disclaimer: characters belong to lisi harrison, i own nothing except the plot.
Rosehill Academy, the sign read.
It was a deep shade of emerald interwoven with gold, words carved into the marble and designed to look like it had been engraved with diamonds. The front lawn was expansive and immaculate, its neatly trimmed hedges and trees standing tall in the full flush of summer as the season would be quickly dwindling within the next few weeks. Taking it all in as she slowly made her way up toward the stately main building, Massie Block found it hard to believe this was where she'd be spending her senior year of high school—her Louboutin heels clicked against the steps, her eyes flickering over the Corinthian columns and briefly wandered if she had somehow accidentally enrolled in an art school and she was really going to be attending classes in some kind of museum. She admired the way the sunlight reflected off the smooth sand-colored stone like it had been polished to perfection at the end of Summer Break. As far as she was concerned, everyone else was already in Dalton Hall's theater, where the administrators held an assembly at the beginning of every school year before releasing the flood of students to the adjoining 'Welcome Back' breakfast in the cafeteria.
She was a little nervous, to say the least, as a security guard opened the door for her and pointed her in the direction of Dalton Hall. She hadn't anticipated being late on her first day at a new school, but she couldn't remember the last time she was able to wear whatever she wanted during the week—back in the day she'd gone to a 'uniform' school—so picking out the perfect outfit had become the biggest stressor of her day (so far) before finally decided to play it safe with an oatmeal-colored Treasure & Bond ribbed tank top, a black mélange-knit NIC+ZOE cardigan, and light-wash Wit & Wisdom high-waisted skinny jeans to be paired with her classy Louboutin stilettos. Her chestnut hair was tousled in a loose beach wave with wisps of hair falling into her kohl-lined amber eyes, and her naturally long lashes looked bold and full thanks to the Fenty mascara she'd applied before getting dropped off.
She paused just outside the auditorium, fingers brushing over the scrolled handle as she listened to the Headmistress's muffled voice on the other side, and with bated breath she pumped open the embossed double doors, stepped inside with the doors unceremoniously slamming shut behind her. The Headmistress cut herself off, and even from this far back in the assembly hall Massie could feel her staring directly at her for those few brief milliseconds before resuming her speech as if the interruption never happened. It didn't look as if anybody had turned in their seats to see who'd decided to show up fashionably late to the assembly, and Massie was kind of grateful she was able to slip into one of the seats in the back row unnoticed by her peers. She'd also managed to come at the tail end of the Headmistress's speech before it segued into a round of smaller lectures given by some of the other faculty members. An incessant ramble from each administrator, leading all the way up to a friendly reminder about the senior class's formal before Christmas Break that all graduating students will be receiving their slips later that day and all necessary paperwork needs to be handed in by the end of the week.
Massie was more than relieved to be exiting the assembly hall once the Headmistress dismissed everyone for the Welcome Back breakfast. She hung back, though normally she'd be the first one out, considering she had absolutely no idea where she was headed—she trailed after the stream of students filing out of the auditorium toward the cafeteria, which didn't turn out to be a very far walk.
Her eyes widened in awe as she followed the crowd inside; it felt as though she were standing in a massive, sun-drenched greenhouse rather than a school's cafeteria. The far wall was made of glass and the room's perimeter was lined with mini vegetable gardens framed by low white picket fences. The gardens sprouted ripe red tomatoes, carrots, scallions, and fresh herbs. In the corner by the register, where the lunch line ended, there was an old-fashioned stagecoach stocked with a variety of waters (including vitamin water), energy drinks, milks, and drinkable low-fat yogurts. Quaint country chalkboard signs listed the day's fresh produce and the breakfast specials, lunch specials, and desserts. There weren't any steel bars or plastic trays in sight. It was a fabulously adorable eco-friendly farmer's market gone twenty-first century—the only thing remotely close to shattering this illusion was the sushi bar next to the do-it-yourself salad station—and Massie legitimately liked it.
She discreetly scanned the rows of bamboo tables whilst offering her best model stare, unsure, but kept her feet moving. From the looks of it each group of students seated at the artisan crafted table was more exclusive than the last. However, it was the three girls seated by the window, their table offering the perfect view to overlook the entire cafeteria, that caught Massie's attention. She swallowed thickly, steering herself to walking directly towards that table, fully aware of all eyes on her as she boldly made the move to approach them. Among the mindless surrounding chatter, it was the jingling of her gold charm bracelet that she paid attention to, focusing on the tinny sound of her charms clanging together in perfect rhythm with every step she took.
The closer she got; the more nervous Massie felt. Though, she refused to show it.
But before she reached her destination, a hand caught her by the elbow, stopping her so abruptly in her path that she nearly tripped over her own two feet—and in stilettos, that would not have been a pretty sight—as they gently whirled her around, so she was facing a tall boy with short and messy dirty-blonde hair and mischievous brown eyes.
"I wouldn't go over there if I were you."
"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, her gaze lowering ever so slightly to take in all of his entirety; he wore a gray shirt with three useless buttons along the V neckline, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and black jeans with a rip above his left knee. She noticed the string of black beads and a nylon rope around his neck but was more fascinated by the black stone carved to resemble a shark tooth pressed into the hollow of his throat.
"You'd fare better sitting with us," He insisted, though not unkindly. Massie realized his hand was still cradling her elbow and she quickly shook him off, her gaze drifting past him towards the group of guys and girls surrounding the table—there were two guys and two girls seated behind him. Her addition would round out the table, she did like when things were evenly balanced, but she also wasn't about to let this stranger try to sway her.
"I'll take my chances." She smiled, a polite little thing that didn't show any teeth, and made the mistake of locking eyes with him for a second too long. She turned on her heel, click-clacking right on over toward the threesome in the back of the cafeteria without so much as a backwards glance.
She barely made it into their vicinity before the leader of the group, a raven-haired beauty dressed head-to-toe in Ralph Lauren, was leaning forward to have her elbows propped against the table. Her eyes honed on Massie, a sly smile forming on her ruby-red lips.
"You know, not many people would have the balls to try to score an invite to our lunch table," she said, and it surprised Massie that while she had the looks of somebody who was born and bred in Barcelona (probably) this girl didn't speak with a hint of a Spanish accent.
"I'm not like most people," Massie answered, mentally berating herself for sounding so cliché, as she briefly eyed the sole empty seat. What better way to show she means business? She thought to herself, lowering down onto the bamboo stool before she could talk herself out of it.
The Latina raised an eyebrow, though she gave off no emotion—was she impressed or appalled by her bold move?
"What's your name?" The redhead to her right asked, she was waving around a celery stick in the air that she had dipped in ranch dressing.
"Massie Block."
"Well, Massie Block—"
"What did Derrick Harrington want from you?" The redhaired girl cut in before her dark-haired friend could finish her sentence.
Massie's eyebrows knit together, curious. She had to think about who she might be talking about, then remembered the blonde-haired guy that tried to stop her from coming over to this table. Would they be offended if she told them? "He wanted to introduce himself, I guess." She lied with a half-hearted shrug; despite the fact she hadn't known his name until that very moment.
The satisfying crunch between the redhead's teeth as she bit down on the celery stick filled the awkward silence that followed; it was clear that the other girl didn't quite believe her.
"I'm Kristen, by the way," the girl with dirty-blonde hair on the other side of the table said. "I'm actually glad you came over here, I'm supposed to give you the tour of the school after the 'Welcome Back' breakfast."
"Hi, Kristen," Massie said, her cheerful tone forced and sounding hollow to her own ears.
"This is Alicia," she bumped her shoulder against the girl in the middle's, who was glaring at Massie for some reason, "and Dylan," she gestured toward the redhead.
"Hi," all three girls said in unison.
"You're new, right? Where are you from?" Alicia wondered; she started pushing her scrambled eggs around on the plate.
"California." Massie answered tersely.
"That must've been fun," Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Did you meet anyone famous?"
The brunette laughed softly, shrugging with almost modesty, then said, "A few times."
"Dylan's our resident Celeb," Alicia pointed out, "in case you didn't already know."
"I thought you looked familiar," Massie partially lied.
"My mom's Merri-Lee Marvil," Dylan offered.
"Oh yeah,"
.
Halfway through the 'Welcome Back' breakfast, Massie rose out of her chair—interrupting whatever Alicia had been talking about—with the legs scraping loudly against the floor when she pushed herself away from the table. She grabbed her tray, the buttermilk pancakes and Eggs Benedict scarcely eaten, and dumped it in the nearest trashcan. In a matter of minutes, she learned all she needed to about these three girls; their clique was called the Pretty Committee and Alicia deemed their alpha, though she lacked the personality for it, one-hundred-and-ten percent. Massie got the feeling they weren't actually friends; it was more about convenience. Alicia kept getting combative with Massie, though she did have an inkling as to why, and was glaring at Massie for the last fifteen minutes, not bothering to hide her distaste for the girl, but what could she have possibly done to deserve the withering looks?
"Where are you going?" Kristen asked.
Rather than coming up with a blatant lie, seeing as she had absolutely no idea, all Massie said was, "I'll find you," referring to her tour of the school after the 'Welcome Back' breakfast, before exiting the cafeteria.
It never happened, of course.
Whether it was intentional or an accident, Massie didn't really care. She had spent those ten-fifteen minutes wandering the halls on her own, admiring the halls of her new school (crisscross black-and-white marble tile flooring infused with ribbons of gold, heather gray walls painted to look like bricks, the lockers were the same emerald green as the sign out front) as she instead tried to locate the administrator's office to get a hold of her class schedule and locker assignment. It hadn't taken her long, thanks to the map of the campus posted by Dalton Hall, and was thanking the secretary with three minutes to spare so she could navigate the halls without getting ambushed in the sea of her new classmates.
The bell rang to signal a five-minute warning for all students to get to their first period class, and Massie wasn't anywhere near her Creative Writing class. According to the map, all classes for English and Social Studies were in Harrison Hall, a.k.a. building 3 of the massive campus, with the nurse's office for students whose last names began with L-Z. She would find her Statistics class in building 2, Craven Hall, with all the other math and science classes, as well as the nurse's office for students with last names that started with A-K. Dalton Hall housed Foreign Languages, the administration offices, the auditorium, the cafeteria, and two gymnasiums. All three buildings consisted of a number of electives to help with filling schedules.
Upon entering her first class of the day with, like, forty-five seconds to spare, Massie immediately claimed a seat in the back row, dropping her black YSL quilted leather bag at her feet. She saw a few familiar faces in her class, Dylan Marvil being one of them, strolling in right before the teacher arrived, and a blonde girl that was sitting at Derrick Harrington's table was two rows up, talking to a girl with dyed jet-black hair that had a few random streaks of pink peeking through. To her surprise, Dylan Marvil took an empty seat beside her.
"You're in my seat," Dylan drawled quietly, taking out her composition notebook and a pen from her Michael Kors bag.
"I don't see your name on it," Massie replied, staring straight ahead. It was a fucking seat, and she's still in the back row, so was it really a necessity to comment on it?
"Have you talked to Derrick?" She instead asked, dragging the tip of her pen across the page to make it seem like she was writing down whatever their teacher was saying.
"Oh yeah, we're best friends now, didn't you hear?" Massie mumbled sarcastically, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.
"Derrick doesn't have friends," Dylan snapped. The undertone of her true meaning wasn't lost on Massie and, clearly, she wasn't one for jokes when it came to this boy.
"Caught me, we have plans to hook up in a janitor's closet during lunch." Massie couldn't help it, she was enjoying getting a rise out of Dylan Marvil—it was apparent in the splash of pink on her pale cheeks, stretching across the bridge of her freckly nose, and the tightness in the set of her jaw. But then she noticed that Dylan was gripping her pen a little too hard, and she wondered fleetingly if her reputation for being abrasive and aggressive preceded her. Was she really going to stab me with that pen over a guy? "Relax, I'm kidding." She sighed, hardly believing this girl was so bent out of shape after a 2.5 second conversation she had with Derrick at the 'Welcome Back' breakfast.
Luckily, the conversation was dropped, and Dylan did, in fact, relax. Massie couldn't believe she was so close to being on the receiving end of potentially being assaulted by Merri-Lee Marvil's daughter with a freaking pen because he talked to her. And they weren't even dating! Were they? And even then . . . She suddenly wished she were closer to that blonde girl and made a mental note to catch up with her after class. She spent the remainder of the class copying down the notes written on the dry-erase board, a basic outline of what is going to be covered for this semester, and their first assignment was to create a short story (genre of their choice) that can't go over 5,000 words, and it needed to be submitted by 11:59 p.m. (that night) via the school's portal.
When the bell rang, Massie was shoving her things into her bag, and (casually) rushing to catch up with the blonde girl down the hallway—boy, was she a quick little thing. Her hand brushed over the back of the blonde's denim jacket, fingers curling around the rough fabric and gently tugging to get her attention.
"Wha—? Oh, hey," The blonde partially turned her head to see who'd grabbed her jacket, and half-smiled (out of politeness?) when she saw that it was Massie, even though they'd never been introduced or interacted.
"Hi," Massie looped around to walking next to her.
"You're Massie Block, right?" The blonde inquired.
"Yeah..."
"It's been a while since we got a new student," The blonde offered shyly upon seeing Massie's confused expression, obviously wondering (did she seem a little nervous?) how this girl knew her name. "I'm Claire, by the way."
"Mind if I walk with you?" Massie wondered. "And maybe you can point me in the right direction? I have my Statistics class next."
"Sure, I have Marine Biology, I'm headed there, anyway." Claire said.
They walked together towards Craven Hall in amicable silence, but Massie had sought this girl out for a reason, and it was time to get the information she needed.
Massie squinted, staring at her long and hard, as if trying to recall where she may know her from, then casually asked, "Didn't I see you this morning at Derrick Harrington's table?"
Claire laughed under her breath. "Yeah, you did."
"You wouldn't happen to know what Dylan Marvil's deal is, would you?" She asked, her tone innocent. "She asked me if I talked to your friend Derrick and got all weird." By weird I mean she was probably planning on stabbing her pen through my hand or something equally non-lethal, Massie added to herself silently.
"Ah," Claire cleared her throat, brushing her too-long blonde bangs out of her face and tucking them behind her ear. "That's a whole New York Times Best Seller in waiting, right there."
"Meaning...?"
"Their families are super close, and they dated for, like, two months during freshman year but that's when her mom's show took off and Derrick didn't want to be put in the spotlight, so he ended things." Claire supplied, though it didn't explain her . . . possessiveness . . . towards Derrick.
"I thought she didn't date?" Massie raised an eyebrow.
"She doesn't, not really. But she does like to get in Derrick's bed, and Kemp Hurley's, and Chris Plovert's, and pretty much every other guy in our grade's." Claire rattled on. "Him and Dylan are way too similar, which is why I think they really didn't last, because neither of them are meant to be tied down. She's his favorite,"—Claire rolled her eyes at that— "but he also says that about this girl named Skye Hamilton, so who knows, really."
"Dylan mentioned that he doesn't have friends," Massie absently blurted out.
"Mmm, she's right, for the most part." Claire answered. Much to Massie's dismay, before Claire could finish what she was saying, they were now standing in front of her Statistics class, and it was time for the two girls to part ways. But right before Massie went inside Claire surprised her by inviting her to sit at their table during lunch. "I'm sure it'll be worth it," the blonde promised before trekking down the hall to her Marine Biology class.
.
Fifth period lunch, it came all too quickly.
Massie noticed several familiar faces throughout her morning classes, being the unlucky recipient to having Alicia Rivera and Dylan Marvil in her third period fashion design class, and Alicia didn't bother being quiet whilst making rude remarks about her to Dylan. Kristen was in her fourth period Participation in Government class, along with Derrick Harrington and one of his other friends she noticed had been at his table during the 'Welcome Back' breakfast. How she managed to have Derrick Harrington escort her to the cafeteria was beyond her, when they hadn't spoken during the entire class. She didn't believe in coincidences, that he just so happened to be walking directly behind her as they were leaving when he sat in front of her during class, while his friend was already long gone.
"So, Massie Block," Derrick had started to say, "What brings you to the good ol' WC?"
"Witness Protection," she answered with the tiniest smirk.
An eyebrow raised at that. "Don't tell me, your family's got ties to the Mafia."
"If I told you, you might end up dead." She teased.
"We can't have that, now, can we?" He responded back, his tone lilting towards flirtatious. "You're from California, right?"
"Word travels fast." She said, though not exactly the answer he'd been expecting.
"Did you leave anyone behind in California?" He wondered, full of innocence, but Massie knew his question was far from anything remotely innocent.
"No," She laughed a little. "I didn't."
"So, then, you're free tonight, maybe?" Derrick grinned like the Cheshire cat.
"Nah."
And with that, she walked ahead of him, following the stream of students toward the cafeteria.
She saw Claire as soon as she entered the cafeteria, offering a little wave when they made eye contact. She was already sitting with the two boys from before, and Massie noticed the girl she'd been talking to during first period was the other girl at the table. She got her lunch (a low-fat raspberry yogurt, Cesar salad, and grilled chicken strips marinated with a balsamic glaze) and took an empty seat next to Claire.
"Hey," Claire greeted cheerfully. "Massie, this is my boyfriend Cam," she pointed to the guy across the table from her, he had dark hair the color of freshly brewed coffee and his eyes were two different colors; one was green and the other was blue. "And that's Josh." The boy in question, with his tan skin, dark brown hair that's somehow shaggy and spiky, sharp facial features, reminded her of a weird combination of Taylor Lautner and Josh Hartnett. "This is my best friend, Layne." She gestured with her shoulder towards the other girl.
Massie noticed that Derrick still hadn't made his way into the cafeteria but decided not to voice her (slight) concern.
She spent the majority of the lunch period talking to Claire and Layne, occasionally glancing over towards the cafeteria doors, but feeling this weird sense of relief that she wouldn't be subjected to death glares from across the room because she chose to sit with Derrick and his friends. By the end of the period, he still hadn't shown, but she did manage to get Claire's number—and Layne's, by proxy. Claire kissed her boyfriend goodbye, she was headed to French class with Massie, while he had sixth period on the other side of the school. Out the corner of her eye she spotted Josh heading away from the doors to meet Alicia Rivera halfway, so they could walk out together. Huh. It clicked instantly that Josh was her boyfriend, but she didn't understand why they weren't sitting together.
"Alicia doesn't want Derrick sitting at their table," Claire stage-whispered when they were halfway down the hall, as if reading Massie's thoughts while they headed toward French. "And she doesn't like me, but Derrick and Cam are a package deal."
"She just automatically assumes—"
The short walk from the cafeteria to the Foreign Languages wing had their conversation interrupted, they were entering F-13 for their French class, and right away Massie spotted Derrick in the middle row, atop his desk, talking with a blonde girl. His back was to her, and she only got the blonde's side profile, but Massie strolled beside Claire to find her seat, casually brushing her arm against him as she rounded to plop down in the desk directly behind him. He didn't say anything, keeping his attention towards the blonde girl. In her seat, she now had a better view of this girl; she had icy blue 'doe' eyes, and an Ashlee Simpson nose job, her white-blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders in loose ringlets. She wore a white short-sleeved sweaterdress that made her tanned skin pop.
Claire sat to the right of Massie, and to Massie's dismay, Dylan Marvil was one row up, diagonal to her left, in the seat beside Derrick. What are the odds? She rolled her eyes. At least she wouldn't be subjected to the daggers, that was now reserved for the pretty blonde girl in front of him—despite the fact not once did he engage in conversation with her during the entire class. Did Dylan automatically hate every girl that came within 2 centimeters of Derrick? Massie couldn't understand this dynamic even if she tried.
.
By the time the dismissal bell rang, Massie had wrangled in a few new friends, and exchanged numbers. It was almost cultivating the way these girls wanted to get to know her but not a single detail about Massie's life prior to coming to Westchester had been shared, rather Massie quickly spun it to seem fascinated with their lives, and all of them thrived on gossiping, their range going from the elusive Pretty Committee members to the teachers in their school to the boys on the soccer team (Derrick Harrington, included). She learned that Alicia's father is renowned criminal defense lawyer, Len Rivera, and her mom is an immigrant from Spain and former model. She was dating Josh Hotz, they'd been together since seventh grade, but Massie sensed there was more to the story. Dylan, as forementioned, is the youngest daughter to Merri-Lee, her older sisters are twins named Jaime and Ryan, and their television show was cancelled last year due to irreconcilable differences between Merri-Lee and the producers (what was this, a divorce?). Dylan didn't have an exclusive significant other, but a string of boys at her beck and call—including Derrick Harrington, which explained why she was so sharp towards Massie, except . . . did it really? Kristen's dad was an art dealer who was almost never home, and her mother was a nurse at the local hospital, but she seemed to have an all-around happier aura than her two 'friends' despite just having broken up with her older boyfriend, Dempsey Soloman, for the umpteenth time because she didn't think she could handle a long-distance relationship now that he was in his first year of college.
The blonde girl from French was named Olivia Ryan, she used to be friends with Alicia during seventh and eighth grade, but they had a huge falling out—details to come—and she introduced Massie to a girl named Coral McAdams, who was nicknamed 'Strawberry' because she had dyed her hair a bright syrup-y shade of pink back in the day, but now it was done professionally and, thankfully, not such a hideous color. She also met a few other girls whose names she immediately forgot, just that one of them had recently chopped off her butt-length light auburn hair.
Massie was walking down the front steps, bag swinging from the crook of her elbow, and her eyes straight ahead in a vacant model-like stare, when she spotted that familiar head of dirty blonde hair loitering down by the curb in the exact same spot where—
"Why is my driver leaving?" Massie screeched, her pace quickening, her amber eyes trailing after the sleek black Range Rover pulling away from the curb and merging into the lane that led out of the school grounds.
"Your mom had an emergency," Derrick Harrington said breezily, the twinkle in his brown eyes a tell-tale sign that he was so obviously lying to her. Even if he didn't fully realize it (yet) "So, me, being the Good Samaritan that I am, offered to be the one to drive you home."
Massie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'd rather walk."
"You'd get lost." Derrick pointed out, "You're new in town, what better way to familiarize yourself than be shown around by yours truly?"
She hated the way his eyebrow raised, couldn't stand the tiny little twitch at the corner of his mouth, and wanted to punch him in his perfect teeth for looking so puppy-like in his eagerness to get her to accompany him.
"I have GPS on my phone," She shimmied her iPhone 14 free from her bag and waved it around. "But thank you for the offer."
"Nah." There was a full-blown smirk on his face now, and this time she did roll her eyes.
"What's your little girlfriend going to think?" She snapped, though not unkindly.
"Which one?" He rebuffed playfully, resulting in Massie smacking her hand against his bicep, and he quickly added on, "If I actually had one? She'd probably be pissed. But it's a good thing I don't."
"You're annoying," she told him honestly.
"Right this way," Derrick's fingers wrapped around her wrist to gently pulling her along, and she found no point in resisting at this point since she really didn't feel like walking all the way home. Massie bit down softly at her lower lip as she followed him to the student parking lot. Neither of them said anything, and Derrick never let up on her wrist, which she didn't want to admit warmed beneath his fingertips as he lightly pressed the pads of his fingers into a pressure point. Her pulse quickened; she wondered if he could feel it.
She was reluctant to get into the EQE 350+ Mercedes Benz sedan, but again, what was the point in trying to find a way out of it? Her driver was gone. And Derrick seemed very intent on spending time with her after school. But why?
"I'm not going to murder you," Derrick insisted with a playful grin.
"That's not what I was worried about!" She shrieked, her eyes widen in faux panic, her fingers hovering over the handle to the car door. And then her expression grew solemn, an eyebrow raising conspiratorially. "But how do you know that's not what I have planned?"
"Worth the risk, Block." He laughed; it was a deep soprano, a humbling sound that made her fight the creeping smile on her face as she opened the door and lowered herself into the passenger seat.
It was silent, save for the early 2000's pop punk music crooning from the speakers, as they exited the student parking lot and pulled onto the main road. Massie stared out the window, clutching her bag on her lap as if it were a life preserver, while Derrick followed the winding roads—it also occurred to her that she hadn't given him an address, so where did he plan on taking them?
"Uh, Derrick," She spoke up, ready to voice her concerns.
"Nuh-uh," He shook his head, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. "I never said I was taking you home," he pointed out around a cheeky smile.
"If I recall, I told you I wasn't free tonight." Massie countered.
"Yeah, tonight. You didn't say anything about right after school."
"But I—"
"Nah." He cut her off, smirking once more.
"I hate you." She told him, though did she really mean it? Probably not. It was too early to tell.
"We'll see," he answered, as if ready to call her bullshit at a moment's notice.
.
A few hours later, Derrick was guiding the car up a long U-shaped driveway, the gravel crunching beneath the slow-rolling tires until he was parking behind the Range Rover. She hooked her bag over her arm, pushing the door open and climbing out of the car without so much as a backward glance towards Derrick.
"Thanks for the ride," she muttered stiffly, though her heart was pounding erratically inside of her chest.
"Any time, Block." He mused after her, just as she slammed the door closed behind her.
She marched up the stone steps hurriedly, pausing at the door to rummage around in her purse for the newly made up housekey she'd been given earlier that morning. She listened to the low humming of the car as it idled just a few feet away, sliding the key through and unlocking the door. It wasn't until she was safely on the other side, the front door now a barrier between them, that she finally heard the Mercedes Benz backing down the mile-long driveway and reversing out onto the street. She exhaled loudly; she hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath.
"Everything alright, Miss Block?" An accented voice inquired.
Massie turned to see her family's live-in housekeeper, who'd been bustling through the foyer towards the kitchen, with a humble smile on her face. "What's for dinner?" She asked instead, dropping her bag onto the round marble end table beside her after removing her phone from the confines of her YSL, her housekey getting tossed into the porcelain dish next to it.
"Chicken parmigiana," Inez said. "Your favorite, to celebrate your first day back to school."
"Cool," Massie replied with a smile.
"Your father will call you down when dinner's ready," Inez said, disappearing into the kitchen.
Massie kicked off her shoes, tucking them in the wooden crate beneath the end table, and padded barefoot up to the second floor, clutching her phone in hand. She made it all the way to her bedroom, gently closing the door after her, when her phone chimed with the promise of a new text. She glanced down at her home screen.
(1) New Message
Maybe: Derrick Harrington
How strange. They hadn't gotten around to exchanging phone numbers. It didn't stop her from feeling excited, however, not that she would ever admit that—
Maybe: Derrick Harrington: lets do this again sometime
She rolled her eyes, composing a reply without a real thought, those pesky three little letters, and pressed send with the hint of a smirk.
Massie Block: nah
dharrington requested to follow you [Twitter]
derrharrington requested to follow you [Instagram]
dharrington has added you on Snapchat!
Derrick Harrington added you as a friend [Facebook]
This boy really is persistent, Massie thought to herself, and giggled as she took a screenshot of the pending notifications and immediately texted it to Claire.
Massie Block: Attachment: 1 Photo
Massie Block: should i be flattered lol
Massie Block: also did u give him my number
A reply came instantly.
Claire Lyons: yes on 2 accounts lmao sry
Then a second text message awaited, though not from Claire, or even Derrick, for that matter. Two more immediately rolled in.
Maybe: Alicia Rivera: u should know better
Maybe: Alicia Rivera: what gets around faster? rosehill gossip or u
Maybe: Dylan Marvil: Attachment: 1 Video
The phone slipped out of Massie's hand; she barely had pressed play on the video that Dylan had forwarded to her as if on command. Her iPhone landed face down on the shag white rug beneath her feet, just barely making out the muffled sounds she had made no less than an hour and a half ago. Her very distinct laugh, loud and staccato. There were a few beats of silence before she heard it, the breathy sighs escaping her, Derrick's name wrapping around her tongue as she let out a soft moan. Instinctively, she kicked her phone away, watching as it slid under her bed—her stomach clenched with anxiety at the realization; her skin suddenly felt hot and itchy and her fingers twitching at her sides.
Derrick had set her up.
And now, after being at Rosehill Academy for exactly one day, the entire student body would know what she sounded like while getting teased and played with in the back seat of Derrick Harrington's car.
Massie Block was furious.
author's note: it's me, hi, i'm the problem(atic writer), it's me. this is for anyone who still cares about the clique fandom, i'd also like to share that i posted videos on tiktok of me reviewing the clique movie and sophie anna everhard (actress who played dylan) both liked and commented on both of them :') plus ellen marlow (actress who played claire) and lisi harrison liked one of my comments on instagram.
i nearly went into cardiac arrest BYE-
credit for the cafeteria goes to Bratfest At Tiffany's, i always thought it sounded so cool.
i would also like to give a quick rundown of what this story is going to be about in case it was a little hard to understand in the 6,000+ words i vomited onto this page.
this is an AU, of course, loosely inspired by 'do revenge' on netflix. not entirely sure how just yet
and for the record derrick did not sleep with massie in the backseat of his car, they just fooled around a little.
also, if you were paying attention, it seems that massie has a secret or two... what do you think they could be?