a/n: i want to thank you all for the reviews, i love every single one and how long they are! pls always tell me your feelings, even if they are negative haha i try to incorporate what everyone wants in my rough outlines of each chapter.

this chapter is a monster. 36 pages, over 9,000 words. massie and claire's POV happen either before (massie) or during (claire) the last scene in the previous chapter, jsyk. alicia's POV is kind of lacking, but she didn't want to be written the way i wanted her, so i had to cut that. she'll show up in the next one. i hope you enjoy this, even if there is a hint of landon/massie (which there is) and it's pretty choppy (super choppy) and has probably a lot of run-on sentences (after editing this, yes, it does, i think).

i wrote a huge chunk of this while i was drunk, which works out since they were drunk. i also have observed real 18 year old boys at my sister's boy only friendsgiving party, which was wholesome and eye-opening so i'm here to tell you that boys like these clique ones i made actually do exist. a group of boys WILL in fact dance to party in the USA to make you feel better. just keep on lookin'!

P.S.: the present time storyline is in 2017, so everything that went down happened between 2014-2015.


Let's make the headlines, loud and true
I wanna tell the world I'm giving it all to you
Let's make the headlines, loud and clear
The best things suddenly happen when you are here
And if I lost my way you'd carry me home
Take me all the way to heaven, never leave me alone
And it's just like everything matters when you are near
- "Headlines (Friendship Never Ends)," Spice Girls

.

Josh angrily tugged at the neck of his sweat-drenched jersey, pulling it over his head and chucking it as far as it would go, which, it turned out, was not very far at all. The offending article of clothing fell in a pathetic heap not even two feet away; the letters of his last name reflected the stadium lighting at Briarwood's renovated soccer field, practically blinding him as he glared at the navy and burgundy monstrosity.

He threw himself down on the bottom bleacher, back sticking to the silver seat. His slightly muscled forearm covered his eyes, but it was like the scoreboard was burned in his retinas. Soccer wasn't a high scoring game and somehow…

7, 1. Hotchkiss Academy.

The Tomahawks were out of the playoffs. Josh proved he wasn't as valuable a teammate as the upperclassmen thought and Derrick's first game as starting goalie ended up with half a concussion and a shattered nose. He'd been so embarrassed, so infuriated, that he hadn't followed them into the locker room after the game. Hadn't listened to Coach Pierce's furious tirade. Instead he'd gotten cornered by his old Hotchkiss friends and he'd probably get kicked off his own team before first period the next day.

He groaned, the autumn chill nipping at his bare chest. The silence that surrounded him was both eerie and comforting; the crowd was long gone, the only sign that there had been one being the leftover litter of hot dogs and soft drinks and little streamers from pom poms the Student Council was selling as a fundraiser. His friends had left: Derrick straight to Massie (they must've made up some time between the goalie's nose breaking and the Tomahawks losing), Kemp and Plovert with Dylan, and Cam had gone looking for Claire.

Josh'd brushed off all of their concern, was short with Massie, ignored Kemp's sympathetic - though it felt more like pity - looks, and had snapped at his younger sister even though she only wanted to go out for ice cream. He felt like shit, looked like shit, probably smelled like shit, and there was literally nothing that could turn his mood around.

He had no idea how long he laid there, wallowing in his misery. The part of his brain that made sense of the passing of time was turned off. All he knew was the temperature was dropping.

And there were footsteps headed his way.

Josh stifled another groan. It was probably Alicia - she was the only one unaccounted for - and if he were being honest (and he rarely was these days) he didn't want to talk to her. Sure, she was hot as hell, but he just didn't have it in him to talk to her. She deserved more than he was willing to give right now: an apology for not taking her to Fall Formal, an explanation for attending Skye Hamilton's Famous Couples party with her instead, and the truth that he didn't actually believe in her annoying cousin's "Spanish Soccer Spell." None of them did, actually, but that mattered little. What mattered was he used it as a crutch, hiding behind it instead of telling her that he wasn't actually into her.

If he were a better person, he'd sit up and tell her all of that right now, but he wasn't, so he merely called out, "Alicia, now isn't a good time."

"It's not Alicia."

Josh shot up at the sweet voice, vertical in under three seconds, and he casually brushed the hair off his forehead, trying to make himself look like less of a miserable sod. "Claire!" he exclaimed. He cleared his throat, chastising himself for his obvious excitement. "What are you doing here? I figured you'd be with Cam."

"Cam?" she questioned, frowning. "No… I just wanted to check on you. You look like you could use some cheering up."

"Oh." Josh lifted his shoulder in a shrug. "Don't worry about me, Lyons."

"Of course I'm going to worry about you, Josh. You're…" She stopped herself, looking bashful, and changed course. "You honestly look like someone killed your dog."

He scoffed, looking away from her. "Thanks," he muttered. "You're doing really well at this cheering up thing."

"Hey!" She slapped his shoulder. "You don't know what my cheering you up is like. You told me not to worry!"

Josh fought the tiny quirk of his lips, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "When someone tells you not to worry, they actually want you to worry," he told her, squinting into the distance. He wondered if his mom did stay in the parking lot like she threatened.

Claire was silent for a moment. "It's not your fault, you know," she said softly, reaching a supportive hand out to him. "When the whole team drops the ball - pun totally intended - it's not one specific person's fault. You played really well. It was totally unfair of them to put all that pressure on you because you transferred from Hotchkiss - that was two years ago! How are you supposed to know what that team is like anymore?"

"Not much has changed," he admitted, twisting a spare thread around his finger until it turned white. "I could have easily stolen the ball on five separate occasions, I just… I fucking choked, Claire."

"And Derrick missed every goal except the one he took to the face," the blond retorted. "Your point?"

"I'm probably just not cut out for this," Josh mumbled, eyes downcast. "It was a lot easier and more fun in middle school. There was no… no added pressure. I kind of feel like I'm miserable playing this game now. Like…" He paused, wondering how much he could tell her, and found himself probably blurting out too much. "Derrick is too much now, he's always trying to be better than Klein and it's - it's brutal to hang out with him. And Kemp doesn't care, he never has, and Plovert is always half-high because he's afraid he's going to get injured again, and Cam is - "

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey." Claire forced him to look at her, hands on his cheeks to pull his face in her direction. "Look at me. Look at me, Josh, and listen, alright? You're a damn good soccer player. I don't even know anything about soccer, right, but I know this. This game is important to you, and that's why there's pressure. What you do matters."

"It matters, yeah," he agreed, mouth squished together. "It matters because today's game meant more than… more than a lot of things. Briarwood hasn't gotten this far in years, Claire, literal years."

"And guess what, Josh!" she said, applying more pressure to his face. "You have three more years of games that mean more than 'a lot of things.' You'll get 'em next time."

Josh blinked. "We will?"

"Don't really know if 'we' will, but I know you will."

"Thanks."

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as he looked into Claire's blue eyes, the color of a perfect summer's day, and he wished he could turn away, or wipe his palms on his shorts, or, you know, walk away like he had been since he met her. But she was right there, so close, and she was providing him with this reassurance that he wasn't aware he wanted or needed, filling some void that was hollowing out a place to stay in his stomach.

Maybe it was guilt. It could be guilt.

"...if you want," Claire was finishing. He'd missed the entire sentence.

"What was that?" he breathed, heart hammering in his chest. She could probably feel it.

Her gaze was piercing while she repeated herself. "You can kiss me if you want."

Yup, that void was guilt.

And it was guilt because he was a shitty friend, and he was so fucking angry, and he craved an intimate touch, and he'd just listened to Cam complain about his current predicament with Claire, pretended to be supportive, ignored Derrick's knowing glances…

And it was guilt because he was whacking Claire's hands from his face, transferring the smooth, pink skin of her cheeks to his own grasp, and he was slanting his mouth over hers, forcing a moan from her throat as he pried her lips open to deepen the kiss. She tasted like gummies and Josh ignored the tug in his gut that reminded him of the person who got her those candies in the first place.

Claire threw one of her legs over his, lifting herself into his lap. The material of his soccer shorts bunched up mid-thigh as she straddled him. His hands shook - out of anger, guilt, or desire he wasn't sure - as he tugged the zipper of her puffy winter coat down, revealing the black wool of her sweater underneath. His mouth trailed kisses down her jawline, tongue licking at this one spot where her neck met her head, a spot that made her hiss from between her teeth.

Her stomach was warm to the touch, a fact that made her squeal; his fingers were cold as he trailed them up her body, reaching around her to fiddle with the -

"What the FUCK are you doing kissing my girlfriend?"

"Cam, don't!"

"Don't what, Massie?" Cam Fisher growled. "Did you know about this? Are you protecting him?"

"I'm not - "

Josh tore himself away from Claire so quickly she practically fell on the ground by his feet. He threw his arm out to steady her before turning his dark eyes, filled with anger (at the game, at Hotchkiss, at himself), on Cam. "First of all, don't talk to Massie like that," he snarled, "and second, she told me I could so I did."

"Oh, yep, there you go, defending Massie like the whipped little… wait… did you just say she told you you could?"

Josh nodded curtly, crossing his arms over his chest. Massie forced herself around Claire's angry boyfriend, dropping the sweatshirt she'd stolen from Josh on his lap. He mumbled something akin to thanks, pulling it over his head.

"Sucks, doesn't it?" Claire all but cooed, a sickly sweet yet nasty sort of sound. It sent goosebumps down Josh's spine. "When the person you like picks someone else over you."

"I never picked Nina over you!" he shouted. "And I most certainly never kissed anyone other than you!"

"Yeah, right." Claire scoffed. "Like I could trust you when Nina - "

"The only person that kissed Nina was Derrick," Massie mumbled. "Cam's telling the truth."

"I don't care who actually kissed Nina," Claire snapped, "though I am sorry about that, Mass, we'll talk about it later. What I care about is how you made me feel this entire month, Cam; you practically forced me into Josh right here!"

"I didn't force you anywhere, Claire! You manipulated Josh's crush on you - "

" - okay, I wouldn't go as far as to call it a crush - "

" - and did this because you felt insecure and refused to talk to me!" Cam ignored Josh's interruption with a wave of his hand, his heterochromatic gaze fierce on Claire's pretty face. "I never ignored you. I was busy, like I said. We had a game to prepare for, I had tests every day this week, and I told you this. You thrive off the drama, Claire, and you make things out of nothing. Massie's right: I didn't kiss Nina, Derrick did, and you don't see her fucking making out with Plovert, do you? No!"

Massie bristled next to him, obviously not liking being brought into the argument, and she leaned forward, her hand cautiously resting on Josh's elbow. "Hey," she murmured, trying to sound a lot tougher than she was, "do you want to get out of here? Alicia and Dylan are waiting by the school, we were planning on -"

"No thanks." Josh shook her off and stood. "I really don't want to talk to you or Alicia or Dylan about any of this, okay? I have to walk home."

"I can give you a ride," Massie insisted.

"No," Josh said. He pushed himself up, brushed past Cam, and picked his jersey up off the field. "I'm going to walk."

"Josh!" Massie yelled at his back.

He ignored her, headed towards the dark locker room on the other side of the bleachers, slipping through the door before she could catch up him with him and convince him otherwise.

He should have known then there was no coming back from this one.

.

Massie wrapped her arms around Josh, pressing her face into the warm skin of his back. Her hands shook minutely where they were laid against his bare stomach, and he lifted his own to cup hers, squeezing lightly.

"Hey," he greeted, "are you okay?"

She debated lying but thought better of it, knowing it would only upset him, and shook her head. The spicy scent of his Ralph Lauren cologne engulfed her, a comforting smell. "Landon's here," she informed him. "When I invited him, I didn't think he'd show and now I'm not really sure what to do with him."

"I thought you liked him."

"I did," Massie said, "but there's…" She accidentally caught Derrick's eye from where he stood with Cam, Kristen, and Claire. He frowned at her, jerking his chin towards the senior in question, doing that thing they used to do where they could have conversations without speaking. She ignored it, blinked, and buried her nose in between Josh's shoulder blades. "It's not that simple anymore."

Now there were two people staring at her: Derrick and Landon.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Josh questioned. When she didn't answer, he added, "You know you can talk to me, right? I know we're not where we used to be but… like, I'm not going to judge you or anything."

No, I'll just judge myself.

"I guess I imagined this… whatever I have going on with Landon being a bigger thing than it turned out to be," she offered up, sniffing him again, letting that cologne wash over her. "It had potential, but…" But I suck and even my own thought processes make no sense to me… and they're mine. "I guess it was just a summer fling."

Josh nodded. "Common."

"Yeah, but I just never told him?" Massie explained, letting her statement come out as more of a question. "I've been sort of… ghosting him."

"Ghosting him?"

"I have not answered one of his messages since around September second." Which, Massie thought, is the day I dragged Alicia to Kemp's house. She hoped Josh didn't mention it.

"And why is that?"

"I just lost interest."

"So tell him that," Josh suggested.

Massie fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course that's what she was supposed to do. What she should have done. But it was so much easier to ignore him completely than to have an honest conversation… because then she'd have to be honest with herself and, well, she'd much rather keep her head and heart separate for as long as she could.

It was easier that way.

She felt him look at her again; a shiver ran down her spine and she pressed her cheek into Josh. At this point they couldn't be any closer than if Massie tried to curl up inside his skin - a gross thought, but something she'd very much like to do if it meant getting out of whatever situation was coming her way. If it meant getting out of her head.

"That's mean, I think," she elected to say, "isn't there a nicer way to reject someone?"

"Rip it off like a bandaid, Mass."

This time she did roll her eyes. "I'm mean but I'm not that mean, J."

"Um." He pinched the skin between her thumb and forefinger goodnaturedly. "You do know you are Massie Block, right? Resident mean girl?"

"I am not!" she retorted. "I'm nice!"

"Er," Josh edited. "Nicer."

Massie gaped. "I threw this lovely surprise party and I'm planning Ripple Baxter's birthday - "

"You're still doing that?"

"Yes!" Massie said loudly, wriggling away from him. "Because I am nice!"

Josh spun around to grin at her, nose crinkling in the cutest way. Massie wanted to pinch his cheeks (in adoration and also annoyance). "It's because you thought it would somehow prevent a rumor from starting," he reminded her, "which it didn't, and you're too stubborn to cancel the whole thing."

"Not even a little bit," she told him, shoving a finger into his pec. "Because I am nice," she enunciated again, "and I do not go back on my word."

"You told me we would be best friends forever and then didn't talk to me for two years."

"Unnecessary! Not the same! Rude!"

He chortled, wrapping his arms around her head and squeezing her to his chest. She squeaked, slapping at him, but his strong grip kept her in place and effectively ruined her hair, which she lamented loudly. He pretended he couldn't hear her over the chorus of New Rules.

"Hey, Massie, can you spare a minute?"

Josh froze.

Massie took a deep breath, twisting in his embrace. She gnawed on her lower lip, setting her gaze upon the tall figure of Landon Crane, the boy she'd had this whirlwind summer romance with, three months of cute coffee and ice cream dates, the Hamptons social scene, and late night rendezvouses at the beach. This was the same boy she'd fretted over, stressed about, wasn't sure if he'd like her for real, only for the summer, and she'd ditched him at the beginning of the month. She hadn't said anything to his texts, even when he suggested they do her favorite things (shopping, walking their dogs, eating pastries at Holy Crepe).

She looked at him, at his blue, blue eyes, his messy curls, and the patterned sweater and jeans he wore, in no way a Halloween costume unless he was trying to be Mike Wheeler from Stranger Things season two.

Landon smiled tentatively at her. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest and she pinched Josh's arm so he would let her go. "Sure," she murmured, throat dry. He was so cute. "Let's go over here."

Josh squeezed her supportively, inclined his head towards Landon, and slipped away. Massie watched him join his friends, butting in on Claire and Cam's conversation and pressing his fingers to the frown on Kristen's face. Claire, it seemed, didn't notice that Cam was half-listening to her; he was looking right at her - at Massie - curiosity replacing his casual expression.

Landon? he mouthed at her.

She allowed him a nod, returning with her own Don't worry about it.

Cam lifted his shoulder in a shrug, as if this wasn't a big deal to him at all, and shot her a wink, returning to his conversation with Claire with such ease Massie wondered how good he was at multitasking. He murmured something, made the girl laugh, and then Massie was whisked into something she really didn't want to participate in.

Her hands felt clammy when she wiped them on her thighs. Her entire body felt cold, which was weird because she'd taken a significant number of shots with Kemp and Plovert before the party had even started, and her dress felt far too short, far too revealing compared to Landon's super comfortable-looking outfit.

"Stop that," Landon said softly, reaching out and linking their fingers. "You look beautiful."

Oh my god.

"So do you," Massie replied. "I mean, I mean - what? You… your sweater looks… I…"

He chuckled. "Thanks."

She swallowed, suddenly forgetting everything she'd been worried about when it came to him. Landon stepped closer to her, into her personal bubble, and his overwhelming scent surrounded her on both sides. He let go of her hand, flicking a curl out of his face with a shaky finger.

"I almost didn't come tonight," he told her. "They all told me not to, but… I just needed closure, I guess."

Massie opened her mouth to reply but he shook his head. "I get it. I'm not stupid. Not that I'm saying you think I am. Just… I can't stop texting you, Mass. They, like, they took my phone away from me," he told her, "and I still found a way to talk to you. And I know you haven't answered me back in weeks except for, like, that one time you told me you already got coffee…" He broke off, licking his lips. "It's over, right?"

Yes.

No.

I don't know.

"Landon…"

He looked at her, and he looked so fucking sad, and Massie… Massie wanted to sort of die, because she hadn't even known he'd liked her this much, hadn't known that she'd liked him this much. But it didn't matter because she was confused, and she was jumbled, and her heart seemed to be getting pulled in three different directions, and it was all fall's fault, and he didn't deserve any of her mess. He should have the world. He should have a girl who could be with him one hundred percent, a girl that wasn't her.

"Okay," he said.

That was it. Two syllables.

"I'm really sorry," Massie breathed, voice trembling. "I just… I can't give you what you want. I don't even know what I want. I'm just in a place where… where I'm not…"

Landon shook his head. "You don't have to explain it to me," he told her. "As much as I wish we could have… I'm not going to try to change your mind or force you to rethink it, even if I want you to. Even if I want to be with you so badly, I…" He stopped there, tore his gaze away from hers. "I hope he deserves it."

"What?" she asked. "Who?"

He elaborated cryptically, "The second chance. I hope he deserves it."

Massie had no idea what he was talking about, didn't actually care. Her heart felt like it was being crushed in her chest, a hand squeezing and squeezing until she thought it would burst. Landon's cheeks were pink, and Massie just realized how drunk she was, and her gaze was zeroing on him, on the cute little freckles by the corner of his mouth.

She surged forward, took his face in her hands, and pressed a kiss to that very mouth one last time.

Landon's arms came around her slowly, carefully, as if she were a porcelain doll that could break at any second. His hands settled against her lower back, pressing her closer to him, and her lips parted at the tender flick of his tongue. Her head tilted farther to the side, fingers sliding up into his hair, and Massie prayed to every god she knew, to Coco Chanel, and to Michelle Obama that she would not cry in the middle of this kiss, in the middle of this party, or at all.

He pulled away first, resting his forehead against hers. "You know you can always call me if anything goes wrong," he whispered. "If you ever need me, I'm just a phone call away, alright?"

"Alright," she all but whispered, afraid of the way her voice would sound if she spoke any louder.

"Alright," he repeated, kissing her one last time: chaste, small, speaking volumes. "Goodbye, Massie Block."

"No," she started to say, but the words never came out, because Kemp Hurley body checked Landon into the wall and she found herself shrieking "Kemp!" instead.

"What the fuck, dude?"

"Kemp, what are you doing?!"

"Me?" Kemp demanded, waving a hand at Massie's blotchy face and Landon's slightly swollen lips. "What are you doing? I thought you didn't like him anymore!"

"Regardless of how I feel about any-one," she over-enunciated, forcing her hands to her hips, "you don't get to slam him into walls! I can do what I want!"

"Massie, you can't just - "

"I can just!" she interrupted. "You are not my dad!"

"I bet he would not be happy about this!"

"Yeah, about how out of hand this party got, but he does like Landon." Massie shot him a dirty look. "He didn't fuckin' squeak when he met him, y'know, after he slept in my room."

"Landon slept in your room?"

"No!" Massie stomped her foot. "You did, re-mem-ber?"

Landon frowned, rubbing at his shoulder. Kemp was really strong, like linebacker strong, and there was an eighty percent chance he'd bruised Landon when he broke the two of them apart. "I'm definitely missing something here," the older boy mumbled.

"Yeah, you definitely are," Kemp snapped.

"Do you want me to get you some ice?" Massie asked Landon, ignoring Kemp's furious comments.

"Nah, I'm fine," Landon told her, looking from her to Kemp and back as if the other boy was going to pounce on him like some sort of wild animal. "I've gotten injured worse." His casual comment seemed to sound like a challenge.

"Are you sure?" Massie stepped forward to touch him, but Kemp pulled her back by the forearm. "Kemp, let go."

"We don't like him," he hissed.

"You don't like him," Massie shot back. "I don't care about your stupid sports team rivalries - I don't care about the football team, or ADD's soccer team, or even their lacrosse team - no offense, Lan - and you can stop trying to protect me! You're only making this worse. I do not need you to fight my battles or attack boys for me, alright? You. Are. Overstepping. Now let go."

"No. Not until you walk away."

"Let. Go."

"No."

"Do not tighten your grip on me! Let me go! Go back to whatever you were doing with Josh, okay? I can handle this."

"Massie, walk away."

"How many times do I have - "

"Dude, she said let her go," Landon growled from behind her. It smelled like puberty right there, testosterone flying in every direction, turning this into a pissing contest it did not need to be. All Massie wanted to do was walk away and probably find one of her saner friends (ie: Chris) and drink her fury and misery - an odd combination - away.

"Dude," Kemp mocked.

Landon rolled his eyes and attempted to pry Kemp's fingers off Massie's wrist. It didn't work.

"Get out of here, pretty boy," Kemp spat, this nasty sort of smirk playing on his mouth. He totally loved that he was stronger than Landon. "I'm sure whatever was going on between you two has ended, yeah? Your presence is no longer wanted."

"Says who?" Massie wailed. "This is my house! My party! I can have whoever I want here."

"Yeah," Kemp agreed, "but not him."

"Alright, that's it." Landon dropped Massie's arm a little harsher than necessary, but she was willing to forgive that, and punched Kemp straight in the face, which she wasn't. At least right now.

.

Josh Hotz posted in The Petty Committee: hey
Josh Hotz: whered everyone go
Cam Fisher: im standing right next to u?
Josh Hotz: NOT LOOKING FOR YOU FISH
Derrick Harrington: why is our group named the petty committee
Josh Hotz: bc were petty?
Josh Hotz: and pretty committee is already taken :(
Kemp Hurley: i think were prettier
Chris Plovert: u shut ur damn mouth

.

"Let me at least walk him out!" Massie cried, slapping at Kemp's hands as he threw her over his shoulder. "Kemp, you're being unreasonable."

"What's unreasonable is you offered Crane ice but not me," Kemp said.

Massie huffed. "You deserve whatever aches and pains he gave you," she retorted. "You're stupid and I hate you." She lifted her head and looked at Landon. "You don't have to go if you don't want to. Don't listen to him. He's an asshole."

"You're right about that, but… I should probably getting going. I wasn't going to stay that long." Landon reached a hand out to cup her cheek and Massie closed her eyes. "See you around."

"I'll call you tomorrow," she said.

"No need," Landon returned with a soft, little smile. "Wish I could say I'd miss you, Hurley, but…"

Kemp shrugged the shoulder Massie wasn't hoisted on. "You throw a mean right hook, Crane."

"Only the best for my least favorite people," quipped Landon. Massie stifled a giggle. "Bye."

Landon twisted on his heel and left, pausing to offer Claire a tiny little wave. She returned it, frowning at the way Massie watched him go before Kemp all but kidnapped her, sweeping from the room and ignoring her complaints. She could only imagine how Massie felt right now; despite everything, she was probably half-heartbroken. Claire remembered how nervous Massie had been about Landon all summer.

Even if she'd had a flirty pizza date with Cam, nothing would change that.

And speaking of Cam…

He twirled one of her pigtails. "You have so much hair," he said. "S'cute, though."

Claire bit her lip, trying to ignore the way his blue eye (her favorite) twinkled at her.

"The bangs came in handy for once," she replied evenly, wiping her palms on her white shift dress. "Who knew?"

"It's like you grew them out for this very day," said Cam.

"Yep, that's it." She nodded seriously, mesmerized by the easy smile on his mouth. "When I was twelve, I knew that four years in the future, on September twenty-ninth specifically, I would need Baby Spice bangs. And here I am."

"Incredible," Cam commented, his nose wrinkling in amusement.

It had been so long since Claire had been able to have a coherent conversation with him, let alone one where he seemed to actually enjoy himself. Granted, they were hardly toeing the surface of anything - talking about her hair and her costume and mocking partygoers around them was superficial at best - but it was something, right? And it had to prove that whatever he did with Massie at Slice of Heaven meant nothing.

She felt her cheeks heat up, pressed one of them to her shoulder, and brought her mixed drink to her mouth to hide the other. She drank a significant amount, hoping they'd all assume that the alcohol was making her flush, not him. But she couldn't hide from Kristen's stern, knowing glance.

Claire rolled her eyes, debated saying something to her (a reassurance, a warning?) when Josh sidled up to them in all of his shirtless glory. They all turned their gazes on him and Claire found herself admiring the definition in his abdominal muscles; all the boys on the soccer team were incredibly built. What was it about their workouts that, like, chiseled them out of marble? Had Michaelangelo returned to Earth to sculpt them? If so, she should probably thank him.

She snorted to herself, blinking the onslaught of drunkenness out of her eyes. Maybe she should stop drinking for a bit.

"Have you seen Alicia, or Derrick, or Chris, or - " Josh stopped himself, frowning. " - all of our friends, really?"

"More importantly," Kristen interjected, weaseling her way into the half circle they'd made. She shouldered Claire, apologized, and forced herself between her and Cam. "Why did no one help Kemp when Landon punched him in the eye?"

Cam shrugged. Claire eyed his arm, brushing against Kristen's. "It's easier to just let Kemp get punched in the face," he offered up, clinking the neck of his beer against Josh's. "Kemp's stupid that way: He gets into fights so often if we tried to help him or stop him it would honestly just be a waste of time."

"Are the rest of you like that?" Kristen questioned, peering up at him. "Just say the word and I'm outta this friendship thing."

"Aw, KGreg, don't be like that." Cam's eyes twinkled as he threw his arm, the same one that had been pressed tight against hers, around her shoulder, forcing her into the apparently Kristen-sized space in his side. "The only person I punch is Derrick."

"Derrick?" she parroted. "Isn't he your best friend?"

"I take great offense to that question," Josh announced.

Cam lifted his foot to nudge him in the shin, but his intense gaze never left Sporty Spice. "It spices up our relationship," he told her seriously. "We've been dating so long it gets boring sometimes."

"Dating?"

"Yeah, why do you think it's so hard for Derrick to keep girlfriends?" Cam replied. "I'm the only one for him."

Claire blinked. "Isn't he with Sadie Meltzer?"

"Don't remind me," Cam answered. "It's almost our twelve year anniversary. I have no idea what to get him."

Kristen cackled, whacking him in the knee. "Stop that."

"No, I'm serious, does anyone know what I should get him? It's our silk year."

"How do you know that?"

"Um, I'm an incredibly devoted partner?" Cam returned with a scoff. "And also Derrick sent me an evite, asking me what I wanted to do for our silk year." He pulled his phone out of his shorts, typed in his passcode, and pulled it up. "See?"

"Oh my god," Kristen all but shouted. "Is that a collage of you guys since kindergarten?" She shimmied away from Cam, raced over to Claire, and zoomed in on all the cute pictures of the two of them from their childhood.

There was one where Cam had lost his front tooth, this big gap in his ecstatic smile, and Claire thought she was going to die. Derrick looked adorable, too, all pink-cheeked and muddy, but, like, she didn't really care.

"I think I'm gonna get him, like, really nice silk boxers," Cam was telling Josh as the girls cooed over Derrick's handiwork. "You know, so, like, they'll be nice when I take them off him later."

"This might be why everyone thinks the two of you are gay," Josh pointed out.

"Ugh, if only." Cam sighed. "We're just platonically in love. It's so unfortunate."

"Honestly, that's a couple I could really get behind," Kristen told them. Claire hadn't realized the other girl had been paying attention to the conversation; she'd screenshotted this collage and sent it to herself. The next thing Claire knew, her phone was buzzing in her pocket. "Like Brangelina. RIP."

Claire looked up to shoot Kristen a look and found Cam staring at her, this grin on his face she couldn't quite place. She returned it cautiously, pulled her phone out, and read the message.

Kristen Gregory posted in The Pretty Committee: Attachment: 1 image
Kristen Gregory: yo im screaming
Alicia Rivera: i have never seen anything cuter than derrick harrington, age 6.
Alicia Rivera: except for derrick harrington, age now.
Alicia Rivera: derrick harrington, age now, wrote that, not me. I stnd by age 6.

Claire laughed, clicked out of the group text, and gripped both her cell and her cup in one hand. If anything Derrick was funny, and Alicia had always been her funniest (and relaxed) when he was around.

"...what do you think, Claire?"

"What do I think about what?" she replied, meeting Josh's dark eyes steadily.

"Flip Cup," he said slowly, like she was four, "us four against the football team."

"The entire football team?"

"Obviously not. That would be ridiculous. Four of them against four of us. Since, you know, I've lost all of my friends and they don't appropriately answer text messages."

Claire looked at him, looked at drink, looked inside herself. She knew she probably should say no, because her face felt hot and her eyes kind of heavy and she sort of didn't remember what happened ten minutes ago. But Josh was looking at her, and Cam was looking at her, and Kristen was still looking at this collage, so Claire merely held up a finger, downed the rest of her Bacardi and Coke, despite disliking how the soda coated her teeth and the sugar made her feel gross, and answered, "Sure, but if I throw up tonight, it's your fault."

"That's the spirit," Cam cheered, slapping her back goodnaturedly.

Yup, Claire thought, the heat from his palm sending tingles down her spine, that it was.

.

cplov47 posted a new photo
my favorite spices mmmblock aleesharivera
224 likes / view all 34 comments
livvycolls oooooo carandolph he looks so good
aleesharivera livvycolls carandolph hey, uh, step off maybe?
dylmarvil wow that was so ballsy livvycolls ur my hero
aleesharivera dylan!

.

Derrick rubbed his hand on his forehead, actively trying to avoid looking at Massie's legs. Her long, long, long bare legs. It wasn't working.

She was laying there, feet propped on Dylan, shooting barbs and weird pick up lines - what the fuck was that about? - at Kemp, who had a bruise the size of Landon Crane's fist on his face that had Alicia frantic, even though Kemp always had a bruise on his face. Chris was the only composed one there, casually observing the multitude of pictures pinned to the corkboard by Massie's closet.

And Derrick looked at her legs again.

"Do not call him tomorrow," Kemp was saying.

"Do not tell me what to do," she returned.

"I am looking out for you!"

"I liked that boy!"

"Past tense!" Kemp trilled. "Why don't you like him anymore?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"I would like you to."

"Well, I'm not going to just come out and say that I don't like Landon anymore, even though I should, because I lik-"

For some reason, Derrick knew that Massie needed some sort of saving here, knew that she was drunk enough that she'd accidentally let something slip. Maybe it was the years he'd known her, maybe it was because he knew how Kemp could push and prod until he got what he wanted. Maybe it was because Dylan and Alicia didn't seem to realize she was about to say something she probably didn't want to say. Maybe it was because Dylan and Alicia might not even know what she was going to say.

Regardless of the situation, Derrick knew he had to interrupt, and so he did, but it wasn't exactly in the way he intended.

"Did you rearrange your room?" he asked loudly, forcing himself out of his slouched position. "I don't remember your bed being over there, but it makes getting to your window easier, I guess."

The silence that engulfed them was so strong, so tense. The party raged downstairs, the only sound in the room now. Nonsensical laughter, the buzz of conversation, the song switching to Champion by Fall Out Boy… but nothing in here. Just Alicia's sharp intake of breath.

If I could live through this was right. Derrick cleared his head and shot them all his best easygoing smirk.

"How do you know that?" Kemp asked.

"Uh, we did date for a while?" Derrick replied back. "For, like, a year?"

Chris frowned. "When we were thirteen."

"Yeah, so, like, I was obviously in this house. And this room." Derrick crossed his arms, ignoring Massie's stare. It was the first time she'd purposely looked at him all night. "It's not some big secret."

"Right," said Kemp, "but you said 'it makes getting to your window easier.'"

"You forgot the 'I guess,'" Chris added.

"True. You said 'it makes getting to your window easier, I guess.' If you were dating, wouldn't you be welcomed in this house? Why are you getting to her window?"

Alicia started giggling. Dylan tried to kick her but missed by a long shot.

"Because I was coming at a time where I would not be welcomed?" Derrick retorted. He made a face, mentally berating himself for saying that. Why didn't he have control over his mouth? That was so stupid. "How else do you think I knew all the backroads to Block's? I used to ride my bike all the ti-"

"Used to ride my bike - "

"Were you about to say all the time?"

"Oh my GOD - "

Alicia was outright laughing now, hands over her mouth, looking from Derrick's face, devoid of all emotion, to Massie's, red with embarrassment.

"I FEEL LIKE AN ANGRY DAD," Kemp wailed.

Dylan, poised and graceful, merely said, "This explains why I had no idea where I was in the car."

"Which is fucking stupid," Derrick told her, composing himself, "have you never been behind Massie's house before?"

"Clearly not," Dylan snipped, "or else I would have known where I was. Unlike you, I use the front door!"

Alicia coughed out another cackle.

"I'm getting another drink!" Massie announced, getting to her feet. "Once you guys are done with whatever this is, please join us downstairs again." She grabbed both Alicia and Dylan's hands, spared a glance at Derrick that seemed to warm him from his toes up, and tugged them out of the room.

She popped her head back inside after a second, fixing her patented angry Massie glare on Kemp. "Do not punch anyone else tonight, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mom," he said dutifully.

"I thought I was your daughter right now."

"I don't know how I feel!"

Massie rolled her eyes at him, leaving the room for good.

Derrick found he missed her, but that wasn't anything new.

"Started talking, buddo," Chris ordered, taking Dylan's spot on the end of the bed. Kemp merely threw himself on the floor, squinting up at Derrick from Massie's white rug.

"Talking about what?" he asked.

"This sneaking into Massie's room business," elaborated Kemp. "We're curious. What did you do?"

"We were thirteen."

"So, you came over to do nothing?"

"That's not what I said," Derrick mumbled.

Chris and Kemp looked at him expectantly.

"What?" he snapped.

"Are you going to tell us?"

"Of course I'm not going to tell you." Derrick scoffed. "I trust you as far as I can throw you."

"Good thing you're not on the football team then," Chris joked. Derrick threw the closest thing on Massie's desk at him; it was a fuzzy picture frame of Alicia and Massie from when they were eight. "Aw," he said, tossing it beside him.

Kemp eyed him, but when it was clear Derrick's mouth was shut, he sighed grandly. "Well, this was a bust," he said, "let's go back downstairs. Now that the girls aren't here, this is stupid."

Chris wiggled his fingers, forcing Kemp to pull him off the bed.

"Go without me," Derrick ordered with a wave of his hand. "I'll be down in a sec."

They shrugged, disappearing into the hall. Alone, Derrick ran a hand through his short hair, wishing, not for the first time, that he hadn't cut it. There had been something comforting about tugging at his curls when he was distressed. Which he was. Right now.

He looked from Massie's window to her bed. They may have been thirteen - fourteen, too, when they dated those three months into freshman year - but it wasn't like he didn't have urges even then. He did, and he didn't really know how to control them (or himself) most of the time, and Massie was super pretty…

Derrick shook his head, exiting the room quickly. There was something about it that upset him. The memories, probably. He was going to blame the alcohol, though, because everything about feelings was stupid, and sometimes he got really sad when he was by himself when he was drunk.

And remembering Massie's mouth was so not helping.

.

"Joshie!" Alicia sang.

"Ali!" He shoved a red cup in her hand. "Quick, drink this, then flip."

"Dude, that's cheating," P.J. Levine snapped from the other side of the table.

"The only rule is that someone drinks the beer and flips the cup, doesn't matter who - hell yeah, Alicia, I could kiss you!"

"Do not!" she yelled back at him.

He grabbed her face and kissed her temple anyway.

"Where'd you disappear to?" he asked, situating Alicia in his old spot between Cam and Claire. She knew exactly what he was doing, and it was quitting, but she didn't care. She was really good at this.

Alicia pointed upstairs, eyes on Kristen at the end of the table. She had a few seconds advantage; Danny Robbins was struggling with his empty cup, Dempsey Solomon furious beside him, tapping his fingers against the table. Kristen swallowed, flicked her cup. It landed perfectly upside down and Cam threw his fist in the air.

"Upstairs in Massie's room with the rest of them," Alicia finally said as they set up again.

Josh turned towards Massie, a frown pulling at his mouth. "Why am I never invited?"

"You're invited to get a new drink with me," Massie offered. "I really need one after all that."

"You're planning on telling me, right?"

"Obviously," she drawled. "It was a nightmare."

They traipsed off, Massie hands flying as she told Josh the story of her night, and Dempsey groaned. "We're losing to girls, man," he snapped at Danny.

"I take great offense to that," Claire said, voice slurring more than it had when Alicia left.

"Yeah," Kristen agreed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's… you're… you're girls!"

"So what?" she shouted. "You should learn to drink faster!"

Alicia turned to Claire. "You good?" she asked, kind of concerned, a very un-Alicia thing to be. "Do you need to sit this one out? Chris can get you water and Dylan can sub in."

Claire shook her head, pigtails flying. "Totally fine," she answered, "but, like, water sounds good. This beer sucks."

"That's because it's Rolling Rock," Cam said over Alicia's little space buns. "Tastes like gross water. Goes down quickly."

"Disgusting," Claire mumbled. She slammed her cup on the table. "Let's get going."

Dylan tapped Cam on the shoulder, whispered something in his ear. Cam nodded, switching places with her and the next thing Alicia knew, it was four members of the Pretty Committee against four starting football players.

They started with P.J. and Alicia, who knocked back her drink and only had to flip her cup twice. Dylan made up for Alicia's lost time, the game moving down to Kristen before Danny even had a chance to bring his beer to his lips. Dempsey shouted at him again while Kristen, once again, destroyed, and Claire finished the round with Dempsey frantically trying to get his cup upside down.

"Seems like you're the weak link here," Baby Spice said to Tarzan.

Dempsey rolled his eyes. "I'm done here. Later, Kristen."

"Ew," Kristen mumbled.

Danny shot Alicia a sly smirk, eyes settling on her chest. Claire leaned forward, reaching in front of Alicia and blocking Danny's view because "Dylan's cup is nicer than mine and I want it."

Alicia patted Claire on the shoulder.

"Our cups are the same," Dylan said, swapping them.

"Danny was salivating looking at Alicia," Claire told her, swapping them back. "I just needed a reason to get in his way and they all think I'm, like, super drunk."

Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah, but that's besides the point."

"My girls! My favorites!" Kemp threw his arms around them, doing his best to get all of them. "Not all heroes wear capes!"

"An award for the most beautiful game of Flip Cup I've ever seen." Chris handed Claire water.

"Oh, thank God," she mumbled, draining it all in one go.

Chris grinned crookedly at her.

"I wonder how they'd fare in beer pong," Josh said to Cam.

Cam considered this. "Claire seems like the type to be really good at drinking games when she's trashed," he offered up seriously. "If we have to play, I want her on my team."

Alicia noticed Claire's face brighten and frowned. She also saw the way Kristen's hand tightened around her cup. It made her head hurt, so she ignored it.

"What happened to Massie and Josh?" Kemp asked, arms still around Alicia and Dylan.

"Kitchen," the redhead supplied. "Derrick?"

"Right here," the boy in question answered, slipping into the room. Dylan reached up and mussed his hair. "Stop that."

"Well, someone go get them!" Kemp commanded. "I think it's high time we talked."

"We're talking right now," Alicia said.

"You know what I mean." He booped her nose.

"I'll get them," Cam offered.

Twenty minutes later, they found themselves in one of William Block's studies, ten shots of Grey Goose lined up on the desk. Silently they cheers'd, knocked them back, and began to clear the air.

.

"I'm sorry for sleeping with your sisters, that was wildly uncool of me," Kemp said to Dylan. She nodded, chugging her drink. "And I shouldn't have rubbed it in your face. I should have just told you you breaking up with me hurt me."

"If it helps," she replied around a mouthful of vodka, "I see it this way: I am the reason you are now the bad boy you are. That fills me with so much joy. You're welcome."

.

"Granted, I shouldn't have made out with Josh, but can you blame me?"

"Claire!"

"What?" she demanded. "I'm being honest. Isn't that what you wanted?"

.

"Well, if we're trying to be honest here," Cam started, "I lied about not kissing Nina."

"What the hell!" shouted Alicia.

"I KNEW IT," Claire exclaimed.

.

"Pretty sure I was so upset because I also slept with Kemp."

"Dude, what the fuck, you got all three Marvils?"

Kemp lifted his arms, recreating the shrug emoji, and grinned.

.

"Sorry I yelled at you for being so obsessed with popularity." Derrick knocked back his third shot. "And then breaking my leg while getting hazed for the soccer team and trying to tell you it wasn't the same. It was."

.

"I would like to take the time to say I never did anything wrong, thank you very - "

Massie threw a pillow at him.

"Fine," Josh relented. "Alicia, I'm sorry for never being outright with how I felt about you. I led you on for a really long time."

Alicia sniffed, accepting his apology.

"And, Massie, I'm sorry I never hit Derrick in the face for telling me I couldn't be friends with you. With your permission, I will do it now."

.

"I can't believe you slapped me! I already got hit in the face today!"

"That's why I slapped you! I'm not a monster!"

.

"I already apologized to Dylan tonight," Chris announced. "Who else do I owe apologies to?"

"Me, probably," Kemp said, "but I don't remember why."

.

"I'm sorry I forced Cam to stop being friends with you," Claire said to Kristen. "I thought he liked you more than me."

"To be fair, I liked everyone more than you from September 2015 to November 2015," admitted Cam.

Claire glared at him. "I'll allow it."

.

"I'm sorry the last thing I ever texted you was that you sucked at soccer," Cam came out with.

Derrick gasped.

"Fine," Kristen permitted, "I made a voodoo doll of you and stabbed it in the heart once."

"WHAT," Kemp yelled.

.

"I'm sorry that I'm so beautiful."

"Alicia, that isn't a valid apology."

"But it's true."

.

"Fine," Alicia relented. "Claire, I'm sorry I was so jealous of you all the time, and I'm sorry I tried to kiss Cam, and I'm sorry Cam almost let me."

"Don't apologize for that," Cam said. "That's on me. I would have kissed you anyway but you ran away."

"I feel like I should lock Alicia up in a tower and never let her leave," said Derrick.

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair," sang Kristen.

.

Kristen frowned. "I just realized I have never been romantically interested in any of you."

"I had an incredibly vivid sex dream about you once."

"Thanks, Kemp," she stated dryly.

"I feel like I should apologize for the things you did in it."

"Shut up immediately."

.

"Let's take a shot for every time Massie kicked Claire out of the group."

.

"I regret suggesting that." Chris groaned. "How many was that?"

"Eight?"

"Seven."

"I'll see you all tomorrow." Dylan licked her lips, settled down on the leather couch, and closed her eyes.

.

"I'm so sorry I tried to kick you out of our group seven times," Massie said to Claire. Her eyes were bloodshot and glassy.

"I'm sorry I did stuff that made you do that."

"I don't think you did anything?" Massie questioned, trying to think about it. "Whatever. I shouldn't have done it."

Claire shrugged. "I definitely sucked between the months of September 2015 and November 2015, though, if that makes you feel better."

"Hear, hear," Cam exclaimed.

Massie pulled Claire into a hug.

.

"Hey," Derrick whispered, mouth brushing against Massie's ear, "I'm not doing this out loud because I don't want… just because. I'm sorry about kissing Nina. She never once meant anything to me. I was just mad."

Massie gripped her knee, nodding. "It's fine."

"It's not," he murmured, voice low and appealing though Massie tried to ignore it. "I'm… I was crazy about you, like so much so that all my feelings for you were heightened no matter what they are." She furrowed her brow at the way he was switching tenses. "I think… Nina wasn't… she wasn't worth it. She'll never have been worth it."

"Chris Abeley never meant anything, either," Massie told him quietly. It didn't matter, though, because Alicia and Kemp were yelling at each other, and Dylan was passed out, and Chris was trying to braid Claire's hair with his eyes closed. "It was… Skye liked him, and I needed to do it for… to secure my popularity. It turned out he liked me, something I never, ever thought to factor in, because, like, who would like me over Skye - "

Derrick's fingers caressed her bare shoulder. "I would," he told her, sounding surer than she'd ever heard him. "I do."

She ignored the shiver his touch sent down her spine and turned her face to press it into his hand. "Thanks," she mumbled.

"Friends?" he posed.

"Friends," she answered, "but I'm still going to insult you."

The grin on his face fucking radiated light. She knew it was there even with her eyes closed. "I wouldn't expect anything else."

.

kemphurley posted a new video
look at all of these sleeping babies #BestFriends #GoToSleepKemp #DylanIsFinally16 #IHopeNoOneDiedInOurAbsence
1,967 views / 544 likes / view all 4 comments
marvilryan baby seester goes hard
samharring oh my godddddd are cam and derrick mermaidman and barnacle boy