AN:
So I want to make this story a little more interactive between me (author) and you (reader.) I don't want it to be just an I-write-you-read kind of thing because that's boring. I would like to make the story appeal to you guys as much as possible. I take your comments highly into consideration but please remember I am the one who is writing this so not everything will be able to correspond with what you want personally. Thanks for understanding and I love the ideas and suggestions so far.
Anyways, I just discovered Polyvore (I know; so sad) and I got addicted. So I thought outside the box and decided to try something new.
Wanna check out the Clique members' outfits in this chapter? Here are the links:
Massie: .com/cgi/set?id=17666506
Dylan + Kristen: .com/cgi/set?id=17666626
Claire + Alicia: .com/cgi/set?id=17666721
(it's on Polyvore. In other words type polyvore then the URL from above. I don't know why its not showing the website name.)
What do you guys think? Cute? Horrible? Which outfit would you most likely wear? Do you want more? Comments would be nice.
Enjoy.
~HTW
4
Ritz-Carlton Hotel Suite
-Main Room-
2:15 PM, Sunday
"I'm too tired for this," Massie reclined into her seat lazily.
Massie and her four best friends were all gathered around the poker table, healing from a night of over-partying—except Kristen, that is.
Alicia Rivera blew out a long breath and closed her eyes, which were painted a baked brown.
Kristen Gregory pulled her blond hair into a high ponytail and set it in place with a hair tie.
Claire Lyons stared at her nails, daring herself to bite the perfect French manicure she had done herself.
"Come on you guys," Dylan Marvil glared at the boredom that enveloped their group, "It's Sunday!"
Massie rolled her eyes, crossing one tan leg over the other. She was debuting a pair of mint-green shorts and a flowy tunic tank with a bow at the chest. Her feet relaxed in a pair of beige gladiator sandals and her hair was dangling in a loose yet sexy bun.
"Dyl, where do you get all that energy?" Alicia held onto her forehead, clearly still recovering from a hangover. But even with what was probably a burning headache, her completion was still smooth and flawless. A navy striped dress wrapped in a cardigan and a brown plaited belt kept her curves accentuated yet reserve.
"Seriously," Claire limply took a sip of her frappuccino. She was holding a colorful pillow, which popped against the large grey NYU sweatshirt she had on over a pair of cherry red shorts. "Do you ever take a break?"
"Hey, what's with the hate-fest?" Dylan leaned back enthusiastically. Her turquoise tank was tucked into a high waisted skirt. She also wore a cardigan, but hers was thin and tiny and hung off her shoulders.
"At least you can have fun," Kristen injected. Everyone groaned, knowing Kristen's long held grudge against her strict parents. "Don't worry, I won't bore you guys with my life story." She assured them, playing with the loose string coming out of her frail white tee. Her simple top was tucked into a pair of camouflage green shorts with a sewn in crème colored ribbon belt.
"Knock, knock!" A narrated double knock rang against the oak door to Dylan's suite.
"Who is it?" Dylan called back.
"Room service," Cam's obnoxious voice answered back.
"You can leave it out," Dylan responded nonchalantly as the others snickered.
"Aww, come on Dyl," Massie could practically see Cam slumping his shoulders and pouting his lips in her mind. He was way too predictable. "I brought presents," He drew his voice up in the same way a stranger would offer a child candy from his van.
"It's open."
"You're so easy," Cam sauntered in with three of his soccer friends—Josh Hotz, Kemp Hurley, and Chris Provlet. "Would you make out with me if I said I brought presents?"
"Please," Dylan leaned back into her seat, pushing her chest up high in the air, "I'd make out with you if you brought me drinks."
"Well," Cam raised a devious brow, "Isn't it just convenient that we went and got some?" He slid his hands into the brown paper bag he had been carrying and pulled out a glossy bottle of liquor.
"Now Marvil," Cam grinned as he set the bottle of Jack down on the table, "Where's my kiss?"
"On your ass, you perv," Dylan giggled as she headed for the kitchen/bar with the bottle in hand. "Maybe if you brought more." She requested as she dumped the bottle of Whiskey and some coke into a drink mixer.
"Ah, see Dylan, I knew you would raise the bar. So we got eight bottles; one for each of us," He said as he slid into the seat next to Massie, which Dylan had left unoccupied, "Except for you. I know how you don't like to drink Mass," He slipped a hand under her chin and tickled it slightly.
Massie turned away, rolling her eyes, but smiled anyway.
"So," Dylan announced from the bar, lifting up a cup of Whiskey and Coke as if it were Michael Phelps' eighth metal, "Who's in the mood for drinks!"
A loud series of mumbles and moans escaped everyone's lips, except Cam who jumped out of his seat and raced for a glass.
"Where's Derrick?" Massie asked, as casually as possible.
"He left," Josh, who Massie had always found gorgeous but not dating material, pulled a chair into their circle, "when we went to the drug store we bumped into January and they went to get coffee together."
"Man," Chris Plovert took over Dylan/Cam's seat, "That kid knows how to get around. He's already hooked up with someone."
Massie's face grew pink as she stared at the boys uncomfortably. Had Derrick told them?
"Oh ya, who was the girl again?" Kemp Hurley placed himself on the armrest of Claire's chair.
"Don't know," Massie breathed a sigh of relief at Chris' answer, "He said it was nothing. He probably plays girls better then soccer."
The boys laughed as Massie's anger broiled up to her cheeks again in a flush of tomato redness. How dare Derrick say Massie was nothing. She wasn't just some slut he could "play." That son of a bitch was not going to get away with this. Derrick should have known that the games didn't start until Massie joined in.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
4
Liquor Deli
-Drug Store-
1:30 PM, Sunday
"Check this out," Derrick watched as Kemp pulled out a blow up doll and started grinding up on the Dolly look alike.
"Dude," Chris laughed as he pulled the curvy blond by its plastic hand and yanked it away, "Grow up."
"Woh," Kemp stepped back and raised both arms in the air as if defeated, "getting defensive on your girl Chris?"
Chris just rolled his eyes and propped the doll back in its place with her twenty other identical twins.
"So," Chris turned to Derrick, "enjoying Westchester?"
"Westchester girls?" Kemp injected, popping up a brow.
"Sure, I mean they're pretty easy," He answered bluntly.
"Wow, looks like our man already got busy," Kemp scooted in closer and nudged his arm, "So who is it?"
Derrick hesitated. Massie didn't seem too excited for her friends to find out about them hooking up. It was probably nothing to her, "No one, it doesn't really matter."
Kemp's eyes narrowed while Chris watched him suspiciously, it was clear they were prepared to dig in deeper, but luckily they were interrupted by Cam.
"Get over here," Cam called from the freezer where he and Josh were loitering. As Derrick approached, Cam opened the glass door to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of Jack Daniels.
Derrick watched as Josh grabbed two bottles as well. Kemp and Chris had wondered over by now and were each greedily holding onto two more bottles.
"How are you going to buy that?"
"Oh, young disciple," Cam answered in a Confusions manner, wrapping his arm over Derrick's broad shoulder and stretching out his hand—which held a bottle—into the distance, "You have much to learn."
"Shut up," Derrick chuckled as he pushed Cam aside.
"Woh, careful," Cam snickered as they sauntered over to the cash register, where a college kid was seated lazily.
They set the eight bottles of whiskey down on the tin counter and smiled cockily at the suspicious glare the cashier boy was throwing them.
"ID," Mark, as his crooked nametag read, stuck out his rough hand and waited impatiently.
Cam dug out two hundred dollar bills from his pocket and openly handed the money to Mark, who scanned the room quickly before tucking the bills into his khaki pants.
He grabbed a bottle and scanned it eight times, "one-ninety-six." He reported blandly as he greedily received another two hundred dollars from Cam.
"Keep the change," Cam grinned widely as Mark stuffed the bottles into paper bags and hurriedly dismissed them as if they were termites infesting the store.
The boys stepped out into the breezy streets and breathed loudly.
"Very skilled, master," Derrick imitated, staring at Cam with mock admiration.
"Whatever," Cam shook his head with a laugh, "at least we got the drinks."
"Derrick?"
Derrick turned around to find a girl from Dylan's party standing behind them.
"Oh hey," Derrick smiled, "January, right?"
"Yea, what are you guys doing here?" She asked, as if just suddenly realizing the others were there.
"Drinks," Cam wriggled the paper sacks proudly.
"What are you doing here?" Derrick asked in return.
"I'm gonna go get coffee, do you guys want to come with?" She suggested sweetly.
"Nah," Cam shrugged, "We have to get these drinks to Dylan's."
"Oh," January looked down, almost as if she was embarrassed she had asked, "cool."
"I'll go with you," Derrick offered instinctively. It kind of just slipped out, but he didn't regret it. After all, January was really cute, with her straight black hair and petite yet shaped body.
Why not? Massie sure didn't seem too interested in anything serious. She wouldn't mind, right?
Wrong.
AN: Sorry it's kind of sloppy. I'm really bad with boy POVs but I tried out Derrick's POV anyway. What do you guys think?