A/N: Hii, what's going on? Sorry, I've been beyond busy and totally stressed. Happy Holidays to all; I hope you have a happy new year. 3

Clique: I own nothing except the content of this fanfic

I wish I was brave like those knights in those fairytales. Long stories of heroic deeds, various hardships and all…but in the end, the knight always gets the girl. Princesses with long hair, terrible pasts, sleeping disorders—whatever it was, the girl was living and breathing and beautiful, down-to-Earth and terribly kind—just like my Kristen used to be.

And now she's transformed like one of those ugly stepsisters or something, minus the ugly part. She's just as gorgeous as ever, but vain and supposedly a dumb blonde. Kristen giggles and twirls her blonde locks which she curls and crimps and perms, and she leads around Dylan, Alicia, Olivia, and Claire, the newest addition to the Pretty Committee, as if she owned them all.

Kristen paints her nails with some French style or something, and she's always draped in designers, and she rarely plays soccer anymore. Kristen prances around in 3-inch-heels and swings her hips and gossips and controllers, commanding even more effectively than Massie.

Ouch, speak of the devil. Here she comes now, in a girly chiffon top and no-name jeans, reminding me of one of the art club freaks. Actually, Massie basically is an art freak, a beyond scary version of her old self, but nicer. Her sharp as dagger heels announce her arrival, as does the jingling ring of her bangles, necklaces, and earrings. Automatically, Massie's amber eyes find mine, and her ponytail swings as she makes an attempt to jog towards me.

"Derrick!" she whisper-hisses, obviously walking to the beat of some song…"Derrick Harrington, I need your help!"

"SOS!" jeers a classmate, teasing Massie. Massie waves him away impatiently; still walking down the hall in that perfect beat that seems pathetic alone.

Jingle Bells! Massie Block is walking to the beat of Jingle Bells! I giggle helplessly, fighting the urge to tell her that Christmas is so over.

"You need my help," I say calmly, a transformed man without my Kristen...okay, well, boy.

Massie nods rapidly, not over her gum obsession. Her mouth works to fight the evil sweetness of a piece of Juicy Fruit gum, managing to remain in a hard, thin line. "I need you…" she pauses, tugging me backwards and away from an approaching crowd of students.

I wait for her to continue, but she doesn't. "Well, what is it?"

"That's just it." Massie says edgily, leaning closer to me. "I need you, Derrick. I love you. Get back together with me, please, I'm begging, I love you."

Somehow, I'm buying it. But she does not impress me. I don't love her, I love Kristen, and no-one could ever take her place, no matter how high the heels. "No, you love the popularity," I reply, and know that it is true, but that she does love me, "You love the popularity, and now that it's gone, you want to begin dating me, male alpha, so that it comes back, isn't that right? You'd probably ask one of the others, except all the 'cool' ones are already taken, am I right?"

Silence greets me with opened arms. I welcome the embrace. We stand there, not speaking until she sighs, lowering her heavily made-up eyes. "If that's how you feel, Derrick," she says tiredly. "Goodbye, then." Her left hand automatically reaches out to touch my cheek; I shiver. The move is so like Kristen that my heart leaps, forgetting whose hand is resting on my cheek.

"Bye," I said slowly, not sure why my insides flip-flopped, reacting so weirdly when it was only Massie.

Massie slid away, disappearing down the hall. Five new girls take her place, and one is achingly familiar; Kristen and her crew, the Pretty Committee.

"Hi Derrick," she coos, her friends giggling and blowing bubble gum behind her. Shamelessly, I give her the once-over; my brown eyes lingering on parts that should've gone unnoticed…those parts.

I flip my hair casually away from my face, blowing at it once. "Hiya," I lift my hand to wave, then change my mind and stick it behind my back.

"You miss me?" She asks in a flirtatious way.

I want to say, 'you wish,' or, 'no, not really,' but instead I speak the truth. "Yes," I say, aching and longing for the old Kristen.

"Aw, I'm sorry about that. Meet me at 7:00pm, at the local theater. And oh, bring your lips." The remark is clearly meant to be edgy and sexy, but Kristen just doesn't have Massie's talent for cutting statements.

Instead of being speechless like I would've been with one of Massie's sayings, I find myself wanting to scream, 'how could I possibly leave them behind?'

Alicia leads a chorus of squeals, as if Kristen said something witty and clever, and they all high-five.

"Our movie date will go something like this." Kristen leans forward and plants her glossy lips on mine, mushing us together until I think I'm going to die from lack of air. Finally, I sigh, letting myself enjoy the kiss fully. We come up for a breath, but before long, her tongue's intertwined with mine.

A cry like a wounded animal brings me to me senses; I pull up, seeing Massie's lips trembling and her mouth in an 'O' shape, disbelieving expression making me guilty.

"Sorry," I mumble as I see defeated tears gathering in Massie's eyes. My heart feels defeated itself; If I can't satisfy everyone, then who on earth can I satisfy; because right now the answer is no-one.

Massie ignores me, but has a message for Kristen. "Take him, nerd girl. It's not like I'd waste my time on a dude with a peanut where his brain should be." And with that, she storms away.

There is a silence. And Kristen breaks it all with a single sigh.

"Poor sweetie; I can't wait until she runs back to hell, where dogs like her belong."