i would like to dedicate this story to "thosebluegreeneyes" (tess) for this amazing, beautiful, long review that i read, admired, and totally forgot to reply to. seriously. you should read it. it's the best review i've ever receive, possibly, so thank you, tess, for that :] thank you so, so much for all of your reviews, they've been completely lovely. i'm really sorry about the long wait for this chapter, but i finally sat myself down, put on my new xx CD, and told myself to write this. unfortunately, it's a bit of a filler. fortunately, my creative juices are totally flowing now! [:

"oh that boy's a slag

the best you ever had"

dh;

I wake up to my door opening. I blink open my eyes, and realize sun light is attempting to blind me by streaming in through the gaps in my blinds and that it's nearly mid-day. After I process all of this, I look at the door.

Josh, Kemp, Plovert, and Cam are there, poking their heads through the door. (Note that I'm friends with them because we're on the soccer team together, and not because I think they're smart or funny or something.)

Kemp has this confused expression on his face as he mouths, "Are we interrupting something?" And pointing at my bed. I look over and see Claire, curled up next to me, her blonde hair laying across her shoulders. I let out a breath I didn't know I've been holding.

And then I give Kemp a look, like, no fucking shit, Hurley. "What the hell are you doing in my house?" I mouth back.

He taps his watch and mouths, "Soccer practice, and you're the only one with a car and a license that hasn't been taken away."

"Get the fuck out," I say.

He nods, then turns towards the other three missing links. "Go, go, go," he whispers loudly, flapping his hand. Claire stirs. I make a 'hurry up' motion. They all get out, closing the door way too loudly behind them. I look back over to Claire, and her eyes are open.

She bolts upright. "Ohmygod," she mumbles, looking around.

"Claire," I say.

"I - what time is it?" She asks, getting out of my bed and running her fingers through her hair. "Twelve. It's twelve. Oh, shit, shit, shit -"

"Claire," I repeat.

She stops moving for a second and it seems to dawn on her that I am, in fact, in the room. "Sorry. Sorry. I was being...um, I just, sorry," she apologizes, calming down. "Sorry. This is, um..." she trails off and bites her lip and her cheeks turn red. Under her breath, I can hear her say something like "awkward".

I hear a crash downstairs in the kitchen, and I sigh. "I'm going to go and see what that was," I tell her, looking at her to make sure she's okay. I get out of bed too, and find some shorts to put on. "I'll be right back."

"Oh, okay," Claire says, nodding enthusiastically. "Actually, I'll meet you downstairs." She offers me a shy, small smile, before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and turning around, running her hand through her hair again.

I kind of worry about her as a walk downstairs, which is weird, because I didn't even worry when my sister went missing for two days. (Turns out she was just at a friend's house.)

When I get downstairs, four pairs of eyes are staring at me. "Uh, good morning," I greet lamely, before looking at the floor and spotting a shattered plate.

"Plovert did it," Kemp announces, pushing Plovert closer to the scene of the crime.

"I didn't mean to!" Plovert blurted. "Well, I mean, I wasn't aiming for the floor."

"Glad to hear that," I replied, deciding to ignore the broken dish for now. There's a silence, an anticipated silence. I look around the kitchen. "What?"

"What do you mean, what?" Kemp says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "What the hell happened, man?"

I was going to tell him to shut up, but then I hear soft footsteps behind me and I turn around. "Uh, wow, were they here the whole time?" Claire asks, her blue eyes wide, her cheeks coloring again. She had found her jeans but she's still wearing my shirt, and I can't help but think about how...good she looks. "Good morning. Or, well, good afternoon, I guess. Um, I mean, hi, Josh. Hi, Kemp. Hi, Chris. Hi, Cam." She gives each of them a small wave.

They each give her weird smiles back.

"Wow, so I just remembered, I have a ton of math homework," Claire says loudly. "I'm going to go. Home, I mean. Uh, yeah. Thanks, Derrick, for the uh, the..." she frowns and bites her lip. "The soccer lesson. It was...fun."

"I'm sure it was," Kemp remarks, and Claire's blush deepens as I give him the finger behind my back.

"I really should get home," Claire repeats.

"Do you need a ride?" I ask, before hearing Kemp and Josh snicker.

"No," she says, drawing out the 'o' sound. "I really need to go. Okay. Yeah. My car is just...by the park, um, okay, well, thanks again. Happy holidays," she says, now speaking to the group of dipshits behind me, before walking past me and out the front door, which closes with a loud slam.

The instant she's gone, I turn to face my friends.

The first thing Josh says is, "You're not human."

Kemp adds in, "Dude, I don't have hundred bucks on me right now."

"My mind is spinning. I think I just lapsed into a coma," Cam declares, staring off into the distant with blank eyes. "Dude. We just witnessed the unwitnessable. This is the apocalypse. Pigs can fly now. Hell has frozen over."

"So what was it like?" Kemp asks, pouring himself some cereal.

"What was what like?" I reply, sitting down at the kitchen table and snatching the cereal box away from him.

Josh sighs. "Not that again."

"I'm not talking to you guys about this," I proclaim.

Kemp and Josh look at each other. "You had no problem telling us about other girls," Josh points out. "Example; you say Alicia Rivera is nothing but quiet in bed. I tested that a week ago. You're right."

"Dude, I'm trying to eat," Cam says, half a Pop-Tart in his mouth. "Hey, would you mind if I paid your fifty dollars in...gum?" He asks meekly, holding up a packet of Trident Layers.

Kemp says, "That wasn't even funny the first time. It's not even funny on the commercials."

"I can't believe you did it," Josh says, shaking his head.

"Do you guys want to walk to soccer?" I threaten.

"Of course not, Your Highness," Plovert says. He turns to the rest of the table. "Ha. I didn't bet anything against Harrington, you dumbasses."

Josh holds up a wad of cash. "Take this with pride," he says, sliding across the table.

Kemp punches Josh on the shoulder. "You just carry wads of money around with you?"

Josh ignores him. "Pride, man, pride," he repeats, before they all stand up, preparing to leave for practice.

I take another two bites of cereal, my eyes glued to the money, Josh's voice reverbrating around my head. The more I look at the cash, ten twenty dollar bills folded in half, the more my heart sinks lower and lower.

Pride?

Try shame. So much fucking shame.

"the best you ever had

is just a memory and those dreams"

so...review?

even with the super lame ending?

:D i love you guys.