Claire Lyons trudged into Octavian Day School's cafeteria, her sapphire eyes cast to the floor and feeling a sudden sense of deja-vu. Her platinum hair, pulled back in a low ponytail, lacked leave-in conditioner shine, and her face was free from any traces of makeup. Her legs were clad in Gap light-rinse jeans and her torso in a simple burgundy scoop neck, without a hint of designer accessories. Her feet, adorned in the Keds that had been hibernating in her closet ever since the first day of school, welcomed the vacation from heels. Her trusty Kipling backpack was slung over her shoulder, no longer replaced by a trendy handbag. The mesh cell phone pouch, which had once held Len Rivera's old Motorola, stored only lip gloss and a pack of tissues. She would definitely need those - her mouth was already filled with the familiar, coppery taste of pennies, signaling a forecast of tears.
The night before, Judi had unleashed her standard pep-talk, complete with fresh baked brownies and a bear hug. She didn't have the heart to chastise her daughter the moment Claire clambered into her lap, bawling incomprehensibly. At the time, Claire had rolled her eyes at her mother's attempt to comfort her, but she would have given anything to be back in Judi's arms, watching a chick flick and eating high calorie snacks.
She eyed the Café nervously, wondering where to sit. Massie was back to her rightful spot at table 18, gossiping and giggling with Kristen, Dylan, and Alicia, her hair unusually glossy and her amber eyes sparkling. Every few minutes Suze, Aimee, Denver, or Saylene would stand up from their spot a few tables away, smooth their hair, and saunter over to chat with Massie and the rest of the Pretty Committee. For once, Claire didn't envy Massie Block's alpha position- she envied her friendships.
Across the lunch room, Layne Abeley dragged out her emerald bag/boom box and blasted a remix of Britney Spear's latest single, while Heather and Meena burst into laughter at Layne's robot-esque dance moves. Claire's head swiveled automatically, her heart in her throat and her feet mindlessly shuffling toward her ex-friend's table. Heather's head snapped up immediately and Meena glared menacingly at Claire; Layne refused to look anywhere but at her thermos of oatmeal.
"Umm," Claire started, blinking nervously, "can I sit here?"
"Why are you asking us?" Meena stated coldly, her face emotionless. "Shouldn't you be sucking up to Massie at the 'cool' table?"
"Or at least begging her forgiveness." Heather stated, glancing at Layne out of the corner of her eye pointedly, making it clear to which 'her' she was really talking about.
"Look, Layne, I'm sorry," Claire blurted, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger nervously. "I'm sorry for not thinking you were cool enough, and I'm sorry for leaving you for those Massie clones."
Layne glanced up, her green eyes twinkling mischievously, and Claire broke out in a grin. "You can't sit here…" Claire's heart deflated. "Unless you give me that Toblerone bar on your tray."
"Given." The blonde giggled, plopping down onto an orange plastic chair. Almost two months after she had moved to Westchester, Claire Lyons was back to where she had started, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
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