I hate myself for never being active anymore. I'm so sorry guys I've just been incredibly busy.—A/N.
Seeing Massie with all those giggling girls surrounding her was the last straw for me. "Alicia," I practically shouted, "hold my stuff!" I shoved my purse and jacket into Alicia's arms forcefully and stormed over to where Massie was.
"Massie, what the heck do you think you're doing?!" I screamed at the former alpha. She just batted her eyes innocently and stared at me. "What do you mean by that, Miley?" she spat. "Puh-lease, I can totally see you over there trying to be me. You're the worst wannabe out of all of them. Unlike Alicia, who tried to start over with a new PC, you're so desperate you have to steal one. FYI, Stewart, you're just a wannabe. Oh, and I think you've forgotten one, tiny detail…"
"And what's that?" I snarled, rolling my eyes. Massie had to have been stalling. There's no way she had anything she could use against me. "I know your precious little secret," Massie hissed into my ear. I backed away, forgetting that little detail almost completely. Massie knew I was Hannah. Massie hated me. Massie could tell the entire world with all of her connections. Oh, yeah, I'm doomed. But all of my pent-up rage and fury wasn't finished.
"Massie," I panted through deep, trying breaths, "Go DIE!!" Okay, so maybe that wasn't the most professional, mature thing to say, but what I did afterwards wasn't even close to the most professional, mature thing to do. I pounced on Massie—literally. Before I knew it I was on top of her, pulling at her extensions, fighting for total domination. But, as I suspected, Massie Block didn't give up without a fight. She fought back, bashing and pounding every available part of me she could. I think she gave me a black eye somewhere in our little "argument." It was literally a clawing, punching, bashing mess.
"MISS STEWART! MISS BLOCK!" screeched an obnoxious voice above our little fight. "Get up off of each other this instant." The owner of the voice pried us apart angrily. It was the principal. "That is not at all how young ladies should compose themselves. I am ashamed of you. Please follow me to the office so I can phone your parents immediately. You will wait in the detention room together until I can reach your parents. Thank you."
She led us into the building and pointed to an enclosed, vacant room. "Wait there," she growled. "And don't come out till I fetch you." Massie and I reluctantly entered the room together. For the first five minutes, everything was totally silent. Massie played with her hair, checking for split ends (which was stupid; they were extensions…I think she was just trying to avoid from talking to me). I played with my fingers, thinking about all the possible escapes from this horrible situation, but I couldn't actually come up with any.
"Massie," I said slowly, looking over to the alpha. Massie unwillingly looked up and stared at me. I could see her fiery amber eyes filled with extreme hurt for the first (or maybe second; at the concert she looked really bad, too) time ever. Seeing her so vulnerable was sort of awkward and off-putting.
"Listen, we need to stop," I plowed on bravely. "This has gone way too far. We're better than this. We don't need to attack each other like that. I don't get what happened. We were really good friends at first, weren't we? I don't get what happened."
"Jealousy," murmured Massie under her breath. I stared at her uncertainly. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you. Can you repeat that?" Massie took a deep, strong breath and repeated, "Jealousy. That's what happened. I was jealous of you. Here you were, a super pretty girl with basically everything (including a secret so big it would cause Ryan Seacrest to have a heart attack). I mean, as I just said, I even found out that you were Hannah Montana. Are Hannah Montana. Not only are you gorgeous, rich, popular, likeable, but you're even a megastar. I could never compete with that, so I thought, 'Why compete when you can just knock her out of the game?' And I guess that's what I tried to do…"
I gawked at her. Was thee Massie Block (PC-alpha, popular, pretty Massie Block) succumbing to me (gawky, dorky, weird Miley Stewart)? Maybe I hadn't understood anything she just said. Maybe I just heard what I wanted to hear…but Massie's expression definitely suggested that what I thought was true.
"Massie, I was jealous of you," I admitted hesitantly. "Who isn't? Everybody wants to be the popular, rich, gorgeous, cool, ah-mazing Massie Block. My secret probably makes me more of a loser, anyways, because I basically can never hang out with my friends due to stupid concerts. I hate my life. I'd do anything for yours."
"Ha-ha," Massie laughed, like I don't believe you. "Hannah Montana's alter-identity wants to be me? I'm flattered, yet totally unconvinced. Hello, earth to Miley, you have everything you want handed to you on a silver platter…I'd do anything for your life."
"Well, I guess neither of us are gonna be happy then," I said solemnly. "Since we're both stuck as ourselves." I looked up at Massie, where I noticed a trace of a smile dancing across her face. Suddenly, both of our almost non-existent smiles transformed into full-blown grins, and then, all of the sudden, we were both doubled over laughing. Tears streamed down our faces, smudging our makeup, but neither of us cared. We laughed and cried until we couldn't any more.
"Massie, you are truly the most ah-mazing person I've ever met," I told Massie honestly, smiling at her. "You're definitely alpha material. I don't get why I ever tried to take it away from you. It's really hard trying to run a bunch of girls." I giggled and smiled at her compassionately. Massie got up from her chair and outstretched her arms, asking for a hug.
We hugged for just a moment, and then she pulled away. We started chatting for a bit just like old friends until Principal Burns returned. "Girls," she said, "you're off with a warning this time, but next time I see you two doing anything against the rules, you will be in extreme trouble, you hear me?"
We both nodded eagerly. Massie grabbed my hand. "Miley," she said deviously, "let's go break some hearts."