Heyheyhey Fanfictioners! Long time no see, eh? I finally decided to update. WHAT. THE. HELL. RIGHT. But yeah. Before you kill me for not updating in like eternity, you guys gotta thank Sharine (statuscrawler). OMFG GUYS THIS GIRL IS SERIOUSLY LIKE FREAKING AMAZING LIKE SHE SHOULD TOTALLY BECOME A MOTIVATIONAL SPEAKER LIKE HER REVIEWS ARE LIKE FLUFFY CUPCAKES LIKE OMFG GO CHECK HER STORIES OUT CUZ THEY ARE FREAKING LIKE ICE CREAM CAKE ITS SO GOOD AHHHHHHHHH

Okay.

Semi-normality has been restored. I also wanna thank EVERYBODY who reviewed and read, or mentally reviewed. And you people who have been urging me to update should really go shower Sharine and Joy (outside the crayon box) for making me update.

And now, I give you the song that inspired this chapter titleeee.

Go check out: "Let Her Go"- Passenger

Fluffy teddy bears.

-Anastasia

.:only know you love her when you let her go:.

Alicia Rivera snarled angrily as she retouched her make-up. Stupid new girl, HUMILIATING her in front of EVERYONE. She was still queen. Alicia would be damned if she let some new loser just steal her hard-earned alpha spot at the drop of a hat. She smirked, her ruby stained lips curving into a devilish smirk as she remembered how she completely destroyed Natalie, the old BOCD alpha, with only a few pictures and Photoshop. Alicia had photoshopped pictures of Natalie sleeping with everyone's boyfriends, resulting in the former alpha moving to England. That reminds me...I could get some dirt on her and unleash it, easily. That bitch is more over than the skull-n-crossbones fad.

Alicia carefully relined her coffee colored eyes with black liquid liner and fixed her mascara before angrily throwing everything back into her oversized white-gold Prada fringe purse and storming out. She knew just where to go. She whipped out her iPhone and texted someone, looking around furtively before scurrying down to the tech wing. Alicia peered around the pillar, making sure the coast was clear. If anyone saw her here, her reputation as alpha queen would be completely DONE. When she was sure it was safe, she stepped out.

"Hello, Elliot," Alicia called, her voice low and smoky. A figure spun around in a desk chair to face her, the way villains do in mystery or horror movies. It was a boy, a boy with stringy, greasy black hair and a face full of acne that rivalled a pizza.

"Why hello, Alicia. So you texted. What do you want?"

"I want a favor. Do you have any bugging devices?"

"Psh, of course I do. Now what does a lovely socialite like you want with a bugging device?"

"Gossip, of course."

"I presumed correctly. Now, do you need me to install it for you?"

"Yes."

"On what?"

"In Derrick Harrington's car."

"Consider it done. But it comes at a price."

"I'll pay. How much do you want?"

"Oh...it's not money that I'm interested in. I'm interested in you."

"So you want sex?"

"Correct."

Alicia gulped, repulsed at the idea of having to seduce this...nerdy loser. But anything to take down Massie, anything.

"Sure, hun. When can we meet?"

"I like my payments now."

"Ugh, fine," Alicia said, kicking off her heels and stripping off her black bomber jacket and V-neck, revealing a D-cup bra that barely restrained her overflowing chest. Elliot's eyes widened appreciatively as he scanned her body shamelessly, watching her strip down to her thong. Alicia grimaced and swallowed nervously before sexily walking over to Elliot and kissing him aggressively. When Elliot began to unclasp her bra and shimmy her out of her underwear while pinning her to the wall, Alicia squeezed her eyes shut. This better be worth it…

Massie had gotten so bored, that at this point she was actually considering to converse with Derrick Harrington. Wow. Now that, was a depressing thought. The brunette stared at the blinking numbers of the digital clock on the wall; willing the minutes to go by faster. Hurry up you stupid clock, I've got better things to do than sit here and talk to freaking clocks. The twinkling red numbers seemed to be taunting her mockingly, and Massie felt like punching the clock, punching someone- anything. That "anything" turned out to be Derrick. Damn, did the secretary or whoever decided my schedule get bribed by Derrick to be put in all of my classes or something?

"Block, please consider go-"

THWACK.

The sharp sound of Massie's fist connecting with Derrick's now-turning-purple face silenced the chattering classroom as it rang through the room. All heads snapped in their direction, mouths agape. WELL, so much for not attracting any attention the first day, Mass! Claire's cerulean eyes were the size of a giant's dinner platter, a ghost of a smile on her bubblegum pink lips. Massie's annoyed amber irises met Claire's crystal blue ones, and they started cracking up.

"WHAT THE HELL, BLOCK?" Derrick shouted, nursing his injury.

"Well, you see, I was really annoyed with the stupid fucking clock for being so slow, and then YOU had to come along, and that just annoyed me even more, so I had to unleash my anger on something that wasn't a person," the brunette stated matter-of-factly.

"HOW THE HELL AM I NOT A PERSON?"

"You are technically a person, but who gives a shit about technicalities right? In MY mind, you technically don't matter enough to be a person."

"Ooh, harsh, Block, I'm so mortally wounded," Derrick said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"Then please die somewhere where the stench of your rotting corpse won't affect me," Massie retorted. Claire's head went back and forth between Massie and Derrick, watching them insult each other like a tennis match.

"Boy, if I had some popcorn, this would be amazing!" Claire interjected, still watching the two as they whirled around to face her incredulously.

"Look, idiot, I don't care what your deal is, just fucking leave me alone, you arrogant jerkfaced bastar-"

BBBBBRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGG!

Massie instead chose to glare at the annoying jerk, her eloquent speech having been cut off by the goddamn bell. The girl grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, storming out of the classroom angrily. Stupid goddamned idiot, can't leave me alone for three seconds- no wonder he got punched, interrupting my conversation with the clocks like that! How dare he?! The clocks could have been about to tell me the secret to making clocks run faster or something that would have gotten me out of stupid Advanced Geometry like who asked me to suffer through Geometry with Derrick Harrington of all people if you ask me he deserved it! Massie stopped, realizing that her ranting had not been as internal as she thought and now she was eliciting a few less-than-hey-it's-a-new-girl stares.

"Are you on crack or something?"

Massie whipped around to glare daggers at the offender. It was another cute boy (gah almost all guys at the school were cute), one with sandy mahogany hair that fell shaggily into his amused yet condescending blue eyes. Black framed Ray Ban nerd glasses were perched on his nose, hiding his spray of freckles. The brunette hated the fact that she had to look up at him to be able to insult him to tears, seeing that he was a good 6 inches taller. Note to self: drink milk. He also looked muscular, and seemed like a nerd-jock type of guy. Sorta like Cam, just more nerd.

"No. Where the hell would you get that idea? Do I look like a person who would be on crack?"

"Eh, not really. Although you do look like you could beat the living shit out of me."

"You bet I can. Wanna sample?"

"Surprisingly, I'm good. Look Massie, I didn't come here to fight. I was just walking by and heard your not-so-normal rant," the boy commented dryly.

"Okay: 1) Who the hell are you? 2) How the hell do you know my name? and 3) I can rant all I want, so shut up," Massie pointed out.

"Well, if you really must know, I'm Chris, Chris Plovert. Ring a bell?"

"Um, not really. I've never seen you before in my life so how the hell would I know yo- hey! I know you! Cam mentioned you were on the soccer team! And your girlfriend is Dylan, she's my friend."

"Wow, you get around, Mass," Chris chuckled.

"Only FRIENDS call me "Mass". And I haven't decided if you're worthy or not. But Dylan's dating you so you can't be THAT bad..."

"Gee, thanks for the kind heart-warming words, MASS."

"I've decided. I like you. You're sarcastic and funny. I like that. You're like me!"

"You're such a kid, now let's go. What class do you have now?"

"AP Euro, nerd."

"Well then you're a nerd too because I have that class with you, so you're stuck with me," Chris grinned, dragging a grumbling Massie along behind him.

When they reached the door of room C342, the brown-haired girl dug her heels into the floor. "Chris, I don't know about you, but I'm not going into that classroom 15 minutes late without a legit sounding excuse. Ideas?"

"I'm no amateur, Mass- trust me, I got it covered," Chris snorted, reaching for the handle.

"Why should I trust you? I just met you ten seconds ago! Mommy always says don't talk to strangers!" Massie complained as she resisted Chris, who was trying to drag her into the classroom.

"Well then, you're about ten seconds too late. Come on, loser," Chris retorted, successfully shoving her into the classroom full of staring people. Millie Herrera was a slender blonde with a sleek bob and a mean glare. Her seemingly friendly brown eyes hardened into a bone-chilling glare before the word "bipolar" even entered Massie's mind.

"Mr. Plovert and Ms. Block, care to explain why you're 15 minutes late to class?"

"Actually, Ms. Herrera, Massie is new here; as you already know. I was just minding my own business in the hallway when I noticed poor Ms. Block wandering around trying to find her classes; and decided to help her out of the pure golden goodness of my great heart. Except we were all the way across our beautiful yet painstakingly extensive campus in the math wing, where Ms. Block was," the brunette boy proclaimed dramatically, earning a few muffled giggles from the class, an eye roll from Ms. Herrera, and a incredulous snort from the short brunette standing next to him.

"Fine, you're absence is excused. And for the love of God, join the theatre club or something, Chris," the teacher said, eyes rolling heaven-bound as she returned to the lesson on the Hundred Years' War.

"Told you I had it covered," Chris whispered as they took their seats at the back of the classroom.

"Yeah, yeah; great performance, bravo," Massie said, throwing in a signature eye roll. Chris "hmphed" apparently insulted that Massie had not appreciated his God-given talents in a better way.

"You know what would impress me? If you can get me out of this class in approximately two seconds."

"I wish I could do that, and save myself from this ear-damning torture, but I can introduce you to the soccer team and all of my friends and stuff during lunch."

"Now give me one good reason why I would want to willingly spend time with more buffoons like you?"

"So you don't look like a loner on your first day here and have to eat in the bathroom like Cady did on her first day at North Shore in Mean Girls."

Massie coughed, choking back a laugh. "Chris Plovert…did you...did you just reference Mean Girls?!"

"Um...maybe…"

Massie's slender frame shook violently as fits of laughter that she was working reallllyyyy hard to suppress wracked it. "Oh my fucking God, you've watched Mean Girls and referenced it! I bet you can quote it too!"

"Don't insult me! I can quote it, as a matter of fact. Get in loser, we're going shopping!"

"Bravo, Chris, bravo."

So today Massie Block learned something that shocked her and almost made her spit-take.

GUYS WATCH AND REFERENCE AND QUOTE MEAN GIRLS TOO. WHAT. THE. HELL.

Okay, fine. SO maybe it was just one guy who was hilarious and basically Massie's twin. But you know, whatever.

SO HOW WAS MY FIRST UPDATE IN GOD-KNOWS-HOW-LONG?!

REVIEW.