Disclaimer: I do not own the Clique
Note: Due to suggestions from a few readers I now present my first story in…PARAGRAPH FORM xP. Enjoy!
Have you ever been on top? Whether it be the top of your class, the top athlete on your team, or you're the prettiest, the wisest? Just...the best? I was once...I was actually all of the above...I was a shoe-in for valedictorian, the star forward on the soccer team, head of the Pretty Committee as well as the Witty Committee. Anyone with a problem came to me; I was the rock, the foundation of everything I was involved in. I even had the best boyfriend, Josh Hotz .Yes, nobody could beat me, not until a certain someone came walking into our lives.
Her name was Alicia Rivera. Oh, she was the most gorgeous thing anyone had ever seen, including me. She was also very intelligent, the 99 to my 97. Granted she was not the sportiest around but she was still the ultimate standard of perfection. Alicia even had a cuter and better boyfriend, Derrick Harrington. Of course I shouldn't be admitting that to anyone, but it was absolutely true. So, since we had 'so much in common', Alicia and I soon became friends, but I can't say it was sarcastic or false. I had to admit she was genuine person, and I think that is what truly killed me the most inside.
So as 'Kralicia' as the called us, took BOCD by storm, I was slightly comforted. At least I wasn't THAT far from the top, even though I hated the prospect of silver. But I wasn't even the silver chaser, I was one half of the golden couple, the dream team, but I'll admit I'd never been the greatest at sharing. I still felt pangs of jealously every time I heard her name being called for another award, or even being at the top of the Hottest Girls list in the boys' bathroom. I was truly growing to love Alicia, but I still felt terribly repressed, like she was taking something from me, whether she or I knew it or not, all with a beautiful smile on her face.
The only flaw, if it even was one, in Alicia was her self confidence, or lack thereof. Alicia actually suffered from acute shyness and terrible self-esteem, which only made me hate her. At first I was still the rock, I'd comfort her when she was upset, I'd tell her she was beautiful, that she was the best. But after awhile, I was sick of being the wind beneath her wings; I felt she was only trying to justify how good she really was. Fishing for compliments if you will, and that's how we started fighting, my jealously bubbled worse then ever before, and I was simply sick and tired of having my kryptonite dangled in front of me at all times. AKA, my best friend.
I knew it was a horrible way to feel, especially because she was just so giving and wonderful to me, but I just could not find a way to repress my anger. So we stopped being friends. My God that sounds to childish now, but that is the best way I can describe what happened to us. After being inseparable for two years, we suddenly were ignoring each other, acting cold and really detached. We were fifteen when we fell apart, and I thought I was indestructible. With Alicia out of the way, I figured I was the best again, no questions, no doubts, no pressure.
The only problem was Alicia didn't disappear after we 'broke up' in terms. She was still the best in everything, and I had to admit while I was extremely jealous with or without her, it wasn't terrible being one half of a super couple. Even if I was the weaker half. It was harder to see her succeed, especially because now it was just a failure on my part, whereas I could have at least celebrated a little bit if we were still friends. The truth was I missed her, but I could never admit it. I knew it was my fault that I was on my own again, but that couldn't silence both my brewing jealously, and my aching loneliness. To top it off Josh had lost interest and we were on the outs as well. I had even heard a rumor that he had a major crush on Alicia. It certainly didn't surprise me, but I tried to ignore it.
What I didn't realize at the time, however, was that I was not the only one who was throbbing from the distance. While I was blind to it, Alicia was just as heartbroken about losing me as I was about losing her. I had first heard this as a whisper from Olivia Ryan's perfectly glossed mouth, but I figured it was just a lie. Besides, I'd heard where that mouth had been, and I was not ready to trust anything coming from it ever again. The truth was I refused to believe that Alicia, the same girl who had all heterosexual boys and awestruck girls in our school orbiting around her, could feel any fragment of pain or emptiness. I just assumed she had moved forward while I slowly faded into the background.
I had heard other rumors about Alicia, straight from Olivia's filthy mouth, that I also refused to believe. She spoke about how Alicia, Derrick, along with Claire, a cheap imitation of me to the naked eye, and Griffin went out on late weekend nights. I heard whispers of alcohol, drugs, and a lot of making out with each other's partner. Of course when I first heard this, it sounded cheap and tawdry and completely untrue. Why would Alicia, golden child extraordinaire, partake in such behavior? Even if she was my downfall wrapped up in an angelic body, I still felt she should be exempt from Olivia's vile slander. So I would roll my eyes at any snippet of gossip and move on.
It wasn't until the night of my Sweet Sixteen that everything came to light. Even as I zipped up my dress memories of Alicia and I flooded my brain, especially the thought of Alicia's quinceanera, her Sweet Fifteen. I was supposed to be one of her damas, but that was two weeks after the split. Since it was still fresh and not quite silent yet, I attended. Of course I was not a dama anymore, but I went, I had a birthday gift, and I even did the Cha Cha Slide with Nina. Still, I think it was that one day that we both knew that we were not going to go anywhere forward. I knew I really shouldn't have been there, it was her birthday, and she deserved to be free of any bad memories. That was why Alicia was not going to attend my party. I had sent her an invitation, but I knew it was no good.
Like I expected I didn't see her at my party, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a good time. However, that's not really relevant to my story. The real action took place after the cake and flowers and dancing and the whole glittery fantastic scene. I got a limo home, but it was such a beautiful May evening that I decided to walk around the neighborhood for a moment or two. Right when I was about to stroll past St. Theresa Church a few blocks away from my house, I saw something strange. A balled up shadow right on the stairs. My first instinct was that it was a homeless person, or maybe some yuppie with a Pumpkin Spice from Starbucks, but what I saw shocked me the most.
Alicia. Alicia was sitting on those stairs in a heap, and as I got closer I could hear that she was crying. At that moment I forgot about the months of freezing each other out, of lying in our hearts that we were fine without each other. In that moment I was just Kristen and this was just Alicia. I sat down next to her, looking like a gumdrop fairy in all of my finery, and put my arm around her. At first I know I startled her because she jumped up in reflex, but I just whispered for her to tell me what was wrong. She continued sobbing but looked up at me. Not only were her eyes red and bloodshot, but her left eye was swollen and her face was all banged up. I peeked down and saw that her arms and legs were also suffering major cuts and bruises.
"How?" was all I could manage. She didn't say anything but just continued to bawl into her palms. I pulled her closer to me and just let her cry for a minute, silent.
"He tried to rape me." was all she could manage before bursting out screaming again. No hesitation, no barriers anymore, she just told me.
"Derrick?" I asked. While I never liked him much I never could have thought he was capable of something like this.
"Griffin." she corrected. And with that everything Olivia had said rushed back to me. With that one word, Alicia told me that everything was true, every last filthy detail.
I bit my lip, enraged at that bastard, but I did the only thing I knew how to do. I became the rock. I stood my ex-best friend up gently, and I helped her to my house. We didn't say one word to each other on that walk home. We didn't have to. I brought her up my stairs and lay her down on the couch in my room. I then put a blanket over her terribly banged up body and went downstairs to get a bowl full of water and a washcloth. No questions, no doubts, no words. And I learned something that night. Sometimes being someone's support system is just as important as being number one.