Disclaimer: I don't own the Clique or any characters. Obviously. Do I look like Lisi Harrison to you? Oh, wait, you can't see me. Whatever. I'm sure I don't. And I'm not. I don't think. No, seriously, I don't own the Clique. It belongs to Lisi Harrison, and I'm quite thankful she's okay with me and all the other fan fiction writers using her characters.
Bratfest At Tiffany's
by pantherscheer2010
Chapter One
"Ehmagawd!" A shout rang out in the OCD bomb shelter, and a few seconds later, Dylan Marvil's mint-green Chocolate phone flew across the room, landing safely in the small straw basket of straws that had been set on a round wooden table next to the Starbucks machine. "More pig jokes!"
"Seriously?" Alicia Rivera's big brown eyes were full of concern. "How rude."
"This is so nawt okay," Massie Block snapped as she paced back and forth in the hot-dog-shaped room, which had been recently redecorated in various shades of blue and green and now boasted a closetful of designer clothes and shoes, a complete MAC makeup counter along one wall, the Starbucks machine, and, of course, the wide-screen TV that still received images from the Share Bear, which had, fortunately, been at Dr. Loni's home when the pipe burst, and not in the ESP classroom.
Suddenly, Massie rounded on Claire Lyons, who was slumped mopily on the couch next to Alicia. "Kuh-laire, will you just snap out of it already?"
The Pretty Committee shrank back as Claire's sky-blue eyes filled with tears. Massie sighed and sat down on Claire's other side, wedging her skinny butt in between Claire and the arm of the couch. "Look, Claire, I'm really sorry," she said, using her gentlest voice. "I'm just really stressed this morning, and your Cam-related depression issues just sort of pushed me over the edge."'
"No problem." Claire sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes. Massie silently thanked Gawd that she had thought to use waterproof mascara when she did Claire's makeup this morning.
Just then, Kristen Gregory rolled her dark blue eyes and handed Dylan's phone back to her. "These are the most retarded jokes I've ever heard. 'Why did the pig cross the road?' Puh-lease! I don't know how Chris Plovert ever got into honors English with me."
Though the comment wasn't really that funny, the whole Pretty Committee burst out laughing. Massie felt her body loosen up as stress flowed out of her. She was still scared enough about the start of eighth grade to pee in her new straight-legged, dark-wash True Religions, but knowing she was going in with her friends made it just a teeny bit easier. She pulled out her pink Razr and checked the time. 8:10 A.M.--exactly ten minutes to go until the first bell rang, signaling a new school year and (possibly) the beginning of a whole new era in which Massie Block would no longer rule OCD.
Massie shuddered slightly, then tried to put the thought out of her mind. Right now, she had other things to think about.
"Outfit rating time," she told her friends, smiling in an effort to erase the nervous feeling in her stomach. "Leesh, you're first."
Alicia stepped forward and turned gracefully, enjoying the chance to model. She seemed even more gorgeous this year than she had last year. She had recently layered her long, thick jet-black mane, and her minimal makeup was all she needed. Massie would have felt a stab of jealousy if she didn't know she looked even more ah-mazing than her friend did.
"Boot-cut dark wash RL jeans and a lace trimmed red cami-tank under a turquoise velvet RL blazer," Massie announced, trying to enhance the feeling of a mini-fashion-show. "The cute red flower on the lapel of the blazer and the simple black riding boots tie everything together. I'd say it's an . . . eight-point-five."
"Yesss!" Alicia said happily as she returned to her place on the couch. She lightly tagged Kristen. "Your turn."
Kristen stood and gave a quick turn for the benefit of her audience, then flipped her short dark blond hair. It had finally grown out enough for a layered bob that hit around her chin and looked great on her. Alicia and Massie applauded for their friend, but Dylan and Claire simply made attempts that were even more pathetic than Britney's attempt at a comeback.
"You're looking sporty and cute in a purple and white Puma track jacket over a white Petit Bateaux tank and denim Chip & Pepper mini. Luh-v the purple sequin ballet flats, Kris. They make the outfit a total . . . eight."
"Thanks!" Kristen beamed as she sat back down, flipping her hair again. Massie couldn't help smiling. It was fun watching Kristen enjoy her newly regained femininity.
"Dylan, you're next," Massie said. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in her friend's haphazard apparel. "What are you wearing?" she blurted before she could stop herself.
Dylan drew herself up to her full height, which would have been a lot more impressive if she'd been over five feet tall. "FYI, black is very slimming."
Alicia rolled her eyes. "Is baggy supposed to be slimming, too?"
"Well, it's better than skintight!" Dylan wailed. "I don't want everyone at school making fun of how fat I am!"
"Dyl, you need to change," Massie ordered. "You're seriously nawt fat at all, and you'll feel way better about yourself once you're in a decent outfit."
Dylan narrowed her emerald green eyes at Massie as she stomped over to the closet, nearly tripping over the hems of her too-long, four-sizes-too-big black Juicy sweats. "Fine. But I swear to Gawd, as soon as I get home from school, I'm hiring a personal trainer, and I'm not gonna stop 'till I lose the weight I gained when I was hanging out with those stupid guys! Twelve pounds, you guys! Twelve pounds!"
Massie bit her lip to avoid laughing out loud at Dylan's dramatics. She might be a little doughy now, after eating like crazy to impress Kemp and Plovert, but she was hardly fat, or anything close to it. She put her hands on her hips and turned to face Claire, who was back to sulking on the couch. At least she knew Claire's outfit was fine--she had styled it herself.
Claire was wearing a chocolate-colored BGBG sundress with a short-sleeved stone-colored cropped jacket left open over it. On her feet were a pair of utterly ah-dorable Marc by Marc Jacobs kitten heels in brown. Her long, layered blond hair was straight and fell sleekly down her back in a way that could only be achieved through a blowout by Jakkob.
A moment later, Dylan returned from the closet, looking far happier than she had a few minutes ago. She was wearing a beautiful emerald-green silk tank top that matched her eyes perfectly, cropped dark-wash Juicy Couture jeans, and black flip flops. Massie wasn't sure the flip flops quite worked, but the outfit was so much better than what Dylan had arrived at school in, she decided to let it slide. "Seven-point-five," she informed Dylan. "Ah-dore the tank."
"Thanks! You know, I totally think I'm onto something with this whole personal trainer thing," Dylan declared. "I'm definitely hiring one."
"That's great, Dyl." Massie filed, then shot her friend a shut-up-or-else glance. "Now it's my turn. Rate me!" She whirled around a few times, giving the Pretty Committee the full effect of her outfit. She was gratified with oohs and aahs from everyone except Claire, who was staring at her special-edition Dial L for Loser phone as though she thought she could make it ring with her mind. Massie felt for her friend, but she couldn't believe Kuh-laire actually thought Cam was still going to call her. He'd held out the whole summer, hadn't he?
Massie wore gold Michael Kors flat sandals and dark-wash, straight-legged True Religions under a flowing wine-colored Stella McCartney tunic that had gold embroidery on the front. Her long, chocolate brown hair fell down her back in loose waves, and her side-bangs were positioned perfectly over one of her amber eyes. "Well?" she asked.
"Nine-point-five, for sure!" Alicia called, and Kristen and Dylan echoed her. Claire was still non-responsive, but Massie knew that was hardly a reflection on her outfit. It was time to give Claire one last pep talk before the start of eighth grade.
"Thanks, guys," Massie said, smiling brightly. "Hey, Kris, Dylan, and Alicia, can you wait outside the door for a couple minutes?" She nodded toward Claire to let them know what she planned on doing.
Alicia narrowed her brown eyes at the alpha for a moment, as if wondering whether she could trust Massie. Then she shrugged and led Kristen and Dylan toward the door. "We'll be right out here, Mass."
Massie fluttered her fingers as they exited, letting them know she was grateful that they hadn't decided to press the issue. She didn't really mind having them in the room when she tried to pep talk Claire, but she planned on being more real in an effort to get the other girl into a happier mood, and she preferred not to display her weaknesses for the whole Pretty Committee to see. It was bad enough that Claire heard about her problems on a regular basis.
"Claire, I don't want to be rude, but you've got to get over Cam sometime or another," Massie sighed, sitting down next to Claire on the couch that faced the ESP television screen.
"I know," Claire said, fiddling nervously with one of the buttons on her cropped jacket. "But I really miss him, and I screwed everything up, and I just . . ." She trailed off, and Massie put her arm around her friend.
"I do understand, you know," Massie tried. "I mean, don't you think it's hard for me, knowing that Derrington has problems with me? Do you honestly think there's even one day that goes by where I don't wonder how he could possibly have thought I was immature?"
Finally, Claire made eye contact. "How can you not be constantly freaking out, then?"
"Because I have to be strong," Massie told her friend. "If people see a weakness, they'll pounce. And besides, we don't need guys. Why do you think we're on a boy-fast?"
Claire nodded, looking less depressed and maybe even a little bit inspired. "Right. Who needs guys?" she echoed, doing her best to sound like she meant it.
"Exactly," Massie said encouragingly. "Now, let's go. It's show time."
Author's Note: Okay, so I posted the first chapter. Are you way proud of me or what? I know I am : D. I do love reviews (just a hint). Now, here are a few things you ought to know pertaining to this story:
1. I won't be updating this story again probably until after Christmas, because I'm participating in the awesomely amazing Dernier Cri's Clique Secret Santa Story Exchange thingie, and I have to work on my story for that, because there's a deadline and all. I promise to get back to work on this story as soon as possible, though. Trust me, I have loads of ideas and I'm way excited for it.
2. I was going to put one of those cool little box things that they have in the actual Clique books showing the time and place and all, but then I realized that wouldn't work because the table-inserter thing on my computer is so darn annoying. So that's too bad.
3. This is going to be from the POV of everyone in TPC. I know Kristen and Dylan usually don't get much of that, but I gave them some pretty big challenges and events and such in this fic, so I wanted to let them have bigger roles and maybe develop them more as characters, since Lisi Harrison really doesn't.
Okay, so you know how earlier I said that thing about hinting for reviews? I changed my mind. REVIEW OR DIE!!!
Kidding again. Reviews are awesome if you can make that your Christmas present to me, and I adore absolutely anyone who reads this! I would never threaten for reviews.
One more completely unrelated thing before I go: Congratulations to Panther Varsity Football for your amazing season! First in league and a trip to CIF semifinals! Wow. No one would have believed it at the beginning of the season. I'm way proud of you guys, and especially the guys in my grade who made Varsity or moved up for playoffs, because you were awesome on JV, too!
Now I really am done. Hope you didn't mind the little shout out to my school's football team. They were really great this year, and they had an incredible season, especially considering we aren't usually considered a good football school.
Like I said, reviews make my toes twinkle! (Actually, I never said that, but whatever!)