Sweet Poison

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A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed this story. Thanks for the support!

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Layne didn't come to school the next day. I arrived at school at seven fifty, but she wasn't there, waiting on the steps like yesterday. I sat, waiting for her, near where I saw her yesterday. She wasn't there by seven fifty-five. After a while I saw I had a companion. It was Meena, one of the girls from the party.

"Hey," she waved. She seemed friendly enough. I waved back.

"Hey, Meena, do you happen to have Layne's number?" Meena nodded and dug into her turquoise bag, until she pulled out her EnV. She gave me her number, and I entered it into my address book. The phone rang a few times before someone picked up.

"Layne?" I asked.

"Ugh, not so loud, please. Who is this?" I could hear Layne mumble.

"It's Claire. Where are you, why aren't you at school?" I heard a muffled sound in the ground, that sounded like fabric. She must still be in bed, nursing her hangover.

"Claire, I feel like shit. I'm in no mood to go to school." I scowled.

"That's what happens when you get plastered." I chastised. I heard her groan.

"Look," I advised "Take some Advil, drink some water and take a vitamin." repeating my aunt Stacey's advice. It was the only worthwhile thing I had learned from her. "Then get your ass to school." I hung up on her. I put my phone away.

"Sounds like your friend's pretty hung-over." I heard a new voice say behind me. I swiveled and saw a blonde girl with a David Beckham bag speaking to me. I vaguely recognized her from the gang of girls known as the 'Pretty Committee'. She sat down in the spot Meena had been sitting a few minutes ago. She smiled.

"Kristen Gregory." I smiled backed .Kristen seemed genuine, unlike some of the other girls I had seen so far. I introduced myself. And for the few minutes before eight I found we had a lot in common. We both loved soccer, thought the Euro 2008 Final was epic, came from the depths of Suburbia, and felt the same thing about vegemite-it was disgusting. I also found out there were open practices for the girl's soccer team. I thought about stopping by. But soon, Ms Adeel came and unlocked the front door.

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Today was the first practice for the ODH's soccer team, the Athenians. It turns out Kristen was the captain, which put me at ease a bit. I had played some soccer when I was younger, sure, but never played on a school team before. And it didn't help I had an audience. The entire boy's soccer team from ODH's brother school, Briarwood Day, was watching the try-outs. I was nervous, but pulled up my new soccer socks and ran out on the field. I heard my name and saw Kristen jogging out towards me.

"Hey!" she called as she ran over. I jogged over to meet her.

"Glad you could come."

I nodded. "Me too. Looks like you've got a lot of hopefuls." She looked at the wannabes, all of them passing to each other, or shooting at the empty goal.

"Yeah, but some of them aren't worth shit." I looked over to where she was staring, and saw she was right. Some weren't all that great, but I was sure I'd be the same way too. I nodded anyway.

"We're short our goalie from last year. She graduated. We've got two lined up, together they're one passable goalie." she joked. I laughed as required, even if I didn't feel it.

"Well, come on. Let's get this over with."

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Turns out, I suck at passing. I tried to remember to visualize where the person was going to be, but always passed it to where they were. Obviously the coach wasn't too pleased. But I was better at stopping balls. Unfortunately for me, it was with my body. But it seemed the coach had other plans for me. She put me in goal, and I stopped three quarters of the balls that came my way. Yippee. I only wish I wasn't sore. Right now, I was icing my shin, where I was hit, and then twisted my ankle funny. The coach said it was nothing rest and ice couldn't fix. I counted myself lucky. A shadow passed over my calf, and saw it the same boy from the party last night.

"Um, hey?" he smiled awkwardly.

"Hi. Uh, Cam right?" I replied cordially. He nodded.

"What'cha do to your shin?" he remarked, seeing the ice.

"Oh, I got hit and twisted my ankle," I laughed nervously "I'm honestly more worried about my ankle, But I'm sure I'll be okay." He sat down beside me, and peered at the wreck that was my shin and ankle.

"Shit, that looks like it hurt." I laughed low.

"It did." we sat in awkward silence until he broke it.

"So, are you the goalie permanently?" I shook my head

"I dunno. It's the coach's call. What are you?"

" Left middie, sometime forward. I'm left footed, so it's easier for me." I whistled.

"You don't meet many left footed people. Oh- hey practice is over." It was. I could se girls coming off the field, some running to meet their boyfriends, others walking slowly.

"Hey," he started. "Wanna meet some of my friends?" I nodded slowly.

"Sure," He helped me up and I tested my ankle by putting some weight on it. It hurt, but it was nothing I couldn't ignore. I hobbled over to a spot on the bleachers where four girls and a few guys were having a conversation. My heart sank when I realized it was Massie's Pretty Committee. But I followed Cam anyway, to where the four guys and Massie's clique were sitting. I licked my dry lips, and could almost feel the sweat beginning to bead on my palms. But I smiled anyway.

"Guys, this is Claire." he introduced.

"Hi," I squeaked out.

"That's Derrick," a shaggy-haired boy waved. "That's Kemp," The black-haired boy winked at me. " Josh," The preppier boy smiled. "And lastly, that's Chris."

"Hey." he responded.

"And you know Massie, Alicia and Dylan." They smiled. I saw Dylan lean over and whisper something in Massie's ear. She looked at Cam, me and giggled. My stomach turned.

"So, Cam, are you coming to D's party on Saturday?" Massie asked, batting her eyes coyly. Cam shrugged.

"Sure. I'll come. Where's it again?" Massie seemed almost put off about his cavalier attitude.

"CluB-52." she answered. She finally looked me.

"By the way Clara, you should come too." She stood up "Well, I gotta go. Girls?" the rest, including Kristen got up and said good-bye. The rest of the guys stood up from the bleachers and left.

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"So…What is CluB-52 exactly?" I asked Layne as I popped some of my Orbit. I had learned never to trust Layne's super sour gum. She flipped over on her stomach on her bed, smooshing her math textbook.

"It's a night club. It was owned some 80's groupie. Anyway, it's actually really hot right. I wonder how Dylan managed to reserve it…" I shrugged my shoulders. I was actually on the floor, writing my essay for World History class about World War II.

"What should I wear?" I wondered aloud. Layne sat up,

"Okay, that's done with. What' were you saying Claire?" I rolled my eyes

"I was asking 'what should I wear?'."

Layne pushed herself off of her bed, and opened her closet.

"What were you thinking on wearing?" she asked. I shrugged.

"I dunno. A miniskirt?" Layne scrutinized her closet. She picked out a purple halter dress.

"What about this?" She held it up for me to see. It was pretty enough, with a little lace on the neck-line. I liked it.

"Yeah, it's pretty. It's a pretty color. Where'd you get it?"

"My mom got it for me at Bloomindales last month. I've never worn it." She tossed the dress onto the bed. I got up and peeked inside the neckline and fished out the tag. I almost dropped it. 750! Seven. Hundred. And fifty. Dollars. Who would pay that much for a fucking dress?! Even if it is adorable, seven hundred fifty is ridiculous. I asked Layne why.

"Here's why," she explained "When you pay for designer clothing, you're also paying for the icon of the clothes. Like the 'G' in Gucci, or the 'C' in Coach."

"Oh." I understood it a little bit more. I dug inside to find the tag. I looked at the brand. It was a Dolce and Gabbana dress. The price made more sense now.

"You can have the dress for the party.," I heard Layne saying. "Oh, speaking of which, here's your clothes back." She handed me my uniform, folded and clean.

"The maid washed them." she giggled. "She washes everything of mine."

"Thanks. I'll get your dress and shoes back to you." Layne sighed.

"Keep it. I've got plenty." My eyes widened.

"Seriously?"

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I stood outside of CluB-52. They were two bulky men standing outside of the door, keeping people uninvited out. I bit my lip and walked up to one.

"Name?" the one bodyguard asked.

"Claire. Lyons." I choked out of nervousness. He flipped through the pages on a clipboard. He took a pen, and scribbled something. Then he lifted the velvet rope to the open doors.

"Enjoy the party."

"Um… Thank you?" I asked before I was pushed in by a current of glamorously dressed people. Luckily, I blended right in, thanks to my couture godmother. Girls in sky high heels drank pomegranate martinis out of delicate glasses. Strobe lights blinded me, and I blinked, trying to rid my eyes of the spots. Steps led to a loft, and a colorful blend of couture and jewelry swirled. Guys pushed each others, egging each other on to ask out one of the already trashed girls. Couples danced to high pulsing techno, and the place seemed like a foreign universe. I bit my thumbnail, an old nervous habit I thought I had already broken. I walked up to the loft slowly, avoiding drinking swerving towards me. I finally ascended to the upper level. I saw large red couches in the Middle eastern style, with mosquito nets and netting forming a tent. And in the largest, sat Massie, Dylan, Kristen and Alicia. My throat locked, and I could almost taste the metallic tinge of pennies. I remembered the harsh words from my first day. I was about to turn and go back downstairs when Kristen spotted me.

"Claire!" she called. Damn, caught. I smiled anyway and turned.

"Kristen, hey!" I walked over, straight into the lion's den. Massie was content as a cat waiting for me- the incredibly stupid canary- to walk over to be her dinner. I stood, noticing there were no available cushions.

"Hey you guys." they gave similar responses.

"So, um Dylan, how is it you got this place for your party?" Massie laughed.

"EhmahGawd, that is just too cute! She doesn't know!"

"Know what?' I asked, feeling incredibly stupid. Dylan only smirked.

"My mom is Merri-Lee Marvil. That's how I 'got this place'." she put air quotes around my words. It took all the strength I had to keep my jaw off the floor. This girl was Merri-Lee's daughter?! The number one morning talk show host in the U.S.A.? My eyes were wide as dinner plates. I heard my name and turned. Kristen was pointing to a small berth of space on the couch. I sat.

"Having any fun?" she asked. I nodded. Yeah, this was about as fun as getting bitten by King Cobras in the Amazon. The rest of Kristen's friends were talking about the latest sample sale at Barney's. I don't think Kristen was listening. I licked my lips, the taste of my cherry lip gloss on my tongue.

"I'm gonna go get a drink. Um, Kristen, do you want anything?" I asked. She shook her head.

"I'm good."

"'Kay, be right back." I got up to leave, but out of the corner of my eye I could already see the girls-minus Kristen- giggling into their palms. I walked through the grinding and swaying music, the music thumping in my ears. I made my way to the mini-bar. The 'bartender' was a kid who looked hardly older than me. He was probably a junior at Briarwood School for Boys. He turned from a pretty blonde girl and stuffed a napkin into his pants pocket.

"What can I get you sweetness?" he leered. I raised an eyebrow.

"How'd you get all this liquor?" I asked him. He laughed

"Got it off one of my friends down the block. His dad runs the liquor store."

"Oh."

"So, what drink do you want?" I looked up. He smiled at me.

"Primavera, please."

"You got it." he turned away to make my drink. I leaned against the bar, and just watched the dancers on the floor. Disturbia was playing, and I nodded my head to the rhythm. I noticed halfway through the song another person standing beside me. The rapidly blinking lights revealed his face. Cam, from the party.

"Cam?" I asked incredulously. He turned.

"Claire! Hey!"

"Uh..hi. What're you doing here?" I could have slapped myself. Of course he was here. He was invited!

"I was invited." he answered simply. I felt a nudge in my back and saw my drink. I turned and drank, savoring it's sweet flavor. I licked my lips.

"By who?"

He answered simply. "Massie." I almost dropped my drink. Massie? Why would she invite him? The answer came unbidden into my head. The way she spoke around him, the way her body language changed when she was near him. It was so obvious she liked him. To everyone, it seemed, except me. I wonder how long she's been like this?

"Excuse me," I said curtly. Forgetting my drink, I tore desperately through the crowd, tears streaming. I pushed open a back door, and found myself standing on a balcony. I had no idea this level of the club was above ground. The balcony was a very seductive, intimate place. There was a small loveseat, covered in Middle Eastern styled pillows in oranges and golds. Votive candles were scattered across a coffee table, it's wax scarring the table.

"Pretty right?" I almost shrieked. I turned, and saw Cam Fisher standing behind me.

"Are you stalking me or something?" I panted. He shook his head.

"You looked upset." I looked away quickly, wiping my eyes discreetly, to make sure he could see my tears. I sat down on the loveseat. I looked up at the sky, it's stars almost indistinguishable from the light pollution. I gave a long sigh.

"Nothing's wrong." I lied. Cam sat down beside me, his eyes never wavering from mine. He finally broke contact and looked at the sky.

"You know, the thing I miss most? The stars. You could lay down on my deck and just, watch. My dad had a huge telescope, and we'd just look at them, and try to count them." He closed his eyes for a moment.

"Sounds fun." I replied, twisting my fingers in my lap. He looked at me.

"You have beautiful eyes." he complimented.

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"No," he smiled. "Just you." He leaned in, and his lips brushed mine. My eyes widened, but soon my lips relaxed against his. His hand cupped my cheek. Those few seconds felt like blissful hours. Cam pulled away, gasping. My heart was beating wildly. I opened my mouth, but closed it, only smiling. He ran his fingers through my hair.

"I'm glad I met you Claire Lyons."

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Disc.: I own nothing you recognize.