1. simplicity.

A little girl, around the age of two or three, was sitting at the edge of a pool that day, many, many years ago. Her little feet were splashing in the cold water that was glittering as brightly as her cornflower blue eyes. Pieces of her bleach blonde hair stuck to her neck and a flowery, pink bathing suit hugged her baby belly. Her glistening orbs swept over the contents of the pool before her, as if she was making sure that nothing had disappeared before her eyes. All about her there were tons of toys, scattered next to her; her favorite Barbie doll was floating in the chlorinated pool, it's hair spread around it like a lion's mane and only it's pants on. The Barbie's top, shoes and purse were lying by the little girl who was too lazy to finish dressing her toy. Beside her, a dirty bucket, shovel, a torn soccer ball and a few figurines were getting beaten down upon by the sun's rays.

She was sitting alone since all the other kids had graduated on to the adult pool, leaving her in charge to guard the precious baby pool. She would sit there like she owned the place, her eyes shooting looks to anyone who came near her sanctuary. She never gave a single thought to the black fence; the black fence that surrounded her and stood around her like a sentinel, never allowing her out. To her it was just a part of life, just a part of life until one day someone showed her otherwise and she realized just how trapped she was.

She was sitting with her legs in the water and the rest of her body laying on the concrete, facing up at the clear blue skies and the trees that clouded it, her eyes shut, when she heard the sound of the gate opening with a crying boy being pushed in, little did she know that this would change her life forever.

"Cam, listen-" The boy's mother desperately tried to calm him down, she had a touch of a Southern accent and it rolled gently off her tongue as she put a hand to her son's shoulder. Her long, curly, black hair fell around her, shielding her face from the sun as she bent down to her little boy's height. "Cam, baby, I'll be sitting right over there at those chairs. See? Right there. Now why don't you go play in the pool."

The girl opened one eye and watched the boy from the corner of it. He was crying and his fists were curled around the bars, shaking at them as he screamed. The girl scowled, why was he crying? She watched as his mother settled down on a beach chair a little ways away from the black gate.

He must be lonely, she thought. She picked up her favorite Barbie who was now wearing a shirt, with no pants, and got up, skipping towards the boy with an ounce of courage. "Do you want to play with me?"

The little boy, without even pausing, shoved her to the ground. She landed with a thud on her bottom, shocked, she blinked and then, as if just realizing how upset she was, she began to cry hysterically. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she cried and cried and cried, louder than the boy, into the humid summer air.

The little boy had stopped crying, immediately, and he watched, immersed, as the girl's tears hit the hot concrete, but the little girl did not notice. She was too focused on the pain-no not the physical pain-of being rejected so harshly.

Minutes passed as the girl wailed as much as she could before she had nothing left in her. She brushed a few tears roughly from her face with the back of her hand, her pudgy fingers still rapped tightly around her doll. She shoved some of her blonde hair out of her eyes and then looked up at the boy who's eyes were red from tears and was staring intently at her. She tilted her head to the side, he had funny eyes, one was blue and the other green, before she could comment he mumbled, "I'm sorry."

She tilted her head more, "Why'd you push me?" She crossed her arms and stared at him through narrowed eyes.

His eyes wandered to the adult pool that was filled with kids splashing around and laughing. He frowned, his arms knitted over his pale skin, "I want to get out of here, that's why."

The girl got up and placed her hands on her hips in a very mature manner, "One day, when we are big, we can swim in the grown-up pool. Not now." He glared at her and plopped down on the ground and she sat next to him, her fingers pulling at the grass that had managed to grow between the cracks of the ground. She looked up at the adult pool, with more intrigue and then looked back at the boy. "My name's Claire."

"I'm Cam."


For the rest of the summer the two found each other's company, playing together inside the black gate. Their ideas rubbed off on one another, even at such an early age, and soon they wanted the same thing; to be out of that baby pool which had now become so claustrophobic and seemed to shrink with each passing day.

Their mothers also became friends that summer. The families lived three houses down from one another. Before long, fall came and the trees were sucked of their color, the pool they loved so dearly becoming too chilly to swim in. The 'big' kids went off to school. That was the fall their father's built them a treehouse, over in the woods, a few blocks down. It was sturdy, and high up. Claire and Cam spent most of their time their, dressing her Barbie's (much to Cam's annoyance), fighting with Cam's dinosaurs, and playing pretend, just beginning to wrap their minds around how much there really was in the world.

The next summer came and went, the one highlight being the day they were finally allowed in the kiddie pool. She remembered holding his hand tightly, practically stopping his blood from circulating, as they stepped down into the water. Her toes felt exactly the same as they would have in the kiddie pool, but it wasn't the same-definitely not the same. They cherished that moment together, laughing, talking, and pretending, even if they were only allowed on the steps.

When fall came again, they attended kindergarten together. He was the one who had encouraged her to chop off all her hair at school once, he was with her when they got yelled at, and he was still with her the long and painful months she spent growing it out.

They were soon in first grade, but in different classes. After school they would have play dates; and once, when his mother was in the delivery room, he had slept over. It was such an unusual treat that they stayed up much later then they should have, goofing off and watching Disney movies.
Before they had gone to bed, Jane's mother had rushed in with the phone to let him talk. After many tired "really?"s and "okay"s, he handed the phone back to her, pressing his face into the pillow and saying nothing.

"It's a girl," he finally muttered, and faced her in the darkness. "I hope she grows up to be like you."

Claire had simply glowed at the compliment, lying awake much longer than the sleeping Cam beside her that night.


Hey everyone! It's been a while since I've written a story. This is just a three-shot, maybe a four-shot I'm writing. It's going to be just as simple as the title. Now I don't really like Claire, she's rather annoying, but I wrote a story that was just like this for English and I decided to tweak it for FF. At first I was slightly confused at who I should have made the couple, I thought of Massie&Derrick first (doesn't everyone?) and then Alicia and Josh because Josh has a younger sister. But then I realized it was just too sweet to be Massie&Derrick and too cheesy to be Alicia&Josh,

thus it became Claire&Cam.

Anywhos, the story is just about them growing up and it will have a few other Clique characters mentioned in it as it goes.

MWAH, MWAH.

-Cassy.