Faith, here. :D This is a Massington [well, we all know how much I love Massie and Derrick], for Lauren (Splattered Teardrops) for the Halloween Exchange. Um, it's set during Massie's junior year, and yea… Oh, and it's most definitely AU (Alternate Universe).
So yea… Enjoy? [Sorry, Lauren if you hate it! :P]
xxxxx
You See Through My Masquerade
"And after all, what is a lie? 'Tis but the truth in a masquerade."
- Lord Byron
Seventeen year old Massie Block stared at the smirking face looking down on her in haughty amusement. His mouth curved across his strong cheeks with smugness and his warm, caramel eyes sparkled with mischief. His strong arm reached out toward her, hand outstretched – a gesture the bystanders would assume to be sincere. But Massie ignored his so-called chivalry, and pulled herself off of the cold, scratched floors of the Westchester County Airport baggage claim.
"Same old Massie. You know, it's just a hand, it won't kill you."
Massie felt cheeks flush with that familiar heat that he always seemed to bring, and hated herself for showing any emotion. Ignoring his signature I'm-Derrick-Harrington-and-I'm-amazing smirk, she racked her head for one of her signature comebacks, but the only thing that coursed through her mind was how bloodshot her amber eyes were, how her flat and messy her ponytail was, and how she smelled like the limp tofu from her vegan seatmate's sandwich. Stuffing all of these insecurities deep into the folds of her box of memories she'd really rather not bring up, she willed the spreading color to disappear, looked into those familiar orbs, and mustered up the best comeback she could possibly think of.
"Well, unless that hand is connected to Darren Criss proposing to me, I'd really don't want anything to do with it," Massie snapped, slipping on her purple Ray Bans and walking away as fast as her black Joie flats could carry her.
"But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best."
- Marilyn Monroe
Derrick Harrington stared at the petite brunette walking away toward the rotating luggage carousel with a small smirk on his face. It was the same old, bitchy, volatile, big-headed, egotistical, fickle Massie Block. Witty, clever, quick with her tongue, assertive, a little too self-confident, but also insecure, apprehensive, and hesitant, she was the epitome of high-maintenance. She'd spend hours analyzing if she acted too smart and too nerdy or too dumb and too slow. At times she wanted to be the center of your world, and other times, she wanted to bury herself in self-pity and self-misery. Fifty percent of the time she wanted your arms around her waist, the other fifty percent; she'd taunt you by flirting with other guys.
Ever the temptress, ever the coaxing devil, Massie played games with your mind and heart, blowing up at the slightest wrong answer. But somehow, there was something about her that was alluring, enthralling, and captivating. There was something about the feisty, fiery, sharp-tongued brunette that Derrick couldn't resist. Something about her bitchiness and her sweetheart qualities, her extroversive obnoxiousness and her introversive docility, her need to be loved and her tendency to run away that was irresistible. Half the time, Derrick thought that he knew what was going on in her crazily chaotic, fairytale, circus of a mind, and the other half, he was completely and utterly baffled. But he was determined to figure out exactly who was Westchester's very own diva.
As he watched as two porters helped her wheel out her mountain of a luggage, he felt a familiar slap on the back of his head. Turning around, he spotted the blonde, blue-eyed girl with whom he was supposedly related to smirking happy-go-luckily as though being slapped NCIS-Gibbs-style on the back of the head was the best thing in the world.
"What's up little brother?" Sammi Harrington chirped in her loud, perky, cheerleader voice. "Which defenseless girl are you looking at this time?" she asked pinching Derrick's cheeks with a knowing wink.
"None of your business," Derrick snapped, casting an irritating glance at his older sister.
"Aw, did she turn you down?" Sammi teased, handing her five Lacoste luggage bags to her brother. "Maybe it's for the best. After all, who'd want to date a guy who used to be obsessed with his uncle's ventriloquism act when he was six?"
"Sammi, shut the fuck up or you're walking the twenty-eight miles home."
Sammi rolled her navy-blue eyes. "Oh, I'm so-o-o-o scared. Please, little brother," she scoffed. "And be careful of my bags, there's breakables in there…and if you're a good little boy, you can have one for as a one-month-in-advanced-early-Christmas gift," she smirked, pinching Derrick's cheeks again, much to his irritation.
"Believe me, sis, the best gift you can give me is getting your ass back in Princeton," Derrick grumbled as he dragged Sammi's multiple luggages behind him.
"You're just a cannibal and I'm afraid I won't get out alive."
- Chris Colfer (Glee Remix of Ke$sha's "Animal")
Massie was hit with a sense of reminiscence and nostalgia as she walked into her old Westchester bedroom. It had been almost two years since she has last been here. The white walls, purple rug, equestrian trophies and ribbons, and numerous collages each brought back memories of the past she'd tried to ignore. Forgetting about the heaviness in her eyes – resulting from the ridiculously long red-eye flight from Britain, she sat down on the slightly dusty purple duvet and glanced around her childhood quarters.
The faded Twilight poster by the closet reminded Massie of her obsession with Robert Pattinson in the eighth grad, her bookshelf was crammed with the Jonas Brothers' CDs and Gossip Girl books and she knew that if she turned on the dusty 50 inch plasma TV, her Ti-Vo would be full of GG reruns, thanks to her Blair Waldorf mania. But time had affect Massie as much as any other teen, and her interest shifted, replacing Robert Pattinson with Darren Criss, progressing from Twilight to Glee, switching from the Jo Bros to One Direction, and swapping Gossip Girl for The Secret Circle.
But if there was one thing that stuck to Massie like glue, it was Derrick Harrington. The dirty-blonde, caramel eyed, soccer player was the one person Massie couldn't seem to replace, move on from, or forget. It was like a scratched record player repeating nonstop in Massie's mind: Derrick Harrington. Derrick Harrington. Derrick Harrington.
There was something about the cocky, swaggering, Playboy, ladies' man that Massie was just drawn to. Something about how he didn't give a shit about her insults, how he challenged everything she said or did, and how he acted as if he was the best goddamn thing in the planet. There was just this sexy, tempting aspect in Derrick Harrington that drew Massie to him like honey draws in Winnie-the-Pooh.
But he was a ladies' man, a Playboy, a two-gals-at-a-time kind of guy, and Massie didn't want anything to do with that. Memories of seventh grade flooded inside her brain, and she remembered the warning signals that coursed through her body when she saw him flirting with Dylan. She remembered how she ended their relationship – could you even call it a relationship, she asked herself – in fear that he would just break her heart.
And she wasn't falling into that trap again.
"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken."
- C.S. Lewis
Two days later, on Monday morning, Derrick was sitting in his first period U.S. History class, listening to Allie-Rose Singer and Carrie Randolph talk about Paranormal Activity 3, when he should have been taking notes about the Hundred Years' War.
"Omigosh, Derrick, itwassuchafreakinggoodmovie," Carrie exclaimed, her lips moving faster than an Indy 300 racecar as she edged her chair a little bit closer to Derrick's.
"It wasn't that good," Allie-Rose yawned, as she drew random flowers on her wrist with a pink Sharpie.
"Oh, yea, if it wasn't a good movie, then why were you screaming like a baby?" Carrie taunted, inching her foot closer to Derrick's.
Allie-Rose scowled at her friend and threw her Sharpie at Carrie. Carrie ducked and the Sharpie ended up hitting the amber-eyed brunette who was pretending to be fascinated to Mrs. Garson's mind-numbing lecture. But based on the way she crossed her legs, Derrick knew that she was texting someone, her thumbs probably moving as fast as Carrie was talking.
Massie glanced behind her, and irritably tossed the Sharpie back at Carrie, scowling at the disturbance. Derrick chuckled lowly. Typical Massie.
"There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment."
- Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever
"Admit it. You still like Derrick," Alicia Rivera smirked, poking Massie's ribs.
Massie looked up from the copy of Vogue in her hands to her four friends. She rolled her eyes when she saw Alicia's goofy smile diagonal across the table from her in the cafeteria. "I don't."
"Please, Mass, you can't fool us," Dylan Marvil grinned mischievously, her emerald green eyes glittering naughtily. "We all know that you lo-o-o-o-ove Derrick. In fact, I'd bet that you have this secret longing to kiss him passionately."
Massie raised her eyebrow. "Really, Dyl? Because you'd lose that bet."
"Oh, really? So you're telling me that you have no interest in Derrick at all?" Dyl teased.
"Nope," Massie said, turning back to her magazine.
"Not even in his Varsity letterman jacket?" Kristen Gregory prompted, her aquamarine eyes gleaming. "Because we all know how you find guys in varsity jackets so sexy."
Massie lightly whacked Kristen with her magazine in exasperation. "Yes, guys in varsity jackets are sexy, but it's not the guy that makes the jacket sexy; it's the jacket that makes a guy sexy. Anyone who wears a varsity jacket looks sexy; it doesn't matter who it is."
Claire Lyons laughed at Massie's outburst. "Mass, that logic makes no sense whatsoever."
Massie rolled her eyes. Alicia smirked. "Of course her logic makes no sense; she's just trying to change the subject."
"What subject?" Josh Hotz asked as he slid his tall frame into the seat next to Alicia, his deep brown eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Alicia smiled as her boyfriend wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. "We're talking about how Massie is pretending that she doesn't like Derrick," she taunted playfully, as Massie busied herself with her iPhone 4S.
Kemp Hurley's booming laugh caught everyone's attention as he sat down next to Kristen. "And how badly is this charade going?" he teased, before quickly kissing Kristen's jaw and subtly sliding his arm around her waist.
"Very badly," Dylan emphasized, with a teasing grin on her face as Christopher Plovert slid into the seat next to her, his brown eyes glinting behind his Ray Ban prescription glasses as he interlaced his fingers through hers.
"Well, I'm not surprised," Cam Fisher said as he snuck behind Claire and kissed her cheek while covering her eyes. "Derrick was unusually er– nonchalant– today," he winked suggestively toward Massie, placing a package of gummies onto Claire's tray.
Massie rolled her eyes at her friends' banter, staying focused on her iPhone.
Alicia rolled her eyes. Dylan giggled as Alicia smacked the smart phone from the amber-eyed brunette's hands.
"What, Leesh?" Massie snapped, throwing an annoyed look at the Spanish beauty.
"Admit. It. You like Derrick Harrington."
"I. Do. Not."
"Liar."
"Who's a liar?" Derrick asked as he slid in between Cam and Alicia, directly across from Massie.
Massie rolled her eyes and willed the heat in her cheeks to go away as the entire group burst into laughter. She caught Derrick's quizzical glance and almost giggled, but caught herself in time.
Kristen leaned forward to Derrick with an uncharacteristically impish gleam in her eye. "Massie and you are both terrible lairs."
Derrick raised a puzzled eyebrow as he dug into his pizza.
"Massie is just a compulsive liar who doesn't want to admit the truth to us…" Dylan smirked teasingly.
"…and you're just a really, really bad liar," Alicia summed up, her eyes sparkling like she just scored a juicy bit of gossip.
Derrick swallowed his third piece of pizza. "But what am I lying about?"
Kristen sighed. "You're lying about your undying love for undying love for a certain girl."
Derrick carefree caramel eyes clouded over with confusion. "What do you mean?"
Claire rolled her eyes and lazily threw a gummy worm at Derrick. "Really? Is it not obvious that you and Mass still like each other? Duh!"
Derrick shrugged. "I don't know how Ms. Britannia over there feel about me, but I'm not 'in love' with her."
"Nor I with Derrick," Massie yawned carelessly, not looking up from her iPhone, where she was in the middle of a game of Fruit Ninja.
"There you go," Derrick shrugged, "case solved."
Alicia, Kristen, and Dylan sighed exasperatedly, and Kemp and Josh sniggered.
"Both of you are going to combust from your horrible 'I-really-and-honestly-don't-care-about-him/her -at-all' act," Claire said teasingly.
"It's not an act," the brunette and dirty blonde snapped at the same time. They quickly caught each other's eye and dropped it in an instance.
"Well, if it's not an act, prove it," Plovert said slyly, his eyes still glinting good-naturedly.
Massie's fiery eyes locked onto his placid chocolate orbs. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice lined with caution.
"If you honestly have no interest in Derrick and vice versa, prove us all wrong," Plovert said.
"Fine," Derrick said, before chugging the rest of his root beer. "How should we prove it you?" he challenged, eyebrow raised cockily.
"Kiss," Plovert smirked.
Alicia and Kristen burst into cheers, and Claire, Cam, Kemp, and Josh burst into laughter. "Brilliant!" Dylan yelled as she leaned over to give her boyfriend a kiss.
Massie caught Derrick's eye. She knew the others were goading her into a road she did not want to go down, but there was something in the way he raised his eyebrows arrogantly and something about his conceited smirk that pushed away all sense of logic in her brain.
"You in, Block?"
And before Massie knew it, the words just slipped off of her tongue like honey. "When ever you're ready, Harrington." And with that, she really had no other choice but to get up and to walk toward her crush.
"This is gonna be good," Alicia screeched.
"Bet you they'll be having sex by tonight," Kemp snickered.
"Have fu-u-un, Mass!" Dylan teased, followed by Kristen's phlegmy cackle.
When Massie reached Derrick, he glanced up at her with the same smirk that was on constant replay in her mind, every night. He raised his eyebrows cockily, and gestured for her to come closer. Rolling her eyes, she lowered herself slowly onto his lap, ignoring her supposed friends' cheers and whistles. Once she was in his lap, he looked straight at her amber eyes with those caramel eyes that seemed so much like home, but also like the deep trap that so many girls fell into.
It's just a kiss. It's just a kiss. You don't love him. You don't even like him the slightest bit! It's just a kiss. It doesn't mean that you're going to fall in love with him. It means nothing. It's just a kiss. It's just a kiss. It's just a kiss. It's just a kiss. It's just a kiss.
But somehow, the more Mass repeated the mantra, the less she believed it. And as he leaned toward her, his Diesel cologne protectively enveloping her with it's clean, masculine scent, her heart raced with excitement, screaming "Stop denying it; you love him" over and over again until the infatuated sensation coursed through her bloodstream, drowning her brain's logical "Don't do it; he's just going to break your heart" response.
But Massie couldn't deny it: when their lips touched, she felt the fiery connection that coursed from Derrick Harrington to her. It was as if time stood still and she felt the strong passion and chemistry between the, and if they weren't in the center of Westchester High School's cafeteria, she would've let her hands explore all over his taut, muscular body. As his lips caressed hers softly, she felt the bliss she hadn't felt in a while. There was just something that drew her into Derrick Harrington: maybe it was how his cologne was so infatuating, so irresistible, or how his arm just seemed to fit so perfectly around her waist, or how everything about him seemed so strong and protective, as if he could shield her from everything until the end of time.
Time. Time. Time. Massie suddenly cleared up. Holy crap, how long had they been kissing? If they kissed for more than 45 seconds, everyone would assume they liked each other, and if they kissed for less, everyone would assume that they're just faking. The kiss had to be long enough that people would believe that they could kiss without a care in the world, but not too long or people wouldn't believe it. How long had they been kissing?
Massie slowly pulled away from Derrick. She felt her cheeks flushing again, and she willed the pink hue to disappear under the mask. Similarly, she pushed those feelings down, down, down, until they were buried deep, along with the other dreams, secrets, and hopes she couldn't face.
"We found love in a hopeless place."
- Rihanna
A week later, Massie found herself sitting in the middle of the Harrington living room with Derrick and Carrie, wanting very much to be anywhere but there. As Carrie lazily surfed the internet for "research" on their Civil War project, Massie silently arranged and rearranged the typed information and photographs on the display board, while Derrick lay on his back, fiddling with his BlackBerry.
"Oooh, the new Taylor Swift video is out on YouTube," Carrie squealed excitedly, as an upbeat country-pop tempo filled the room.
Massie smiled slightly as Derrick's face wrinkled in disgust as the opening lyrics of "Speak Now" reached his eardrum. A flashback sent her back to seventh grade and suddenly she hears Derrick's higher-pitched seventh grade voice spitting with scorn. "Taylor Swift sounds like a tone-deaf, auto-toned, computer-generated screeching banshee who's singing from her butt."
Catching Derrick's eye, Massie felt her cheeks flush, and she quickly focused again on the display board, making sure everything was straight and orderly before she got out the purple Elmer's glue sticks.
"Carrie, can we, um, maybe play something different?"
"Why?" As Massie's smoothing down the corners of a photograph onto the display board, she catches a glimpse of Carrie's confused face.
"Maybe because Taylor Swift sounds like a whiny little attention-grabbing bitch who writes songs about her pathetic little nonexistent love life and sings them in a high, off-pitched, screechy voice, making it clear that she's a tone-deaf and auto-toned banshee singing from her ass," Sammi proclaimed in her loud voice as she strode into the living room.
Seeing Carrie's face twist into a horrified, appalled mask was too much for Massie. She burst into laughter, trying to cover it up with her arm but failing to do so.
"Taylor Swift is not….a banshee! How dare you! She's like a god of country music! She's the prettiest, sweetest, and most talented person out there!" Carrie screeched, her cheeks flushing a beet red.
"Please, sweetheart. Taylor Swift is a sweet person to her fans and whatever, but she's just not talented. I can't sing at all, and I probably have more talent than her," Sammi yawned out, shifting through the magazines on the coffee table.
Carrie glanced at Derrick, who had an amused little smirk on his face. "Please make her shut up," she begged.
Massie glanced at Derrick, who caught her eye with a smirk. Derrick glanced back at Carrie and raised an eyebrow. "Normally, I would. But this is one of the few times I actually agree with my sister. Taylor's voice sounds worse than Justin Bieber's." Carrie's cheeks flushed even darker, and she scowled heavily when she saw Massie trying to hide her laughter.
"Ugh, whatever, I'm out of here." And with a scorning glance at the Harrington siblings, she stormed out of the Harrington estate, slamming the door behind her.
Sammi sighed with relief. "Oh, thank God she's gone. Turn off that crap, will you little bro, and put on something decent? Thank youuu! And do you guys have any cute magazines? Not like 'Reader's Digest' or that other crap."
"Um, there's probably some World Travel magazines and other stuff over there by the fireplace," Derrick said as he put on a Rihanna and Eminem medley.
"Sweet. And Massie, can I steal that Vogue in your bag?"
Massie glanced up, eyebrows crinkled in puzzlement. "Sure?"
"Thanks. You're a such sweetie!" Sammi reached down to grab the magazine, and pinched Massie in thanks.
Without meaning to, Massie involuntarily turned to Derrick for explanation. She saw him smirking at her confusion.
"She likes to find pictures the quote, 'inspire her,' unquote and cuts them out into words or quote, 'inspirational quotations,' unquote, like, 'Do you believe in true love or should I walk by again?' to hang up on her bedroom wall. Stupid, but whatever. It keeps her busy, and out of my way."
"Oh."
She turned back to the display board, trying to focus again on gluing down the pictures and typed information, when she realized, she already finished gluing everything. Unconsciously and almost instinctively, she glanced up into his deep light brown eyes, her cheeks flushing instantly. His mouth curved across his well-built jaw again, into that familiar smirk, and his eyes glinted with that playful, cocky gleam. He moved closer toward her, his hand reached out and drew her face closer toward him, and he pulled her into another one of his soft and passionate kisses, his other arm protectively around her waist.
But she pulled back.
"I should go," she whispered.
"Mass– "
"I'm sorry, but I – I have to go. I can't do this."
"Massie, stop. I know you like me. And you know you like me, too. When we kissed last week, I know you felt it. That wasn't some ordinary kiss. I didn't want to admit it back then, either, but, Massie, there's no point in denying it now. Why do you keep running away from me?"
Massie locked her eyes into Derrick's and the memories filled her mind.
"I run away from you because I love you. Ever since seventh, you were the only boy I really liked. And ever since that kiss, I've realized just how much I love you. And that scares me, because I've never seen a love that actually lasts. In the seventh grade, my parents split up, in eighth they divorced, and that's why my dad and I move to Britain. I haven't seen my mom since. And I know that it's probably going to be the same with you. Seeing every guy go around and flirt with every girl they see, why should any guy stick with one girl? I mean, does love even exist anymore? I'm scared that you'll go and just take advantage of ––"
And before Massie could finish her sentence, she was enveloped into Derrick's arms, and she felt that false sense of protection once again.
"Derrick, I can't do this."
"And why the fuck not?"
"Because, I don't want to deal with the disappointment that's going to inevitably show up. I need something stable in my – "
"Shut the fuck up, Mass," he interrupted in his cocky, supercilious manner, "Nothing is fucking stable. You can't build up those gates and just stop living to shield yourself from heartbreak or disappointment. Life is all about disappointments, and there's nothing stable about love. Love is just about as high-fucking-maintenance as you are, and it's as moody and changing and unpredictable as you are. But if you love me, then it's worth a shot. Because you'll just end up regretting it if you don't try. So, do you love me or not?"
"Derrick –"
"Answer the damn question," he snapped, eyebrows raised, smirking in his smug, Derrick Harrington way.
Massie rolled her eyes. "Yes."
Derrick's smirked grew bigger, his arms wrapped tighter around her waist, and his lips caressed hers with that soft, electrifying chemistry. "I thought so."
"I can't believe my heart is saying, 'don't resist him,' that I've been on my guard too long. I can't believe my heart surrendered when I kissed him."
- Disney's Hercules's cut song "I Can't Believe My Heart"
So, how was it? Good, bad, ugly? Please, please review! Please. :D Love you all.
- Faith :D