Disclaimer: Lisi Harrison owns the Clique.
I feel like I made Derrick too much of an asshole in this chapter.
Oh, and Happy Canada Day and Early Fourth of July!
Up and down, forward and back.
The directions of the baseball, so simple, yet, it intrigues him.
He stares intently, his arms moving as he throws the object up and then catching it when it falls down. He begins to think, drawing back earlier, school, specifically, the dreaded assignment. A baseball can have four different directions, perhaps even four various paths. Really, it depends on where the person would throw it. Quietly, pondering more, his eyes closes, once he has and knows the ball is securely in his palms.
And then it hits him.
He's thinking about school, when it's over.
Derrick groans, pushing himself off his bed, his eyes wide open, lingering for a while, until it shifts to another view aside from his ceiling, a person, his best friend, Cam.
The black-haired boy with two mismatched, and whimsical—though, the blonde would never tell him that in person—eyes. His best friend since elementary school, and if he were to count, they been friends for eight long years, so it isn't shocking to him that Cam can read him like an open book.
"Stop thinking so hard," Cam says softly, he cracks his fist, while spinning on Derrick's computer chair in a complete 360, only to stop after a few seconds. "The assignment won't be that difficult."
"Easy for you to say," Derrick knits his eyebrows, forming a glare; he scoffs, oh so, diligently. "You have Alicia as a partner and not some unknown chick." He adds with a mumble.
A comedic, light-hearted smile spreads on Cam's lips, he chuckles. "Well, if you remember, Derrick." A pause emerges, "Alicia isn't the brightest."
And not a moment wasted, Derrick's glare deepens, he runs his fingers sleekly through his blonde tresses, willing himself not to pull it out, because of all the annoyance of stress. The blonde opens his mouth, spilling words, without missing a beat. "At least Alicia is easy on the eyes."
"Derrick."
Derrick gives a smirk, crossing his arm. He knows he's acting like a total douche, but he convinces himself with an answer that he is human after all, and needs to vent, and who else, better than Cam? "No I'm being fucking serious, I'll take anyone over that girl, hell, even Strawberry would have been a better candidate."
Cam frowns. He knows, like, knows Derrick, they known each other for so long, that if they were related, they would be slated as twins. And he knows that his best friend will feel guilty of what he says, he just wishes the blonde wouldn't take his attitude out on people they didn't know, personally. Derrick's personal and family life was and still is tough, to say at least, clearly it affects the blonde in many continuous ways. In the past few years, the brunette notice the slight changes in personality and sudden outburst, and guiltily enough, Cam let his best friend's comments slide, but taking it out on some innocent girl? This is where he draws the line.
"Come on, Harrington." Cam shoots quietly, "Claire doesn't seem that bad." Derrick scoffs once again, though it doesn't stop his best friend from continuing. "She's kind of cute in her own way."
A wicked smile twists on Derrick's face, he forces out a cruel laugh. "Yeah, if your into plain broads, that don't give a shit about their appearances. I mean, she doesn't even attempt to put makeup on, and did you see her shit-ass clothes? It looks she shops at a fucking thrift store." The words come gurgling out faster than he thought it would, and he's about to say more, despite the guilt building up inside, only to shut up when he hears Cam interject.
"God, you're so fucking shallow, man. Is that all you care about? Appearances?"
Surprisingly, Derrick quiets down, when Cam rants, he rants. The brunette has always been the voice of reason from his group of friends, the kind one.
"You don't even know Claire. But you have the fucking audacity to call out by the way she looks?" Cam snaps with clear anger in his voice, "That's pretty hypocritical of you, Derrick."
The blonde knows where Cam is going with all of this, but really, he doesn't want to go there any more. His eyes shut momentarily, somehow, it helps him block out at hearing his friend. It isn't until he hears the last part of Cam's speech, does his brown eyes pop back open.
"—you're better than that, Derrick. It's just that lately you been more aggressive and shallow about everything and everybody."
Stillness emerges in the room, they don't say anything, and Cam doesn't go further, to press on, because he knows Derrick doesn't like talking about his family's past. But what surprises him, is the softness and vulnerability of the blonde's voice.
"I know," Derrick says, "You're right about it okay? I shouldn't take it out on her—Claire." He flashes a small, smile, which they both can understand is genuine, for now. "I know I'm being a total asshole right now."
"Glad to hear it."
Derrick shrugs, a conflicted look settles on his features, but he erases it before his friend notices it. He then nods his head as Cam excuses himself to get a snack. Once his friend leaves completely, the blonde plops down on his bed once more, going back to the action of throwing the ball up and down.
His thoughts drifts back to the conversation they just had, and when he really, really thinks about it, Claire wasn't that bad, hell, she wasn't even an eyesore. He did manage to get a good look at her face when he went up to give her a handshake, and Cam was right, she was cute in her own way.
He was just being an asshole about it and the guilt that was now surfacing was proof of it.
Not that he would ever admit it aloud to others (about Claire's appearance and him, being an ass) because, that's just who he is.
