Hey ya'll so I came up with a cool concept of intertwining my own life with the Clique Series. It is going to be very personal for me, and there will be some chapters that will be hard to write since it is all so real. I think it is important to show people, that we all do struggle and it's not always so happy-go-lucky. I hope you all will end up liking it, and if not than I will deal with the criticism that is going to come with this story. This is my full circle of since my other account on here has been here for almost four years now. I truly do hope you can appreciate what I'm doing and how much it takes for me to re-open these old wounds.

Thank you,

Fading Footprints.

P.S. sorry for the long wait for the first chapter.

Have you ever felt as though, you don't belong anywhere? Not even with the people, you call your own friends? I know that I have felt this numerous times in my life, because I've always been a drifter. I have drifted from group to group; never feeling as though I truly belong there. Until I moved to Westchester, New York and weaseled my way into the Pretty Committee.

The Pretty Committee consists of the ring-leader, Massie Block; Beta second command Alicia Rivera; next in line Dylan Marvil; then Kristen Gregory follows in short pursuit; and finally myself who is technically the first beta in command.

Massie Block is the Queen of Westchester with the wave on her freshly manicured hands, she can get whatever she desires. She is the b-i-t-c-h: brunette, independent, troublesome, careless, and of course heart-breaker.

I managed to outsmart Massie Block, and her moron of followers to gain a pathway into their group. Massie was pissed that her friends turned on her, for the new girl. At first Massie, and I weren't good friends at all. It took months for me to gain her trust, and when I did she liked me more than Alicia Rivera her former number beta.

"Claire, hurry up or else you will be late for school...again." My mother hollered up the stairs.

I pulled on my DKNY dark blue skinny jeans (Massie donated them to me), threw on my blue Ella Moss lace long-sleeve over my black Juicy tank-top (Dylan gave them to me). My shoulder-length blonde hair is straight with two french braids tying together in the back held by blonde bobby-pins.

My parents aren't as rich as Massie's or Alicia's or even Dylan's, but they still manage to put a roof over our head and we always have food in the house. We are on the higher end of the middle-class, but to the rest of friends that isn't good enough. The only thing the Pretty Committee cares more about than boys is money, and they will never be in short supply of money.

"Claire, this will be the last and final time I write you note because of tardiness." My mother warned as I hurried out the door and into my car.

Even though she always says it's the "last time" it never truly is, because the last thing my mother wants is an imperfect record on any of her kids. I quickly sped off in my black Grand Prix GT, passing a lot of slow drivers to try to make it on time to school. I hate how the kids at my school automatically are granted a new 2013 car, while I have a handy-down car off the junk lot.

After twenty-minutes, I finally made it to the familiar brick building and park in the back lot of the student parking. I hate going to a school that I don't belong to, but unfortunately for me everyone else thinks I belong because of my status.

"Claire Lyons, well it is a pleasure to see you have finally made it school," Mrs. Block, the principal said as she stopped me in the hallway. Mrs. Block has been our principal since middle school, and the tall, slender, fifty-year old brunette woman has been on my ass about being tardy ever since seventh grade. "Tell your mother if you are late one time, you will be expelled. I'm done with these "dentist" appointments every single morning, and you need to prepare yourself for college."

I nodded my head, and walked on to my first hour as Mrs. Block headed back into her office to deal with the other delinquents. Even though, I am late all the time; I'm no trouble-maker when it comes to some of the students at this school. I don't do drugs, or smoke cigarettes, and I only drink once in awhile not every weekend.

"Ms. Lyons, it is a honor that you could make it your pre-calculus class. Now find your seat, and pay attention." Mr. Juba said as I walked in on his lecture. The short, chubby, grey haired old man is one of the best math teachers I have ever had.

He isn't the best, because he goofs off and makes us all laugh; he is the best because he actually knows how to teach math. I have never been too good with math, but so far I'm getting a B+ in this class and that is the best feeling in the world.

"You see children; the X is on the outside smoking. He's a bad student, and the Y is on the inside learning...good student." Mr. Juba said, as he went on with our notes alternating colored markers as he went.

After finishing our notes, Mr. Juba assigned us 1-100 on page 83 odd numbers only. The class bell rung and we left headed to our second hours. I didn't get too far, before Massie Block pulled me aside to talk.

"Claire, you know that if you are late, you have to tell me." Massie said as we walked up the stairs to the second floor, passing by Sophomores, and Freshmen.

Massie is dressed to the nine or in her case ten; wearing dark washed Michael Kors skinny jeans, a purple Ella Moss button-down Chiffon, and black Gucci high heels. Her hair is of course curled in ringlets with her signature gold hoop earrings dangling from her ears.

"Sorry, I just have been busy lately with a lot on my mind-" I was interrupted by Massie.

"If you are too "busy" for the Pretty Committee then maybe you shouldn't be apart of this group." Massie said coldly, and then with a blink of an eye, she was gone.

Sometimes I wonder why I am friends with people like her, but then I start to think of all the good times we have had and out-weighs the bad. I do however think that the "Pretty Committee" should be re-named the "Pretty Faces", because the bond between us only is as strong as our looks, and money.

This is just the beginning of a rough senior year.

Review it maybe?