A COMING OF AGE
Disclaimer: The Clique is property of Lisi Harrison, as are all the characters mentioned.
Warning: Language, substance use, and suggestive dialogue.
Author's Note: The timeline is that they graduated in June 2012. By 2015 they are juniors in college. Enjoy!
People always focus on what happens in high school. They just want to talk about the jocks and the cheerleaders, the dancers and the drama geeks. The band players, the nerds. They want to focus on bright-eyed, puppy love realized while dancing to a ballad at Junior Prom. Maybe even sneaking out the window one late night to drink smuggled beers at the local park, laughing about the couple of the week. Or lazy afternoons after class and driving home with friends in tow, listening to Top 40, feeling unstoppable and free with the windows down and the wind whipping through the car. Feeling young and reckless and invincible, just by being alive.
But what about after? What about when the band stops playing and the hats go up and everyone says goodbye - what about that story?
They say high school never ends but everything that has a beginning must come to a close.
2012.
Out on the Westchester High soccer field, standing there in the late evening, surrounded by hundreds of students hugging and crying, a group of friends stood together - their parents sharing pictures and memories on the sidelines.
The group had their arms wrapped around each other, smiles plastered on their faces and tears in their eyes. This was it.
"We'll still see each other right?" A blonde girl asked, clutching her leadership sash in a tight fist.
"Yeah, we'll be seeing each other in ten minutes at Derrick's house." The group laughed. They faltered for a moment, each taking in the exact looks on their friends' faces. The moment they were in, they'd never be able to experience again.
"We're gonna be friends for a long ass time."
No one disagreed.
2015.
Nikki & James
Nikki Dalton wasn't opposed to parties but she wasn't the biggest fan of them either. Mainly because her drunk friends would have her chase after them. She liked to consider herself a 'chill drunk' and chill drunks aren't the type to be running after their hyperactive friends.
Luckily, Layne was yet to reach the point of the night where she was ready to sprint away with a half finished handle of Malibu, much to Nikki's pleasure.
"Do you think my drunk goggles are the reason I'm so into boys' personalities?" Layne asked, her words hadn't quite started to slur yet. A good sign.
Nikki snorted, "No, because if so, then that's a real testament to your personality. No offense, but you like utter shit." Nikki took a sip of her drink, reveling in the fact that whoever had mixed it had done a fairly decent job.
"I do not!" Layne said, stomping a foot on the grass of the backyard they were in. Majority of the backyard was packed, besides the small garden area they were standing in. People were even diving off the guesthouse roof into the pool and the trampoline in the corner of the yard had now led to several drunken injuries. The house they were at was just a little outside San Francisco and belonged to a friend of a friend of Layne's...or something like that.
"Prove it."
"Fine! What about that guy right there?" Layne pointed at a guy playing beer pong at a table nearby. His beard was huge and Nikki had a feeling his glasses were non-prescription - who even did that anymore? He was even wearing a NYPD baseball cap and a t-shirt that alluded to the fact that he drank a lot - nice.
"Dude, there are so many red flags." Nikki snorted.
"What about his friend?" Layne asked hopefully, but Nikki shut her down with a quick shake of her head.
"Is he...fuck, no. That's disturbing." Nikki pursed her lips, she wanted to spit her drink out. The nerve of some guys, honestly.
"What?" Layne began waving her hands in anticipation. She could honestly be one of the most antsy people Nikki knew. It was lovable half the time and annoying as fuck the rest of the time.
"He's wearing a Meninist t-shirt. That's the most horrifying thing I've ever seen. His mother did not push him out of her vagina for him to be such a fucking prick-"
"I understand where you're coming from but do you have to mention the part about his mother's vagina?" Layne looked uncomfortable and for a twenty-one year old who had shared her bed with a handful of boys - she really had no right to be.
"Yes, yes I do. And by the way, I bet that was the last time he had contact with a vagina." Nikki was smug at both insulting the boy in question as well as making her dear friend, of now two - close to three - years, uncomfortable. Double whammy.
"Okay, fine. Anyway...oh shit, mm, mmm. He is fine. Even you would agree." Layne said from the corner of her mouth. Nikki looked around but didn't notice who Layne was pointing out. "Are you literally blind, Nik? The hot boy staring at you. He's like looking directly at you and he is so hot, my god-"
"Fuck."
Nikki did notice. In fact Nikki had wished she had noticed sooner because now there was no way of escaping this. What was she even supposed to do? She could feel her palms itching and she suddenly had the urge to ask around for a mirror. Was her eyeliner smudged? Did she look stupid wearing her oversized, vintage Rolling Stones shirt? Was it too typical?
"Nik?" Layne was looking at her but Nikki was shocked, what was she supposed to do now?
"Shit. Fuck. Damn. I am so fucked. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Layne, I need to leav- ugh, fuck. Fuuuuuuuck."
It was far too late.
She pulled her phone out and pretended as if she were reading a text. Classic.
"What the hell is going o-" Layne was clearly confused and Nikki would fill her in soon enough, but now was not the time.
"Nikki?"
That voice. Fuck.
"J-James?" She pretended to sound surprised. She was surprised but at least she had seen him coming. Of all the things that could kill her buzz, it had to be this. She wished she had drank a hell of a lot more. In fact, she wished she was smash drunk with her face to her pillow right at that moment. She knew she should have stayed back with her other friends. She would rather be talking to the guy in the Meninst t-shirt than having to deal with this particular encounter.
In fact she barely looked at James, looking somewhere directly above him rather than looking him dead in the eye.
"I haven't seen you since the night of graduation." Nikki nodded vigorously. She noticed Layne raise an eyebrow in interest and lean on her foot, becoming suddenly engrossed with the conversation.
Nikki lowered her eyes and made eye contact with him. He looked the same but somehow better. More mature, definitely. And was he taller? That messy black hair, that curled at the edges was sitting mussed atop his head, and those penny brown eyes were boring into her just like always. What about that stupid half smile that looked so damn endearing? Ah, there it was.
"Yeah...it's been quite a while." She accentuated the 't' and rocked back on her heels, holding her red cup tightly with both hands.
Had he always been this hot?
"Two years." James said, smiling softly at her.
"Two and a half." She muttered. But he heard her.
"I'm Layne," Layne interjected. James looked over at her and smiled. "What's your name?"
"I'm so sorry, I'm James Wright." Layne stared at him, her mouth making an 'o' shape as if she had just connected the dots.
"Oh, nice to meet you, James Wright." She shook his hand firmly and looked to Nikki, wagging her eyebrows. Nikki glared.
Nikki had mentioned James in passing...okay, more like she had mentioned James several times. In her defense, however, all of those mentions of him had happened at the same time. It was one night when Nikki's roommate had gone away for the weekend. To celebrate, Layne and Nikki had both gotten wasted off of cheap, gas station wine. Layne had said that Nikki never mentioned any guys from home and suddenly everything came pouring out. Everything from the day James and Nikki had met at registration to that fateful graduation night, she talked until her words were slurring together and her eyes were glassing over as she recounted the tale. By the end of the night Layne, in her drunken state, had come to the conclusion that "JamesFuckin'Wright" meant a lot more to Nikki than Nikki would ever let on - and Nikki resented the fact that Layne knew that.
"Um...so what are you doing here?" Nikki asked, chugging back some of her drink. James followed her movements as she swung the red cup back. It would have been amusing to watch him see this side of her, after all he had only ever seen her sip alcohol. Except for once...but that was not the point.
"I came with some friends. I go to Stanford." James pointed back at a group of people standing around and drinking beers, it was unclear which ones exactly were his friends (if not maybe all) but Nikki didn't point that out.
"I know where you go to school." She rolled her eyes slightly. It was suddenly easy to revert back to old habits.
"Well, it didn't seem like it since you never visit." He countered, leaning forward just enough, his hands in his pockets.
Nikki scoffed, "Please, you could have made the drive yourself."
"Are we really going to argue about thirty minutes?" He laughed.
"Thirty minutes that could have gotten you from Stanford to Berkley, easily." Nikki responded.
"Right, but you're not counting traffic. Which would have been a bitch to sit through." He crossed his arms, and she couldn't help but look at the veins in his arms and the way his forearms looked pressed together like that-
She snapped into her senses, what was wrong with her?
"So? Better you than me." Good job, Nikki, she thought. Good save.
He laughed.
"You're the same as when I last saw you." She pouted and he stared at her for a moment before adding, "In a good way. And you're still wearing those damn boots."
They both looked down at her feet to the beaten up, leather, studded boots she had been wearing for years. The soles were broken and the studs were coming off but there was just something about keeping them around that Nikki couldn't pass up.
"They're cute."
"They're old."
She scoffed for the second time that night and looked away in irritation - she didn't fail to miss his smirk.
Nikki felt his stare on her, probably taking in her new appearance. The longer, wavier hair (she had given up on straightening it years ago), the nose piercing, the lankier form...she felt awkward standing there like a piece of art being studied. He had said she hadn't changed but there was so much to say just by looking at her. She looked like the result of two, long years away...and so did he.
She looked back at him, ignoring Layne's blaring quietness.
"You know, you haven't really changed either." Her voice came out softer than she had meant.
"Really?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah." She began listing things on her fingers, her rings glinting in the light, "The button-up with the sleeves rolled up (of course), the messy hair, the same charming attitude-"
"Charming?" He smirked again and Nikki nearly blushed. Layne coughed.
"I'm going to go get another drink," Layne said, smiling brightly and walking away.
Nikki watched her go and turned back to James.
"Yes," She stated with authority. "Charming. You're basically the same as when I left you." It was her turn to smirk.
"The night of graduation."
She faltered before responding. She remembered that night a lot. She remembered feeling a little confused and excited and sad and just so many other emotions. Emotions that she hated herself for feeling. The whole night had been a blur but James? Oh, she remembered that part.
"The night of graduation." She confirmed.
He opened his mouth to respond before a girl came and tugged on his arm, "James, Carlos is throwing up. We have to go before he vom-dot-com's on all the nice shit in this backyard." She looked up at Nikki and smiled, "I'm Abby."
Nikki smiled awkwardly, getting the hint of what was going on. "Nikki."
Abby grabbed James by the hand and pulled him into the crowd, her fingers intertwining with his. He turned back to look at Nikki - a last ditch effort to try and take in as much of her as he could in that moment, standing there with a red cup looking like the result of a faded memory that had been tampered with over time - and she raised her hand up weakly in response.
"Forty minutes is all it takes." He said over his shoulder.
She smiled because she had heard that line before, one late night a couple summers ago. That night also, ironically, ended the same way the current one did. An ending that involved Nikki consuming copious amounts of alcohol to try and forget.
2013.
Derrick & Kemp
It sucked, in Kemp's opinion at least, that he had break at a time when no one else did. Who the fuck decided to have a random break in the middle of February and then not give out another Spring Break?
As if college didn't suck enough.
He was currently picking up milk for his mom, muttering curses under his breath as he made his way to his car in the snowy afternoon. It was already dark out and the parking lot was nearly empty, save for a few random cars scattered throughout the white parking lot.
Sighing, he unlocked his car and opened the trunk, throwing the bag of groceries unceremoniously into the back. He had a headache, was extremely hungry and was now freezing cold. It didn't help that he was also perpetually tired. Is that what college was supposed to do to people? Was it supposed to just sap you of all your energy, eat you alive and then spit you out?
If so, he wanted a refund.
Not to mention the amount of weight he'd gained. No one beside his mom seemed to have noticed (well, at least not that they were willing to admit). And his skin - oh, god, his skin. It was horrible. It felt coarse and bumpy almost all the time. What happened to his face? Sure a tiny sprouting of a pimple or two every once in a while wasn't a problem but Kemp had never had that problem before. It was probably all the smoking he was doing. But what was more important? Weed or his skin?
It was in the middle of contemplating this that he decided to glance up. He did a double take, was that Derrick Harrington?
Indeed it was.
Kemp shut his trunk and walked over to Derrick, tugging the beanie on his head.
"Derrick?" Derrick looked up from where he was focusing on trying and failing to light a cigarette. As he looked up, he finally lit the cigarette.
"Hey, if it isn't my Duke man," Derrick said calmly, taking a drag. "Surprised to see you home."
"I've been home. This whole week. I have some random spring break and then I don't get another one - anyway, what are you doing here?" Kemp thought it was out of the ordinary to be seeing Derrick in Westchester of all places when he should have been at school...at Harvard...in Massachusetts.
"I have a break too," Derrick responded, he decided to add with a smirk, "'cept I get another break too."
Kemp rolled his eyes.
"You should have told me you were coming back," Kemp grumbled. "I've been hauled up at home playing Super Mario Brothers alone." He adjusted his collar in order to block out the cold. It didn't help much. February in New York was awfully chilling.
"You should have told me you were coming back," Derrick retorted, continuing to smoke. "Can I ask why you're hanging out by the local Albertsons or is that too intrusive?" He smirked again and Kemp rolled his eyes, rubbing his hands together to keep warm. Derrick looked fine, just wearing a Clash t-shirt with jeans and a cardigan. Kemp resented him in that moment as he stood there in his stuffy parka still freezing.
"I'm not the one standing around smoking here. I came by to pick up milk." Derrick nodded slowly as he took another puff. He looked like one of those guys in those pictures Alicia always saved on her phone, who looked all contemplative and smart, but it was really all just for show. "Why are you here?"
"I felt like cookies, so I bought cookies." He shrugged.
"Typical."
"Yes, Kemp, because I always come here in search of cookies for my undying cravings for cookies." At least Derrick's sarcasm hadn't changed since Kemp had last seen him two months prior. It was funny because over winter break Kemp had studied each of his friends closely, wondering what about them had been tweaked. He had this theory that everyone didn't change when they went to college, they simply became more themselves. It made sense because without the social pressures of someone's hometown or their high school life they were free to be whoever the fuck they wanted to be. The change usually seemed like it was happening slowly but it was actually quite rapid - he'd noticed it with several of their older friends and his older sister. Derrick had become semi more of a douchebag (if possible) and a hell of a lot more carefree. It was nice.
"Right. You know you could have mentioned being home this week, it would have saved me a lot of misery." He wanted to guilt trip Derrick for being bad at communicating with the distance but Derrick just looked at him and then proceeded to blow smoke out into the open sky, tilting his head back and releasing the smoke like a dragon might have.
"My apologies. I'll remember to fax you a copy of my school calendar as soon as I get back. Wouldn't want it to happen again." Though it seemed a bit cold, Derrick's tone showed he was truly sorry for not letting Kemp know. Not that Kemp cared too much, it was only a couple days into his week-long break. A few days alone was good for him. It taught him a couple of things...like how he hated being alone.
"A picture will do."
Derrick snorted. Kemp's stomach growled.
"You want some cookies?" Derrick asked, looking to Kemp's stomach where the noise had come from.
"I was wondering when you'd ask...I even have milk."
Derrick grinned and then they sat there, on the roof of Derrick's car on a snowy, winter evening, sharing cigarettes and cookies while chugging milk straight from the gallon.
Very typical indeed.
2012.
Olivia & Cam
Everyone in Westchester who was close with the Ryans, even if it was individually, knew that every Sunday they dedicated their time after church by sitting at the Westchester County Park lake, feeding the ducks. Everyone in Westchester, or anyone who knew Olivia Ryan at all, knew that she particularly hated this activity.
As Olivia had grown older she had been exempt from making this trip by mentioning things like studying or group projects or period cramps. She assumed her parents thought she was too old to come now and only took her younger brothers, now that she was in college. Olivia's theory was that now that they saw her every single day, more than ever before, that Sundays were their days off from Olivia. She couldn't lie and say she didn't feel the same way though. Whenever the door shut after them, whether they were going to work or grocery shopping or trying out the new gym fad, she felt a sigh of relief.
She hated going to community college. She really did.
This particular Sunday, Olivia was upside down on the living room couch with her legs curled over the back. She was extending a magazine in front of her, sitting in the tranquility of a quiet home. No parents, no siblings, no housekeepers or gardeners - just Olivia. The light from the winter afternoon was peeling through the shutters; it was surprisingly warm for a New York winter but she didn't exactly mind.
Just as she was really getting into a story about Mila Kunis and Ashton Kutcher's new life, the bell rang.
This was the downside to Sundays. Olivia was the only one there to answer the door.
Sighing, she set the magazine down, shimmied off the couch, put her glasses and house slippers back on and made her way to the foyer.
The moment she opened the door, she was angry.
"No." She said viciously, slamming the door shut. Right in his slimy, little face.
The bell rang again.
She ignored it.
It rang again.
Nope.
Again.
Not happening.
Then again and again and again and-
Finally, Olivia couldn't take the incessant ringing anymore, she opened it. She knew her face was flustered and she was wearing a Westchester High Senior t-shirt that probably had a hole in the sleeve and her hair was falling out of it's bun. She suddenly wondered about how her knees probably looked really knobby and ashy and how her brother's Batman shorts from when he was ten looked ridiculous on her.
He had no right to make her think about these things.
"Hey," He said waving a hand in front of her. How did he have the gall? It was sickening. It was also the first time, she realized, that she was seeing him since he had left for school a few short months before. He had a warm glow to his skin that looked extremely out of place in New York. His face was fuller, but not in a bad way and his hair had grown quite a bit.
She wondered if all that social media was a lie or if he was actually enjoying California. She didn't care though, that was not the point.
"I thought I was clear in my last text to you. No means no."
"I just-" He opened his mouth to talk again and when she cut him off she noticed that he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. His impatience was showing. He huffed his breath and a it made a cloud before him. Warm for New York was probably freezing in comparison to what he was now used to. She didn't care though.
"No, Cam. I'm done, okay? Why can't you understand that? I was stupid and vulnerable and you- you took advantage of that. It took me a long time to gain the courage to tell you off and I- I finally did. Why can't you just leave me alone?" Olivia would have wanted it to have come out a lot clearer and stronger, she also would have liked to have kept steady eye contact with him the whole time. What she wanted to do was deliver it like how she imagined someone like Massie or Nikki would have delivered it, but Massie and Nikki would not be in this situation in the first place.
Thinking of them made her mind wander again as Cam stood there in silence. Did they know what their precious Cam was up to? Whose side would they be on? But thinking about other people only made her more upset. If she had gone away like them then she wouldn't be in this predicament. She wouldn't be stuck in her same Westchester routine. Always in the house. Always alone.
It did not help to see Cameron Fisher on her doorstep.
Who took partial blame for the current state of her life - even he could admit it if he was feeling especially honest.
"That's not what I'm here for," he said. He looked around behind him and then stepped forward. "Can I come in?"
Olivia took a deep breath, it took all her courage to shake her head 'no'. He sighed in response to that.
"I don't even know how you got past the gates." Olivia was seething now. How dare he enter her property and then ask to come inside? She assumed he'd gotten through the gates by punching in the code, which he probably remembered from a few months ago, but it still made her mad that he was allowed to store information about her and her life in his head. It made her sick.
He ignored her remark.
"I just came by to say sorry. Look, I never meant to make you feel that way. I know what I did was wrong. I shouldn't have asked you to do something that would make you feel uncomfortable and now look, you're ignoring me. I don't want to leave things with you on a bad note-"
"A bad note?! A bad note?" Olivia spluttered, racking her brains for some sort of way to compute what he had just said and then finally, the bravery she needed came. She scoffed, "My god. A bad note is just texting the word 'bye' as you're leaving. A bad note is telling me you don't want to see me again. A bad note would mean you responding to me when I text you about how I can't do this anymore. A bad note is not you texting me months later asking me to hook up. That's not a bad note. Do you know what that is? That's-that's just disgusting."
She was shivering now but it wasn't from the cold. He was looking at his feet now. It was rare that Olivia raised her voice. Her soft voice barely came out sounding threatening but she knew that just the attempt had struck something in him and she felt a sort of sick pleasure watching him suffer.
"Liv..." he trailed off and met her eyes. The way he was looking at her would have made her melt into a puddle just months before. She would have been putty in his hands and he knew that.
"I'm so, so sorry." He stepped forward again so that they were face-to-face. "I really am. I would never hurt you like that." Before she could respond, his lips were on hers and it took her no time at all to kiss him back. This was how it was supposed to be. Olivia and Cam. Cam and Olivia. But then something felt off, her stomach lurched. This was wrong. This may have been how it was supposed to be, but there was a reason it wasn't like this anymore.
She pulled away from him and pushed him back gently.
"Sorry," she said, shutting the door behind him.
He did not bother to ring the bell again.
Author's Note: Hi guys! So inspiration for this came to me randomly one day and I honestly really enjoyed writing this.
The intention is that by the end of it you will understand all of their stories and personal struggles fully. By the end you'll get the full picture of everything, whether it's what happened between Nikki and James the night of graduation or what Olivia said to Cam before he left or what their relationship was. The point is that people always tell you how great college is and how you'll make all these new friends and these new memories but they never tell you about what happens to all your old friends or how sometimes complications from the past follow you. They don't tell you if you'll stay friends with your friends from high school or what happens to your big group of friends that once got along seamlessly and they tell you how high school relationships don't last but they never clarify how they end (usually badly...very badly). This is about the rough part of transitioning from high school to college and how this group of friends who were once inseparable go through this. It's about how they continue to meet and separate and how everything is the same but them.
I hope you continue to read this story and if you have any questions/comments/suggestions/concerns, please feel free to let me know!
-Violet
P.S. In the future, some stories might be shorter than others and I may include snippets of interactions at the end of their senior year.
