Author's Note: this is like, part 1 out of probably 2-3 chapters. let me know if you want more? reviews make my day and this is months-old, but. here you go.
"Baby," Massie says, "you know I love you." She's got five tally marks on her arm, a red cup of something in her hand, but her eyes are focussed and her voice is clear.
Alicia laughs a bit, sinking back against the wall. "I've never loved anyone like I love you," she tells her, voice fragile.
The quiet of the bathroom, in comparison to the aggressive noise of the party, makes them feel like they've got all the time in the world in this small, isolated space. Maybe that's why Massie reaches out, in a half-drunk haze, to cup Alicia's jaw, gentler than she's ever been.
Today 9:37 AM
Bestie With A Booty: where are you?
Me: im omw
Bestie With A Booty: so you haven't left yet
Me: sweatie... of course not :)
Bestie With A Booty: of course not
Bestie With A Booty: i'm going to order without you
Me: dont u fucking dare
Me: im /coming/ chill
Today 9:50 AM
Me: youre such a fucking bitch
Bestie With A Booty hearted your text.
Bestie With A Booty: sorry?
Me: im here u dickwad
Bestie With A Booty: hmm so was i
Me: hate u
Bestie With A Booty: :*
Bestie With A Booty: if you can make it to my house, i have starbs and food
Me: i s2g mass
massieblock
massie block
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ewa | lincoln stables | sc: massieblock
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Liked by alicia_rivera, kristengreggory19, and 1379 others
massieblock date day with bae #brunchisalifestyle
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alicia_rivera love u bb
derrickbharrington are u dating yet
"We're hella cute," Alicia grins, peering at her phone while simultaneously applying a thick mud mask. Dressed in only a short, red silk robe, hair all twisted up into an elaborate top knot, all miles of smooth, tanned skin and shapely curves, she looks fit to walk the Victoria's Secret runway.
Massie, on the other hand, is wearing a white silk bathrobe over a powder blue slip dress. Her mud mask is already firmly in place, limiting the movement of her mouth as she says, "Of course we are." Her phone buzzes with a notification, and she opens Snapchat to a picture of Cam, shirtless and hauling himself out of a pool. There's water everywhere. His abs are shining. He's definitely flexing, even though he's not looking directly into the camera. It would be too much for Massie's poor bisexual heart, except nothing is too much for Massie Fucking Block.
The Snap is captioned my bae is cuter than ur bae.
Massie Snaps back a picture of Alicia, face titled, fingertips stained dark with the face mask. Her jawline looks fucking impeccable. don't talk to me she types back, and sends it.
"Who are you texting?" Alicia asks, wiping her clean hands on a towel.
"Harrington." Massie motions for Alicia to follow her, and the other girl grabs her phone on the way out of the bathroom. Alicia curls up on the hanging egg chair, padded with white fur blankets and throw pillows. She's a pop of colour in Massie's crisp, white room. There's a metaphor in there, somewhere, but Massie isn't too keen on getting to deciphering it.
Her phone buzzes again as she sits on her bed, leaning against the headboard. It's another Snap from Derrick: Cam making a silly face at the camera this time. He's still shirtless, head turned towards the camera like his name was called. Massie has never seen him make that face in public.
"Stop texting Derrick," Alicia whines from the hanging chair. She tosses a pillow Massie's way. "Pay attention to me, bitch."
"You're so needy," Massie says without any real heat. She thumbs to the camera. Takes the perfect shot of Alicia sticking her tongue out. "And don't tell me you would pass up shirtless pictures of Cam."
"He's sending you shirtless pictures of Cam?" Alicia pops up. She's grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She still looks beautiful. "And you didn't share?" Massie raises an eyebrow, hitting send without looking. Because she's good at life like that.
"It's not my fault you're thirsty."
Alicia flips her off, and Massie smirks, reclining further against her stack of pillows. "Remember James Laughlin?" Alicia asks, smile a bit too bright to be genuine.
Massie narrows her eyes. Last summer, James Laughlin had been the apple of her eye. A group of East Westchester Academy students had gone to the beach, and Massie, in her most flattering bikini, had flirted with him and flaunted herself in front of James to no reaction. It had been incredibly frustrating. They don't speak of it, because Massie hates being reminded of times she'd failed.
She replies, "Remember every hot guy you've ever encountered?" with the most blank face she can make. Her phone buzzes again.
Derrington: not to be political but cammie is cuter than alicia
ME: you wish that cam would be cuter than alicia
Derrington: have u seen his fuckin jawline
Derrington: he looks like a cross between a gq model and a hipster
ME: so you snagged a phony gq model with the style of a shitty brooklyn hipster
ME: while i landed a victoria's secret angel with better taste than blake lively
Derrington: u mean that i got a calvin klein model & u got a knockoff adriana lima
It becomes A Thing, Massie and Derrick sending each other pictures Alicia and Cam. Derrick and Cam are, according to Kristen, five minutes away from fucking each other and then becoming official. Massie and Alicia have been semi-official for two years and counting now, and neither of them are particularly inclined to make the first move to do something about it.
It's not that Massie doesn't want to be in a relationship with Alicia. She's basically dating her best friend already. She had a crisis about this years ago, that shit's so last season, it's just. Different. New. Change overwhelms Massie a lot, for all that she's adaptable and a quick-thinker.
When she moved to England, she only lasted a year there before moving back to live with Inez and Isaac. Her parents are still an ocean away, but they Skype weekly and fly in for every holiday. England had just been too much for Massie, and it broke her in a way she'd never seen herself break before.
Dating Alicia, and the possible break up, might actually be worse.
So she sends Snaps captioned stuff like look at her and light of my life and, like, five thousand fire and dancing girl emojis. She's one hundred percent certain that Alicia doesn't know, that she's only aware Massie texts Derrick frequently but not about what.
does cam know? she asked, once, and Derrick sent her an angel emoji, followed by a string of monkeys covering their eyes. Massie took that as a no, and opened Snapchat again to look at yet another picture of Cam in his signature beanie and oversized leather jacket.
"Hey, Mass," Alicia begins, tentative. The girl in question looks up from a thick copy of Vogue, Gigi Hadid's face blown up on the cover. She raises an eyebrow. It's her perfected, nonverbal way of saying Yes, continue? in the most unnecessarily judgemental way possible. "Are you and Derrick dating?"
Massie's other eyebrow flies up to join the other. "Me and Derrick," she repeats, voice flat. Alicia looks at her. When she doesn't say anything else, she rolls her eyes.
"Uh, yes? You text him, like, all the time. Everyone is wondering."
The brunette's eyes narrow, brows lowering. "Who's everyone?"
Alicia makes a derisive sound. Like she can't believe Massie has to ask. "The girls. Olivia. Allie-Rose Singer, who was eavesdropping. Todd Lyons. Half of the Westchester PTA moms. Landon fucking Crane. Kemp Hurley." She doesn't say me, but Massie catches it anyway.
While it's fun to have everyone talking about her, and her alleged relationship, the allegations are all false and definitely not fair to Derrick or Cam. A few years ago, Massie wouldn't have given two shits about what Derrick thought. She would have just basked in the glory of publicity and admiration for her dating game. Now, she sighs, lowering her Gucci sunglasses to roll her eyes.
"You think I'd lower my standards to Derrick Harrington? What is this, grade seven?"
It's only because she's watching that she catches it: Alicia relaxing minutely. For all the double-sided friendship in middle school, and the way Alicia can flirt and charm her way into anything, whether that be a club or someone's pants, Massie knows her. Knows the limits of her leadership, the way she talks and laughs, what makes her tick. She catches the way Alicia's face softens, how her shoulders slump.
"He's hot," Alicia says. Shrugging. Casual.
Massie makes a clicking sound with her teeth, her self-proclaimed classier way of snorting. "And you say I'm the thirsty one in this friendship."
Alicia tosses a water bottle at her. Massie barely avoids it, and glares at her best friend, who smiles angelically in response.
"Are you a female dog in heat? No? Then why are you being such a fucking bitch?" she snaps. There's no real malice supporting her words.
"That's cold, Mass," she tells her, sticking out her tongue. She gets up and stretches, her tiny bikini bottoms riding lower and her triangle bikini top riding higher. Then, without warning, she jumps gracefully into the pool.
Massie, who expected that, doesn't even flinch. She did, however, eye up Alicia's toned legs and perfect ass as she was stretching. She's definitely the thirsty one in this friendship, she thinks, but it's not like she's ever going to admit it.
alicia rivera (alicia_rrivera)
i've got 5 star reviews from all my friends
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alicia rivera (alicia_rrivera) i lose a year of life whenever i see a person in a juicy tracksuit
Massie Block (themassieblock) alicia_rrivera i lose another decade every time you're an hour late to an event
alicia rivera (alicia_rrivera) okay but u love me anyway ;) themassieblock
Massie Block (themassieblock) you're lucky you're cute RT: alicia_rrivera okay but u love me anyway ;) themassieblock
Alicia, for once, wakes up earlier than Massie. She's the small spoon, because Massie will relinquish the position of big spoon only when she's blackout drunk, but she's become an expert at doing things while in the surprisingly strong cage of Massie's arms. She stretches out an arm blindly, groping for her phone.
When she turns it on, there's a list of notifications ranging from Kristen to Kemp. She ignores them all, eyeing the time, 10:34 AM, and wiggling out of bed without waking her best friend up. It's not like she misses Massie's arms around her, she tells herself, she just misses her warmth.
She wanders downstairs. It's late enough that her parents have left to work or socialize or whatever, and nobody else is around to care that she's in panties and an oversized men's silk button-down. It's the staff's day off, she remembers, checking in with the Kate Spade calendar that's pinned up in the kitchen.
She's only just made herself a cup of coffee when Massie comes downstairs, misty-eyed and loose-limbed from sleep.
"Hola," Alicia purrs. She leans into Massie's space a little bit, and is pleasantly surprised when Massie lets her wrap an arm around her waist, reeling her in closer to rest her cheek on top of the brunette's head. At 5'10", she's got a good height advantage over Massie, who tops out at 5'6". Not that Alicia lets her forget it.
Massie murmurs, "Morning," back to her. Her voice is unjustly smooth and clear for the morning. She presses a soft, lingering kiss to Alicia's cheek; lets Alicia close her eyes and bask in the easy affection. When she opens them, however, she narrows her eyes at the lack of coffee in her hand.
"You're a backstabbing bitch," she gripes, spinning around. Massie's only holding her with one arm now but falls away easily when Aiicia moves. One of Massie's hands comes back up to rest on Alicia's waist. The other hand is holding Alicia's coffee.
Her eyes are practically shining, all warm and morning-hazy. "Sweet talking me so early? What for?" she asks, taking a sip of from the mug. Her eyebrow raise is perfectly pointed. Alicia kind of hates her, she's so perfectly composed.
"I hate you," she tells her.
"No, you don't," Massie says, with all the certainty of a person who has, give or take, seven years of their friendship under her belt. "It's why you kept coming back, isn't it?"
"We don't talk about that," Alicia reminds her, voice sharp. God, her twelve-year-old self was cringey.
Massie laughs, a little mean, but it's mostly a kind sound. It's not an unusual laugh to hear from her. "You don't talk about it," she says, but any bite to the words is underlaid by her squeezing Alicia's waist.
Alicia rolls her eyes, leaning back against the counter, and pointedly doesn't reply. Massie drinks her coffee, and, even though it's almost eleven in the morning, the quiet of the kitchen makes them feel like they're the only ones awake.
ME: arewe going to kemps house party?
MASS: there's a party in nyc, hosted by some nyu & columbia kids
ME: whats happening then? does dylan have anything?
MASS: dylan's got nothing
MASS: hurley, though?
ME: all the jocks are going
ME: kristen's already been bullied into going by chris and kemp
MASS: if kris is going, we're going
Kemp Hurley's Thank Fuck School Is Done house party is fucking massive. The Hurley estate is already huge, they're old money, started in Virginia with start-up companies that expanded into an empire, and build private property in Westchester that now hosts students from ADD, EWA, and several prestigious single-gender institutes within the town.
Massie, Alicia, Kristen, Dylan, and Claire all arrive together. They pregamed at Massie's house before the party, and carried their own booze in. Massie likes lime vodka. Alicia has a flask of tequila. It's courteous around Westchester to bring alcohol, so they drop off a six-pack of beer. The good shit, not the crappy kind that the ADD kids brought.
They hang around each other for the majority of the night, gradually going from tipsy to drunk. Claire spots Layne, dressed in mom jeans and a tiny crop top and rainbow Converse, and goes to make out with her girlfriend. Dylan and Alicia lose in a game of beer pong to Kristen and Massie. Kemp himself swings by, drunk enough to openly kiss Kristen on the cheek and tell her how beautiful she looks. Dylan can't stop laughing.
"Shut up," Kristen says, blushing. She's got her hands twisted in the sleeves of her oversized denim jacket.
Massie smirks. "You didn't tell us you and Kemp were dating."
"We're not."
"Right, I meant: you didn't tell us you and Kemp were fucking."
Kristen looks either like she wants to murder Massie, or that she wants to spontaneously combust. Massie's smirk only grows. Alicia giggles behind her hand, and the blonde shoots her a betrayed look. Et tu, Brute? she mouths.
Alicia shrugs back, it's funny, I don't make the rules. "I need to go to the bathroom," she says outloud, running her tongue over her teeth carefully. She's not sure how her makeup's holding up. Kemp's house is lot more humid than she'd originally planned. "Anyone wanna come?"
"I'll come," Massie says. "Give me a moment." She promptly downs the rest of her cup, and takes their shared bottles of vodka and cranberry juice, refilling her cup. Alicia does another shot with Dylan, marks another tally on her arm, and takes a Belgian beer for the road.
As they make their way upstairs, leaving Kristen and Dylan to take care of each other, Massie mutters,"God, who are these people?" She's eyeing someone in bright pink jeggings distrustfully. The outfit might have looked fine, except the girl was so pale that the jeggings were blinding. And she had paired them with clashing suspenders, and a bucket hat. Massie hates bucket hats.
"ADD losers," Alicia shrugs, edging along the sides of the walls. "And college dropouts?" Massie's up front, all but dragging Alicia behind her.
She scoffs, "Like any college would accept them," which causes a tall, ruffled guy with a douchey seashell necklace to give her a dirty look. Massie gives him a frosty glare in return, and pushes past him.
When they finally make it to the bathroom, it's a ten-minute wait to get in. There's a handsy couple in front of them that Massie makes eye contact with exactly once, and then they're gone. Alicia lets out an unattractive snort, the alcohol making her unselfconscious, for once. Massie's face actually holds expression: she looks a little smug, a little delighted.
Finally, Cam Fisher walks out of the bathroom, nodding at them as he passes, and it's all theirs.
Alicia immediately crowds up against the bathroom counter. "Do I look good?" she frowns, examining the thick wing of her eyeliner.
Massie drawls, "When do you ever look good?" Alicia's head whips around, her mouth open in a perfect, glossy "o".
"Bitch," she says, vehement. "Rude."
Massie laughs a little, loose-limbed and relaxed. "Baby," she coos, "you know I love you." She sways a little closer, and Alicia laughs, sagging back against the bathroom wall. The bathroom is done in all chrome and marble, with tasteful royal blue accents. Alicia, in her tiny Alice + Olivia silver minislip and copper-bronze makeup, looks very out of place, but very sexy.
"I've never loved anyone like I love you," she tells her, unexpectedly honest.
Massie blinks twice in quick succession, long eyelashes fluttering against the highlighted curves of her cheekbones. There's something building in her chest, warm and fond, expanding down her ribcage and stomach. She feels a little dizzy, and a little reckless. Maybe that's why she steps closer, her free hand reaching out to cup Alicia's jaw.
Her best friend turns her head into it, careful, and they're both mindful of her makeup. Massie takes another step, and Alicia's head tips back against the wall so she can trail her fingertips down the column of her throat. Her touch is light. Gentle. Like Alicia will break at the press of something harder.
Her skin is soft under her hand, and the bathroom smells like designer perfume and alcohol.
They don't kiss the night of Kemp's party. Not in the bathroom anyway. Someone bangs on the door, and it swings open to reveal a pleading Allie-Rose Singer. They exit the bathroom, a little tangled in each other, and walk right into a game of Truth or Dare. They do get dared to makeout, sloppy and a little too risqué for Sober Massie's taste, but Drunk Massie doesn't care.
They go back to Massie's house at four in the morning, and sleept until noon. Massie wakes up first, and slowly eats her way through vegan waffles and French pressed coffee before Alicia wakes up.
Neither of them talk about last night, although what happened eats away at Alicia's stomach and Massie can't eat at all if she thinks about it too much.
"Wow," Derrick says, "you could cut the sexual tension with a knife." He's playing bartender tonight, dressed in a letterman jacket and Hugo Boss pants. It's a Harrington party - people sprawled out in his basement, playing beer pong or flip cup or Mario Kart. There's a rowdy game of Cards Against Humanity in the center of the spacious room. A Harrington party is always ultra chill, full of good alcohol and lazy entertainment.
Massie, in a pair of plaid, wide-legged Equipment trousers and a Cosabella mesh bodysuit, looks supremely stylish and unamused. "I don't know what you're talking about," she says primly, taking another sip of her White Russian. She doesn't look over at her best friends, who are part of the circle for Cards Against Humanity. "How are you and Cam?"
Derrick grins at her. "Subtle," he says. Massie arches an eyebrow, unimpressed, and waits. As she expects, Derrick lets the silence sit for a minute before giving in. "Good," he tells her. His grin is unrestrained. "Really good. I like him more than I should."
"You won't get your heart broken by Cam," Massie says, certain. Cam's too sweet for that, and too utterly devoted to Derrick. The worst he'd do is fuck Derrick up a bit, maybe ruin his taste for other men.
Derrick looks away. "I think I might break his," he confesses. "I fuck up too much. I just, I don't wanna fuck this up."
Massie thinks of Alicia: best friend, partner in crime, sexy, smiling, brilliant. "Yeah," she hums, "I know what you mean."