
She's hurting, but she'd never show it.
Massie is back and it feels so good, but bad. Until she remembers Derrick, of course. He should have been here with them. He should have been the first to greet her. She misses him so, so much.
An overwhelming feeling rushes up and she doubles over.
"I need to throw up," she mutters.
Because she's Massie and he's Derrick and she should have known he'd never wait for her.
this sucks but its for my bbg dan ilysm
reviews?