Title: I'm Sorry, But I'm Not In Love With You
Summary: AU. As soon as Claire beamed up at him, Cam decided to die. Clairington. Cassie.
Word Count: oh who the hell cares?! It's actually: 1052 words...I think.
Inspirations: Fall Out Boy; Lisa Yee; Friends; Hot N' Cold - Katy Perry
Song to Listen to: Lying is The Most Fun A Girl A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off - Panic at the Disco
Interesting Fact #1: Even though I abhor the song I Kissed The Girl for being insanely catchy, Katy Perry's actually a good singer.
Interesting Fact #2: Imagine the setting as Friends. You know, the two apartments?
Dedicated To: My fellow New Yo'hkers. "Yuh, hunay, us New Yo'hkers gotta stick togetha, huh?"

Disclaimer: I don't own the Clique or anything else mentioned here. They're all property of Lisi Harrison, the genius who can't put it into words.

- - - - -

You're in then you're out
You're up then you're down
You're wrong when it's right
It's black and it's white
We fight, we break up
We kiss, we make up

- - - - -

"I can't do this anymore, man!" Cam complained to Derrick, flopping heavily onto their elongated chaise, the only thing not covered in cardboard and/or bubblewrap. He closed his eyes as the extreme comfort of the cashmere – or something extremely soft, anyway – overtook his senses.

"Do what?" Derrick mumbled, barely looking up from his Playboy-hidden-behind-textbooks.

Cam kicked his knee. "You effin' well know what."

"Quite sure I don't, dude," Derrick raised his eyebrows at one picture and muttered, "Wrong angle…change the elevation…"

Momentarily distracted by his roommate's choice of words, Cam asked what he was doing so intensely.

"Trying to make this apartment look more spacious, dude. I know mirrors can make it look more…open but it needs something else. Like, maybe white? But, hey, maybe the whole minimalist look was too much for The Shack…" Derrick mumbled off, staring into space.

Inside Cam's brain, he felt guilty. Derrick wasn't reading Playboy after all. He was trying to make their junk-filled flat look like a College Student's dream apartment.

Knock, knock, tap.

"I'll get it." Derrick got up and made his way through the jungle called The Shack, avoiding the huge boxes and the LV suitcases.

Cam's eyes snapped open. That was Claire's knock. Claire's knock. That meant she was here. Crud! He got up and ran into one of the overcrowded rooms. She can't be here! Whipping out his Samsung faster than Michael Phelps swimming a width, he quickly texted to Derrick:

IF ITS CLAIRE, IM NOT HERE. SAY IM CMING L8ER

There was no time for spell-check, his life was in an emergency.

- x -

Back in the hallway, Derrick opened the door with a flourish, "Yes?"

"Um, hi, I'm Claire. Claire Lyons. Does Cam Fisher live here? I'm his - his girlfriend." A petite blonde smiled nervously, her pale arms gripping the straps of her backpack.

Before Derrick could respond to the, very attractive, blonde, his phone buzzed. "Hold that thought, blondie." He reached for his Blackberry and scanned the text.

Claire bristled at the 'blondie' nickname. After all, he was a blonde, too. As soon as Derrick tapped the last something into the mobile, she asked, slightly disgruntedly, "Well?"

"Sorry, no. He's out 'cause he got stampeded by a horde of prostitutes on his way here," Derrick lied smoothly. "But, I'm here, blondie and I have all the time in the world for you...what's your name again?"

Claire rolled her eyes at his attempts at flirting, refusing to be entranced by this light brown-eyed cheesy disc jockey-type. "Claire Lyons. What's yours?"

"Hottie." Derrick leaned into her. Claire stepped back. "But most people call me Derrick Harrington."

"Nice to meet you," she replied stiffly. "When Cam arrives, will you please let me know? I have something to tell – I mean, give him." Claire's rigid demeanor melted a bit as she remembered what she came here for.

"How?"

"How, what?"

"How will I let you know, blondie?"

"My name's Claire. C-L-A-I-R-E. And…you could e-mail me?"

"No can do, blondie. My laptop's fried. It saw a Windows Vista and fell in love but she crushed his motherboard." That was a lie, of course. His new MacBook Pro was excellent to the highest degree but there no way was he letting this blonde chick leave without getting her number. It would be an insult to his very colourful history.

Claire looked and felt frustrated but she gave her number anyway, despite her conscience shouting at her that it was a bad idea to give her number to Cam's obviously crazy roommate.

As Derrick stored her number, she asked the obvious. "What about yours?"

"What about mine?"

"Your number?"

"Oh. Ye-ahhh, about that..." It was against his policy on girls to give his number on the first meeting but, this was Claire; and she was taken by the boring ol', whiny, weirdly-eyed Cam Fisher, for Pete's sake! Cammie-boy wouldn't let his girl, or any girl, call Derrick Harrington, hottie-extraodinaire!

Claire looked wary and raised one eyebrow, "Yes? What about your number?"

"…Nothing. Listen." Derrick whispered his number rapidly so the women ( and men ) passing in the hallway couldn't hear. Who knows – they could all be after him and his body.

"Thanks, Harrington." Claire said dryly as she reached for his door and closed it to leave. "Please tell Cam I called?"

"Sure thing, BLONDIE!" Derrick yelled gleefully before slamming the door in her mixture-of-shock-and-amusement face.

From inside the overcrowded museum – no apartment, Cam crept out cautiously. "Is she gone?" He whisper-yelled.

"YES, CAM FISHER, SHE HAS LEFT THE BUILDING! AND SHE WAS VERY PRETTY AND BLONDE AND WHY ARE YOU AVOIDING HER? THAT'S NOT A VERY GOOD BOYFRIEND THING TO DO!" Derrick yelled, even more gleefully, if that was possible given his current volume.

"Shhhh!" Cam panicked, flapping his hands in the air. "She'll hear you!"

From outside the door, they heard a slight sob and the patter of sneakers hitting the floor quickly.

Cam ran his hand over his face dejectedly and flopped onto the ground. "Thanks a lot, moron. She'll either give me hell for this or tell Massie."

"Sure, no prob, buddy. Want a beer?"

"I hate you."

- - - - -
A/N: Yes! I will update this because I rather like this story! Consider all my other stories on hiatus, they're all just parodies are just nonsensical typos waiting to be laughed at :)
A/N: Edited the typos. Added a peppering of words and sense. Lovely-jubbly reviews. Simply lovely :)