Main Street
Ben's Ice Cream
Saturday, September 20th
2:01 PM
Dylan had felt like a fifth wheel ever since Claire came into the picture a year ago. It wasn't necessarily her fault, per se, but it was definitely her entrance into their lives that had sent things spiraling downwards into something she didn't think could be salvaged any longer. Before Claire had moved to Westchester their dynamics were simple, straightforward; all four of them were best friends, of course, but Alicia and Massie had gravitated towards one another while she and Kristen had formed a closer bond. Two sets of two—it was easy.
And then it was revealed that Kristen wasn't rich as she'd claimed from the very start, so while they still talked and gossiped and texted pictures of funny things they saw on the day-to-day, sometimes it was awkward for her, because she realized that the things they used to talk about, Kristen had never really been able to relate to. She had just been faking. She wasn't sure if she was more hurt at the fact that Kristen thought her so pretentious that she thought she would've stopped being friends with her once she realized she wasn't in the top 1%, or at the fact that their entire relationship up to that point had been built on a lie. Then Claire joined the Pretty Committee, and since they both came from that same middle class life it made sense that they had bonded, but it made that hurt in her chest bloom even further, from the flickering flame of a candle to a wildfire. Now, it was two sets of two . . . and a lone fifth. It was hard to break into Massie and Alicia's dynamic as it had been cultivated over a year, but it was even harder to relate to Kristen and Claire, so she just hovered along the edge, flitting from place to place.
She would be lying if she said she hadn't been a little bit happy when Claire left their group, even though Massie seemed so broken up over it. She'd never gotten very close to the girl anyway; Claire had stuck mostly to Kristen and Massie so while they were friends in a sense, it was more like they were mutual friends—friends because their friends were friends. With her exit Dylan thought they'd go back to that sixth grade dynamic (those two sets of two) but it seemed impossible. The dynamics had shifted; she and Kristen no longer worked as a set anymore.
She had wondered, laying in that sleeping bag last night with the soft breaths of her sleeping friends around her, if the Pretty Committee would've worked if she had left the group instead of Claire. Just the very thought had made her breath hitch in her throat and she bit down harshly on her knuckles to stop the strangled cry that suddenly wanted to push past her lips. She'd never felt as jealous as she had in that very moment, because suddenly a fierce envy, and an even fiercer anger, grew in the pit of her stomach towards the blonde Floridian girl that was sleeping in the guesthouse she could see through Massie's window. Claire had had everything she wanted —she'd been part of a set— and still, she'd thrown it all away, and for what, for Cam? They boy that wouldn't even look in her direction (and definitely wouldn't now). Claire had stampeded into their group, swept around it like a tornado leaving nothing but destruction, and then had walked out like it was no big deal. She'd ruined them and didn't even seem to care.
And now, as she stared at the backs of Kristen and Claire as they left the ice cream parlour, arms linked in friendship like they used to do, she thinks that last night's thoughts were right, because Kristen and Claire were still a match set even outside of the Pretty Committee. She imagined that—a Pretty Committee without her. They'd all sit together at Table 18 in the lunchroom and she'd be watching them from afar with a longing look in her eyes. During sleepovers Alicia and Massie would dress them up like dolls and they'd spend hours laughing at the ridiculous combinations they would come up with before the next morning they'd be sent away with a bundle of clothes. On theme park rides Alicia and Massie would take the first row and Claire and Kristen the second; four, the perfect number for any amusement park. Sometimes at the mall they'd split up, so Kristen and Claire could check out the newest Gap sale and Massie and Alicia would go to Fendi, but all four of them would go to Hollister together to gaze at the cute boys and Claire would comment about how good Massie would look in this or that and Massie would vehemently deny it and then get chased around the store till they were all kicked out, clutching their sides in laughter.
She knows that if it was the four of them in the Pretty Committee, and not her, that her name wouldn't be third rank on the Blacklist—that they never would've needed to blackmail Claire, that Kristen wouldn't have betrayed them.
"Massie?" Alicia said worryingly.
Dylan turned from where she had been watching Kristen and Claire through the large front window of the shop to face the Alpha of their group which had just been deemed socially bankrupt. Massie was as white as a sheet; her face was completely devoid of all color which made the tones of her blush and bronzer stand out starkly against her skin. Her expression was blank however, as if she didn't know what to feel so instead she just felt nothing. Suddenly she took in a deep (almost choking) breath, and the red that had been missing flooded up her neck to her cheeks. Massie looked for a moment as if she were about to stagger backwards (Alicia even started lifting an arm to steady her) before she straightened her back as quick as the snap of a rubber band, abruptly turned on her heel and walked briskly out of the shop. Dylan and Alicia scrambled to follow her, too worried about their current social status to try and maintain any sort of dignified walk while they did so.
They clambered into the car after Massie and Isaac gave them a knowing look through the front mirror.
"I told you-"
"Don't!" Massie snapped. Isaac's mouth quickly shut in surprise at the vehemence in her tone. "Say one more word and I'll tell my parents that you molested me and have you locked up for life," she hissed. "And we've all heard what they do to child predators in prison so I doubt that life will be very long. Turn around, we're going home."
Dylan didn't say it, but she surely thought it, and by the way Alicia's eyes widened to the size of tennis balls and how she lifted a hand to cover her gaping mouth they were having the same thought—Ehmagawd . . .
Isaac promptly turned back around, eyes dark and guarded as he twisted the key into the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. Alicia must've been just as afraid to speak as she was (she surely wasn't trying to get threatened like poor Isaac), because she was also silent for the entire ride back to Massie's mansion. Nonetheless, neither of them could help darting —curious, concerned, frightened— looks towards Massie who steadfastly stared straight out her window with pursed lips. Dylan's sure that if she could, Massie would be claiming bad sushi, but that would all be for nought.
The car coasted to a stop directly in front of the Block mansion's front doors, and Massie barely waited for it to stall completely before she was jumping out of the car and racing up the front stairs. Alicia and Dylan gave each other worried looks, then followed. As soon as they were on the front steps Isaac was driving off, not that she blamed him. She wondered if he'd be quitting that day, or if he'd stick it out, but would no longer give them lighthearted banter as he usually did. She prepared herself for that loss as she followed Alicia up the stairs and into Massie's room (cursing as she hit her knee on the doorway, like always).
Massie was sitting on the floor in front of her bed, cuddling a confused-looking Bean in her lap.
"Massie?" Alicia started quietly, her voice breaking the silence. Massie didn't reply. "Massie what do we do?"
What could they do? Dylan had been racking her brain, and while she knew that she was no Massie in the way that her alpha was able to come up with solutions and plans on the fly, she couldn't see how anything would make their situation better. Cassia wasn't likely to forgive them anytime soon (if ever), Vanessa was even worse about holding grudges, so they couldn't appeal to her better nature either separate from the rest of her clique, and there was no sudden plan that could do to pass the blame onto someone else. It was clear that Kristen and Claire had banded together and told Cassia exactly what happened, and for Cassia to have believed it they must've shown her undeniable proof. There was nothing they could fake, play off, blackmail, to get them out of the situation they had found themselves in. Dylan gulped, suddenly wanting to cry. Why did they have to try to get on up on Cassia? Look at the state it had gotten them into . . .
Massie snorted, her voice sarcastic as she spoke. "Do you mean with Kristen, or with the Blacklist, because I don't know for either of them."
"Y-You have to know," Alicia insisted, her voice as desperate as Dylan felt.
"Well I don't," Massie said, her tone very matter-of-fact. "At least not here at Octavian Country Day- or Briarwood Octavian Country Day, whatever, it doesn't matter."
"What are you even talking about!?"
"I'm talking about leaving!" Massie snapped. Bean hopped out of her lap as she stood up. "I'm talking about looking up a really nice boarding school, convincing my parents to let me go, then starting over there where Vanessa's stupid blog doesn't reach!"
"W-What about us?" Dylan asked, her voice soft.
Massie's fierce gaze moved from Alicia to Dylan, and at her question her face softened. "You both can come with me," she said, her shoulders straightening and a look of determination coming onto her face. "None of us have a life here anymore, but we can start a new one together." A small smile tilted the right corner of her lips. "Get back to the top together wherever we end up."
Alicia still looked a little hesitant, but certainly wasn't as harried as before. "How would we convince our parents?"
"We choose a great school and have a whole presentation about it. If we can find a school with a great Spanish program, maybe your parents would like it more. And, Dylan, we can get something with an ah-mazing nutrition course."
"Maybe we can go somewhere overseas, like Paris," Dylan gasped.
"Or like London," Massie continued.
"Or Spain," Alicia piped.
The three of them grinned at each other and Massie lifted up her right hand, bracelet shining in the afternoon light, and shaking her wrist so that the charms clinked against one another with a chiming sound. The two of them followed her actions as Massie cried, "The Pretty Committee lives on!"
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