Authors' Note: Whee! My turn! Everyone who guessed that last chapter came by courtesy of the zany and fab Dernier Cri: bravo, bravo! Reviews make me smile!
Chapter One
A sea of bitterness threatened to swallow her up as she waded in the azure water, soaking her apple-red tights and causing her denim shorts to cling to her legs with dear hope. In that moment, he found such a natural beauty in her and it occurred to him that she looked more perfect now — sleepy-eyed and wet — than she did all made up in designer apparel and professionally-applied makeup.
"Hey," he said, because that was all there was to say.
"Hey," she replied slowly, without bothering to open her eyes.
In the pale glow of twilight, as the sun's explosion of colour subsided, she let the tears flow. It hurt him endlessly to look at the delicate droplets dripping from her amber eyes, but she looked so fragile; breakable; beautiful, that he had to take a step or two towards the angelic brunette.
She could hear his feet pattering towards her, sand squishing beneath his toes. Waves crackled and crashed against her legs and it occurred to the girl to pull off her tights. Under normal circumstances, as any girl with decency and a boy in the general vicinity would, she contemplated coyly telling him "No peeking!"
Pausing, she recycled the idea through her mind.
Why did it matter if he saw her underwear? They were just friends.
Almost as if the universe was feeling prudish, faint shadows played across her thighs, her calves, as she unzipped her shorts, then pulled off the tights and tossed them in a crumpled pile of sand on the private beach's shore.
She giggled, loving the freedom and shivered in her underwear and airy white tank top. He always complimented her on the off days when her hair hadn't been brushed; she hadn't applied more makeup than a dab of Vaseline on her lips and a quick swipe of drug store mascara on her eyelashes; and especially when she was wearing jeans, a white t-shirt and going barefoot.
It was a universal truth that guys loved "the natural look" on a girl.
His eyes — one green, one blue — widened at the sight of her. It was such an intimate way to look at your best friend, but she didn't seem to mind.
"Come on." A smile played across her chapped lips. "The water's getting warmer now."
The boy frowned, recognition of how overdressed he was passing through his differently-coloured eyes. "Right now?" He clarified, feeling like an idiot as she turned, smiled, and over-dramatically rolled her eyes.
"Yes. Right. Now."
He pulled off his leather jacket, faded band tee and, after looking down at his jeans, rolled his pant cuffs up to knee-length.
He was shy; she was not. They were like fire and ice, but that'd always worked out well for them. Until that moment. When she was in her underwear and he was bare-chested and all their inhibitions had been thrown out the window. Or rather, thrown onto the sand with their clothes.
"You know," he said, reaching her pale, shivering figure and grasping at her knuckles. "I've never been kissed before."
"Really?" She sounded amused, but tried her best to keep her tone even. "Well, I guess that makes me the elusive Cam Fisher's first kiss, huh?"
"I guess so."
"Ralph Lauren." Alicia Rivera pointed to her own handbag.
"Betsey Johnson." Her long, impeccably-manicured finger trailed across Dylan Marvil's loudly printed tote.
"Gucci." She smiled in the general vicinity of Claire Lyons' sleek black purse. Of course the purse was a hand-me-down from Massie, but no one needed to know that.
"And… Oh? What have we here? A no-name diaper bag for Massie?" Alicia smirked widely, showing off her dentist-approved teeth and setting off a chorus of laughter— Kristen Gregory's nasal snort could be heard distinctly above all other noises.
"You forgot Kristen. Again." Feeling almost…nervous, Massie shifted her weight from foot-to-foot, wondering what she'd done to Alicia and why a giant hypothetical pole was shoved up her ass. This kind of thing usually only happened to Claire when Alicia played this mean-spirited game of hers. And now, just because she hadn't spent the summer tanning and gabbing with them, Massie was the outsider?
"Whatevs." Alicia's sparkling brown eyes rolled so far back in her head they could've easily disappeared. "Let's go."
Massie and the rest of her close-knit circle of friends, who had named themselves the Pretty Committee in the seventh grade and the name had stuck, strutted through the marble-floored hallway. She idly noticed the CAUTION: WET FLOOR signs strategically placed around the third floor corridor by Briarwood-Octavian's creepy janitor. The Pretty Committee loved playing "Guess what he was in jail for?" every time the bald man walked past.
"So…" Kristen had evidently forgot to take off her soccer cleats again, as the light popping sound against the floor was starting to drive everyone mad. "How was your vacation Mass?"
Brushing a stray blond lock away from her glossed lips, Claire chimed in, "Yeah!" Her voice softened. "We didn't hear from you all summer."
A pang of resentment pierced Massie's heart. Claire was the uncontested whiner of the group, always finding something to complain about. When something really struck her however, it was not uncommon to find salty tears stinging her ocean-blue eyes.
Claire blushed and looked away. She rubbed her index finger along the line of her navy blue mascara. Since when did Claire know how to put on her own makeup? Massie frowned at the sight of Claire's glossy, plucked, shimmery, shiny face. It was an unwelcome feature.What have they done to you? Where has your personality gone?
"He-llo? Earth to Massie!" Dylan waved a well-manicured hand in front of Massie's dazed face. Her expression had momentarily turned to stone.
Massie blinked.
"Oh. Uh, my summer. Well, it was definitely different." The ghost of a sad smile passed by. She blinked again; recoiled. "Italy's amazing in the summer. Just— wow!"
Everything had seem so simple in Italy; so clear and easy. Here, it was just a whirlpool of hurt, confusion and three-hundred-dollar blowouts.
Venice was beautiful. That's when Mia was born. Mia Avery Fine. Fine, Massie thought bitterly. Mr. Fine was the worst of Kendra's long procession of husbands. Everything about him: from his lopsided grin to his madras shorts to his Charlie Brown-esque bald head with four distinct blond hairs poking up, weirded her out. More than that, he never frowned.
A smile—whether these smiles were genuine was still to be determined— was omnipresent on his perma-tanned face as was it on the face of his two children; a boy and a girl. The boy was twelve, the girl was Massie's age.
Another thing that bugged Massie about Thomas, Todd and Taylor Fine was their religion. Born-again Christians who didn't let a day pass without attempting to convert Massie. Kendra had already gone over to the dark side.
Kendra's fall-winter collection was purely horrendous. The hemlines had been lowered to the ankles, or at very least the knees; necklines were high, allowing no cleavage to be shown. Or, to put it simply, it was utterly dowdy.Mom's sales are going to suffer all because of Mr. Thomas Fine, his perfect children, and their religion. She had nothing against the Christians, she just wished they would keep their damn religious views to themselves. Taylor was thrilled that Kendra had opted to use her as the model of their new line of tippets instead of Massie, who had flat-out refused to do so until Kendra returned the cocktail dresses back to the racks where they belonged. The ribbed tights, at least! But no. Kendra had found her new vision and was sticking to it.
"So?" Alicia raised an eyebrow, silently berating the alpha (or former alpha; she wouldn't know since her friends were acting like the bitches she never realized they actually were) and Massie felt her fingers curl into fists. "Any new outfits for winter?"
Massie started to bite her lower lip but stopped herself just in time. No. She would not be a Claire. "My mother's gone in a... different direction." Not a lie.
Eh? (I just had to say that because I'm Canadian. I have never, ever said that aloud unless I was using it sarcastically.) Opinions, anyone?
