Wow, long time, no see, reader! I'm soooo sorry for the late update. I was in Cape Cod for a week and I was brainstorming for some ideas. The rest of the time I was just being lazy. I was so happy with the reviews! Please keep it up!
Chapter 2
Massie grabbed her white, leather Hermes. The girls did the same. Massie grinned excitedly. She was going to be Queen Bee, and she was going to let the freshmen know it. Marching out of the silver Range Rover, head held high, 4 girls behind her did the same. Relax, she told herself again. You can do it. Derrington is inside, waiting. I hope, she winced slightly. She put on her alpha face, a face that looked down on the rest of the school, claiming her territory like a feral cat.
Claire tried to mimic Massie's face, but she couldn't. She never was alpha. Always omega. At least try to look professional, Claire thought. She wringed her designer hand-knit Stevie nervously. What if Cam found a new girlfriend while she was in Orlando? A summer crush? Oh God, please no, She pleaded. Please don't let him find another girl.
Dylan felt her hair nervously. Did Chris like down, or up? They had only been dating for a month, which according to Massie, wasn't a very long time. Dylan reminisced the last soccer game of the season. She winced as she remembered.
It was the last game of the season, Tomahawks vs. Chiefs, 15-16. Chris was center-field. Cam was passing the ball to him. The entire school was there, including the Pretty Committee. Dylan screamed louder than the rest of the girls, so excited she had a boyfriend with a star soccer player, to have a boyfriend at all. Chris dribbled the black-and-white ball with obvious finesse. The whole school chanted the team name, Chris's name, excited. If Chris Plovert could get this last goal, the Tomahawks would win the tournament. He had to get this last goal. Just as he was about to kick the soccer ball into the Chief's goal, just as the last 3 seconds were about to end the game, he fell to the ground, screaming. The buzzer gave out. The Chiefs had won. Chris was still on the ground, unable to move. Dylan shoved Massie. "He's not moving!" She screamed. "Oh Gawd, he's not moving!" A scream for an ambulance rang out. Chris had to go to the hospital on a stretcher, hooked up to IVs, unconscious. The Pretty Committee and the soccer team went with him, along with his crying family. He was sent straight to the OR for some reason. He was in there for the longest time. Dylan's mind buzzed with questions. Why in the OR? Was her boyfriend OK? When would he come out? Did he die? When the surgeon finally came out of the Operating Room, no one was allowed in, not even his family. He had to talk to Chris's parents alone. When they were released, his mother was crying violently, blaming herself for something. More than anything, Dylan wanted to comfort Mrs. Plovert, but she couldn't if she didn't even know what Chris had. Chris was kept in the hospital for the last 2 weeks of school. No one allowed in his room except his parents and little 9 year old sister, Josie. The Ploverts explained to the boys (and Dylan) kindly that Chris was too embarrassed to see them. They never said what Chris had.
Dylan blinked, the memory fading away. She was clutching her silvery Coach nervously. Perhaps Chris was back and recovered? She still loved him as much as she did before, maybe more now. She had spent her summer in Brazil, getting tan, sipping virgin piña coladas, and fretting about her Plovert. Was he ok? She had no idea. She hoped to God he was.
Alicia was like an egg. A Ralph Lauren stylized egg. A hard shell on the outside, but a runny mess on the inside. Josh and her had agreed to have sex tomorrow night. Not tonight because of soccer tryouts, which of course he would get in. She had started the conversation by sexting a little. Just a little. Then she asked if they were going to have sex soon. She would turn 16 in 4 days. He turned 16 a month ago. He wanted to give her, as he said, a "birthday treat. ;)" Alicia was ready. At least, that's what she thought. She just didn't want to get pregnant. She was super nervous, her pits sweating like crazy. Thank goodness for Degree, she thought. She sniffed her Angel perfume-soaked wrists for relief. Her nerves were steadied immediately. Yes, she defiantly needed to hit the Westchester Mall after this.
Kristen frowned inside. Everything about her was wrong. Her outfit was unstylish, her boobs too small, and her lips needed gloss. She corrected her last mistake, using MAC Cloud 9 clear lip gloss. The sweet vanilla bean taste made her realize another mistake. She, unlike the rest of the Pretty Committee, didn't have a boyfriend. She dated Kemp once, for 2 weeks, but she broke it off. He never really cared about her anymore then a soccer buddy and friend. Kristen admitted she felt that way too. Kristen thought about how hard she worked to stay in the scholarship program. Her parents couldn't afford the school's expensive intake, but luckily, Kristen's brains let her in via scholarship. But that meant she had to stay in. With soccer practice, studying, and sleepovers at Massie's, Kristen had no more room for a boyfriend. Plus, her mother never approved of any of the boys she dated. Kristen remembered the rant her mother had against Kemp Hurley and Dune Baxter, the only boys that could stand to date her. Her mother said she only had to find the special someone. Well, she thought, I better find him today.
Behold, reader! 2 hours of nonstop writing! I hope I can update tomorrow, I really want to get to a certain point soon.
Once again, super duper sorry about not updating for 2 weeks. I was in Cape Cod, and before, I had to go to summer school everyday for 3 hours, and the big final was coming up. I got a C+. Well, I tried. :p I love all of you so much! Thanks for reading this crap, favoriting, following, reviewing… All that stuff really makes me feel so happy and blessed. Please review! I love to have some motivation that someone actually wants me to update and continue. So, yah, thanks!
-Mathilda out.
