AN: I just HAD to do this idea, I swore not to do more than two stories at a time, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone. So ta-da.
XxX-Click, Catfished-XxX
Okay, okay, I admit it.
I lied.
Yeah it's true. I lied, alright?
About everything.
Well...almost everything. But I guess that doesn't matter now.
I mean...I never thought it would go as far as it did, y'know? I thought I could keep it under wraps. I thought that no one would ever find out!
But you already guessed it.
Yeah, I was wrong.
About everything.
(SOMEWHERE IN SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA)
"Clarisse! Come downstairs. We need to have a talk," a female voice called from downstairs.
Clarisse sighed heavily, her brows furrowing once more and hardening the already prominent frown line on her forehead. She ignored the calls of her mother, instead choosing to power on her laptop.
She could feel a bit of the tension leave her body as the laptop's screen brightened. Immediately, she began surfing the Internet, looking for the website that she overheard Piper, a girl at school, talking about.
It popped up with bright, flashy colors and effects.
The largest, hottest, most populated teenage social networking site of the year, TeenTalk. Countless girls and guys at school had already set up accounts and profiles, showing off their best features for users across the nation. Some used it to find new friends, some used it to build reputation, but most used it for dating.
Clarisse had thought the site was full of crap, including everyone using it.
Who made friends online? Psh.
But then she had seen Piper.
Piper had met a guy on TeenTalk named Jason a while back, and not only had they fallen for each other online, but they actually met up and began dating. In real life! Clarisse could hardly believe it. And as tough as she liked to portray herself, she couldn't deny that boys were on her radar this year.
Unlike her cootie-avoiding middle school days, nowadays she found herself really liking boys.
The problem was that none of the boys at her school liked her back. Whatever, right? She figured it wouldn't hurt to expand her horizons, even if that meant logging onto TeenTalk.
And so, she had jumped on the bandwagon with everyone else.
Today was a bit different, though.
Clarisse had already set up a TeenTalk account months ago. She had put up her own pictures, and she had been truthful about everything about herself. Hobbies, sports, it all went down. She was known for being painfully honest, brutally, almost.
But there had been a problem.
Unlike the other girls at school, Clarisse hadn't received a single invite. No friend requests. Not even a message.
At first she thought she had been doing something wrong. She tried going onto other people's accounts, maybe finding others who had the same hobbies as her. She had sent out requests, and with much hesitation, short and shy messages inviting other teens to come to her profile and chat it up with her.
There had only been one response. Chris.
He had seemed nice enough. He liked sports like she did. He seemed tough like she was. And she couldn't deny that she liked his cute Hispanic curls and those warm brown eyes he had.
But he didn't like her back.
She hadn't realized at first. He had been nice enough, chatting online with her sometimes after school. Girls flooded Chris's profile with comments and requests, so Clarisse felt like she was doing something right when he would chat with only her.
But then he had asked for the video chat.
She hadn't seen a problem. She had a webcam on her laptop, and she wasn't afraid to show herself. This would be a piece of cake, no doubt!
Only, when she had first connected the video chat, she could see Chris and his large muscles up close, his chiseled jaw, his handsome features… but she could see something else, too. She could see his confusion, his regret. He looked immediately uncomfortable and seemed to want to glance everywhere but his computer screen. Clarisse felt her stomach clench. What was wrong?
"You're…" Chris had begun slowly over the video chat, his voice coming out thick, "you're just like the profile picture. I thought-I thought that you might have looked different, maybe. I was hoping."
Clarisse felt her heart sink through the floor.
He was no different from the other kids at school.
He didn't like the way she looked.
And it was only confirmed later when she had tried following up with him the next day. She sent him a private message, demanding to know why he wasn't answering her anymore.
His answer?
-Srry Clarisse. Don't get me wrong, I like tough girls. I like how u say wat ur rlly thinking and u don't play games wit ppl. I like how ur confident n all, and I dig that u play sports, but…ur just too masculine for me. U act like a dude, Clarisse. U kinda look like one, even. I just don't dig girls like u.-
Clarisse had heard these things before. She was no stranger. Tomboy, butch, hyper-masculine, she had heard them all. Girls would say it behind her back, boys would say it to her face. Until she beat them all to a pulp, that is.
And the thing was, she hadn't cared before.
But Chris. She had really liked Chris. If something like this could push him away, something as simple as her appearance…she couldn't ignore it anymore.
Fine.
If guys didn't like her appearance, she would fake it.
Finding a girl to pretend to be had been hard. At her school, many of the girls were too pretty, almost to the point of being unbelievable, and Clarisse didn't want to pick someone who looked too girly or too unbelievable. Drew Tanaka? No, too prissy, too catty. Silena Beauregard? No, too beautiful, too supermodel-looking. Annabeth Chase?
Annabeth…
She was gorgeous, but in a 'I-can-handle-myself' kind of way. She was blonde with sharp, yet sexy gray eyes, and had a slender body with gratuitous curves and plenty of boobage. She played sports, like Clarisse. She could pull off ratty jeans and converse, but she could also pull off skin-tight dresses and heels. Her hands were slightly calloused, but her nails were usually painted and she smelled like heaven most of the time.
Boys tripped over themselves to get her. She was valedictorian, sociable, could rock a pair of heels, and sweet talk her way into a concert.
…But Clarisse?
She was bulky and built. Not exactly ugly, but not exactly gorgeous either. Her curves were only just coming in, but she was grateful for at least that. She had nice hips, and a buxom chest, but her shoulders were extremely broad and her muscles were like wrought iron. She had a strong, pronounced jaw and hard eyes. Her signature expression was 'bitch-don't-mess-with-me', and her hands were calloused and hard from beating up enemies and playing basketball after school. She was five foot nine in height and taller than most of the guys in her class.
Boys tripped over themselves to get out of her way. She was lucky to get straight C's, unapproachable, could hit four home-runs in a row, and intimidate her way into a concert.
So, yeah. Annabeth was the one.
She was everything that Clarisse wasn't.
In other words, the perfect candidate.
And so during her free time, Clarisse had done a sweep of Annabeth's other social networking profiles. She saved pictures and videos of Annabeth, amongst other things.
Online, they were friends and had access to each other's profiles. In real life, they were casual acquaintances. They had played on the same volleyball and softball teams in elementary school. Clarisse didn't have much of a problem with Annabeth. The girl didn't talk about people behind their backs and she could hold her own in a fight.
After Clarisse had saved all of Annabeth's pictures from her other profiles, including a few videos of the girl, Clarisse deleted her old TeenTalk account.
Now, all she had to do was make the new, fake profile.
Today.
Today was the day she would do it.
Clarisse slowly put her hands over her keyboard, ready to begin a new, falsified, online profile, ready to-
"Clarisse! Get down here NOW, young lady," a different voice boomed. This one was deeper, grittier, and much more angry.
Clarisse fumed, pushing out of her chair harshly.
Couldn't her parents get off her back for five seconds?
She flew down the stairs, eager to speed up the conversation with her parents and get back to the computer. What did they want anyways?
"Clarisse," her mother began with a worried tone, "the school called a few hours ago. They told us something…disappointing."
Clarisse's brow furrowed once more as she dwelled on her mother's words. Her school called? Why? It was the weekend. It wasn't like she had ditched or anything. What had she done lately to get her into any trouble…?
Her muscled dad stepped up, clearing up her confusion.
"You beat up two kids this month. Nancy Bobafit's going to need dental repairs and the Octo-whatever kid needs a wrist brace. All I want to say is...job well done, no one messes with my baby girl."
Clarisse grinned at that, but her mom's expression hardened.
"No, Ares, we are not condoning this…this violent behavior! Why would you hurt your classmates anyway?"
Clarisse stood stony-faced for a few moments. She was hesitant to mention the multiple food items that had been launched into her hair by Nancy Bobafit, forcing her to wash her hair constantly. And then there was Octavian. She didn't want to tell her own parents that the boy had called her "butch" and "Clarisse the Female Bull" in front of other people.
She decided to reword things a bit.
"Nancy kept chucking stuff at me in class. She was asking for it. Octavian doesn't know how to shut his mouth. So I shut it for him."
Even though her father laughed heartily at her explanation, her mother was irritated.
"No Clarisse! You don't put your hands on people! Maybe you could get away with it in elementary school, but you're a high schooler now. You're nearly an adult! If you keep beating up everyone that looks at you the wrong way, you're going to be arrested and charged for it. Hell, even now, you can get sent to a juvenile detention facility. Why can't you act like other girls your age and leave people alone? It's unsightly for a girl to be seen beating people up, anyways."
Clarisse frowned and lowered her head respectfully.
There was a time she would have thought her mom was full of herself, but now, she understood. At this age, someone could easily accuse her of assault and call the cops on her. At this age, it was pretty stupid to get into fistfights.
She sighed quietly.
She used to like fighting people. Really, she did. And she didn't have a problem winning most of her fights or standing up for herself. She didn't even have a problem losing fights. The scars were fun to show off. But as the years slid by and her classmates began maturing, she realized that the name calling would never really stop, and fists weren't going to intimidate anyone anymore.
And that really sucked, because now, people talked about her behind her back more than ever.
Clarisse wasn't stupid. Nancy was just an idiot, but she knew that Octavian wasn't. And he wasn't the only one who thought it was funny how unfeminine Clarisse was.
She had passed herds of girls at school that would silence themselves as she walked by, but then erupt into gossiping pigeons when they thought she was out of earshot.
She heard them.
"God, Clarisse is such a troll,"
"Can she get any bigger?"
"She should be on the football team, not the volleyball team."
Clarisse didn't care much about any of that until it had been Chris was telling her.
Chris was the first guy that had actually made her feel…feminine. Every time they chatted online, her stomach would fill with fireworks and every time he 'lol'ed at a joke of hers or shared an intimate secret, she would blush. Chris was the first one to make her feel okay with being vulnerable, with being girly. She wanted to be girly for him.
But he didn't want her. He couldn't get past her rough exterior. That's why Clarisse needed someone else's look. She needed Annabeth's look.
"Clarisse?" Her mother demanded. "Are you listening to me?!"
Clarisse slowly nodded before giving out a low apology, looking away. The apology seemed to satisfy her mother and Clarisse was only sent away with the punishment of being grounded for a month. Clarisse shrugged. At least she wasn't getting expelled from school or something.
She raced back up the stairs to her bedroom, opening the door.
Her walls were somewhat covered in band posters, somewhat bare. Her dressers and cabinets were covered in sports trophies she had earned throughout the years. Volleyball, softball, basketball, wrestling, you name it, she had done it. Clarisse ignored their shining glory and sat at her computer desk, kicking aside a pair of old sneakers.
Now seated, she went back to the task at hand. Her old account was deleted, so…
-Would you like to create a TeenTalk account?-
'Yes', Clarisse thought as she confirmed it through a simple click.
-Great! Before you meet other kids on the TeenTalk servers, what is your name?-
Clarisse typed slowly, wondering whether or not she should go through with this.
C-L-A-R-I-S-S-E
Pretending to be someone else was…lame, to say the least. Still. She was tired of being herself and being…being…lonely.
L-A
It wouldn't hurt to see what it felt like being someone else for a while, right?
R-U-E
-Your name is 'Clarisse La Rue'! Would you like to put up your profile picture now?-
After a series of clicks, Annabeth's face stared back at through the screen, the picture of the blonde girl situated underneath Clarisse's name.
-Your account is complete! Enjoy TeenTalk!-
Clarisse let out a little breath. That had been easier than she had expected.
The deed was done.
(SOMEWHERE IN NEW YORK CITY...)
"Percy, yo! Are you done yet?"
Percy huffed, chucking a pillow at his boisterous friends sitting on his bed.
"Shut up, guys. You know I'm dyslexic, give me a second. The words on this site are really small."
Will Solace dodged the pillow so that Grover Underwood could catch it, launching the soft item back at their raven haired friend.
"Then make them BIGGER, doofus," Will shot back, leaning back into the blue blankets.
Percy ignored them and continued clicking through the TeenTalk profile creation, steadily making his own.
"Why am I doing this, again?" He asked the others.
"Because man," Grover explained, leaning over Percy's shoulder, "this site is the next big thing. Everyone's on it. Everyone's talking about it. And the best part? It's for kids our age. No annoying parents or aunts and uncles checking what you post. Besides, all the kids in the country are on it. Y'know what that means?"
Percy shrugged, looking through his old pictures to see which one would look best for his profile.
"I dunno." He murmured, trying to focus on the pictures. He really didn't see the point of this. He didn't spend a lot of time on his computer anyways.
"No, don't pick that picture," Will advised, leaning over Percy's other shoulder, "you look like a major douche. Pick THAT one. Yeah, that."
"Perce'," Grover continued, "it means that girls are on this site. Girls our age, y'know?"
"And talent scouts," Will added, "you should mention your swimming records somewhere. Or maybe post a pic of you with that last state championship trophy."
Percy bit his lip, clicking the profile into creation.
"Guys, I don't…I don't think I really need a website to make friends or meet girls."
"O-HO," Will shouted, standing up in Percy's bed, "look at this guy! 'I don't need a website to meet girls'. Well, we are WELL aware of that, swim team champion, Adonis of our highschool-"
Percy laughed loudly, launching himself at Will. The two of them began mock-brawling. Grover quickly caught his best friend's laptop before it fell off the bed and moved it to the desk. He nodded approvingly at Percy's account.
It was pretty simple. The profile picture was a nice, sunny picture of Percy playing volleyball at the beach with some other friends. It zoomed in on him, the sand visible on his arms and legs, a bright smile adorning his face as he looked away from the camera, at a friend, probably.
The profile itself was also simple. Grover went in and edited quite a few spelling mistakes for his friend, well aware of Percy's dyslexia. The biography Percy had typed was simple and short, telling people of his likes and dislikes. He had typed that the only reason he was on TeenTalk was 'because my friends forced me to, and meeting new people, I guess'.
"Percy, make sure you type slower when you chat with people on this thing. You mess up words when you go too fast. You don't misspell stuff when you type slow." Grover shouted over his shoulder before returning back to the screen.
Percy nodded, before untangling himself from Will and walking over. "…What are you doing, Grover?"
"Messaging people," Grover answered, not missing a beat.
Percy looked confused. "Why? I don't know any of them-"
Will smiled cheekily, strutting over.
"Girls, man. That's how you get to know them. You gotta' message them."
Percy's brow furrowed as he saw Grover about to message a 'girl' that looked more like a fifty year old man in disguise.
"Wait- stop man, not her," Percy called out, trying to grab the laptop out of Grover's hands.
Grover slapped his hand away and pulled up a chair, moving himself over and motioning for Percy to sit down in front of the computer.
"Relax, bro! Here, let's do this; you scroll through this list of new users, and point out the ones you'd like to talk to. I'll send them invites, okay?"
Percy nodded, visibly relaxing. He slowly scrolled through the list of new users, pointing out a few girls, a few guys. Grover sent them invites to Percy's profile accordingly.
A ping sounded out of the laptop and Will's jaw dropped.
"THIRTY notifications? You JUST made this account like, twenty seconds ago! Damn, you're too popular for your own good. What did they say?"
Percy clicked the notification icon and scrolled through all the small messages that other teenage users sent to his account. Percy was a bit amazed, himself. These people were really fast. He began reading the messages:
-Omg ur rlly cute, PM me kay?-
-Ur hot. PM!-
-U gay, bro? Cuz I am. PM.-
-You play volleyball too? Do you play fr ur school's team? Bulldogs from Rebbert County? U guys creamed us this season :( -
-Get in my pants u fckin beast-
Percy's jaw dropped slightly, but Grover and Will were already high-fiving one another.
"Dude! They love you! I didn't get near as many notifications when I made my profile! And so fast, too! Look, look, this chick is from Puerto Rico. Friggen' Puerto Rico!" Will Solace was practically cheering before the screen, admiring Percy's online popularity.
Grover left the notifications page and continued scrolling through the list of new users. It was only a few seconds before Percy slapped a hand over his friend's chest.
"Wait a minute, Grover. Scroll back up."
Grover did as was told, and Connor gave out a low whistle as he saw the girl that Percy had been pointing out.
"Her? Yeah…she's pretty cute."
"Clarisse…La Rue," Percy read out loud as he gazed at the profile picture. A beautiful blonde girl smiled back through the picture, her bright eyes shining and intense.
Yeah. She was pretty cute.
"Grover, invite her," Percy commanded, not taking his eyes off the screen. As his friends continued gazing and admiring other users, Percy sat back, thinking.
La Rue. Sounded French. She was on the volleyball team at her high school. She liked…what was it…? Basketball and wrestling…kind of intense for a girl of her size, but whatever…
She seemed pretty cool.
"Hey, hey," Grover continued. "This one, look at this one! Her name's Juniper."
Percy gave his friend an affirming smile, but wasn't really paying attention to the girl. He was too enthralled by the grey-eyed blonde he had seen just moments before.
Hm.
Maybe this online thing wouldn't be so bad, after all.
