**Well hello there my lovely readers. If you're coming back here you're realizing that this looks a little different than before. That is because I have edited this story and I am reposting it. For those of you just coming in, this was my first fanfic so it is my baby. I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to leave a review. Feedback is always appreciated. (I promised myself I would stop begging for reviews and have some dignity.)

P.S This story takes place after Bratfest at Tiffany's. So any plot lines succeeding this book do not apply.

Disclaimer: …we all know Lisi Harrison owns these characters. I just got to play with them when they grew up. **

Prologue: Closing Time

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end"

Massie POV

"Kuh-laire," I held my freshly French manicured hands at the bridge of my nose, shutting my eyes as if to block out the hideous display before me. So many years and her fashion flaws were impeccable. I didn't think Claire could do it, but somehow she managed to still look like an LBR even in her twenties. Bravo, Claire, bravo.

"Take those pieces of trash off and burn them before I open my eyes."

"What-" Claire started, "What pieces of trash-"

"One," I counted, holding up the correct number of digits, "Two,"

"What the hell is she talking about," Claire's new friend Jamie asked.

"Does anyone want to help," the confusion was plain in Claire's voice. "Four," I said louder.

"Your crocks, Claire," Alicia snorted, "Those ugly pieces of foam you call shoes."

I felt an almost disturbing amount of satisfaction at the clunk of the crocks in the trash. Opening my eyes, I smiled at Claire's raspberry cocktail painted toenails, where were on display for all of JFK to see.

"I so approve of that color by the way. Grab something more suitable out of your carry on and step up the pace Lyons. We have a plane to catch."

I smiled as I spun on my heels and strut towards our terminal. Gawd… I thought with a grin large enough to put the Cheshire cat out of business…I am so back.

Claire POV

Oh God, she's back.

Jamie leaned over in her seat, a lock of her chocolate hair propping on my hand. I couldn't be happier to have my best friend from home moving with me and being so liked by Massie and the gang. As much as I hated to admit it, I still looked for approval from them. I guess old habits die hard.

She had curly, luxurious, chocolate hair which was a few tones darker than her light chocolate skin. Accompanied with her full lips, and the most gorgeous lashes that curled above her black, orb-like eyes, she was a knock out. I didn't think it a stretch to say that she was the most attractive out of all of us. And as if her face wasn't enough, she even gave Alicia competition in the body department.

"So what exactly is the Pretty Committee," Jamie whispered. Her plain and ordinary accent snapped me out of my speculation.

"You don't know what you're apart of?" I laughed.

This one question led into the telling of my friends and our miscreant days. This wasn't the first time I had told her most of our pinnacle moments. She knew about my starting rejection, the trip to Lake Placed, and Dial L for Loser, but when I told her of different adventures she listened with obvious interest. I told Jamie how we had ruled OCD even when we flooded Briarwood and the boys transferred, and eventually ended with our last chapter –the boy fast.

"So what happened after that?" she asked.

"We all just lost touch as we went to college," I shrugged. You're lying, my conscience shook its head at me…you're lying through your teeth!

Well…Our departure was something that none of us liked to reminisce about. Another painful memory I would refuse to taint my mind with.

"Aren't we a little old for Cliques," Jamie laughed, "I mean, if we're still doing this at 23 years old, imagine what we'll be doing by the age of 50."

I chuckled, the image of Massie with a bejeweled walker flashed through my mind.

"I don't think Clique is even the right word for it anymore," I said, "It's much...stronger. We've been with each other through thick and thin." Especially thick, my mind sang, "We're like sisters...it's a sorority now. We're like our own personal sorority."

"Hm," Jamie smiled as she leaned back and put on her rhinestone headphones. Massie would definitely love that, "I like the sound of that,"

I followed suit, pulling out my white, plain, screen-less iPod shuffle. I looked between Jamie's iPod, and my own, snorting at how much they reflected our personalities perfectly. So as the plane took off I made a pact with myself to start over. It was as if I was physically leaving behind every screw up, every mistake, and every painful memory. Only allowing myself to take one last peek out the window I decided I was finally putting my past behind me. The lyrics to Semisonic's 'Closing Time' coaxed my eyes to close. And then they did close, shutting out my life in New York so that when I awakened I would be opening my eyes to my life in Rancho Santa Fe, California.