Claire sniffed the curiously colored liquid inside the jug Layne was offering her.
"I'm not sure I want to drink that…" Claire muttered.
Layne folded her arms, "Claire, I told you, it's not toxic, flammable or anything. It's just a new drink I invented and I would very much want my bestfriend to tell me if it tastes good."
She pouted and shoved the jug even closer to Claire.
Claire sighed, grabbed the jug, prayed it wouldn't kill her and took a sip.
Her face contorted and her lips formed a tight O. "Layne, what did you put in this?" she panted.
"Lemon, cucumber… uhmmmm… I think I put a little sugar…" Layne said, tapping her head.
"No, I don't think you put enough sugar." Claire breathed.
Layne took out a Luna bar from her blue, transparent, polka-dot handbag.
"Here," she said, handing it to Claire.
Claire took it and bit.
They were seated on the floor in the middle of her new room. Claire, with the help of Massie and Layne, had designed the room and it fit her perfectly.
Shots of her and the PC, her and Layne, her and Cam, and her and her family were tacked to the floor to ceiling blue cork board beside her door.
The curtains, although she opted for blinds before Massie intervened, were Tiffany-box-blue and lace.
Her bed was a modern black cube with a mattress on top, which was framed by a white canopy.
Her favorite part of the room, though, was the black box-shaped shelves, stuck to the wall, which displayed her favorite items: a clear jar of gummy bears, CD's Cam had burned for her, her vintage Polaroid and a small resized poster from her movie Dial L for Loser.
"So, how is the Pretty Committee doing without their precious dictator?" Layne asked, examining her neon green painted finger-nails.
"Well, so far we haven't even been able to approve a single outfit to wear back to school." Claire explained.
"I don't get why you guys fuss so much over clothes. They are just there so that you don't have to walk around naked." Layne twirled a piece of her hair around her finger.
Claire decided not to respond. Layne was the last person you should be discussing fashion problems with. In her opinion, fashion was secondhand men's clothes from the fifties and old concert tees.
Suddenly, there was a loud knocking on the door. Claire's little red-head brother, Todd, barged in.
"Claire, your boyfriend's downstairs and he wants to see you."
Claire's heart did a little dance like it did every time Cam was around.
Layne stood and picked up her bag. "I better go," she said, then gave Claire the callmelaterandtellmewhathappend look.
Downstairs, Cam was seated on the Lyon's freshly unpacked IKEA couch.
Boxes were still scattered around and things were misplaced.
"Hey," Cam stood when he saw Claire.
"Hey," she said shyly.
"Claire, I have something to tell you." Claire looked into his green eye and blue eye.
What do you want to tell me? she thought, That you love me?.
"Cl-Claire, I'm moving." he managed, looking very uncomfortable.
Claire raised her blond brow.
"Where? Down the street?" she asked.
He stepped a little closer, "No. I'm moving to California."
And just like that, Claire's dancing heart fell of the stage.