Hey! I'm ba-ack! How was Europe, you may ask? PM me for my Instagram if you want pictures! Anyway, here's your long-awaited chapter! I will be expect some long-awaited reviews! *wink, wink*
Heart ya,
Joy
AUNT JEAN'S HOUSE
MASSIE'S ROOM
8:08 AM
JULY 4, 2013
Massie had set her alarm for 8:00, but it had taken her eight minutes to wrench herself out of bed. She had to get back to that park before someone made her stay for breakfast. Who knew when that boy would turn up? And she wanted to make sure she was there when he did.
She left a hastily scribbled note for her mother and slipped out the back door. The air was pleasantly cool. She strolled down the street, wrapping her Victoria's Secret knit jacket tighter around her, trying to block the crisp gusts of wind.
Before she opened the gate, she checked her Lancome makeup in the compact she always carried with her. The CoverGirl blush had long since run out, but she'd considered it her lucky mirror ever since she'd hosted the first successful Pretty Committee sleepover with it in her pocket.
She stepped inside. The place was empty, except for a young woman running laps on the asphalt track.
"Hello?"
She jumped a mile and instinctively reached for her phone. Then she cautiously turned around.
The boy.
"Paranoid much?" he teased.
"No way," she replied.
"You wanna, um, walk or something?" he offered.
"Sure." She kept pace with him as he took off toward a dirt path that led into the sparse woods surrounding the place.
"I see you didn't bring those two."
"Brigitte and Thérèse? Oh Gawd."
He laughed. Not a high-pitched giggle, but a real boy laugh. It made her feel small and shy, a first for Massie Block since she left the Ahnnabees. "I don't think I know your name."
"Massie," she told him. "Massie Block."
"Alex Carson."
"Carson?" she repeated vaguely. Where did she know that name?
He noticed her expression. "Yeah, those Carsons." He took on a look of disgust. "The ones with their own personal museum, right here in Paris." He rolled his eyes.
"But... Carson isn't even a French name."
He smiled slightly. "My mom's the one who's French. My dad's plain old American. Been there for generations."
"Gotcha." She noted how easy it was to talk to this boy. Alex.
"So tell me about yourself," he prompted as the trees began to grow more dense.
"Uh, well, my name is Massie Block. My parents are Kendra and William Block. You've maybe heard of them. No? Well, they're major players in the Westchester social scene. They're big on hosting fundraisers."
"Okay," he said dubiously. "But tell me about you. Not the shell everyone knows. You."
"Oh, uh..." She immediately felt stupid. "So. I, well, what do you want to know?"
"Describe yourself in a word."
"Fashionable."
"No. I mean your personality."
"Um..." Why was this so hard? Did she not even know her own freaking personality? She hesitated for a long, long moment.
"Alright, never mind that. Tell me about your friends."
Her face lit up. That was easy. "I've got four."
"Only four?" he questioned.
"Well, four best friends. And-" She thought about it. "You know, maybe that is it. But they're more than just friends. They're like sisters. I don't need anyone else." She glowed. "There's Alicia, my Beta."
"Your Beta?"
"Yeah. We're all part of this," the word clique felt stupid and shallow, "group called the Pretty Committee. And I'm the Alpha. So she's my Beta."
"The Pretty Committee?" he repeated. His eyes twinkled.
"Yes. Do you have a problem with that?"
"No. Not at all," he assured her. "Continue about Alicia."
"Alright. Well, she's Spanish, born in Spain. She's uber-pretty. She does dance, is totally into fashion, like as much as I am, which is a lot. She loves Ralph Lauren. I know she wants to be Alpha, but she never will be, so I don't mention it. Anything else?"
"That's all you know about her? What about her favorite color? Her favorite food? What do you guys do when you're alone? What are your favorite memories together?"
"Her favorite color is burgundy, I think. Her wing of her mansion is all burgundy and gold, and she looks fantastic in it. Favorite food? Maybe Caesar salad. She doesn't eat a whole lot. We paint each other's nails and," she didn't want to use the word gossip, "talk about... stuff."
"What about memories?"
"We, um... I don't remember everything!"
"Alright, alright." He held his hands up in surrender, his dark eyes glittering."Tell me about the next one. Your Gamma, I presume?"
"Yeah. Dylan Marvil, daughter of Merri-Lee Marvil, host of The Daily Grind. She has two older sisters, and they and her mom live in Cali. They want her to move there with them, but right now she's still in Westchester. Her favorite color is hot pink, even though it looks horrible x10 awn her. Her favorite food is chocolate, or anything sweet. She's really fun, but kinda gross when she burps awl the time."
"Delta?"
"Kristen Gregory. She's poor, but we love her anyway. She's on a scholarship at Octavian Country Day, our private school, and she's the captain of the sixth-grade soccer team. She plays forward. Oh yeah, and her parents just got divorced." She pouted her glossy lips.
"Epsilon?"
Massie grinned. "She's my best friend. Her name is Kuh-laire Lyons. Right now, she's in EWlando visiting people."
"EWlando?"
She blushed. What if Alex was from Orlando? She'd just completely ruined her chances of... anything. "Orlando," she muttered. "Orlando, Florida. She has a boyfriend named Cam who sends her gummies, which she eats, like, 24/7. Her favorite food is mac&cheese." She made a face. "Her favorite drink is Arizona, the iced tea. Anything blue looks great awn her, cuz it makes her eyes sparkle, but she won't wear makeup. And she won't really wear heels either, for that matter. I think my favorite memory of us is when I gave her the dress. Or, actually, no. My favorite moment was when I let her into the Pretty Committee, even though Leesh hated me for it." And she smiled.
"That's what I was looking for. Friendship is something that comes from the heart."
Massie nodded seriously and considered The Pretty Committee. Did she hold a place for Alicia, Dylan, and Kristen in her heart? Maybe a little. She certainly had fun with them. They laughed and cried and did everything together. But Claire? Claire had meant something to Massie from the second she let herself see past the LBR. Claire definitely held a spot, a prime, VIP spot, in Massie's heart.
"...why isn't she your Beta?"
"Sorry. What? Who?"
"Kuh-laire, as you called her. But I'll hazard a guess her real name is Claire."
"How'd you know?"
"I noticed your New York accent. Kuh-laire kind of sounds like Claire if you say it normally."
"It's more than a New York accent. It's her nickname."
"Got it. Anyway, why isn't she your Beta if she's your best friend?"
"Well, um..." What was with the blushing around this kid? Why didn't she know what to say? Massie Block was never, ever lost for words. Not even with tremendously cute boys like the one standing in front of her. "I..." There were a thousand answers running through her head. 'She's poor. Skye doesn't like her. She can't come back from anything. Half the school thinks she's an LBR. She's friends with Layme.' What she ended up saying was, "She lives in my guesthouse."
He sounded outraged. "So she can't be-Oh, okay. She's a little tight, isn't she?"
Massie pursed her lips. "Yeah."
"But does that really mean she can't be your Beta?"
Massie thought about it. "But I meant Alicia first." Her argument sounded half-hearted, even to herself.
"So?"
"It's just the way things are." She pretended to check the time on her watch, then said, "I gotta go. See you tomorrow. Maybe."
He waggled his long fingers at her and turned away.
The entire walk home, his words played on a constant loop through her mind. Why couldn't Claire be her Beta? Really, why was it such a big deal? She tried to banish the thoughts, but no luck. Massie had a good memory and a love of obsessing. Sometimes it was a blessing, sometimes a curse. This time, she wasn't sure which.
RIVERA MANSION
MASTER BEDROOM
2:29 AM
JULY 4, 2013
"Puh-lease," Alicia moaned as she dragged herself into the room her entire family except for her was now sharing. Even her cat, Marshmallow, was curled up snugly between the two cradles that held the screaming babies. She wasn't affected."Shut up."
"No hables con tus hermanos nacidos de esa manera," scolded Ally, rolling over and groaning.
"Lo siento," Alicia grumbled. She couldn't believe this wasn't bothering her parents.
Maybe the kids were hungry. She offered to feed them, holding up the formula the nurse at the hospital had given them.
"Gracias, Alicia." Ally smiled feebly, rubbing her midsection. "No estar embarazada se siente tan diferente," she mused.
Alicia ducked her head. She didn't want to discuss her mother's pregnancy. It was over, she'd had the twins, that was it. She carefully spooned the stuff into Melinda and Zachary's mouths, focusing as hard as she could on not thinking about what the crap looked like. They immediately dropped back off to sleep. "Buenas noches," she mumbled, slinking back to her room, and praying that every night wouldn't be like this.
PINEWOOD APARTMENTS
KRISTEN'S ROOM
10:03 AM
JULY 4, 2013
She woke up to a text from Dylan.
BIGREDHEAD: Kemp asked me awn another date!
SEXYSPORTSBABE: That's gr8!
BIGREDHEAD: i just wanted 2 make sure it was OK w/ u.
SEXYSPORTSBABE: i told u: knock urself out. IK ur happy.
BIGREDHEAD: Don't b mad, Kris.
SEXYSPORTSBABE: i'm nawt, i'm nawt. Really, i'm nawt.
BIGREDHEAD: Thx, girl. :)
Independent. She had to learn to be independent. She'd find herself another boy. One that deserved her. She'd be a much better girlfriend than Dylan. She had to be.
Independence. After all, that was what today was all about.
Happy Fourth of July.
WANG HOUSE
DYLAN'S ROOM
10:07 AM
JULY 4, 2013
Ding! Ding! Dylan looked wildly around, trying to judge where the ringing was coming from. She located the laptop on her desk and threw it open. Someone was trying to call her on Skype. She answered without checking who it was.
"Hello?"
"Happy Fourth of July!" her sisters and mother trilled, dressed in red, white, and blue, right down to their makeup, hair (obviously extensions and clips), and even skin tone. Merri-Lee was paler than ever, having been doused in thick powder, Ryan was sky-blue (and sat glaring at her arm, twisting it angrily), and Jaime was red, and gave off the appearance of being just a bit more sunburned than usual.
Dylan shook her head. "What is going awn? And why are you up this early?"
"I'm taking the girls on the show," Merri-Lee explained.
"Ah. Well, I gotta go. I'm meeting Kemp in an hour. We're going mini-golfing."
"Kemp?" Ryan repeated. "As in, a boy?"
She smirked.
"Omigod!" Ryan shrieked. "You have a boyfriend!"
"Is he nice, sweetie?" Merri-Lee inquired.
"Of course he's nice. Do you think I would go out with some creep?"
"Stay around other people," Merri-Lee instructed. "And don't do anything you don't want to."
"We're going into seventh grade, Mom. What do you think he's going to do, feel me up?"
"It happens," her mother and Jaime said at the same time.
"Alright; everything's fine; I'll be fine. Happy Fourth to you too. I'll call you later and tell you how it went if you want."
"That sounds great. And honey, have you given any more thought to moving out-"
"Bye! Love you! Bye!" And she jammed her finger onto the power button, turning the computer off before her mother had even hung up.
WESTCHESTER SPORTS COMPLEX
MINI-GOLF COURSE
11:19 AM
JULY 4, 2013
DYLAN'S POV
Energetically, she swung her club around so hard it flew out of her hand. "Oops," she giggled, her face turning red as she bent to retrieve it.
Kemp placed a hand on her shoulder. "Save that for the actual game." He flapped the score cards in the light breeze that was a relief on such a day. "You're going down."
"I don't think so." She grinned and ran toward the beginning of the course.
Kemp shook his shaggy black bangs out of his face and blinked his dark eyes a couple of times, trying to decipher Dylan's beauty. He could see how she might be attractive to some people; with her long red waves, creamy skin, perfect makeup and nails, designer clothes, and noticable curves. But she wasn't really his type.
The only reason he'd asked her out was for the connections. He might come from a semi-rich family, but that was new money. His father was out of the picture, but his mother was the branch manager of the entire tri-state area of IBM. That made her a good amount of dough, but it didn't come with fame. In Westchester, $875,000 a year wasn't something to be all that proud of.
KRISTEN'S POV
"Hurry up, Belle." Kristen knew she still had feelings for Kemp, but she needed to let them go. And the only way she knew how to do that was in a good game of soccer. "Come awn!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Belle hollered back. It was true. She was sprinting towards the soccer field as quickly as she could, a soccer ball under one arm. Her cleats dug into the hard-packed ground, and her braid, almost the same color as Kristen's, fell down her back in a perfectly straight, neat line. Small gold hoops hung in her ears. "You want me to be goalie first?" she asked.
"Sure." Kristen took the ball, slammed her foot down on it to keep it still, and waited for Belle to position herself. "Ready? I'm getting the feeling I'm going to be kicking extra hard today."
"Why?" Belle wondered.
She didn't feel like venturing into the whole Kemp business. That was between her and Dylan. She hadn't let Kemp know a single thing. "Just cuz."
Belle wasn't one for prying. "K. Kick."
Kristen took a step back, focused, leapt forward, and connected with the ball hard. It sailed into the air and headed straight toward Belle's unprotected stomach. She jumped sideways and threw herself onto the ground.
"Geez. You weren't kidding."
"Nope." She took a couple more shots, until her anger began to fade away. "Your turn."
As she turned around, she noticed a familiar red head about forty feet away from her. "Dylan?" she murmured.
"What?"
"Nothing, Belle. Nothing." She continued staring. Dylan was clearly holding hands with Kemp. His raven hair gleamed in the high sun. "Ehmagawd."
"What? What are you not telling me?"
"Nothing, Belle. Could you just hold awn for half-a-second?"
"Uh... okay?"
Kristen didn't wait to hear her answer. She stormed toward the mini-golf course.
ORLANDO
HILTON HOTEL
11:41 AM
JULY 4, 2013
Claire flopped down on the thick matress and let herself relax. Her eyes began to water.
"Claire? We're leaving!" Judi emerged from the en-suite bathroom, applying her mascara with one last swipe. "Are you sure you want to stay here all day? It's so nice out. And you're wasting valuable time. In only a few short weeks, we're driving back to Westchester."
"I'm sure."
"Don't try to leave without us. Don't take Daddy's iPad or my Kindle; they're locked in the safe. You're really just going to stay here and do nothing. Are you sure?"
"Yes!"
"Okay..." Judi began to walk out.
Claire stood. "And by the way, it is totally unfair that you're just going to leave me here with nothing to do. I stay here awl day awl alone cuz I don't feel good, and in turn, you ditch me to go to an amusement park and give me only one crappy summer reading book for the whole day? What do you expect me to do?!"
"If you really don't feel good, you should sleep."
"I don't want to sleep!" she screeched. "I want something to do!"
"Then I don't believe you're sick. I think you're just upset because of whatever happened with Sari."
"You know what you need to do?" Jay popped his head back inside. "Build a bridge and get over it." He beamed.
"Shut up." Claire buried her face in the pillow and screwed her eyes shut.
"Bye!" Todd crowed, pulling Judi and Jay from the room.
"Be back by five!" Claire hollered after them, scowling. The second she heard the lock click, she dragged herself over toward the safe and ran through four-letter number combinations she knew her parents used. 0913 (September 13, the day Judi was born), 1129 (November 29, the day Jay was born), 0108 (January 8, the day her paternal grandmother, Jay's mother, had passed away)...
The door opened.
Claire flung herself back into bed and tried to assume a casual position. "Forget my fanny pack," Judi explained cheerily as she reached for it. "Are you sure you don't want to come? Last chance!"
"Yes," she insisted. "Good-bye."
WESTCHESTER SPORTS COMPLEX
MINI-GOLF COURSE
11:43 AM
JULY 4, 2013
It took Kristen ages to approach Dylan and Kemp because there were clear sings stating that she'd better not, under any circumstances excluding fires and necessary evacuations, step on the freshly mowed grass. So she walked around the long way, her steps becoming stomps as she went. By the time she was in front of the two, she felt like she should be breathing fire.
She pasted a sickly-sweet smile on her face, but her eyes were unforgiving. "Hello," she simpered.
"Um, hi." Dylan's forehead crinkled.
"Hey." Kemp sounded surprisingly enthusiastic. When he noticed Dylan's confused glance, he quickly amended it. Narrowing his eyes, he added, "What are you doing here? Did you follow us?"
"Uh, no. Why would I do that? I was here with Belle." She pointed and waved her arms at Belle, who cocked her head, but waved back.
"Gotcha." Dylan nodded. "Well, have fun! Come awn, Kemp!" She shot Kristen an apologetic glance over her shoulder.
She couldn't take it anymore. "You bitch! You took Kemp! You knew I wanted Kemp and you took him!"
"You said it was okay!" Dylan breathed, widening her eyes in shock. Why was this happening? She'd be nice enough to tell Kristen everything, ask her for approval, and even gave her room to say no. And after all that, why was she being attacked? Especially in front of Kemp. What kind of friend was Kristen?
"I-I..." Dylan's accusation was true; that was the worst part, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. "You fat, insecure bitch! The only reason Massie wanted to be friends with you, the only reason Kemp wanted to go out with you, was cuz of The Daily Grind. That's awl!" She knew exactly what to say to hurt the Gamma most.
"But you never said you wanted him! Well, I mean, you did, but you told me it was okay!"
A moment of weakness was what Kristen had been waiting for. "Move out to California, for awl I care. But stay away from me!"
Kemp jumped in between the two, and both their arms lowered. Their fighting stances dropped for a temporary truce.
"Girls," he began, trying to sound chivalrous. "I hate to say this," he looked at Dylan, "but I have to side with Kristen for this one." He put a sweaty arm around her shoulders. "The only reason I ever went out with you is because of the Daily Grind." He tilted his head toward Kristen. "She's who I wanted from the beginning, and now that I know she wanted me back..." He smirked, his long-lashed eyes glimmering.
"You jerk!" Dylan screamed, running away as fast as she could.
"And proud of it!" he hollered gleefully after her.
Kristen let out a few giggles, partly amusement, but mostly relief. She'd won. And she had Kemp.
YES, I POSTED THIS SEPTEMBER 12, BUT IF YOU ARE AMERICAN, DON'T FORGET TO TAKE A MOMENT OF PRAYER FOR 9/11.