First, let me apologise! I know that this chapter is very short, and not very informative, but it's very crucial to where the story is headed and I think that you'll see this in the chapters to come. Also, it's been such a long time between the previous chapter and this one! I know, I know. I'm actually studying for finals (which I start tomorrow and will, thankfully, finish on Friday). Not to mention that Friday is my birthday!

Thank you, as always, to those lovely people who reviewed. You know I love you all. Shout out to Cela Fille, who has the most adorable reviews ever and knows how to make me smile like an idiot with her kind words! Questions will be answered in the bottom section, as usual. Don't be afraid to review/send me a question for question time, etc. Enjoy!

xoxo, Cheryl

Everything about The Westchester – from the sleek marble floors in the main walkways, to the polished parquet found in each of the stores, and the shimmering chandeliers that glowed above them – was a tool of class division. Whether that had been a deliberate move on the part of the designer, Olivia couldn't be sure. The wealthy strolled confidently past the glittering store fronts, designer shades perched atop their heads; their expensive shoes formed an echoing symphony of clicks and clacks against the floors. Those who couldn't afford the items proudly displayed in the store windows rushed, nervous and stressed, by their upper-market counterparts, eyes trained on the floor or on the finely-dressed mannequins with unmasked envy.

Massie and Olivia wandered aimlessly through The Westchester's largest and grandest department store. The silence was unbearable. Olivia inspected the latest in fashion, nervously, and wondered if she should say something. But, if she were to do something, what would be the most appropriate thing to say?

Massie seemed far too focused on her iced soy latte.

"That's pretty," Olivia said instinctively. She zipped towards a rack of gorgeous, delicate lingerie and picked up the underwear in question to inspect it more carefully.

Massie smirked. "You like those?"

Olivia hesitated, her grip on the thin strips of lace growing loose. "Well, I – Oh... You don't?"

Massie's smirk diminished slightly. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," Massie insisted. "It's just that – " Massie grinned charmingly. "I have the same ones. The girls always make fun of me for having them. They call them my 'Virgin Suicides' panties – because of the floral pattern."

Olivia grimaced.

"It's silly, really." Massie pinched her straw with two hands and lowered her lips to it to take a deep pull. "The things people say. They'll make fun of you for the tiniest little thing, if they feel threatened or intimidatedby you. They'll punish you for their weakness... Isn't it amazing to think about high school segregation? How power is distributed amongst high school students who don't know any better?"

Olivia's hand tightened into a fist around the lacy La Perla underwear she held. She trained her eyes on the intricate daisy-chain detailing. "I guess. I've never really thought about it," she answered gingerly. "Is power really that important to people in high school?"

"Power is important to everyone." Massie smirked in a self-satisfied way and took a few confident strides towards Olivia. She picked up an Agent Provocateur bralet, and feigned interest in it for a few short, deathly silent moments. Satisfied that the pause had been sufficient, she draped the bralet back over the rack. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately," she said, and glanced at Olivia from beneath her dramatically wind-swept bangs, her dark eyes searing in their seriousness. "I suppose that that's to be expected... Recent events considered."

Olivia made a noise somewhere between a hum of recognition and a nervous whimper. Was Massie probing her? Testing her? Waiting to see her trip and fall? Does she know? Olivia thought, panicked. She took a few deep, calming breaths and blinked her icy blue eyes, feigning innocence. "I'm done here," she said, and dropped the underwear back onto a pile of expensive silk and cottons.

"Aren't you going to buy that?" Massie said. She glanced at the lingerie. "It's pretty."

Olivia demurred. "No," she said, "it's absolutely lovely but it just isn't my style."

Massie shrugged her shoulders and polished off the last of her latte. "If you don't love it on the rack, you won't love it on you." A passing assistant offered to take Massie's empty cup and dispose of it. "Thanks," she said, and handed it over, before taking Olivia by the crook of her arm and leading her with light pressure toward the nearest exit.

Olivia ignored the vibrations of her phone. It quivered somewhere deep inside her purse five times before returning to its silence. Olivia wanted, more than anything, to reach for it. Massie's kindness was unnerving – a reminder to Olivia of all everything she was about to do.

"I need to go to Sephora," Massie said airily. She navigated Olivia through the crushing crowds, tandem-style, with the grace and ease of an expert. "Skye Hamilton just got this new shade of YSL lipstick, and I need to show her that it would look so much better on me. Everything does."

Olivia laughed nervously, and dodged a pair of excited pre-teens, whose faces fell at the sight of Massie and her new companion. She smiled tentatively at them, but received no greeting in return. "Skye Hamilton?"

Massie eyed Olivia with quiet speculation, and then began her tirade. "She's a bitch," she said simply. Then, at the slightest quirk of Olivia's eyebrow, she added: "She's the Queen Bee of Clover & Walsh. Oh, you know; that arty new school across town?"

"Oh," Olivia chirped, looking away.

Massie's critical assessment of Skye Hamilton and her insecurity issues continued, and didn't end until they were exiting the Sephora store, still arm in arm. "It's sad, really," Massie said loftily, as she swung a large glossy bag from her free hand. "She's so obsessive, and jealous of me."

Sounds like someone's insecure, Olivia thought, but it's not Skye...

"In here."

Massie pulled Olivia into a small, chic store. A remix of Piaf songs washed over them both, and Olivia took a moment to delight in the sweet, honey melodies that poured over her. Massie watched Olivia's face, delighted by the eagerness she saw there. "I knew you'd love it," she said, and crossed to a rack of cocktail dresses. "It's so you. Your mother is French, isn't she?"

Olivia nodded. "Oui."

They riffled through the racks, neither one in any great hurry. A half an hour passed without any great ado, before Massie held up a sleek, silken cocktail gown. "This one," she said, her arm outstretched and offering it to Olivia.

Olivia couldn't help but gasp. "It's beauitful!" she cried, and it was.

"Josh Goot." The fabric shimmered under the light as Massie breathed out her admiration. "Try it on."

Olivia took the dress without complaint, and swanned to the dressing room, eager to try on the dainty, colorful silk creation. She'd just begun to lift her sweater dress over her head, when her phone began to vibrate energetically.

"Not now," she hissed under her breath, stooping to rifle through her purse. She found her phone somewhere near the bottom and pulled it out.

The words ? are you were emblazoned across the screen in a tiny, angry accusation.

Shopping, she replied, with the Queen Bee herself. Why?

shopping? you're not ready to go shopping w. m herself! abort mission!

Olivia threw the phone into her bag, disgusted, and ripped her sweater dress over her head in one angry motion. Why did Kori have so little faith in her, and her ability to pull this off? Olivia had, initially, been skeptical, but after spending an entire week side-by-side with the evil Massie Block and other girls of her ilk, Olivia felt confident in her ability to talk the talk and walk the walk of the young, the beautiful, and the devilish. Olivia was perfectly capable of completing a covert operation; one that was a great success.

"So," Massie called. She had taken up residence outside of the dressing rooms, waiting for Olivia to emerge in what was sure to be the dress. "Tell me what you know about last year."

The air rushed from Olivia's lungs. The self-righteous pride she'd felt moments before evaporated. "Pardon?" she choked out.

"You heard me," Massie said sweetly. "What do you know?"

"I don't know anything," Olivia insisted. She shimmied into the dress, and paused for a moment. Could she face Massie? Or was it better for her to wait here, until she was sure that she wouldn't slip up and give the game away. Finally, after a few torturous moments of silence, she pushed the curtain to the side and stepped out.

"You don't know anything."

Olivia didn't take her eyes off of her reflection. It wasn't vanity that had her afflicted, but fear. Massie appeared over her shoulder, and piled Olivia's platinum hair into a loose bun at the nape of the neck, which she held in place with her left hand. With her right, she separated tendrils of hair, which fell about Olivia's face in a way that was both messy and charming. "You know nothing about last year?" Massie clarified.

"Nothing."

"Well." Massie dropped Olivia's hair and took a purposeful step backwards. Her voice dropped to an ominous whisper. "Let me enlighten you," she said.

QUESTION TIME!
Where I answer your questions about Little Blue Book.

Question: Why is Claire not showing her feelings? Well, um, what I mean is...everyone must know by now that Claire likelikes Cam and Cam seems to, uhh...what's the right term? Oh! Yeah, yeah! Cam seems to "dig" Olivia. But suddenly Claire looks like she was jealous just when Alicia&Cam were arguing. I mean, common! She's starting to sound obsessed with Cam (no offence). If she likes him then she should just tell him. Hasn't she been in blockbuster movies before or something? Shouldn't that make her just a teeny-bit more confident? I really want to hear more about Claire and see if she's ever going to just let it all OUT.
- CrystalClearxx

You know I love your questions, and this is why! I can't answer this too much, without giving a lot of stuff away, BUT what I can say is that,

(1) Claire likelikes Cam and Cam seems to dig Olivia - this is true.
(2) Something that has happened in the past - maybe a dirty little secret - has made Claire antsy and jealous about the fact that Cam and Alicia are arguing.
(3) I won't rule out that Claire is obsessed with Cam. She kind of is. But not as obsessed as Dylan is with Derrick...
(4) Claire has been in a lot of blockbuster movies, but again, SOMETHING in that past makes her nervous about approaching Cam.
(5) Claire might let her feelings out sooner than you think.

Did I give away too much? I hope not!

So what is up with the Alicia deal? Are the rest of the girls mad or resentful towards her or Olivia? Was a little confused about that...
- midnightsun21

Ah, the Alicia deal. I like this term. My answer to this is in parts again - because I am in a rush to publish this, but also because it's easier that way!

(1) Alicia has always come across as a bitch to me, so that's just one part of it.

(2) But, again, there is something in Alicia's past that hasn't been revealed yet, which is causing her to lash out at newcomers and those who she considers 'inferior' or 'threatening' - regardless of whether they truly are either...
(3) The girls (and some of the guys) may or may not be more than a little resentful and angry towards Alicia, because of these past events.
(4) Finally, Alicia feels threatened by Olivia and she isn't afraid to try and tear her down a notch or two.

I think that if the characters were more multidimensional and if there was a hidden message/parody in the story (lk in all The Clique books) it would certainly improve.
- HawtCouture

So, not a question but I did want to address this review because I thought it was a really good critique. I agree with you one hundred percent. The dimensionality of the characters will (hopefully - fingers crossed, etc. etc.) develop as the story really gets going, because even though it's a fair few chapters in we're still sort of working up to where the story is going. The hidden message... Well, I'm a sucker for a hidden message and I would love to be able to work one in, but to me, I don't see an in for that... yet. You never know! And, as far as parodies go... I'd love to be smart enough to write good parodies, but I'm not, and I'd rather not write a parody at all than write one that's awful! There will be little, small aspects of teen culture that will be mercilessly mocked, though, so look out for that!