Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.
Author's Note: I know, I know! This one is very short, but I had to post it. Any suggestions on who should make an appearance next?
Lips popped open. Eyes widened. Hearts stopped. Okay, the last one was a bit of hyperbole, but come on. What else was I supposed to say? "Eyebrows raised"? How cliché is that?
Abby Boyd, sporting a little gamine 'do courtesy of Supercuts or one of those other chains moms take their misbehaving kids, grinned as she delicately placed a hand on her jutted-out hip. A real, live movie star. Wow-ee.
"Ehmagawd!" the members of the NPC squealed behind me, puckering their lips and forming a cocoon around the pleasantly boring teen starlet. Abby was wearing — Aw, who really cares? She already got a whole book devoted to her faux-ness and glittering eye makeup.
Behind the long-legged brunette was Connor Foley. He winked and instantly Dylan and Kristen went weak in the knees. Alicia rolled her eyes. In between ridiculously, obviously fake-coughs she choked "Old news!" For once, and probably last, I agreed with Alicia Rivers.
Meanwhile, Claire found comfort in Kristen's old corner. She was in the middle of a nervy, her eyebrows wiggling erratically, her blond hair frizzy and wild. It goes without saying, that her eyes were rimmed with red. A single tear made a track down her cheek like in oneof those Oscar-nominated films that never wins Best Picture. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say her nervy had to do with Connor's unwanted presence, but really, who knew with that girl? I bet that, in the next book, she admits to being totally preggers, knocked up, bun-in-her-oven. Only the pregnant can be so emotionally unstable and hormonal...
"Where's Velvet?" Connor asked in a grossly "does-this-sound-sexy-to-you?" way.
Everyone looked blankly at him.
Alicia Rivers got the in-joke first. Her dark eyebrows knit. Her pouty, WAY-over-glossed lips formed a straight line. "Oh. You mean Mah-ssie."
Kristen chimed in, hands on hips. "Massie's reign as NPC Alpha is o-ver."
"So over," Dylan burped. She giggled and covered her mouth with her wrist.
"Why must you repeat everything they say? Ehmagawd, that is so ah-nnoying —" Instantaneously, my palm smacked over my mouth. I looked at my hands; they were shaking wildly. A strange voice (which coincidentally sounded just like Darth Vader's, but my conscience has always sounded like that from watching the original Star Wars saga too many times as a child) went: Must apply gloss. Must apply gloss. MUST. APPLY. GLOSS!
As an internal battle was going on inside my mind (Good vs. evil), Abby was licking her lips in Cam's direction. Oblivious to the scene unfolding before them, the soccer boys (plus Mary Sue, natch) were playing gin. Every time Derrick won, he pulled down his shorts and exposed his pasty white butt cheeks. Classy. I didn't even bother to wonder why he was going commando. Maybe it was the unwritten rule of popularity, the Eleventh Commandment: Thou shalt not wear thy underpants.
Idly, I wondered if pointing out that Nina had snuck out the tunnel and was currently stuck inside of it — her skinny arms flailing like a drowning middle-aged man — was the right thing to do. Oh, well. She was a slut and a thief anyway. Her five-finger discount had snapped Mary Sue's headband off her pretty little perfect head. Nina attempted to pull some of Mary's hair off, believing they were extensions. Don't be fooled by her loveliness. She is one hundred percent au naturel.
"Um, hi."
No one bothered cranking their heads around to see who was there this time. It was getting ridiculous.
"Besides, like, aw-nestly." Alicia popped her banana-flavoured gum in her mouth. "Like, everyone on the A-List is here already. 'Cept for that socially awkward newborn giraffe with the twisted ankles. I have no clue why sheeee is here."
Massie chimed in, non-helpfully, from the tunnel she was lurking in, "It's probably some Blister."
"You have a blister?" I continued, "It's probably from those ugly-ass shoes of yours, girl. Isn't there some sort of a dress code at this school of improbabilities? DON'T YOU HAVE TO CLIMB STAIRS OR, um, WALK??"
"Walk?" Massie and her creepy eyes stared back at me, unblinking, from her tunnel. "What is this 'walk' of which you speak? Don't I have LBRs to do that for me?"
I placed my palm to my forehead. "Aw-nestly —" I stopped, mid-sentence. IT'S HAPPENING AGAIN! I'M TURNING INTO...ONE OF THEM. I could feel my hair becoming glossy...
"MWAH HA HA!" Massie cackled. "GABBI, I AM YOUR ALPHA!"
"HELLO?" With some struggle, a protest sign-wielding Layne Abeley, and "Meena" and "Heather" I have no defining characteristics for them, they are bland followers of Layne. I'm beginning to wonder if this "Lisi" character had some troubled childhood friendships. Everyone seems to be following someone and no one genuinely likes each other. God. Being at OCD was like being in some political pool of self-reflection. I really need to stop carrying on such long conversations with myself...
"Oh. Layne," Claire greeted weakly from her corner, where she was batting of Connor's flirting with her old beaded bracelets from Orlando. The ones that Massie-of-Jedi-mind-control made her throw away. "I'm sorry I didn't call you back... But, you know..."
"NO. I don't know, Miss Pretty Committee. You think that just because you're momentarily a member of 'OCD's hottest clique' you can completely ignore me...er, us?" Layne snapped.
In the background, Meena and Heather whispered, "Need some ointment for that wicked burn?"
"No... I — I..."
"Shut up, beyotch," Layne said with a flick of her wrist. "You're out of our Nameless Clique. In fact, you never were in. Go paint your nails or something."
As if reading from a pre-assigned college textbook, Kristen recited: "As members of the Pretty Committee, it is against our law to paint our nails ourselves. We must have them done by a professional, preferably one with a recommendation from our Alpha, Mary Sue."
And with that, Layne, Meena and Heather left, as the opening lyrics to a chant for their Cause of the Month — Save The Pointless Background Characters — started up.