tagIllustratedClique Ch. 01

Clique Ch. 01

byPencilSketch©

(All characters are 18+)

Clique



(L to R) Hailey Radclyffe, Henry Bridge, Sofia Lorenzini, Carlos Lorenzini,
Trista Dory, Paulie Westwood, May March, Vinton Gray



Chapter 1: The Bitch

I flowed through my morning routine, efficient and exact. Monday's makeup shades were set aside, selected on Saturday to complement the ensemble, which I had already decided on a week prior. No repeats on Mondays, name brand whenever possible. I gave my hair one more brush and the crisp blouse another little tug. Tight enough. It's no good if it doesn't remind them you're a woman, after all. Monday had a skirt, which meant maybe there would be enough time for me to be a terrible daughter before Carlos came to pick me up for school.

My cell buzzed, a text.

Dear Trista, C U at school! Love, May

For fuck's sake. May March, whom I'd dubbed Homeschool, was new this semester, and it was impossible to believe how sheltered she still was. Just the week before, I had provided my pet primrose a little lesson on texting. I was beginning to regret that.

Down the stairs, to the breakfast table, Mom the Hag was distracted in the kitchen. Dad sat with coffee and instant waffles. Four minutes to go, give or take. This might work.

Dad looked up from behind a piece of mail. "Ready for school, sweetie?"

"I'm being picked up any minute. Carlos is back from out of town."

I sat and picked up the syrup bottle. Seriously, I had no intention to touch that disgusting waffle.

"Trista, you know there's no need for your friends to take you. I work there every day, same as you. Oh, watch yourself there!"

I had let a single drop of syrup miss my plate and fall onto my skirt, at the hem between my knees. I stood up quickly facing Dad, to play my favorite role.

"Oh no. Dammit! There's not enough time for me to change."

I lifted the hem of my skirt up to my mouth like it was no big deal, stood my body up straight, and began to suck on the sweet droplet. It wasn't about cleaning the stain, of course. It was about Dad's face as he sat dumbstruck. I knew my thin black panties and a bit of taut swimmer's tummy lingered at his eye level. I relished the tease as long as I dare. Dad tried to sputter something, but it didn't look like he was able to fill his lungs. It was getting hotter down below, and way harder to maintain my practiced innocence. For those few precious seconds, all my senses went on high alert. My skirt . . . was delicious.

A car horn honked outside, twice.

Time caught up, our minds cleared, the skirt dropped, and Dad drew breath. Before he could think, I flowed away again with a "Bye Dad, Bye Mom!" that ended with the front door slamming shut behind me, a successfully terrible daughter.

I walked out to Carlos' car . . . which wasn't Carlos' car. This was an old boxy little piece of shit.

"Carlos? What's this? Where's the convertible?"

"Nice to see you too, Hot Stuff. My dad borrowed my car while he's gone. He's gonna buy me a new one really soon. In the meantime, I have this little baby."

Carlos trotted around the car and tried to give me a quick kiss, which I casually denied with a turn of my shoulder. He pretended not to notice and opened the front passenger door for me. Revealed there was his nutjob sister, Sofia, looking up at me critically. This wisp of a girl wasn't even worth my glare, with her randomly half-braided black hair, army fatigues as a top, and for a skirt... something. Something hideous. It looked like what Bo Peep might wear to a cotillion. Carlos shooed his sister toward the back seat. She did have one thing going for her: Sofia's glare was almost as good as mine.

Carlos gave his sister a look. The lanky girl rolled her big eyes and climbed into the back seat, her legs flailing up and somehow all the way over. With reticence that I didn't try to hide, I slowly eased into the passenger seat. I did not even want to touch that seat cover. The little piece of shit car was underway with a sputter.

"So, Carlos, where have you been?"

"You know that; I told you already. I had to go to Columbus, Ohio while my dad set up his business. Don't worry, I'm back for good. I'm not moving or anything, and I'm cleared to go back on the team, too."

"I mean since then. Hailey saw you at the grocery store last week."

"Oh." There was a faint crack in Carlos' smile. "I've just been really busy."

A lie, of course. Did he think I couldn't tell?

"Busy with what, cheerleaders?"

"No! With like just... normal life stuff. My dad needed me to help."

Liar. He was the worst liar.

"Whatever."

"It wasn't cheerleaders."

I needed to break him, just a little, so said, "It's fine. It's not like we're officially dating or anything anyway."

I stewed in uncomfortable silence the rest of the way to school. As we parked, I felt two foreign objects bump against my ears from behind me.

Sofia wiggled her toes. "Trista, which of my feet smell worse?"

I huffed out of the car as quickly as I could, slamming the door behind me, hearing Carlos scold his sister, frustrated. But as I reached the school entrance, I turned back and saw Carlos still in the driver's seat, laughing with Sofia despite himself. He grabbed one of Sofia's feet and gave it a quick sniff, then pretended that the smell had knocked him cold.

++++++++++++++++++++++



Four hours later, May March walked beside me, heading to lunch. Well, beside and a step behind, of course, with her sack lunch literally in a sad little brown bag held at the top fold with both hands. Homeschool was a bit tall, and quite cute, but acceptably so: she was one inch shorter and a mile less sexy than me.

We jaunted to our usual spot outside at the old bleachers. It used to be me and my two girl friends with Carlos and his two guy friends, but Carlos had been gone for six weeks. This meant I had been sitting with these two absolute losers, Paulie and Vinton, day after day, for no reason other than to keep the status quo, just to keep us all friends while we waited for him to return. It didn't help that Homeschool was such an empty vessel and that my so-called best friend Hailey would scarcely sit with us at all before she would leave to the parking lot for a smoke.

Where Vinton was just a huge nerd, Paulie was huge moron. From what I understood, Paulie played "fullback" protecting Carlos as "running back" last year, whatever that meant. Carlos was barely on the team at this point, but the fat lump remained loyally protective of his friend. I didn't know what it would take to get rid of the guy.

It annoyed the hell out of me, but at the time I was comforted that if I just waited another month, another week, another day, Carlos would be back and things would be bearable again -- that things would be proper. But now there was this nagging feeling that I'd misplaced my rose-colored glasses. That maybe Carlos wasn't ever really Carlos— a boyfriend who would make the last six weeks worthwhile.

May set her little sack in its usual spot, then told me, "I'm going to go buy my milk."

I rolled my eyes. "We know, Homeschool. Every day."

The pale girl gave a soft, weird laugh and walked back through the milling crowd of teenagers, scavenging quarters from a little change purse. Her very light red hair was distinct as she weaved her way, done up in a ridiculous Jen Brady.

Of course, short moody blonde Hailey made her short moody blonde cameo, welcoming Carlos back with an out-of-character dimpled smile and hug, "Oh no, not you again," and was walking away ten minutes later, muttering about nicotine.

Carlos nudged me down the bleachers a few feet to talk, away from our friends.

"Hey, Trista, I know it must seem like maybe I abandoned you. I know I didn't call like I said I would. Vint's pretty pissed at me too, ya know? So listen, I'm sorry. And I promise, from now on, I'll make time for you, okay?"

I sighed, and felt like a fool. Maybe I was blowing all this out of proportion. Maybe I'd just been missing him, and all these other little annoyances wouldn't keep multiplying now that he was back.

I was... hopeful.

I asked, "So maybe we can go do something together, Friday night, the two of us?"

"Sure. I mean, kind of. Friday is Vint's birthday -- we have to go to that. His folks are gonna leave us all the house-- we'll get some drinks. He says they got him a new flatscreen. Me and Vint need to play Rock Stars 3 drunk again, and-"

I stopped him. "Wait. What about you and me? Can't we, you know, skip the party?"

"Babe, we have to go. I mean, you remember on me and Sofie's last birthday he's the one that threw us the surprise party?"

I locked Carlos in a frozen glare and growled under my breath, "I am not spending my Friday night watching you, the fat idiot, and the biggest nerd in school play video games."

He gulped. "Well, I can't really do anything tonight, or weeknights. You know, catching up with all the schoolwork I missed, and on Saturday, Sofie has this ...doctor's appointment I drive her to out of town . . ."

I actually felt my heart harden. He was lying, again, I just knew it. My rose-colored glasses were shattered.

At that moment, fifteen feet away, while Paulie was animatedly talking about something no doubt characteristically stupid, without warning he fell straight down on his ass. As far as I could tell, he fell for no reason whatsoever, like his body had decided that he was such a goddamned idiot that it would simply be more appropriate for him to be on the ground at this moment, smeared with Kung Pao, sending little flicks of his lunch in my direction.

As the others helped Paulie clean up, everyone laughed but me. It wasn't funny, it was pathetic. Paulie seemed to notice, and looked at me with that empty, dumb look of his, and a switch went off in my head. There was a dot of sauce on my white blouse.

I'd had enough. These boys were not my friends. Or rather, they were not supposed to be my friends. I must have made a terrible mistake somewhere along the way, one I had to reverse.

I turned on my heels, took Homeschool by the arm, and yanked her away with me. As the boys watched us abruptly leave, I overheard Vinton chuckle to Carlos:

"She's so not invited."

++++++++++++++++++++++



It took a couple of minutes for us to finally reach the back of the woodshop, where I knew Hailey liked to hide. She and her smoking companion, Henry Bridge, had been watching us approach. He had preferred being called "Bridge" ever since we'd known him in elementary school. He mostly had his own crowd now. I'd noticed an appreciative gleam in his eye when we got near enough. Homeschool hadn't yet met Bridge; I wasn't sure if she knew any black boys at all, actually. I noticed that her cheeks immediately became brightly flushed as they always did when a guy gave a nice smile in her direction. Bridge was saying something to Hailey when we were in earshot.

"She's looking good, though."

Hailey scoffed. "Don't remind me."

When we reached them, I put my hands on my hips and gave Hailey my best smirk. "So, Hailey, keeping Bridge company? Are you two . . .?"

Bridge and Hailey both immediately chorused "No, no, no" before I could even ask.

"I'm a perfect gentleman, Trista, you know that. Watch." Bridge looked to Homeschool and extended his hand. "Hailey has mentioned you, but I forget your name."

Homeschool could barely squeak out, "It's a pleasure to meet you," and shook hands.

We all waited a beat before Hailey wearily followed up with, "May. Her name's May. I think she forgot her name, too."

Bridge smiled at me. "So Trista, how's our man Carlos? I heard he's back from the dead. You know if Coach is going to let him come back and play with us?"

I'd made up my mind. "Maybe, but as of now he's none of my concern."

Hailey and Bridge looked back and forth in surprise.

"Really?"

"I thought you two were . . ."

"Over," I said with certainty. "We're over."

And maybe this was my chance to make that decision stick. I gestured to the nice new car parked nearest. "Bridge, that's your SUV, right?"

"Yeah, she's mine."

"And you don't mind ditching fourth period?"

"No, that's cool."

I took Homeschool's hand and began leading them all to the SUV. "C'mon, sounds like it's time for us to go, then."

Hailey and Bridge shared a doubtful look with each other, but Bridge shrugged and clicked the remote to unlock the car.

Hailey trotted over to my side. "You sure about this, Trist?"

I just looked back at her and took shotgun. Hailey and May hopped in back while Bridge started the engine.

I adjusted the visor mirror and reapplied some lipstick. "You got any pot?"

Bridge grinned. "That's why they call me Henry the Eighth."

As we drove off school property, Homeschool tittered, wide-eyed. "I didn't even know we were allowed to leave for fourth period!"

++++++++++++++++++++++



A few miles down the road, then off the paved road, then past evergreens and oaks and signs reading Danger and Private Property, Bridge stopped the SUV fifty feet from what was called the River Hole.

Bridge moved to the back of the car, dug into a container of instant coffee, and pulled out a baggie of pot. The rest of us slipped out of the car and wandered over to the River Hole. It was basically this strange spot in the middle of nowhere, a hole in the ground, a near perfect circle fifteen feet in diameter with a few short iron guardrails.

Homeschool knelt and looked directly down into the hole. She wouldn't be able to see the bottom. There's always a steady, muffled bellow coming from deep down there. I thought it sounded like an air conditioner or the background noise of a crowd. Homeschool was enthralled, of course. "What is it?"

Hailey laid on her belly beside Homeschool, joining her for a stare down the chasm. She dropped a pebble. "Underground river. Actually, an underground part of a river. The San Jalina is like a mile west of here."

Bridge sat on the ground behind them and rolled us a family-size joint. "Two hundred yards down. I heard some company was going to use it as a water source, but they gave up on it after digging the hole."

I knelt down and tugged on the girls' clothes at their backs. "Now it's just waiting here patiently for some clumsy little girls to slip and fall down." I smiled, and gestured for them to back away from the hole and join me and Bridge to sit in a circle.

Bridge, then I, then Hailey puffed and passed the joint around, until finally Homeschool held it, staring, petrified.

Hailey assured her softly, "You don't have to. Just pass it on to Bridge."

Homeschool looked at each of us quickly. Her hands shook for a moment as she brought the joint up to her lips, taking the smallest toke in recorded history. Immediately after, she shoved the offending object into Bridge's hands.

I had to cheer. "Wooooo! Homeschool! Innocence lost!"

She blushed impossibly red and laughed, hiding her face in her hands.

So pot got passed, and the minutes passed, and the fuzzy tingle at the back of my brain grew. I kept my eyes on Bridge the whole time.

My first memory of him was on the playground at recess as kids. It was him on the swing next to me, both of us swinging with our bellies on the seats, seeing who could fly highest while stretched out like Superman. He was skinny then, and talked a lot. He had stuck his tongue out at me when he got highest into the air, then ran away for me to chase, but I never could catch him.

Now, I stared as Bridge effortlessly chatted and flirted, and he gave me all the right looks when I found fake reasons to touch his arm or knee. He seemed so genuine and charming. I remembered how wonderfully surprised I was when I had seen him recently with his shirt off at practice. His tight, tight shirt.

After slowly letting out a last plume of smoke, I passed the remaining half of the joint to Hailey, leaned over and whispered into Bridge's ear, "It's time." I got him to stand up, took his wrist with both hands then pulled his arm as if to drag him, heading toward the SUV.

I watched Bridge give Hailey an apologetic smile as we walked away. "We're going to the car for a minute. Can you two stay here and finish that up?"

Hailey just breathed in deep and looked to Homeschool, muttering, "They've got to be kidding."

Homeschool said something like, "It's okay, I can help a little," puckered her lips and sucked her cheeks in as she tried to figure out the next puff, like a fish impression.

++++++++++++++++++++++



I pushed Bridge into the back seat and followed, shutting the door behind me. I was literally crawling to him, eye to eye. His stare had turned dark and hot. My fingertips touched down on the seat surface in front of me on the few inches of leather upholstery between us, like I was ready and set at a starting line. I tensed, letting the thought of imminent new sex run through my veins. Oh, that feeling again- almost as thrilling as sex itself. I watched Bridge let his gaze wander down into the hanging, loose collar of my top and probably all the way inside to my belly button and hipbones if the angle was right. Soon enough my eyes caught him again.

I had to tell him. "I'm coming for you, and I will wreck you."

I had never felt so spring-loaded.

It wasn't in Bridge's nature to let a girl be the aggressor, I found out. He pounced his huntress and grabbed the hair at the back of my head. Hard. I felt the coils that were stretched tight in my muscles just snap and surrender. He dragged my face to his and his lips met mine with heavy kisses that grabbed for me at all angles. His left hand pushed to my breast. I was desperate for the touch of skin but he was showing no rational effort to remove the layers of clothing in his way. He forced his hand through a gap in the front of my top, and a button popped.

I couldn't even pull back from his lips for a second, so spoke into his mouth, spoke onto his tongue. "Let me take care of that for you." I twisted around a bit, unbuttoning my blouse with the little stain dot on the shoulder.

Wriggling my top off, I pushed myself up and back onto him, and my little black nylon bra that I had selected so carefully somehow found its way up about my collarbone, blessedly away from my breasts dying for exposure. His lips lathed and pulled on my nipples from below, enough to hurt and harden oh so quickly.

I let my hand creep downward while his tongue moved in circles, then his teeth all but chewed. There was something I had to see. I raised his shirt up then pressed down hard on the bulge in his pants, and observed. Yes. God, I knew I'd love the way his ab muscles involuntarily flexed.

Bridge opened his mouth with an intake of air, releasing my breast, and put a hand to his brow, "Oh fuck yes," he gasped.

Through the layers of fabric, I felt his cock stiffen in pulses. It was like a heartbeat pressing up against my palm and wrist. My skirt had naturally bunched up into a belt of folded cloth around my waist, and my panty-covered pussy was pressed flat against the seat of the car with my knees spread wide.

I hadn't realized I was doing it, but I was sliding myself back and forth into the seat with building friction as my palm pressed and released against Bridge's crotch, and his abs flexed again and again; my little biology experiment. Fun for a while, but I'd had enough of that.

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