This story kinda starts off slow, but the juicy stuff is coming. Promise. Ask Nicole.

My parents get home from New Orleans today, so I don't know when I'll be able to get on again. I'll try. Pinky promise (:

This chapter is dedicated to Hannah, because she isn't as evil as Nicole and isn't bribing me :P
Haha don't worry I still love you Nic!
But I'll love you even more when Chapter 11 is up.... ;)

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DISCLAIMER: Yo no tengo el Clique. Es de Lisi Harrison.

"Hey baby, wanna go somewhere quiet?" He slurred, a full bottle of beer in his iron grip.

She leaned back against the solid wooden beam, feeling the crispy hay raking through her bare legs. She had already heard she was his next conquest.

"How about no?" She swept her bangs off to the side of her forehead, showing off her good side.

"I don't like that word," He purred drunkenly, suddenly pushing her flat against the pole and slamming his lips onto hers.

Massie stifled a scream.

Clutching her pillow, she tried to steady her ragged breathing. That night just kept haunting her, no matter how hard she tried to shake it.

Tucking her knees up to her chest, she flipped onto her side to see the clock. 5:43 AM. Not too bad.

Her parents had been more or less supportive of her moving back in. As long as she went to school and behaved. And she was going to try. For real. No more excessive drinking, reckless partying, or out-of-control driving. This was her fresh start.

Sliding off her cushy bed, she glanced around her old room. Exactly how she had left it two years ago.

The bay window beckoned invitingly, and she obliged, drifting across the silky wood floor to gaze at the early morning perfection.

The outside world was empty, silent, serene; in the way only early summer mornings can be. She peeked down at her outfit. A cami and an old pair of shorts. She let her amber gaze wander back to the window, and decided it didn't matter what she was wearing. No one was out, but she needed to be.

She tripped lightly down the back stairs, careful not to wake her parents or Inez. The back door opened silently, and she cautiously stepped out onto the deck, taking in the recently-renovated pool and elaborate stone fireplace. What was it with her parents and redecorating?

Barefoot, she padded across the blanket-like grass, breathing in the distinctive smell of summer. Of a fresh start.

The equally-distinctive sound of a soccer ball thwacking a net crashed her thoughts.

In the yard that backed up to her house, a boy about her age was kicking a ball around. Shirtless. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she leaned as far as she could off the railing of the deck to get a clearer view.

He was something of a heartthrob. Messy brown hair, deep blue eyes, abs to die for, and a killer tan. He moved out of sight behind a tree line, and she pushed herself just a little bit further.

Big mistake. Before she knew it, she was tumbling downwards, and with a shriek of surprise, she landed in the rippling pool.

She surfaced quickly, slicking her dismally wet hair back and muttering a string of curses to herself. A dark spot clouded over her.

"That was some show you put on there," Hot Soccer Guy grinned, offering her a hand out. "What are you doing here?"

Massie grimaced at his hand and replied, "Um, I live here."

Hot Soccer Guy's eyes widened. "Since when?"

She forced herself to stare directly into his stunningly blue eyes. "Since yesterday. Who are you?"

He smiled again, that mind-shattering grin that made her heart thump. "Chris Plovert. And you are?"

She returned his smile this time. "Massie Block. Nice to meet you."

She stuck her dripping hand out to shake his, and in one quick motion, she had yanked him into the pool beside her. "Gotcha!"

She easily hopped out of the water, wringing out her sopping shirt. She had to laugh at the sheer confusion, mingled with approval, on his face.

"Are you always this mean to strangers?" Chris joked, pushing himself off the side of the wall and climbing out.

"Just ones I haven't met," She managed to say with a straight face.

"Funny," He said, shaking his saturated hair at her, causing her to squeal and duck.

Were they flirting? More or less. Look how that ended up last time.

She felt her face go ashen. "Hey, well, it was nice talking to you. See you around!"

Without another word, she took the stairs two at a time, wincing when she felt a sharp splinter gorge itself into her foot.

"Did I do something?" Chris shouted after her, clearly perplexed.

"It's a long story, but I really just have to get out of here," She panted. Guilt found its way into her head. He didn't deserve that, but she couldn't shut the nagging little voice in her head up. Funny how it sounded just like Dylan Marvil's...

The back door opened with a muffled click and she let herself into the kitchen. The microwave clock flashed 6:18. Did the mall open this early? She highly doubted it, but there was nothing like retail therapy to clear her head and fill her closet.

Ehh. I don't like this chapter, but there are some things I have to get said and done before the real plot can happen (:

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