Title: We Fall Between

Authors: Love's Crash Test Dummy (Jess) & Creatively Licensed B (B)

Ships: THE FOUR, Kaylie/Nicky, Kaylie/Damon, Nicky/Kelly, Emily/Damon, Emily/OC, Razor/Jody, Payson/Sasha, Payson/Austin, Mark/Kim, Lauren/AJ, Lauren/Razor, Lauren/Ike, Lauren/Max, Max/Maeve, Max/OC, Faith/EVERYONE, Henley/History Channel, Ava/Rain Cloud of Emo, Carter/Failure, OC/OC & more…

Rating: TEEN; Language, some adult content, nothing too graphic

Disclaimer:We don't own nor claim to own either Make It or Break It (ABC Family) or the novel that inspired Love, Life and Denim (Ann Brashares) or the movie adaptation (Warner Bros. Pictures).

Authors' note: This is our world and strictly alternate universe. It doesn't follow the show and will be explained as we go along. You should probably read its predecessor Love, Life and Denim before diving into this guaranteed monster of a story. Unlike #LLD, #WeFaB is more us, more reckless and more insane. Hold on to your hearts, lovers, someone's must break.

…

We Fall Between

…

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

- T.S. Eliot

…

Once upon a time in a far away land known as Boulder, Colorado, there lived four girls who shared a single pair of pants. The girls were all very different from shape and size to taste in boys and clothes, and yet a single pair of old jeans fit each of them perfectly…

Ugh. What a lame opening. Who do I look like? Kaylie? Don't even try to answer that.

Seriously, I probably would have been better off quoting Gossip Girl in my hotter-than-Kristen-Bell narrator voice. Hello, Thrift Shop Lovers, Lauren Tanner here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Boulder's teenage elite. If you're one, all that matters is money, beauty and hook-ups from body action to who, what, when and where of how to get high. Some "teenage elite." Everyone is empty.

Not that you can really blame anyone. It is Boulder. Physically, it's beautiful (who hasn't seen the Flatirons?) but it's also super cliquish. If you're insanely liberal, a hippie, an extreme athlete, big on the outdoors or a university type then congrats, Boulder is the place for you! If not, my advice is to run away, fast and hard in the opposite direction. We've been called the San Francisco of Colorado, just lamer. No beaches or white sand, just creeks and rivers.

Majority of the people I know seem nice and friendly, but it's all surface. Everyone will share their opinions even if you don't want it and they pride themselves on being "different" and "unique." Give me a break. They'll be nice to your face, sure, but if they haven't known you since grade school it's an automatic boot into the Rejects classification of human.

Boulder is what daddy calls an "affluent community." People here are wealthy and come from wealth. Residents are the elite of America, living in ivory towers with a mountain view. Basically, Boulder thinks it's more sophisticated than it is. It doesn't mean we don't have our 'hoods where the poor squish into crumbling buildings and wandering homeless because we do, but the high housing prices push more and more of them out to Longmont every day.

The University crowd who basically run the town. It has a reputation for being a party school, home of the Boulder Boozers, as I call them. I used to know them really well, but not so much these days. I went from the most feared insider to the biggest outsider.

I used to rule them, but apparently there's an unwritten law that says once you make a desperate play to save a childhood friendship and make a fool of yourself, your popularity takes a hit. Like, Big Bang to the dinosaurs. The giggles, the whispers, being crossed off the most exclusive guest lists, I can handle all that, but only because I have the Four.

Seriously, Em, Pay and (most times, but less and less) Kales are the only ones worth my time in CO. The lame opening wasn't without reason. No, the story of the jeans isn't just some suburban myth. We aren't little girls, playing make-believe between dress-up and tea parties. I'd know. I'm one of a four-hottie sisterhood with a silly pair of magic pants at the core.

Just to recap, I've been beyond BFF-status with Emily Kmetko, Payson Keeler and Kaylie Cruz since we were curled up in our mommies' bellies, the April group at prenatal yoga. You can call it destiny or fate if you believe in that. Most times I just chalk it up to the size of Boulder and how little options there are. Anyways, like women tend to do, our moms bonded and became best friends, each giving birth to a baby girl. Freaky odds, I know.

Our moms used to be friends, gabbing in the observation room while Em, Pay, Kales and I tumbled around on the mats in the beginning stages of our gymnastics careers, but as always, life is a bitch. Everyone tiptoes around the why of it all, but I'm not stupid. I know my mom broke them apart. Leslie Tanner with her big ideas, husband's money and taste for crack. Sometimes heroin. I had no idea when I was seven, but I'm sure Chloe, Kim and Ronnie did.

Having met Leslie, I don't blame the other moms for breaking ties and letting their friendship fade away. After all, Leslie left—on a stretcher because she was so strung-out—and made the decisions that landed her there. She didn't make the effort and instead of holding on and making things more painful, they let go.

To this day, I'm embarrassed. A little place like Boulder, word travels fast. Hell no was I going to spend the rest of my existence in this stupid town known as "the Rich Girl with the Runaway Coke Whore Mommy" or the "Crack Baby" so I did what I had to. I rose above it and that reputation died in the shadow of my new one: the Boulder Bitch. My actions put me at odds with my friends at times—with Kaylie all the time—but I refused to be that girl.

Last summer we were separated for a whole two months, a first in our sixteen years of knowing each other. It was also the summer we found the jeans and discovered their magic. Yours truly snatched them off a rack in a disgusting thrift shop downtown (Recycled fashion? I'm still not a believer) and got Kaylie to try them on, hoping it'd distract her from her whining over a boy—Carter, obvis. Then Payson tried them on and then Emily.

By the time the same pair of jeans made Kaylie's chicken legs look amazing and fit Emily, the skyscraper she is, we all knew something impossible and exciting was going down. If the same pants fit us—and I mean really fit, no camel toe, no cuffing—then things were just meant to be. By the time that denim was hugging my ass, making it look impossibly bootylish, I pulled out the AmEx and we were walking out with them.

Personally, I've never been convinced magic exists even if the jeans are pretty damn convincing. Kaylie has always been a fan, believing in things that are greater than the world of what can be seen and touched and explained. Payson is our resident skeptic and Emily wants to believe even if everything in her life tells her not to get her hopes up.

Magic or no magic, that summer had been something else.

Payson went to a gymnastics camp in Texas, just another step on her gold-encrusted ladder to the Olympics. It's totally beyond me how she came back at the end of the summer dating (well, pretty much dating) Austin Tucker a.k.a Mr. Sexy Gold Medalist and with friends like Faith Giancana a.k.a Queen Weirdo and Kelly Parker a.k.a the Denver Death Eater. Livestream smivestream. Doesn't make her any less of soul-sucking bitch.

I'm not supposed to hate or judge because they're Payson's friends and I need to accept that and blah, blah, blah, but seriously, no clue what Payson sees in them. Okay, so I follow Kelly Parker on Twitter, not because I care about her life or anything, but just so I know places to avoid when she's there. Not to mention her drunk tweeting sprees (which are starting to pop up on my timeline more and more lately) = hilarious.

Faith Giancana has been MIA and I can't say I care. I never really understood why everyone was so infatuated with her. Sure, from what I remember, she was cute, but so weird. Undiagnosed mental condition weird. So maybe I felt a little threatened. The last thing I need is someone fucking with my best friend's head just because I maybe fucked with her best friend's life. I had my suspicions, but Faith seemed disgustingly genuine. She disappeared anyways so whatever.

I can't say I mind sharing Pay with her older man. Payson Keeler getting hot male attention? I am proud, but a little worried about this strange setup they have. Apparently they aren't dating (it isn't allowed), but they're definitely together, but they don't do more than kiss. I don't think she even lets him get to second base. Every time I see the way they are together I tell her, "Pay, three words: Lock. It. Down. LID," and Payson will tell me to knock it off.

The only reason I even really say anything is because I don't want to see him hurt her. Hello! He's Austin Tucker. Did I mention he's hot and older? Oh, yeah, and experienced. Payson is young and naïve and inexperienced. She gives him the power to hurt her, which is, like, the number one no-no when it comes to boys! Austin Tucker doesn't seem like he has the kind of iron resolve against temptation a la Nicky Russo.

Nicky Russo, Barcelona Boy, Kaylie's boyfriend. In the war against Kelly Parker and the childhood besties cliché, Kaylie won out and claimed her prize—a pale, awkward nerd boy. Nicky's good-looking, fairly muscular with a nice smile, but personally I think it's outweighed by the bad hair, the scientific dork babble, the old man hobbies and dull personality.

Another thing, he goes along with whatever Kaylie says, which is nice if Mindless Accessory Boy is your type. Kaylie practically carries his balls in her handbag, which is funny considering they've been dating forever and still haven't done the dirty. Sexual frustration thy name is Kaylie Cruz. I admit I was amused at first, but it's tipping more towards annoyed. Why won't he do her so she'll stop whining? Seriously, Kay needs to take her little bitch to the vet because there has to be something wrong with a boy who isn't down to screw his girlfriend.

If you ask me, Kaylie's failure to fuck is probably thanks to the shitty advice from her new bestie. Maeve Benson, newly crowned leader of the popular kids, the self-proclaimed "Royals" who once partied at my house and drank my booze and worshiped me. Kaylie sits with them at lunch while Em and I don't. Kaylie invites us, but I'm not sorry Emily has better things to do and I'm allergic to bullshit and spray on superficiality.

But I get carried away sometimes. Whatever. Like I was saying, Kaylie has her boyfriend locked down despite their intimacy issues. No clue where Payson's going. The last thing I want to see is her turn out like Emily after what that douche musician did to her.

Damon Young tops my shit list and it's a long fucking list of D-bags and hoes. He had Emily so convinced that he was down-to-earth and wouldn't get swept up in the fame. When his single skyrocketed he built a bad rep, caught out in the streets by TMZ and other celeb gossipers, partying with other musicians and actors. Then one day he just disappeared.

There was no word anywhere. Rumors said his label pulled him out of the spotlight, sent him away from civilization to focus on his music. Others say he did it on his own, that he wanted to vanish and did just that. Emily had to find out about all of this via E! and trending Twitter topics. Next thing I know, Emily is sobbing about their relationship being over and the little shit deserves to be #2 on my shit list (#1 being Carter Anderson, duh).

So now, after how close we've gotten during the summer, I've made it my personal mission to keep Emily distracted. I signed her up for a bunch of extracurriculars and she's working at the Pizza Shack and doing this tutoring gig. Ha! Emily is trying to keep Ike from flunking out. Honestly, Emily trying to get Ike to do math and decipher poetry is hilarious! I'd much rather watch that during lunch, not listening to Maeve Benson talk about that one commercial and print ad she was in. Please. It was cheap and cheesy and for her aunt's boutique.

Super stardom is in Maeve Benson's future for sure. #sarcasm

Anyways, with my nonexistent popularity, openly socializing with Ike Benzinger can't hurt. He's funny in that loser kind of way. For a pint-size twig he has guts. I tell him we're going to fuck with A's car at 3 a.m. and Ike will show up all dressed in camo and face paint. Not that I was the one responsible for that giant penis drawn on the side of Alison's car and the lube on all the windows. I'm just saying Ike would if I snapped.

I'm aware how pathetic it is that the strongest male presence in my life (other than daddy) is Ike who looks and acts like he's yet to hit puberty, but I don't really care. I see the same silly boys day after day and no one really excites me. At least Ike is real. With AJ living in Palm Springs to be close to his kid (and the Baby Mama—double ugh) and Razor in Cali, my love life has been flatter than Maeve Benson's ass.

Speaking of Razor, we text daily and iChat every couple weeks. He talks about other girls, specifically that Jody chick and it pisses me off, but it's better than not talking to him at all. If I don't start off my morning with a text from Ray I'm in a shitty mood for the rest of the day. I can't explain it, but it isn't like I can explain anything when it comes to him.

Whatever. I don't need a man to be happy. For the longest time I wholeheartedly believed I need attention and a boy to lock down in a relationship, but I'm over it. I have my girls and Ike and even Razor from a distance. I even have daddy, who's been making it a point to be home a hell of a lot more. He still goes on business trips, meetings and consultations, but we actually, like, eat dinner together and talk. It's strange, but the good kind of strange.

Life always has ups and downs and my friends and I are proof of that. Like hell I'll ever tell anyone this (maybe Razor) but I feel the pull. Different things and different people in our individual lives pull at us, demanding, stealing our attention away from the Four and it being the middle of the school year, we can't just rub the jeans and wish to be best friends forever. They're summer pants and their magic doesn't work that way anyways.

The pull, it scares me sometimes and so maybe I end up snapping and being unnecessarily bitchy, but I can't help that. It's how I'm built. I know the girls more than understand, but I also know that they're getting tired of it.

My question: how do I stop being the person I am? Why should I stop being who I am?

It's frustrating. Over the summer, we were apart, the four of us scattered all around the world, but we had the jeans to bond over, to keep us connected. Now that we're all in Boulder, all together, more and more it seem just as difficult to keep this friendship afloat, but this time around we don't have the jeans to help catch us when we fall.

And we will fall. That much is guaranteed. Call me a cynic, but that's the life I know. It's a total, unforgiving bitch. Lo imitates life it seems. Gossip Girl would say something about happy endings just being a new beginning, a new opportunity to watch everything you have evaporate, to take one wrong step in the wrong heels and lose it all. Take it from an experienced faller. The higher you climb, the longer the fall.

What will happen next? Like hell if I know.

xoxo

Lo

...

Authors' Note: There you have it! It's another start to another adventure. Ready? Review.

Oh, and a huge HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the lovely Romance Novel! Faith would say male strippers are a necessity, but you might just have to settle for this shout out. ;)

Review.

#WeFaB #LLDforever