#i had a math teacher who went by mr. b but again. name wasn’t hard. he was just polish.

[thewingedwolf]

i know this is very “millennial discovers xenophobia” or whatever but i was watching an interview with sebastian stan (in romanian) & he explained how no one knew how to pronounce sebastian (seh-BAS-tee-AHN instead of seb-ASS-chyon) that he went by christopher as a child & i remembered two kids i went to school with who went by nicknames. one was ishbah, i don’t remember what he went by tbh (it was first grade) and the other was jamal who went by jimmy. like, ishbah is pronounced exactly as it’s spelled. jamal is not a difficult name. it’s four different letters! but they had to go by americanized ones bc no one including the teachers wanted to call them by their actual names.

[study-coffee-chicago]

Stupid Game (A Halstead brothers + Halstead! sister imagine)

If you've read Someone I Used to Know by Patty Blount, you'll understand where I drew the inspiration from. Warning: includes sexual harassment and threats of sexual assault.

Fifteen days. Fifteen days left of this stupid and terrifying game. You could get through fifteen more days of their stupid game, after all, you were already halfway through. But, seeing as it was halfway done, they'd start to get more desperate. You needed something on you, anything. Pepperspray, mace, a knife, a razor blade--

"Y/N," you were snapped out of your thoughts by your brother, Jay, saying your name. "What are you doing up? I thought you had online first block today?" he asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed a box of cereal from the cupboard.

"I do," you answered, stirring the peanut butter into your oatmeal once more. "Just wanted to get up and get some math homework done," you lied.

"You didn't do it last night?" Jay asked, raising an eyebrow at you as he sat down across from you.

"I know, I should've done it. But I was frustrated that I couldn't figure it out and figured maybe looking at it in the morning with fresh eyes would help."

"Fair enough."

"You're not mad I procrastinated?" That was one thing both he and Will agreed on when it came to you and school: procrastinating and not getting your assignments done was unacceptable. They said they didn't care about grades as long as you didn't fail-- and you weren't, you were getting all A's and B's-- but they did care about you trying your absolute best.

Jay shook his head. "No, sounds like you got it all figured out." He looked at his watch. "I gotta go. I'm gonna be late. See you when I get home."

Jay stood up and put his bowl and mug into the dishwasher. "Will you be home for dinner?" you asked...which was really code for if he was going to cook or if you were fending for yourself.

"I don't know. We don't have an ongoing case, so depends on today's case." You opened your mouth to ask if you could order takeout when he stopped you. "And, yes, you can get takeout. I just expect the receipt and change."

"I know, I know. Now, go save Chicago," you said, shooing him out the door.

"It's a team effort," he replied.

"Yeah, yeah. Say hi to Hailey for me."

"Will do!" he yelled to you over his shoulder.

You waited another five minutes until you knew that Jay wasn't coming back before starting your mission. You went into Jay's room and opened his closet. After peering at all the shelves, you had almost given up, when a piece of cardboard on the top shelf caught your eye.

"Gonna need a chair for this," you mumbled and then made your way back into the kitchen and dragged a chair into Jay's room.

After moving a few things, you pulled the box down and set it on the floor. "What are you hiding in here, Jay?" you asked yourself, having never seen this box. You knew it was Jay's though because J. Halstead was written on the side in black permanent marker.

Slowly, you opened the box, as if scared something was going to jump out at you or Jay was miraculously going to appear and tell you not to open it. But, neither of those two things happened.

"Holy shit," you muttered as you opened the box. You thought this stuff was stored away in a storage locker, but it was here all along.

Inside the box was Jay's military uniform, all folded up, along with his dog tags and a few pictures from his time overseas. You felt like you were looking at one of Jay's most intimate secrets, just by looking at this stuff. You wondered who in those pictures came home and who didn't. There was also a small leather journal, and tied to the side of it was a knife.

You picked up the journal and untied the knife from it. You'd be lying if you said that opening the journal and reading it hadn't crossed your mind. But, you viewed your brother as a war hero, and if there was anything in there that would change that view, you didn't want to know. You also knew he had seen some horrific things over there, not that he had ever given you any specific details on the missions, you just knew because of how hard some cases hit him, especially kid cases.

So, you placed everything back into the box just like you found it and put it back on the shelf. Except for the knife, that you kept.

It felt heavy in your hands. The red handle was faded, probably from all the sand that had rubbed against it overseas. You ran a finger over the blade, a little dull from not being sharpened in all these years.

You jumped as your phone alarm went off, alerting you that you had half an hour before you had to leave. You turned it off and placed the knife in your pocket. Then, you dragged the chair back to the kitchen and continued to get ready for school, the extra protection you now had would make you feel more protected for these next fifteen days, that you were sure of.

With the knife safely placed in your backpack half an hour later, you headed off to school.

***

Jay furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at his phone. Your school was calling him, which was odd. The only reason he thought that they'd be calling was that you didn't show up, you weren't a troublemaker like he was when he was in high school. The stakes were higher now, so you couldn't afford to mess up.

"Sarge, I gotta take this. It's Y/N's school," he said and then proceeded to walk to an interrogation room for some privacy in case the call was serious.

"Jay Halstead," Jay said as he answered.

"Mr. Halstead this is Ben White, principal of Central Chicago High School. I have Y/N in my office right now and I would appreciate it if you could come down here."

"Is she in trouble?" Jay asked, knowing if it were anything other than that, he would have told him.

There was a pause on the other end of the line as the principal tried to figure out what to say. "Somewhat. I'll explain more in person."

"Okay, thank you. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

He hung up the phone and exited the interrogation room and went back into the bullpen to grab his keys and coat.

"Everything okay?" Voight asked.

"Not really. Y/N got in trouble at school, so I gotta go talk to her principal."

"What'd she do?" Kevin asked.

"Don't know yet, said he'll explain when I get there."

"Just don't be too hard on her. She's a good kid, Jay."

"I know, which is why I'm shocked that she's in trouble at all."

Hailey placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay."

***

When Jay walked into the principal's office, it was just like he remembered it from when he was in trouble in high school. Most of his were for a few fistfights at lunch or just not doing his homework. Hell, when he looked at you, you were in the same position he was always in whenever your guys' mom or dad had to come to pick him up: hands in your lap, head down, and eyes trained on the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Mr. Halstead, take a seat," Mr. White motioned for him to sit in the other empty seat facing his desk.

"Please, call me Jay. Mr. Halstead's my father. Now, what's this about?" he asked, looking between you and the principal to see which one of you would be the one to tell him.

"Well, as you know we have a very strict no-weapons policy at the school. And, well, your sister, this fell out of her locker."

At this, you looked up, wanting to gauge Jay's reaction. Something flashed across his eyes for a moment, and then anger took over a few seconds later. "A knife? Really? And my Ranger's knife at that?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled. But, you couldn't tell him what was going on. After all, it's not like the school would do anything about it, which wasn't for lack of trying because oh people had tried alright.

Jay took a deep breath, not wanting to blow up at you in front of anyone. "Why do you even have it?"

When you didn't answer him, he turned to your principal. "She said that she was snooping through your stuff, and she found the knife, thought it was cool, and wanted to show it to her friends."

Now, snooping, Jay could see. But showing a knife to your friends? Even having a remote interest in any type of weapon? Well, that just wasn't you and you both knew that. But, he knew you wouldn't tell him the real reason unless you were alone, even then it was a long shot.

"I see," Jay nodded. "Let's not beat around the bush here. What kind of trouble is she in?"

"Well, typically we have to call the cops on this type of stuff, but I figured since you were a cop, that this would do. Typically, there's also a three to five day suspension that comes with these things, but seeing everything she's gone through in the past years and that she has outstanding grades and never has even had a detention, I'm going to let her off with a warning. She just has to go home for the rest of the day," Mr. White answered.

"And this won't be on her record?" Jay asked.

"This won't be on her record," Mr. White confirmed.

"What do you say, Y/N?" Jay asked.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, looking up once again.

"And?"

"And it won't happen again." Jay cleared his throat, telling you that you forgot something. "Sir," you added quickly.

It was always something your dad had taught Jay and Will when they got in trouble, that they had to use either sir or ma'am in the apology. Up until today, you never had to use it, but here you were. There's a first time for everything.

"I'm sure it won't," Mr. White said.

"I'm gonna go get my stuff," you said to Jay before leaving the principal's office.

Jay rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. Then, he turned back to Ben White. "I'm really sorry about this. I don't know why she'd do anything like this. This isn't like her--"

"Jay, she's been through a lot," he sympathized. "She's probably just acting out. Every teenager goes through that. We both know you did."

Mr. White was a young teacher back when Jay and Will were in high school, and he got to see some of Jay's fights first hand. He even had to rip him off a kid once in the cafeteria.

"Hey, they were always for good reasons...And, I always won."

"Now that you're not a student anymore, I can agree with that statement." He heard the door to the main office open. "Just, don't be too hard on her, okay?"

Jay nodded and stood up and left the office. Now he had to deal with his sister and try to figure out what was actually the real cause of this.

***

You started to run up the stairs but were stopped quickly by Jay's stern voice. "No, come back down here. We're going to talk about this."

You sighed, knowing you were going to be in deep shit from him since you got nothing from the school. You handed him your phone, but surprisingly, he handed it back to you.

"I get to keep my phone?"

"You do, but that's only because I'm letting you drive to and from school and that's it. You go to school and you come straight home. No stopping for coffee, donuts, fries, nothing. I need you to have your phone on you in case you get in an accident." You nodded, knowing his logic was sound.

"How long?"

"Three weeks."

"Jay! But homecoming's in two and a half! And I'm going dress shopping with Emma this weekend!"

"Should've thought of that before you brought a knife to school, my military knife at that. Why were you looking through my stuff anyway?"

"Just curious, I guess." It was a lie and you both knew it.

"That's not the truth. What's going on? Come on, you know you can tell me."

Not this I can't. But, you didn't say that. "That is the truth, Jay. Now, how am I going to get my homecoming dress?"

"You don't need a dress if you're not going to the dance."

"You can't keep this from me--"

"Yes, yes I can. If it was detention for tardies or a failed test or hell, even a fight, this wouldn't be happening. But you brought a knife to school. Not only is that against school rules, but it's against the law. What you did was illegal, Y/N."

"I know and I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it this time, not with this. But, if you want to get a dress and go to the dance, maybe doing some extra chores can get you that."

"So, I don't have to tell Emma I can't come this weekend?" you asked, hopefully.

"Not what I said. You still can't go with Emma. If you earn back that privilege, Hailey can take you."

"But, Jay--"

"No buts. I put the offer on the table and I can just as easily take it off."

"Uh, fine."

"Now, I know you have classwork from the classes you missed today, so get to it. And, don't think I won't be telling Will about this."

***

You jolted awake from your sleep. Must've just been a nightmare, you thought. A really loud nightmare.

"You bastard!" you heard Jay yell.

Okay, so not a nightmare.

"Get away from him!"

Him? Who else was in the house besides you and Jay?

If it was serious, you knew Jay would have come to wake you up to get you out of the house or yelled your name by now. Slowly, you stood up and grabbed your phone. Then, you exited your room and walked across the hall to Jay's.

You heard more yelling and tossing and turning as you stood outside his door. After taking a deep breath, you slowly turned the knob and walked into his room.

When you saw the way Jay looked, you instantly knew what this was. "Let him go and no one gets hurt!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Jay turned towards you as if he had heard a noise in his nightmare which caused him to abruptly turn. His eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids and his face was dripping sweat.

Luckily, he started to calm down. His breathing started to slow and he hadn't yelled for over a minute.

"Jay," you whispered, taking a step closer to him. "Jay. Jay Halstead," you repeated, this time a little louder.

Nothing. You took a risk and touched his shoulder. "Bastard!" he yelled, throwing a punch which caused you to jump back, his fist narrowly missing your face.

Now it was his as well as your breathing that was coming out jagged.

You couldn't wake him up. You couldn't risk touching him again.

Jay yelled out again, causing you to jump and run out of his room.

You pulled out your phone and dialed the familiar number, hoping that he hadn't gotten called into work.

"Hmmm, hello?" your oldest brother's voice came through your phone, thick with sleep.

"Will, I need you. Please come over."

"Y/N? What's wrong?" He immediately sat up in bed upon hearing the worry in your voice.

"Jay's he's having a nightmare and I can't wake him up and--"

Yelling could be heard in the background and Will cut you off. "Is that him?"

"Yeah." The next part, you said quieter. You knew it wasn't Jay's fault this was happening, but it didn't make your feelings any less valid. "Will, I'm scared."

You heard a door close on Will's end. "It's okay. I don't think he's ever sleep-walked from a nightmare. Just, whatever you do, do not touch him. Understand?"

"Yes." More screaming. "Please, just hurry."

You don't know how you got through those fifteen minutes without completely breaking down. And, in those fifteen minutes, it had gone from yelling to hearing a few things slam to the ground. You assumed it was just things on Jay's bedside table, like his alarm clock, water bottle, and phone that had fallen from him trying to throw punches every which way, but you were too scared to check. What if he was up and standing and could throw things at you? You couldn't do that.

The sight Will saw when he unlocked the door and walked into the house completely broke his heart. You were sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with your feet tucked under you, and silent tears were streaming down your face. If Will hadn't known any better, he would have thought you were making yourself as small as possible as if to disappear.

Will knelt down in front of you so that he was at eye level with you. "Hey, has it gotten worse?" You didn't look at him and that was all the confirmation Will needed.

You let out a deep shaky sob, finally feeling like it was safe for you to make noise again. Will took that opportunity to envelop you in a hug. "It's okay. It's okay. He can't hurt you. It's not him that's doing this. He doesn't know he's home."

"I know he thinks he's in Afghanistan, but he, Will, he almost, if I didn't..." you trailed off, not knowing how to tell your brother that Jay had almost hit you.

"What did he almost do, Y/N? You know he'll want all the details when he wakes up, so just tell me. I promise I won't be mad at him."

You took a deep breath. "He almost hit me, Will. I touched his shoulder and he just swung and--"

"Did I or did I not tell you not to touch him?"

"This was before I called you."

There was another crash and you whimpered. Will gave you one last squeeze and stood up. "Whatever you do, do not follow me, Y/N. I don't want you to see this."

You nodded and tugged your blanket tighter around you as if that was even possible.

The ice was melting in Will's hands as he walked towards Jay's bedroom. He could hear yelling, well, they were more like loud sobs at this point. The floor next to his bed was covered in things that fell from his bedside table: his alarm clock, water bottle, phone, the lamp...which luckily hadn't been on and the bulb hadn't broken.

"Now or never," Will muttered to himself as he stepped towards his younger brother. Then, he flung the ice out in front of him, causing it to land on Jay, and jumped back as fast as possible.

"You bastard! Fuck!" Jay's eyes shot open, drinking in his surroundings.

"Jay," Will said, quietly alerting his brother of his presence before placing his hand on his shoulder. "You're home, in Chicago, you're safe." Noticing that Jay's breathing hadn't yet slowed, Will overexaggerated his inhales and exhales. "Breathe with me. In...Out...In...Out...Good..." And so they continued that until Jay no longer needed Will to guide him through his breathing.

"What happened?" he asked, looking to where his things were strewn on the floor.

"Y/N called me. You were screaming and she tried to wake you up, but couldn't."

Jay's eyes widened. "Oh, God. I didn't...Please tell me I didn't hurt her, Will."

"No, but you did come close. She said she touched your shoulder and you just swung. She jumped out the way, though."

"Oh, God. I almost hit her, Will. Fuck. I'm a horrible brother."

Will sat done next to his brother, despite his sheets being all sweaty. "You are not a horrible brother, far from it. She knows it wasn't you that was doing this. Your mind was somewhere else. Now, do you wanna tell me what happened?"

"It was, it was all because of that damn knife. I don't know why I even kept it in the first place, Will."

"You kept telling someone to let go of him and called someone a bastard. Who?"

"I- There was this kid. His dad was gonna kill him and put a gun to his head. I tried, but I couldn't, I couldn't..." Jay let out a strangled sob and wiped the tears that ran down his face.

Will started to run a hand up and down his back, something he learned long ago that soothed Jay after nights like these. "And the knife?"

"I used that to kill the boy's father. I should have just gotten rid of it when I had the chance."

"Jay, I'm sorry all of this got dug up."

"Yeah, me too. I'm not proud of the man I was back then. I thought I was over this."

"It's okay to fall apart sometimes."

Jay nodded, even though he hated when it happened because the bigger they are, the harder they fall. He bottles up all his emotions that when he finally falls apart, he explodes.

"I think Y/N would want to know you're okay," Will suggested.

You were still in the same position you had been in when Will left you when you heard footsteps approaching you and looked up. Jay's eyes were bloodshot and it was clear as day that he had been crying. You felt the couch dip as Jay sat next to you.

"I'm sorry," Jay said. Slowly, as if not to scare you, he wrapped an arm around your blanket-covered body.

"You scared me," you whispered.

"I know. Will told me. I'm so sorry." He scanned your face, making sure that Will wasn't lying to him when he had told him that he hadn't hit you. "I just need you to know that what you saw, that wasn't me, Y/N. It was my mind bringing me back to a very dark place. I would never, ever, ever knowingly scream at you like that or lay a hand on you."

"I know. You didn't even yell that bad with everything that happened at school today. But, it's all my fault."

"Y/N, look at me." You looked up, your eyes red-rimmed from all the crying. "None of this is your fault. Yes, seeing that knife triggered me. But, I could've just as easily seen it if the box fell over and the knife fell out."

You knew what he was getting at. He was trying to assure you that you and the knife were not what triggered him. It was the knife and the knife only.

"Can Will spend the night?" you asked, knowing that if it happened again, you wouldn't be alone when dealing with it.

"Of course. Now, go back to bed. You've got school tomorrow."

You nodded and stood up, knowing he was right. It was currently 3:30 in the morning and you had been up for an hour and a half and you needed to be awake by 6:00. And, you knew that you needed your focus to be razor sharp at school now that you didn't have any protection.

"Goodnight. I love you guys."

***

The weekend had come and gone and now it was Monday. As much as you hated Mondays, the ones before homecoming were becoming increasingly worse. Everything was fine until you had walked out of school, keys in hand.

"What the fuck?" you yelled as you were slammed into the side of your car, your cheek hitting the window hard.

Then, you felt a hand squeeze your butt. "Fifty points," he whispered in your ear.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt his hand reach for your keys. "Get the fuck away from her, Evans!"

Then, you felt him being ripped off of you, by none other than Jordan Atwater.

"Whatever," Derek Evans grumbled as he shrugged Jordan's hands off him. "I got fifty points and she just went from 200 to 250 for the rest of it." Then, he walked away and Jordan was quickly at your side.

"Are you okay?"

"No," you sniffled.

"Here, let me take you home, and then we can tell Kevin and Jay and they can come get your car."

"No! They can't know about this Jordan and you know that!"

"Y/N, he just did that forcibly and they just increased the point value for..." he trailed off, not wanting to say the disgusting words.

"Jordan, I'm fine. I can handle this."

"Fucking hell, Y/N. Do you know what I heard rumors about in the locker room?" You shook your head, not wanting to know at all, but knowing Jordan would tell you anyway. "He was planning on taking your keys so that you'd have to go with him. Some other guys were planning on following you home tomorrow."

"I can't- I don't know what to do, Jordan. It used to just be a stupid game, but now it's this and- fuck."

"I know, I know. Listen, how about I check on you after practice to make sure no one comes over?"

"Jay grounded me. I'll just get in more trouble if you come over."

"What'd you do?"

"Just something stupid," you answered. You knew that if you told him about the knife, he would most definitely tell Kevin.

He raised an eyebrow at you, but let your lie slide. "You're telling Jay tonight or so help me God, I am telling Kevin tomorrow before school."

"Can I just come over to your house?" you muttered.

Somehow, he heard you. "I thought you said Jay would be mad at you?"

"Then we can tell Kev and if Kev knows first, he can tell Jay because I don't want to be the one to tell him. He'll freak."

"Yeah. Tell you what? I'll pick you up at your house right after practice and then we can go to mine."

"Thanks for having my back, Jordan."

"Hey, that's what friends are for."

***

Jordan sucked in a breath as his phone dinged, alerting him that someone else had posted something on that stupid leaderboard for that stupid game.

"Aren't you gonna get that?" you asked as you sat next to him on the couch, assuming it was a text message notification.

"It's, uh, it's not important."

"If it's a text it's probably important."

Before Jordan even had time to react, you snatched the phone from the table in front of him. But, you quickly regretted your decision as your face paled and tears sprang to your eyes.

"Are they- are they all saying these things about me?" you asked, barely above a whisper as you handed Jordan his phone.

His eyes quickly skimmed the comment on the leaderboard in front of him and he sighed. "I mean, they've said some pretty horrible things, but this is up there with the most disgusting."

"What's most disgusting?" Kevin asked as he walked inside to see you two sitting on the couch, Jordan trying to keep his phone away from you despite you having already seen the comment. "Wait, aren't you grounded, Y/N?"

"Does Jay tell all my business to Intelligence?" you grumbled.

Kevin shrugged as he hung up his jacket. "Pretty much. But really, wat'cha doing here?"

You and Jordan shared a look that didn't go unnoticed by Kevin. "What's going on?"

***

"So you wanted to talk to me first so that I could help you break the news to Jay?" Kevin asked.

"Yeah," you mumbled, shocked by you hadn't broken down yet. It was probably just because you were scared to tell Jay, scared of how he would react to people who were doing this, and scared of how he would react to you not having told him until now.

"Let me call him. I think he still had to finish up some paperwork, so maybe he hasn't noticed that you're gone yet."

Kevin walked away to go talk to Jay in private and Jordan went to the kitchen to grab you both some water. Absentmindedly, you ran your fingers over your cheek, not doubting that there would be a bruise there tomorrow due to how hard Derek shoved you up against your car.

"Need some ice?" Kevin asked, having reentered.

"I'm fine," you quickly said, knowing that Jay and Will would be babying you about your face anyway.

"If you say so."

Jordan returned with the water and slid one to you. "Jay mad?" he asked his older brother.

"I mean, I told him Y/N was over here and that she has something to tell him and to not get mad at her."

"Great, that helps a lot," you replied sarcastically.

"I also told him we might have a case."

"Okay, so he knows it's bad then. I just don't wanna blow this out of proportion--"

"Girl, blow this outta proportion?" Jordan interrupted. "They're planning on assaulting you! I think you can blow this up however much you want!"

"I just don't wanna be the one to start this conversation," you admitted.

"We gotchu, girl, we gotchu," Kevin reassured you.

***

"You better have a good reason why you left the house-- without telling me I might add-- when you're grounded!" That was the first thing Jay yelled as Kevin let him into the house.

"Whoa, calm down, man. She's got a good reason to be here--"

"A good reason? A good reason being that she wanted to hang out with Jordan when I clearly stated that she was to come straight home after school!"

Roughly, he pulled a chair out from under the table to sit down across from you. You stayed staring at the wood of the table, not wanting to look him in the eye. "You have a good reason, Y/N?" he asked smugly. "Then look me in the eye and tell me that reason."

Jordan squeezed your shoulder in reassurance, which gave you the bit of confidence you needed to look your brother in the eyes. "I- there's these points and I was pushed and..." you ran your hands down your face in frustration, trying to stop your tears. "I can't do this."

"Is that a bruise forming on your cheek?" Jay asked as you removed your hands from your face, his eyes immediately softening. You nodded. "Care to elaborate?"

"A football player shoved me up against my car and then he- and then he grabbed my ass."

"Does this football player have a name?" he asked, looking to Jordan because he was on the football team.

"He does, but there's more and I'm gonna tell you that first because I don't think Y/N wants to."

"Thank you," you whispered to Jordan.

"So it's more than just a stupid kid playing grab-ass with my sister?" Jay asked, anger starting to seep out once more.

"There's point values attached to each grab," Jordan started. "Grab a girl, it's usually 50 points. Do some other things with her, there's more depending on what it is. Freshmen are strictly off-limits, so it's Y/N's first year dealing with it."

"How long has it been going on?"

"I think the game started totally five years ago. It happens for a month leading up to homecoming. Anyone on the varsity football team pays $10 to play, and whoever has the most points at the end of the month gets the money.

"And this year, they started a leaderboard online, where you can vote on doing different things. If it gets enough votes, it's up for grabs for points. And well, just take a look."

Jordan slid his open phone to Jay and he scrolled through the website, complete with a leaderboard. He looked at the most recent comments and scrolled to the beginning of the thread.

200 points if you can get the cop's sister to give you oral

Jay swallowed a lump in his throat as he read the title and continued to scroll.

100 for the actual act and another 100 if you get it on video

Deal

Deal

Definitely

Just don't get caught

She's small so it shouldn't be that hard

Think she had a crush on me last year, so this should be a piece of cake. Pay up boys

You're on, Evans

Then, he got to the comments after today's events had occurred.

Grabbed Halstead's ass in the parking lot and was so close to getting her keys, but Atwater stopped me. Buzzkill. It's gettin' close to hoco, so points for her are now up to 250

Eh, I'll just follow her home tomorrow and then get her before her brother gets home

Her lips will probably feel so good wrapped around me

Jay let out a shaky breath as he got to the end of the thread. "You're right, Kev. I think we might have a case on our hands. You wanna go home, Y/N?"

"I'm scared," you said as you looked up at your brother, tears streaming down your face. "What if they come to the house, Jay?"

"Y/N, I promise you that I will never, ever allow that to happen."

***

You were in the shower, but you could still make out the faint sound of Jay's voice. You didn't know who he was talking to, but you assumed it was either Will, Voight, or Hailey.

All the events of the past two weeks came down on you, crushing you like a ton of bricks. You knew this game was going to happen, but what you didn't know was that they going to do that 200, well now 250 points for you. At least, you hadn't known until Jordan told you and begged you to tell someone.

Since the start of this sick, twisted game, you made sure to wear something that always covered your butt, such as a long sweater or hoodie paired with jeans or leggings. But apparently, that didn't stop money-hungry and hormonal teenage boys.

The first time it happened, it was just a quick pinch when you were standing at your locker, nothing too alarming. Hell, you hadn't even known who it was. But then, once the 200 points were on the line, they started getting more and more aggressive, cornering you after lunch or after class, blocking you from exiting the locker bank.

You had heard the whispers of what Derek Evans planned to do, so you took matters into your own hands, hence stealing Jay's knife from the Rangers. People always said to go to the school, that they'd stop if enough people told. But, they never stopped. Girls had tried and tried last year, and nothing happened. Hell, you were so close to talking to the principal but were cornered right before walking into the main office, so you gave up. You figured you could just put up with it until it was over, despite how much anxiety simply going to school was now giving you.

You stepped out of the shower, dried off, and changed into your pajamas. Then, you glanced at yourself in the mirror: puffy and red eyes and cracked lips stared back at you. You hadn't even felt human since this thing started. You felt like a fucking object.

A fucking arcade game that told them that if they tried hard enough they'd win a damn prize.

The gut-wrenching sob that left your lips stopped Jay on his way to the kitchen. Jay made his way to the bathroom and knocked on the door, your sobs still ever-present.

"Y/N, can I come in? Please?" He asked quietly, using the voice he used when he had to talk to children on the job.

"I just wanna be a-alone right now J-Jay," you hiccupped.

Jay sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "You know I can't let you do that. It's not healthy." He didn't get a response, so he just stood outside the bathroom, hoping you'd exit sooner rather than later.

Unfortunately, that didn't happen. And your breathing just got shallower and shallower. "Are you dressed?" he asked.

It took you a moment, but somehow you managed to tell him that you were.

Your vision was starting to go blurry and your feet and fingers were starting to go numb. The sides of your head were pounding so much that you thought it was going to explode.

Jay took a paperclip and unfolded it, then pressed it into the knob until a click was heard. The door was heavier than he had expected, alerting him that you were slumped against it. You felt yourself being pushed forward, but at this point, you didn't even care since you were too focused on not passing out. But, if you did pass out you figured, at least your mind wouldn't wander to all the recent events.

"Y/N, Y/N, open those eyes for me, okay? Just look at me. Focus on me," Jay urged you after he had squeezed himself through the door and was now crouching down in front of you.

"C-Can't-- Open eyes-- hurts," you said through shallow and fast breaths.

"Okay. I'm gonna squeeze your hand. Just focus on the touch and try and follow my breathing."

"What-- if I-- pass-- out?"

"I won't let that happen. Now in, out, in, out. Good. Now I'm gonna add a second. In, out, in, out..."

You continued to focus on Jay's voice as you slowly but surely started to regain feeling in your feet and fingers.

"Can you open your eyes for me?" Jay asked, once your breathing had returned to a semi-normal state for a few cycles. Slowly, you opened your eyes but quickly closed them. "Head still hurt?"

"Yeah."

"That'll happen when not enough oxygen gets to the brain. You can even ask Will to fact check me." You heard the doorbell ring. "Speaking of Will..."

"You didn't."

"But I did. He brought food, too."

"Jay? Y/N? You here?" you heard Will yell from down the hallway after he entered the house.

"Bathroom!" Jay replied, causing you to wince due to how close he was to your ear. "Sorry."

"What the hell happened?" Will asked as he rushed to crouch down in front of you, going into doctor mode when he saw your eyes were clenched shut. There was a pause as Jay mouthed panic attack to his older brother. "Okay, well I'm gonna go get you some water, hopefully that'll make your head stop hurting and then I'll check out that cheek of yours."

"Do you have to?" you whined.

"Kid, one day you'll thank me for this."

"I doubt it," you mumbled.

Will came back with a glass of water and slid it into your hand, making sure that your hand was firmly wrapped around it before letting go. After waiting about a minute after you'd finished the water, you opened your eyes.

"Better?" Will asked.

"Better," you confirmed. "Thanks."

"That's what big brothers are for."

"So that means you don't have to go all doctor on me?"

"Ha, that was funny. Now, sit on the counter so I can take a look."

You pushed yourself off the floor and then onto the counter, Jay standing up after you to stand next to Will. Great, now you had two worried older brothers both looking at the same thing. At least they weren't both doctors.

"Damn, it's already bruising," Jay said as he looked on.

Will hand gently touched your cheek. "Tell me if anywhere hurts." He touched from your jaw up to your cheek bone, but the only place you told him that hurt was between the two and a bit at the bottom of your cheek bone.

"You're lucky," Will started, "You hit it just a bit higher I might have to take you in for x-rays to make sure you didn't bruise or fracture your cheek bone."

"No hospital?" you asked hopefully.

"No hospital," Will confirmed. "Just lots of ice."

"Come on, let's go get that food Will brought before it gets too cold...and the beer for me and him gets warm."

***

You walked into Intelligence with Jay the next morning, trying to think of anything but the worried looks you were getting. "It's okay to be scared," Jay told you, giving your shoulder a squeeze. "And, I'll be there the whole time."

"Do you have to?" you asked him.

"Because you're a minor and I'm your legal guardian, they can't talk to you unless I'm there. So, yes, I have to be with you."

"Hailey," Voight's raspy voice carried through the bullpen. "You go talk to Y/N. Ruzek, go talk to Jordan."

"Jordan's here?" you asked, looking up at Jay.

"Yeah. Kevin wanted him to give a statement, too. Said he can attest to all the stuff that was said in the locker room."

"Oh." You didn't want to think about the things that were said. If you thought what they were posting was bad, what they talked about in the locker room you knew would be ten times worse.

You followed Hailey into the breakroom. Despite being here dozens of times before, it felt odd to you this time, eerie, as it was waiting to gobble up your deepest and darkest secrets and fears and share them with the world.

Hailey sat across from you and Jay sat next to you. "Jay, I need you to read this over and sign it since Y/N's a minor." She slid two pieces of paper over to him and he glanced at them and quickly scribbled his signature.

Hailey gave him a look that said you're not gonna read it? "I've told parents what this says before. I know the drill." Hailey nodded and took the papers from him.

"Start from the beginning, Y/N. What happened with Derek Evans?" Hailey prompted.

"I have a question." Here goes nothing. Hailey nodded at you to continue while Jay furrowed his eyebrows. He had been over how this was going to work with you before you even stepped out of the house this morning to try and ease your nerves. "Does it matter?"

"Does what matter? What he did to you? Of course, it does," Hailey answered.

"No, sorry. That came out wrong. "Does it matter that I had a crush on him last year...and kinda into this year." The crush only lasted two months into this school year though, when you found out he had cheated on his current girlfriend. But last year, oh last year your crush was in full swing and you took every opportunity you could to talk to the then junior, and there was no fooling anyone in that school that you had been head over heels for him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not following," Hailey apologized.

"Since I had a crush on him and he knew it, couldn't he take that as I wanted this?"

"No. It's only consent if both parties agreed to it."

"But maybe me having a crush on him would make him think that."

Now, it was Jay's turn to speak. "Did you take health class yet?"

"No, I take it next semester. Why?"

"The teacher will talk about consent there, but I guess we're doing it now." He looked at Hailey to make sure this was okay and she nodded at him to continue. "What do you think has to happen for someone to not consent?"

"One of them has to say no or stop."

"Is that the only way to be sure?"

"I mean, I guess."

"See, that's where you're wrong. It's not consent if you slap his hand away. It's not consent if you're too drunk to say yes. Same for drugs. It's not consent if you're coerced into it. And, consent can be revoked at any time. Any time. To keep it simple for you to remember right now, it's only consent if you and him both said yes to this. And, I know you didn't say yes to what happened to you and what they were threatening to do to you."

"So, even though I didn't say stop or no right away when he pushed me up against my car and grabbed me, I still wasn't consenting?" you asked.

"No," Hailey answered. "Did he ask to grab your butt?"

"No."

"Therefore, there was no consent involved."

There was a knock on the door and Hailey got up to answer it. "Halstead, a word," Voight ordered, motioning for him to follow.

Jay glanced at you. "Hey, don't worry, kid. Everything will work out one way or another."

Jay followed Voight into his office and closed the door. "What's up, Sarge?"

"The kid who grabbed your sister, well he's 18, Jay. Just turned 18 last month."

"So, we can press more charges?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Since all we have are threats and Y/N's and Jordan's word against his, most we can do is forcible touching. If he had acted on the threat, then that'd be a different story."

"So, you're saying that she had to be forced to have oral sex with this ass to press more charges? The threats aren't enough? Even though we clearly have proof of the threats from that goddamn leaderboard."

"I know it's not ideal--"

Jay threw his hands up. "Ideal? It's ridiculous!"

Voight was about to say something, but was stopped by a knock on his office door. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Boss, we got a problem," Ruzek said as he entered.

"What type of problem?"

"The Evans kid? Yeah, well his dad's the president of the school board."

"You're kidding."

"Wish I was, Boss."

"Jay, go see if Y/N knew about this. The rest of us are gonna figure out how to proceed with this new information."

Jay was about to enter the breakroom, when his phone buzzed. It was Will.

Any news? the text read.

Other than the fact that the Evans kid's dad is the president of the school board and we only have enough to get him on forcible touching, no nothing new.

Jay didn't even think about the fact that he was sharing information about an open investigation. To him, this was just him talking to his brother about the case that involved his sister.

Jay held down the power button to turn his phone off and then walked back into the breakroom. "Anything?" Hailey asked.

"Uh, yeah. But let's finish interviewing Y/N first. I know we had to stop since I left."

Jay sat back down next to you and Hailey started questioning you once again.

"Did you know that this game was going to happen?" Hailey asked.

"Yeah, that's why I started wearing long sweaters and hoodies, to try and cover up my butt."

"Okay, and when it start to turn into more than grabs?"

"Um, one day Jordan called me after school and he told me that Derek was planning to get me to..." you trailed off, not wanting to say it.

"I know you think it's disgusting to say, Y/N, but I need you to say what he said to you."

You looked up at Jay, feeling like a five-year-old who was about to say a swear word. "It's okay. We won't laugh or get mad."

"He uh, Jordan told me that Derek was going to get me to give him a blowjob...even if he had to force me to do it."

A few tears ran down your face. Even though your brother was a cop, telling the actual cops in an actual statement made it that much more real.

"Do you want a break? Some water maybe?" Hailey asked.

"No, I'm fine. I just wanna get this over with."

"Okay. Did anyone try and tell the principal? Any teachers? Other adults?"

"Girls tried, they really did. They told Mr. White, the principal, but he said that they didn't have any proof. And, he also said that they were football players and that some of them had shots at scholarships for D1 schools. Why would we want to wreck that for them, is what he had asked us. And, Derek's dad is on the school board, so we knew that even if it went further than the principal and to the superintendent or school board, that nothing would happen.

"I was gonna try to tell Mr. White once, but I was cornered before I got into the main office, so I was scared."

You turned to Jay now. "I'm sorry. I should've told you when this all started but I didn't want to get made fun of or have more things happen at school because what if they canceled football and it was all my fault and--"

"You need to remember that you did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing, you hear me?" you nodded. "And what White did, basically saying that boys will be boys, that makes me sick. And if I had a way to arrest him, I would."

"Thanks, Jay."

A comfortable silence fell over you before you explained everything else, like Derek shoving you against your car and forcibly grabbing your ass. You also explained how Jordan had said that he was planning on taking your keys so you'd have to have oral with him to get them back and how other players were planning on following you home.

After that, you were out in the bullpen, when Trudy Platt came up the stairs. "Hank, Halstead, I need you to go this address."

Platt handed Voight a piece of paper, which you're assuming had the address on it. "Why? This doesn't have to do with our case. Couldn't patrol do it?"

"I don't think Halstead would be pleased if I put his brother in lockup, so I figured I'd have you two go check it out," she answered.

"What did Will do?" you piped up before Jay could.

"Let's just say him and Derek Evans each got a few punches in," Trudy answered. "I thought you two could be the ones to go down and get him."

"Thanks, Trudy," Voight said as he started to walk downstairs. But, he stopped when he noticed that Jay wasn't following.

"Uh, Hailey," Jay called. "Could you maybe take Y/N to Will's house while I do this? I just don't want her at home in case they somehow got our address."

"Yeah, no problem," Hailey answered, taking the spare key Jay handed her.

You four walked down the stairs and then each headed your separate ways. Once Jay and Voight were in the car, Voight turned to him. "Care to tell me how Will found the name and address?"

"Sarge, I have absolutely no idea." And then he remembered the text he sent. "Oh, oh shit. Listen, it was an accident. He asked me if we had any new information, and I told him that Derek was 18 and he must've just went from that. Sorry, I wasn't thinking. To me, this isn't just an investigation, it's an investigation that involves my sister and I was just giving information to my brother without thinking about the legal ramifications."

"I get it, Jay. I did the same thing with Justin."

"Are we really arresting him?"

"No, but we are gonna have a chat with Derek and his father."

***

"I want to press charges!" Derek Evans' dad yelled when Jay and Hank rolled up to the scene. "This man assaulted my son!"

"Yeah? Well, your son assaulted my sister, so I think it's even!" Will spat back.

"Let's just take a moment to talk this out," Voight said, stepping between the two.

"I won't talk until you put this man in handcuffs!"

Voight turned and nodded at Jay. "Sarge, you can't be--"

"I am serious, Jay. Now do it and bring him to the car. Now."

Jay gritted his teeth and put Will's hands behind his back. "You have the right to right to remain silent. If you give up this right, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. If you do not have the money to afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been told to you?" Jay recited as he led Will to the car.

"Yes. Jay, what are you--"

"Just go with it," Jay hissed in his ear, causing his older brother to shut up.

Jay put Will in the back of the car and then got in the passenger seat. "Now, in a second I'm going to take these off and then I'm gonna go inside and talk to them with Voight. Do not, under any circumstances, get out of the car. You understand me?"

"Yeah, now can you get these off me? You put 'em on real tight, Jay."

Jay smirked as he took Will out of the car and undid his cuffs. "Payback for all the times you poked me with a needle." Then, he looked at Will's face. "Looks like the kid got a few good punches on you. There's gonna be a real nice shiner there," he joked.

"Shut up and go finish your job." Will rolled his eyes as Jay put the cuffs back in his pocket and left Will in the car.

When Jay walked into the Evans' residence he saw Derek, Derek's dad, and Hank all sitting down at the kitchen table. "Now, we know that your son has threatened to force himself on a girl at school, so this can go one of two ways," Voight started as Jay stood behind him. "We can either contact the media and tell them all about this little game he and his teammates like to play, but that he took a step too far, which would ensure he doesn't get into a good college. Or, you could transfer him out of his current high school and to a new one and this doesn't get out to the press. Your choice."

"You don't have enough to charge him, so why would I pull my son out of school his senior year?"

"Because, once word gets out, well no college wants a guy with a history of sexual assault on their football team. It sets a bad image."

"It's not like I even did anything!" Derek protested, while still trying to hold the ice pack to his lip that Will had busted open.

"Oh, didn't do anything? Let me enlighten you. You got the pictures, Sarge?" Jay asked.

"Got 'em right here."

Voight laid all the pictures of the leaderboard and the messages about you on the table. "The girl who Derek said he wanted to get oral sex from? That guy in the back of our car right now is her brother. Now, do you understand why the fight broke out, Mr. Evans?"

Derek's dad looked back and forth between the pictures and his son, trying to figure out how his son could do this. "Derek, did you say these things?"

"Oh, he did more than say. He slammed the girl up against her car and forcibly grabbed her backside," Jay said, not wanting to admit he was your brother or else there would be a conflict of interest in this encounter. And, even though Derek knew, Jay was the one with a gun so he figured the best idea would be to not piss him off.

Voight laid the picture of your bruised cheek on the table. "This is what happened because of that. She's lucky she didn't break her cheekbone."

"I'm- I'm sorry," Derek finally spoke up. "It was just supposed to be a fun game that we bet some money on who could get the most points."

"A game? A game is football. This is bordering on assault. We are far from a game," Jay told him.

"So, what's it gonna be? Take Derek out of school and transfer him or do I call the media? You have five seconds," Voight told him, pulling out his phone to silently tell them that he wasn't bluffing.

Derek's eyes widened. "I'll transfer! I'll transfer!"

"Derek, we need time to think about this--"

"No, Dad, I need a shot at a scholarship to go D1."

"Then it's settled. Thank you for your time."

Jay and Voight left the house and went back to the car. "What's the verdict?" Will asked.

"He's transferring schools," Voight answered and handed the folder of evidence photos to Jay.

"Why are you giving these to me?"

Voight shrugged. "Do with them what you want, Halstead. I wouldn't blame you, no one would."

***

"Hailey, can you give me and Y/N a second?" Jay asked as you entered you house and shrugged off your coats.

"Of course."

"You can stay out here. We'll talk in Y/N's room," Jay said.

You walked down the hall and went into your room and sat on your bed. "So, what's up? Did you arrest Derek?"

"Unfortunately, we didn't have enough evidence to do that."

You looked down at your hands. "But then it's just gonna keep happening, Jay. I don't wanna go back there."

"Back where?" he asked, sitting next to you.

"To school, it'll just be worse."

"Hey, no it won't because he's transferring schools."

"But the other boys will just keep doing it, Jay. I'm terrified."

"Hey, hey look at me." You looked up at Jay, trying to stop yourself from crying. "That will not happen, I can promise you that."

"But you don't know that."

"Just trust me on this one."

"Okay," you whispered.

"And one more thing," Jay started. "If it didn't already go without saying, you're ungrounded because I'm assuming you brought that knife to school to use in case anything happened. And, with what happened yesterday, I can't say I blame you."

"Thanks, I figured as much."

"Now, next time you need something for self-defense, we're just gonna get you some pepper spray."

"Good idea."

"Let's go back out to Hailey and you two can look at Pinterest or whatever for dresses or whatever it is girls do with that stuff."

***

The next morning, you woke up to message after message about school. There were links sent you entitled Football Player Assaults Girl Outside of School Because of a Bet and Principal of a Chicago High School Resigns Because of Complaints from Girls about the Football Team Sexually Harassing Them, but He Didn't do Anything about It.

You could not believe it. Just 48 hours ago you were freaking out about having to go to school for fear of a guy grabbing you or doing something worse. And now, you could go to school and feel comfortable. And, those boys wouldn't do anything else and if something did happen, you'd be able to tell the assistant principal--who was now acting principal--about what was happening and have something actually be done about it.

"Jay!" you yelled as you ran into the kitchen, almost bumping into him.

"Whoa, slow down! I almost spilled hot coffee on you!" he laughed as he set his mug down on the table and turned back to you.

"Sorry, sorry. Have you seen this? Someone leaked the leaderboard and now Mr. White resigned! I'll actually be able to focus in class now!" You slid the phone to him and he looked at the titles in the notifications. "I just wonder who did it."

"Told you I'd handle it." Then, he took a sip of his coffee.

"Oh my God, you were the one who leaked it?" Your eyes almost popped out of your head. Couldn't that get him in trouble?

"I never said that."

"You just sipped your coffee like that Kermit and the sips tea meme, so yeah, I think you did," you playfully argued.

"Well, technically, it wasn't me. I just passed on a copy of the pictures to a CI of mine, whose cousin happens to work for the Chicago Sun-Times."

"Bye-bye college football for all these assholes."

"And the city's a safer place because of it."

"Hey, what do I always say: Go save Chicago."

"Team effort. And this time, Y/N, you got to play a part in that team."

A/N: I know it's been almost a month since I've posted an imagine, but school is busy and I'm writing long imagines, which usually take me a week to write, so that's why.  Oh, and happy Valentine's Day (bc that's in like 2 days). Go cuddle with your boyfriend/girlfriend if you have one. Or, if you're single (like me) go read some cute fluffy fanfiction and eat all the chocolate!

[warpriest-writings]

Red eyes on Grandmother's grave. 

    Sticks broke under her feet, running as fast and hard as she could but it felt like running through jelly, her feet caked in heavy mud. 

“Someone! Help me!!! Please!” She cried out but couldn’t hear her own voice.

Before her was the pair of sharp, red eyes out in the middle distance. She couldn’t make out a face; she wasn’t even sure if the eyes were attached to anythin, just floating there, haunting her. Those hungry, starved eyes that wanted to devour her. The eyes just hung there as she sat there frozen. 

“What do you want!?” she screamed out, but again her words came out silent. 

The sharp, red eyes narrowed, then rushed towards her as a hand reached out at her.

With a difficult, almost pained, inhalation of breath, Patsy woke with a startled jump, accidently knocking her kitty out of bed.

She gasped, “Bean! Come here. Mweh, mweh.” She made kissy noises to her large Maine Coon. Rubbing her fingers together as she did so attempting to soothe Bean and entice her to come back into the bed. Not that Bean needed much convincing; no one in the Desoto household could remember a single night that cat hasn’t slept in Patsy’s bed. By the time she got Bean back in bed and started petting her, Patsy had almost entirely forgotten her nightmare about the...was she running? Regardless, after several minutes of kitty snuggles, she checked her phone, loathing to discover that it was 5:53, merely thirty minutes before her alarm would have gone off anyway.

Of course, she wouldn’t have been lucky enough to wake up from her scary dream at a reasonable 1:17, or even a moderate 3:32. Good, god given times in the early morning a girl could go back to sleep too. Patsy sighed and entered an anxious state of contemplation, debating getting in the shower now and getting that out of her morning routine or laying there, blissfully enjoying the time before she had to get up for real. An absolute miserable time that went on in her head until her alarm went off. Ah, yes, neither productive nor relaxing. Thank you, Anxiety.

Getting out of bed with a less than encouraging groan, Patsy began her morning routine. Feeling emotionally and mentally exhausted by 6:45 AM, Patsy walked briskly down the stairs while putting her long and bouncy kinky hair into a ponytail.

“Morning, Mom!” 

Her mom, Elana, looked back at her as some toast popped out of the toaster, “Hey, Sweetheart!”

Joseph, her dad, poured two cups of coffee before handing one to his wife as she handed him the plate of now buttered toast. “Hey, Pats. Finished your homework last night?” Giving Elana a quick kiss.

“Course, Dad,” she said, silently beaming that her parents were still happily married after nearly sixteen years; it was more than could be said about several of her friends at school.

Her mother was the manager at a local small diner, it was a nice little place, near enough to her school that Patsy would usually walk there at the end of the day and hang out with her friends or finish her homework before her mom’s shift ended at six when the night manager came in. Her father worked from home, and studied. Technically, he was still a student at the University of Illinois, but he worked a lot of sub contracted programming and coding jobs on the side. Once she asked him why he was still in college and his reply was, “Sometimes people are just...nervous about getting out there, and sometimes you just so happen to be very good at filling out grant applications. Your momma has a steady job that takes care of us, and my work on the side makes sure we stay in the green.” 

“Need a ride to school today, Pats?” her dad said, snapping Patsy out of it.

“I’m good; I kinda want some time to just think,” she told him.

“It’d be nothing, it’s getting colder out and I love driving my babygirl to-”

“Joseph,” her mother interrupted.

He backed down, “Alright, alright. Letting Pats be all independent.” 

“Thanks, Dad. I think I’ll have breakfast at school today, I’m going to get going,” Patsy said.

Joseph began reaching into his pocket, “Need money?”

“I’m good, I still have twenty from helping out at the diner.”

“Now hold on, that’s your money. It’s our job to feed you,” he said, and offered her a five, “Take it, and make sure you grab an apple or an orange or something those school food scientist freaks can’t turn into half-baked prison sloop."

Patsy nodded, “Okay, okay.” She took the money, then gave her dad a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “Love you, mom. Love you, dad.” Then grabbed her backpack from a kitchen table chair and made her way to the door, only partially catching what her dad was saying about Patsy being braver than he was for voluntarily eating school food.

From her house it was roughly a twenty-minute walk to school. Normally, she would have jumped at the opportunity for a quick ride to school, but her mind was still preoccupied by that dream. Most of it was lost, faded just beyond her consciousness’s reach. Those red eyes; Patsy could still see them crystal clearly in her mind. She could almost feel them on her back now. Patsy shuttered at the thought.

As she walked she barely heard the wizzing of bike tires until they were right behind her, lost in her thoughts Patsy made a sound reminiscent of an “Eek!” and jumped off to the grass beside the sidewalk. The biker slowed to a stop, “Miss. Pascala, are you alright?”

He knew her name? Patsy looked at the biker, as she had been largely looking at her moving feet up until that point and the fact that from her perspective the biker was right in front of the morning sun, she had to squint and couldn’t really make out his face, “Uh, yes. I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Hmm?” he took off his helmet, revealing quite the head of curly locks, “Miss. Pascala, a little out of it this morning?”

As her eyes adjusted she suddenly realized, “OH! Mr. Morales, sorry. It was all sunny, and I was kinda lost in my thoughts, and I’ll just stop talking now.”

Her history teacher looked at her with a bit of a raised eyebrow, “I shall see you in the third period, Miss. Pascala, have a pleasant walk. Homework is due by the end of class.” He awkwardly coughed and rode off, quickly moving into the bicycle lane of the road.

Sometime later, after what is by all rights and definitions a poor excuse of a breakfast that would send Mr. DeSoto into a rambling state of disbelief that this was the best that taxpayer money could do for feeding America’s youth, as well as Patsy’s first hour math class (math first period of the day, she was convinced that the school gods hated her) and her second period economics class where they learned..something, Patsy was sure of that. She remembers taking notes and everything. There was a presentation with slides and everything, so they must have learned something...So after econ was her history class with Mr. Morales.

She liked Mr. Morales, more than her math teacher that’s for sure. “Math is the language of the universe.” She was taking English and French and frankly didn’t feel like she had time for a third language course. Mr. Morales was different, he got swept away with the subject sometimes and seemed to have a real love for it.

“We can learn much from history, but the people who made it weren’t trying to teach morals, and they weren’t thinking about just how important that what they were doing took place in 1776, or during the first or second half of the twelfth century. The past is made up of the actions of people who were concerned with living their lives, and if what they were doing was the right thing to do, or the right thing for them.” Mr. Morales said on the first day of school. He was also just a bit odd. His thick curly hair, a trait he described as indicative of his strong greek heritage, was peppered ever so slightly. Otherwise he held onto his youth remarkably well. looking closer to mid twenties rather than late thirties.

After the class ended, Patsy went up to her teacher, “Uh, Sir, excuse me.”

Mr. Morales looked up from his tablet from which he often powered through novels, “Hmm, yes, Miss. Pascala?”

“I was just going over that pop quiz you handed back today and I would have gotten one hundred percent if you didn’t mark my answer for question two wrong.” She said,

He set his tablet down, “That is usually how people do not get full marks. Allow me to double check that.” He held his hand open.

Patsy handed him the paper, “You see, I’m certain the correct answer is B and I’d like to get full credit.”

“Third century B.C. Yes, you are correct. I’ll be sure to update the gradebook and parent portal to reflect this. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Miss. Pascala, I imagine I marked everyone else who answered as you did as incorrect as well.”

He handed her back the quiz after remarking her score and immediately wrote a note he then stuck to his computer monitor.

She excused herself and left with a bright smile, making her way to her next class, and then on and so forth with her day. As she was heading towards her computer typing class after lunch (which was not notably better than the breakfast, it is a wonder that these children survive long enough to eat microwaved ramen in college dorms.) She accidentally bumped into the Principle as she was turning a corner.

“Ooft!” She said, feeling like she walked into a lumpy brick wall.

Principal Robertson cleared his throat and looked down his nose at the young lady, “It is not becoming to run down the hails and blindly around corners.”

He had been the principal at her school for well over fifteen years now, and he seemed to live for it. Participating in school spirit events and playing along with the dress up days, at least he did last year. No one wanted to really mention it but over the summer he lost a lot of weight and his skin got paler...greyer was almost more accurate. Hushed rumors said he was diagnosed with some cancer or another but refused to stop working while on chemo and Patsy wasn’t sure what to think of it all. Looking down at her now she wasn’t feeling very comfortable.

“I, uh, I really need to get to class.” Patsy said

The sickly Principal sighed a heavy breath, “Just slow down.”

“Right, of course. Thank you Mr. I mean, Principal Robertson.” With that she took off, carefully walking not-to-quickly.

Passing around the next corner and with her computer lab in sight Patsy let out her own sigh of relief. The bell ringing just steps away, “Whyyyyyyy?” Patsy said in a hushed, exasperated tone.

She quickly rushed into the room and to her seat, hoping maybe she wouldn’t be marked late. The class lesson began and she got to work with her typing program. 

“Hey, Patsy,” Her friend Abby said, “Think your mom would give me a ride home after her shift at the dinner?”

“Course, Abbs.” She replied, “You getting anywhere with these?”

“Not really, my hands know the keyboard but my words per minute is garbage.” Abby said.

“My words per minute is fine, but I have to force myself to type the way that we’re supposed to. It doesn’t help that at home I always just type with my pointer and middle fingers.”

“You type a lot at home?” She asked, “Are you writing something?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin, “No! of course not...I just look up a lot of random stuff when I’m bored.” She must never know.

Abby raised an eyebrow, “Mhm, right.” 

Over the intercom the school receptionist called out, “Pascala DeSoto to the Principal’s office, Pascala DeSoto to the Principal’s office.

Abby winced, and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

She tried to return it, her thoughts were racing. Surely she wasn’t being called down to the Office for accidentally bumping into the Principal in the hallway was she? Why wouldn’t he just take her there right after she did it then? Maybe it wasn’t about anything she did at all. Oh God...what if her dad accidentally started another grease fire trying to make home fries? What if Mom got into an accident on her way to the dinner? Her mind was a beehive that someone just punted halfway across a football field. 

The receptionist must have noticed the worry on her face and gave her a very sweet smile, “Don’t worry about it too much, Sweetie. Just keep your chin up and remember none of this will matter in ten years.” Reassuring words, either her parents were fine or she was just as unsure why she called down Patsy as she was herself.

Bracing herself mentally, Patsy opened the door and pushed it to the magnetic door stopper that held it open.

“Closer the door behind you, Miss. DeSoto.” Principal Robertson said.

Her stomach did an uncomfortable flip, she wasn’t sure why she was feeling so destressed over this. She hadn’t done anything as far as she could remember or mentally justify. She closed the door, getting a last glimpse of Mrs. O'Riley, the nice receptionist.

Run! Every nerve in her body screamed out but she moved forward to sit in the chair opposite Principal Robertson at his desk anyway. He spoke up; she only saw his lips move, the words not landing correctly in her ears.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Could you say that again?” She asked.

His brow furrowed, “I do not care for repeating myself, Miss. Desoto.”

She sank in the chair. “Sorry.”

“And do not mumble. Speak clearly or not at all!” 

Patsy sat back up in her seat in shock, “Principal Robertson, I don’t think you’re allowed to speak to me like that.”

“Do not speak back to me, you’re the one in trouble here.” He said venomously.

Trembling she stood up, “I need to go.”

He got up as well, “I think not, DeSoto. You’ve been hiding really well, tricked everyone but not me.” He licked his upper lip.

A full body chill ran through her entire being and oddly, in retrospect she felt, Patsy really wanted her kitty Bean there. She said, “Principal Robertson, you can’t be serious right now!? Think….think about your wife!”

Robertson frowned hideously, “That bint isn’t important.” He smiled, which was so much more disturbing to the young lady, “not like you, DeSoto, you have been worth all of my effort and patience.”

He reached out for her when the door opened, “Principal Robertson,” called out an all too reassuring voice, “I was wondering if you had the chance to look over those field trip papers I….” His hand less than two inches away from her, Patsy’s whole body was trembling but she couldn’t make her legs run.

Mr. Morales stood in the open doorway, his eyes moving quickly from Patsy to Robertson. “Miss. Pascala, behind me.” He said putting himself between them.

The Principal scowled in frustration, “I’m not entirely sure what you think you are doing, Linus. You are acting like I am some sort of threat to the girl.”

“This doesn’t look good, James.” Mr. Morales replied.

Robertson scowled deeper, and Patsy in that moment of fear and confusion thought his scowl pulled unnaturally at his skin. 

Mr. Morales raised his hands defensively, “What are you?” Striking a serious tone with his voice that she had never heard from her history teacher before. It was a cold voice that set her skin on edge almost as much as Principal Robertson had.

Before her eyes the late fifties Principal of clear declining health grabbed Mr. Morales  and threw him against a glass case containing various trophies for academic and sports accomplishments. Patsy left out a loud scream and Mrs. O’Riley’s own scream wasn’t far behind. 

Later the police officers that responded to the Receptionist's call would ask Patsy what happened next, and she told them the truth. It all happened so fast she wasn’t sure what exactly happened. Mr. Morales, who had bruised ribs, and some cuts from the glass but was thankfully otherwise alright, shouted something that didn’t make sense to her at Robertson and the Principal ran off. She didn’t get to hear what Mr. Morales told them but they questioned him for a good long while. 

School was cancelled early and parents were furiously calling the school board and the district for answers. There was a warrant issued for Robertson, and some people were threatening to pull their kids altogether. No one wants their kids to go to the school where the principal threatened a fifteen year old girl and assaulted a teacher. 

Superintendent Wilkens sent a parent portal wide email that a warrant was formally filed against Mr. Robertson and the police had opened an investigation. In addition to Resource Officer Thomas three more Iron county police officers would be stationed at the school for security and rest assured that school would be open again Friday.

“No, no...this is ridiculous. My daughter was threatened by that man.” Patsy’s dad said to the Superintendent’s secretary. “Don’t put me on hold! ….Yes, I believe that you do have another call coming in. I….” he sighed heavily, and tossed his cellphone into the living room sofa.

“Sweetheart.” Elana said, putting her hands tenderly on Joseph’s shoulders.

“We worked with that man in the ice cream socal last year, Laney.”

Just out of their sight, sitting against the hallway wall Patsy hugged Bean. Now more than ever the tridactyl kitty gave her some comfort. She kept replaying it over in her mind, Robertson’s face looked so...uncanny valley. Elana had tried to reassure her that it was just her mind playing tricks on her, wanting to think that he was somehow less than human because of how he was acting. 

Her phone buzzed, touching the wall it tapped rapidly and loudly and Patsy reactively tried to grab it before her parents noticed.

“Pats? Babygirl, I thought you were laying down.” Her dad said, walking over to her, flipping the hallway light on. “Well, I thought you were scrolling through your phone, pretending to be laying down.”

She gave Bean a little squeeze like when she was littler, “I tried, but I couldn’t take a nap.”

“It’s okay, Pats. How'bout I make up some of my famous root beer floats?”

She slowly nodded, “That would be good.”

“Come on, Patsy.” Elana said, “We can sit at the table while your father makes us a feel better treat.” 

She got up and walked over to the kitchen table, Bean closely trailing her like always. “Hey, think I could maybe sleep in your guys' bed tonight?”

Elana quickly glanced at her husband, the pair of them sharing a whole conversation in a moment.

“Of course, Pats.” Her dad said, “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“It’ll be like when you crawled in my bed when you were little after a nightmare woke you up.” Elana said.

Her father was scooping ice cream into three tall milkshake glasses as Patsy pulled Elana into a hug, “Thank you for being my mom.” she said softly.

Elana returned the hug, remembering the first time Patsy told that to her and felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She was Pascala's mom, there wasn’t any doubt of that. She didn’t give birth to Patsy though. Her birth mom and Joseph’s first wife passed away when she was less than six months old, an oncoming driver didn’t stop at the red light as she was going through the intersection on her way home from work. Elana was her birth mother’s best friend and Patsy’s godmother. After the funeral she just kept helping Joseph out with Patsy, eventually moving in with them. Joseph and Elana married when she was seven, but she had really always been her mom.

As frustrated as he was with the situation, Joseph did his best to cool down and help Patsy feel better, telling his corny dad jokes he spent hours and hours looking up at his computer desk. 

He spent almost a half hour that night checking and double checking that every door and window was locked that night, as well as making sure their security system was armed. Unlike Patsy, who almost couldn’t sleep without Bean snuggled next to her, Elana found the heavy cat overly warm but she gritted her teeth through it for Patsy’s sake.

The next morning, Thursday, the day after her high school Principal threatened her, assaulted a teacher and just disappeared. She woke up to the smell of her dad making eggs, over cooking them. Elana always made them a little runny. Everything seemed to run by a little slowly. Like she had been jerked out of a deep daydream and couldn’t pull herself entirely out of her own head.

Around noon she and her mom were watching a cartoon as Joseph entered the room on the phone, “I see, well, thank you, Linus. Yes? I’ll ask her now, we were planning on going to the diner for lunch anyway.” He pulled the phone slightly away from his face and turned to the pair on the sofa, “Pats, Mr. Morales is out of the hospital. He asked if it would be alright if he met us at the diner today.”

She let out a huge sigh of relief hearing he was out, that meant he was okay, “Yeah, that sounds good!”

Joseph put the phone back to his face, “She’s okay with it. We’ll see you there at one. Yep, bye, it was good hearing from you too. And...thank you, Linus.” he hung up and put his phone into his pocket. “He said the superintendent pushed the school’s opening back to Monday, I guess we angry few can make a difference.”  

Elana pulled her legs onto the sofa and sat cross legged, turning towards him, “That’s great! I think that’s what WIlken’s should have done from the start, but hey. So we’ll be eating with Patsy’s english teacher?”

“History teacher.” Patsy said, correcting her.

“Linus is also one of my work associates, but yes. He just wants to check in with Pats.”

She nodded, “Alright, I’m going to take a quick shower before we go.” 

She gave Joseph a quick kiss on the cheek as she left the room, her husband replacing her spot on the sofa.

Patsy gave her dad a big hug. “So Mr. Morales is alright?”

“Some cuts and bruises but he sounded alright, he didn’t talk about himself much.” Joseph said.

Before long they were sitting down as Margret, one of the servers at the diner, was bringing over a pot of coffee for Joseph and Elana and a Shirley temple for Patsy. “Hey, Patsy.” the retirement age waitress said, “How’re you holding up?”

“I’m okay, Margret.” She said, putting on a cheerful voice.

“That’s the spirit, I’ll be sure to bring you over the biggest slice of cake.” She said

“Yay cake!”

Elana laughed a little, “We’re going to wait to order, Margie. We’re waiting on another person.”

The older waitress nodded her head slightly, “Sounds good, Laney. I’ll be back in two shakes with your refreshments.” With that she was off to serve some of the other customers, or guests as corporate would like they be referred to.

The three of them chatted while they waited for Mr. Morales, while they did Patsy’s thoughts drifted to the bizarre notion that when you see someone you only ever see at school, or school related events that when you see them out and about in everyday life the person is suddenly almost unrecognizable. Like in those children sitcom shows where someone says “Wait, you mean teachers don’t live at school??” or something else mildly insulting to the audience about their perceived intelligence. Still, Patsy wondered if it was going to be super weird seeing Mr. Morales not just outside of school, but on purpose outside of school. He normally dressed in clean but not ironed dress pants and some sort of long sleeved shirt, either a button up or a sweater; would he be wearing a rock and roll band t shirt and shorts? What if he wears his curly hair in a manbun outside of work? The horror.

It was almost a disappointment when Mr. Morales showed up in tan dress pants and a blue sweater, as well as a sling that held his left arm, some bandaging on his cheek with some purplish bruising around its edges.

“Linus,” her dad said, “Glad you could make it.”

“We’re both just so grateful for what you did yesterday.” Elana said as her husband scooted further into the booth, making room for him.

“Oh, I only did what any good samaritan should have in the situation.” Mr. Morales said, sitting down. “Ah!” He smiled at the pot of coffee sitting on the table, “May I? I’m afraid I skipped my usual morning cup...come to think of it, skipped most of my usual morning routine today.” 

“Go ahead, refills are free.” Patsy said.

“Are they?” He asked with a smile, awkwardly pouring himself a hot cup.

Margret returned, prompting her mom to say that they’ll probably need a few minutes for Mr. Morales to decide what he wants.

“Oh, go ahead.” The teacher reassured, “ I know what I want, a short stack of pancakes, and two pieces of bacon on the chewier side.”

“Oh, alright!” Elana said, “Brunch it is then, I guess we’re ready to order. Patsy, you go first.”

Patsy put in her order, a belgian waffle with strawberries and a lemon poppyseed muffin. Her father ordered the same as Mr. Morales, but he wanted his bacon crispy. Elana ordered two sunny side up eggs and some toast to dunk in the yolk. With that Margaret took off again.

“It just seemed so...out of nowhere.” Patsy said, suddenly.

Surprised, Elana reactively gave her a side hug, “No one ever expects these sorts of things to happen, Sweetheart. All that matters is that you’re safe.”

“Principal Robertson wasn’t...normal, right?” She asked, addressing her teacher.

Mr. Morales avoided her gaze, looking down into his coffee.

“Pats, Robertson wasn’t the man we thought he was, or he changed or something messed up.” her dad said.

“You saw his face too, right Mr. Morales, you asked him what he was.”

Her parents, worried for Patsy, then looked to the teacher they invited out.

“Miss. Pascala, I don’t know what had gotten into him, or what had become of him. That certainly wasn’t the man I have worked with for over two years now, but rest assured. He wasn’t some abnormality, he was a man, a man who revealed himself to be quite the monster.” Mr. Morales said finally, just as their food arrived.

To her parent’s relief, Patsy dropped the subject. They ate and her dad asked Mr. Morales how she was doing in his class.

“She is an ideal student” he told them, “Attentive, curious, she has a mind for nuance, and seems to genuinely want to understand why people did what they had done in the history lessons.” Which unfortunately made her quite uncomfortable, like she was in a parent-teacher conference all of all of a sudden.

As Patsy began to withdraw into herself, Elana asked her, “So, Patsy, is there anything else you’d like to do in town today before we head home?” She hoped to bring Patsy back to the surface of her own mind.

“Huh?” Patsy asked, she heard what her mom said, but her brain hadn’t really processed it yet. Something it usually would do about a split second after someone repeated what they said to her. “Oh, uh...well I was hoping we could go swing by grandma’s grave?” She stated her request with the inflection of a question. Her grandma wasn’t buried very far from where they lived. However, she knew that her dad always had a hard time going. He stayed in the car when they visited her grave a couple weeks before school started.

Joseph swallowed hard, but nodded, “Of course, babygirl.”

Mr. Morales raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t realize you had family buried here. I was under the impression that your family moved here from Louisiana.”

“We did, but Joseph is from here originally, we moved back here after his mother got sick.” Elana explained.

Mr. Morales turned his gaze back to his coffee, “I see.” Patsy could see his eyes darting swiftly like he either realized something or was thinking very swiftly. She felt like she could relate. “Miss. Pascala, Joseph, Elana. Please do not take me for overreaching but I’m not sure it is safe for the three of you to go to a location like that right now. If Robertson is following you it would be quite the place for an ambush.”

“Linus, don’t speak like that in front of my daughter.” Joseph said, something of a warning in his voice. 

“No, dad, it’s alright.” Patsy said, “Mr. Morales, do you really think it’s a bad idea to go to the cemetery?”

Mr. Morales looked to Joseph, who wore an expression that clearly said “Be careful how you say things.” He looked back at Patsy, with a small sigh, “I think, perhaps you should at least wait under after school starts up again Monday? Thank you all for this lovely meal, but I think I should be going. This should cover my food.” He swiftly got up and pulled his wallet out and with just his right hand awkwardly pulled out some bills. Leaving forty dollars on the table as he took off.

“I think you scared him.” Elana said simply, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

They ultimately didn’t go to the cemetery, to both the annoyance and relief of her father. In fact they stayed in for the rest of the day. Watching TV, playing a popular kart racing game which Joseph began quite smuggly. Only to lose to his daughter because of an npc driver launching a nuclear option that blasted him back to third place less than half the track away from victory.

Patsy told her parents that she felt comfortable enough to go to bed in her own room that night, and Elana made chicken parm hero sandwiches. All in all the day drifted by quickly after their lunch with the odd Mr. Morales. It was almost 10 at night when she finally told her parents she was going to bed, and they reaffirmed their own tiredness from the day and wouldn’t be up much longer themselves.

Of course, Patsy wasn’t really going to bed.

She stayed up for hours, just to be sure they had actually fallen asleep. Her dad. Patsy disarmed the security system and left the house, heading straight for the cemetery. She had to see her grandmother’s gravestone. Something about how Mr. Morales reacted just didn’t sit right with her. It had to be around 1:20 in the morning now and it was very dark and while it was brisk out during the day her fingers quickly started going numb and she could see her breath.

The ground of the cemetery was hard and bumpy from thawing into wet muddy ground under the sun during the day. Patsy walked through the cemetery at a brisk pace, wanting to get to her grandma's grave and back before her parents could wake up to find out she snuck out of the house...or worse she was taken by Robertson. The made her stomach clench up, and she began regretting this whole idea. There was a rustling in the bushes and she began to sprint, she felt like running home and forgetting all of this but she was painfully aware she was heading right towards the grave.

She came to a quick stop, looking down at the engraved stone. Ellinore DeSoto, 1961 to 2017. She knelt down, tears building in her eyes. Deep down she knew coming here now was a mistake, her grandma wouldn’t want her sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, especially not under the current circumstances.

She sniffled, alright she got to the gravestone and proved exactly nothing. Time to get home as fast as she possibly could and swear off stupid impulsive decsions forever.

The wet smacking of lips that made her skin crawl.

“Pr.principal Robertson?” She tentatively asked, standing up and turning towards the gross sound. Her eyes widened in grotesque terror as she looked at the swollen thing that only scarcely held the appearance of her principal, the purplish grey skin stretched uncomfortably tight as the creature smiled wider than nature as she knew it allowed.

“Pascala Desoto,” It still spoke with Principal Robertson’s voice. “So courteous of you to come to me, now we may continue your...disciplinary measures, young lady.” The creature stuck out it’s purple tongue which extended down past its belly.

Patsy wanted to run, scream, anything, but her legs refused to move. Her body frozen. It walked up closer to her, and it’s foul breath was like a thick miasma that made her lungs clench up and burnt her throat, she couldn’t even tremble in fear.

“Speechless, DeSoto?” It leaned in and inhaled deeply by her hair, it chucked out as it spoke, “Yeeheeehesss. Your flesh will do, your form will do.”

Over the creature’s shoulder Pascala saw another, and the ghoul’s smile turned into a scowl. Apparently it noticed him as well.  It wrapped it’s unnaturally large hands around her, its index finger on her shoulder and its pinky on her waist. Turning to face him it snarled out, “This is my Witch, get your own.”

The man stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight, the beams catching on his glasses, “Let her go, Corpse eater.” He held a revolver in one hand, and an old medieval looking sword in the other. His arm wasn’t in the sling anymore and he didn’t look injured at all.

“Morales, I knew I should have crushed your throat when-”

Her teacher cocked the pistol and aimed it right at his head.

“G...go ahead. I am not something you can kill with a bullet.” The ghoul said smugly.

“In your state it will hurt, it’ll be a whole world of agony.” Morales said, calling the monster’s bluff.

It took a slight step back, balking out a grunt in some fear. “We can split her! I don’t need her blood!”

Patsy’s eyes widened at the suggestion.

“Don’t worry, Miss. Pascala. This thing won’t harm you...and survive.” His voice was cold again, and she couldn’t help but feel an intense fear. Maybe from the slight tremors she felt through the ghoul’s hand, but somehow she knew that this thing that used to be her Principal was terrified.

“I can’t go back to the corpses people bury, they poison them, and every time I feed I whimper in agony for years, only to need to feed again, the cycle is torture! Have mercy!” The ghoul begged.

“You do not want my mercy, Corpse eater. It is at the end of my sword.” He began walking forward.

The ghoul released Patsy and pinched her throat, “Another step and I’ll break her neck!”

Reactively she reached up at the monster’s finger’s “I don’t want to die!” she sobbed, were she in a more clear headed situation she may have realized she can move again.

Mr. Morales paused, scowling back at the hellish beast. 

“That’s right! You...you have a fondness for her, your student, HAH! So long as I have her in my grasp you won’t risk harming her.” The ghoul grinned hideously in it’s little victory.

Her history class teacher inhaled sharply, then said, “If you are going to do something, now would be the time!”

Principal Robertson the ghoul frowned, “What are you playing at?!” 

Out from the bushes a large orange cat ran up much faster than Patsy had ever seen in her life and pounced on the ghoul’s forearm, clawing and tearing at it. The ghoul released her and she dropped, quickly and frantically crawling into an upright sprint several yards away from the monster.

Bean used the ghoul as a springboard and sprinted over to Patsy. The Ghoul was screaming and clutching the wounds the cat had left on it, as Morales lunged forward and with a clean swift strike cleaved the monster’s head from it’s shoulders.

Patsy’s breaths were short, and she pulled Bean into her arms as she tried to calm down. Morales wiped his blade off on the grass before sheathing it and steeping over to his student as he holstered his gun.

“I’m sorry, Miss. Pascala.” He said, “Are you alright?”

“What, what was that!?” She asked, looking at the ghoul’s limp body.

He paused, like he was unsure he could answer, “...Is there any world where you could accept that this was all a bad dream?”

She shook her head, “No, I have nightmares all the time, this is real.” Patsy looked at her teacher and gasped, she tried to step back but only fell backwards. “Those eyes!”

Mr. Morales sighed, and pulled his glasses from his face. His eyes were a hungry deep red. “Please, Miss. Pascala, I mean you no harm. You have my word, my oath as a man who has spent his very long life guiding the minds of the youth, and protecting everyone who I find in need of help.”

She tried to steady her breath, with Bean in her arms she felt much bolder and confident, “Those eyes, I’ve seen them in my nightmares, I trusted you and you’re another one of those things!” She pointed to the ghoul.”

He was taken aback, and gestured at his face, “You’ve seen these eyes in your dreams? Miss. Pascala, I assure you I am not a corpse eater.” He grabbed his lip and pulled it up, revealing a long and sharp fang. “I am a vampire, and amazingly you seemed to have augured my presence in your dreams.”

She stared at the fang with wide, slightly horrified eyes. “...Huh.”

“Huh. That...is a first.” The Vampire said, “I imagine you have questions, and you deserve answers. Especially if you refuse to accept this night was just a bad dream.”

She nodded, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, trust me I’m trying. Still here, next to my vampire history teacher.”

“Very well, Miss. Pascala. This ghoul was hunting you because you are a Sorceress, and whoever gave you that cat was as well. Seeing as how that animal is a Familiar, your Familiar.” He said, “Monday, come to my class after school, and I will tell you more. For now just go home, you’ll be safe there with the cat. I need to clean this up before anyone comes by and finds it.”

It was be a difficult thing to believe that Patsy would just accept things at that, that she would just go home and enjoy her long weekend with her folks, and she could just scratch Bean behind the ear knowing she was some magical protector her Secret Sorceress Grandma had given to her as a little kitten. That she could be nearly eaten and just go back to bed. All that can be agreed upon is that Patsy got out of bed the next morning around 10:30, that she took a shower and had slightly runny scrambled eggs for breakfast. Another thing that can be certain is that Patsy would never doubt what happened, what she saw and what she heard, and that the story of Pascala DeSoto, The Sorceress of Illinois had only begun. 

End Chapter

PayPal

[crystalwillow]

Fixing A Broken Heart

Paring: Ethan x Casey w/ Bryce & Sienna. (a little bit of Bryce x Casey)

 Tagging: @eleanorbloom @brycelahelalover

“Casey honey! It’s time to get up and ready for your new school!”

Casey opened her eyes, groaning groggily as she took in the light that flooded into her room through the cracks in her curtains. She yawned as she got up from under the covers, throwing  the curtains open before opening her door, finding her mom smiling at her.

“Ready for breakfast honey pie?”

“Yeah.”

She followed her mom to the kitchen as she rubbed sleep from her eyes and took a seat at the table. She took her hair out and threw it back up in a messy bun, so it wasn’t in her face as she ate, smiling at her mom as she placed her favorite pop tarts and a slice of toast on the table in front of her.

“Thanks mom.”

“You’re welcome sweetie.” Her mom smiled as she kissed her forehead. “Now you remember what time the bus leaves, don’t you?”

“I do mum. 8:15am sharp from the stop just down the road.”

“Great! Don’t be late okay?”

“But I thought you were taking me today?”

“Oh Casey. I forgot to tell you last night. I have an interview this morning that starts at the same time as school does for you.”

“Oh...”

“I’m sorry honey. I know that I promised. Why don’t I buy us Chinese tonight as a treat?”

Casey thought her mothers words over for a brief moment, before settling her face into a happier expression.

“Yeah. Okay. You’ll remember the special noodles I like?”

“I could never forget after your freak out when you were 8 years old. You’d never let it go.”

The two shared a chuckle and a hug before Casey’s mom said goodbye and headed out the front door. After finishing her breakfast, Casey placed her plate in the sink and headed upstairs to grab a shower, get dressed and check her bag had everything she would need. At 8:05am she set off to the bus  stop just down the road to wait for the bus to school. The ride was bumpy, loud and had an uneasy setting for Casey. Everyone was looking at her as if she was some type of extraterrestrial being. When the bus stopped outside the school stop, she was the last one off. She hugged herself as she walked towards the front doors of the school building. Anxiety and fear eating away at her. Not knowing where to go by herself she wandered the halls until she came across the one door she was looking for. The principal’s office. She knocked politely and waited to be called in.

“Come in!”

Casey opened the door and stuck her head in and met the principal’s face which changed into a friendly smile upon seeing her.

“Ah. You must be new.”

“Y-yes ma’am. My name i-is C-Casey. Va-Valentine.”

“Come in my sweet. There’s no need to be nervous.” The principal smiled at her warmly.

Swallowing harshly, Casey opened the door fully and stepped inside the office, closing the door behind her and sitting opposite the principal as she finished typing some things on her computer. As she waited, Casey looked around the office noting the name plaque on the principals desk. ‘Principal. B. Witherspoon’

Clearing her throat, principal Witherspoon smiled as Casey snapped her attention towards her.

“S-sorry.”

“For?”

“Looking around. I-it was rude of me.”

“Relax darling. It’s okay.” She offered Casey a kind smile which was half returned. After helping Casey sort her schedule, she walked her to her first class, knocking on the door, walking in and smiling at the teacher.

“Sorry for the interruption, Mr. Nelson. I have a new student for you.”

Casey stood behind the principal and nervously gave the teacher a wave.

“Thank you, principal Witherspoon.”

The principal smiled at Casey and gave her shoulder a quick rub. “You’ll be okay. Mr. Nelson is one of the best teachers we have at this school.”

Casey nodded and the principal left the classroom. Mr. Nelson introduced himself to Casey, and pointed her to a seat at the back of the room next to a boy with long-ish brown hair and glasses. His expression stoic, and eyes that were bluer than any ocean she had ever seen in her life so far. She was so mesmerized by the boy that she almost tripped over another students bag.

“Careful!” The boy who she was staring at exclaimed. Narrowly stopping the accident.

“Huh? Oh! Th-thank you.. um..”

“Don’t mention it.”

Casey took her seat and pulled out her notebook and pen. At the front of the class Mr. Nelson had minimized the PowerPoint and was looking at the class.

“Now. We will now take a few minutes to get to know our new classmate.”

“UM.. well uhhhh.” Casey stammered looking for words, and around the room panicked. She knew this would happen a lot to day, but introducing herself always made her nervous. She could feel a panic attack starting to bubble up inside of her, that’s when as if she was in some movie or a story her eyes met the boys ocean blue ones. They were full of kindness and patience as she stared into them, a small smile crept onto her face. As if she was giving him a silent thank you, he gave her a small and subtle nod. Taking a deep breath to calm herself down, Casey rose to her feet and smiled at the class.

“Well, my name is Casey Valentine. I’ve transferred here from a school in California. Uhhh, I live with my mum and our dog snowball.” At the mention of her dog’s name, her eyes went wide with horror. “Oh no! I forgot to feed snowball!”

Seeing the panic creeping onto her face, Mr. Nelson done his best to calm her down.

“Now it’s okay Casey. He’s going to be okay. It will be okay.”

Casey sat in her seat and slumped over on her desk as she tried to calm herself down. She knew deep down that he would be okay, but right now she feared she’d go home and find him dead. After that the day passed in a blur of introductions and hard work. When she returned home she called out to her mom but got no response. She looked around the whole house but there was no sign of her. Concluding that she was probably shopping, Casey headed to the kitchen, filling snowballs food and water bowls, crouching beside him as he ate the food enthusiastically.

“I’m so sorry I forgot to feed you this morning snow. It was careless of me.”

She stroked his fluffy coat for a few moments then headed to her room and started on her homework. After she had everything at her desk, she went to open her bedroom window and tie back her curtains. Casey was working hard on a math problem when her phone rang, a smile lit up her features when she saw the name of one of her best friends from back in California. She wasted no time in picking up the call, answering excitedly and with a new burst of energy.

“Sienna!”

“CASEY! I, well WE didn’t think you’d pick up.”

“We?”

“mhm! Bryce is here too!”

“Hey Cassie!”

“Hi Brycie!”

“UGHHHH CASEYYYYYYY. You know I don’t like you calling me thaaaattt!”

“But what fun is life if you can’t tease your friends every now and then?”

“... fine. I’ll let it slip this time. But only because I’m missing you”

“Hey! I miss her too you know!”

Casey chuckled as her two friends engaged in a playful fight on the other end of the line. The three chatted for hours as Casey done her homework, upon hearing the front door open and close again, Casey let out a sigh.

“Guys, I should go. I think my mum just come home.”

“AWWW. Do you really have to go?”

“Yes Bryce, I really have to go. But I’ll call you guys again at the weekend.”

“Awww...” Bryce sighed. Casey could practically hear the pout in his voice as Sienna spoke up

“We’ll look forward to your call! It’s not the same hanging out with out you. I hope we can do it again soon.”

“We definitely will you guys. I love you!”

“We love you too Casey!”

After saying a couple more goodbye’s Casey hung up and rushed down the stairs to the kitchen, following the smell of food.

“Mom? ... Mom!”

She ran over to her and hugged her from behind. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, feeling all of the leftover anxiety and fear from the day flood out of her body as she relaxed.

“Oh! Hey honey pie. How was school?” Her mom asked as she hugged Casey back just as tightly.

“It was okay. I had to introduce myself a lot and I was a little bit scared at first. But I met some friendly faces who helped me out, so I didn’t make myself seem like too much of a fool.”

“Aw, my little girl isn’t a fool. She couldn’t be even if she tried. Though she is extremely goofy at times.”

“Mooommmm.”

Her mom laughed and ruffled Casey’s hair playfully.

“Now, can you set the table and I’ll come over to sort out the dinner.”

The two sat at the dinner table together, smiling and laughing as Casey’s mom asked her what her favourite class is so far. She would of course say Mr. Nelson’s class. Of course when she was asked why she gave the obvious answer.

“Mom.. really? You know that I love biology!”

She wasn’t going to let her mom know that there was a cute boy in the class that she was attracted to in some magnetic way. It was similar to how she felt for her friend Bryce. It’s why she enjoyed teasing him so much. But the feeling towards this boy in her new biology class was somehow a stronger version of what she felt for Bryce. Dinner passed by happily and after rinsing the dishes and  placing them in the dishwasher, Casey sat on the couch with her mom and they watched a movie together. After that, Casey was ready for bed. So she stood up and stretched out her limbs then smiled at her mom.

“I’m going to head to bed now. I’m exhausted after today.”

“Okay honey. Sleep well, see you tomorrow.”

“Night mom.”

“Goodnight Casey.”

--- That Weekend ---

Casey had just finished helping her mom put the groceries away when her phone pinged.

“Oh, mom. I promised Bryce and Sienna that I’d call this weekend. Is it okay if I go up and?”

“Of course. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

Thanking her mom and giving her a quick peck on the cheek, Casey ran upstairs to her bedroom and shut her door behind her. She hung her jacket up and put her shoes away before flopping on the bed on her stomach and sent Sienna a quick text.

Casey: Hey! Do you guys mind if I facetime you instead?

Sienna: We’d love that!

Casey: Cool, just give me a moment, I think snowball is outside my door!

She got up and opened her door, snowball walking in and jumping on her bed, making himself comfortable. Casey cuddled with him as she waited for Sienna to answer the call. After a couple of rings she picked up

“Bryce stop being so vein! It’s your hair! Casey isn’t going to care what you look like!”

“But I care what I look like Si!”

“Boys!” Sienna sighed with an eyeroll and Casey chuckled

“Hey there!”

“Casey! Hey!”

Sienna and Casey spoke between themselves whilst they waited for Bryce to stop messing with his hair. It took about 15 minutes but soon Bryce came into view of the camera, looking glum and annoyed.

“Awww, Brycie what’s wrong?” Casey asked.

“Shut up.” He pouted as he crossed his arms.

“You’re cute when you’re mad.”

There was a silence as Casey realized what she said after she had said it, turning beet red and giving a small and awkward cough, looking at snowball who now wanted to leave the room.

“One second guys. Snowball wants out.”

She got up and opened the door letting her dog go, before shutting it again and laying back on her bed. The awkwardness hung in the air for a little longer after Casey returned to her phone, before the slight tension was broke by Sienna’s dad coming up the stairs, calling out to her.

“Sienna sweetie? Are you up here?”

“In my room dad! I’m talking to Casey with Bryce”

“Ah darling. I’m going away on another long drive. I’ll be gone for about a week.”

“A week?!”

“... I know it’s difficult sweetheart but it’s all to help us out hey?”

Sienna sighs before hugging her dad tight and following him downstairs to say goodbye properly. Leaving Bryce and Casey alone for a few moments.

“Bryce?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh... for what it’s worth. Your bad hair day kind of suits you”

“...I- Thanks.”

They smiled at each other as Sienna came back and sat down. She took her phone from Bryce and smiled at Casey.

“Soooo...”

“So?... what?”

“Are you going to tell me more about this boy in your biology class?”

Casey blushed furiously as Sienna spoke in a teasing tone and Bryce tensed up a bit. Almost as if he was sensing competition. He looked at Sienna and then at the screen where Casey was still blushing brightly.

“Is everything okay with your dad Si?”

“Nu-uhh. We are not changing the subject Casey Valentine!”

“I have a question.” Bryce cut in. “Is he better looking than me?”

“What?”

“ooo, Bryce looking for the juicy gossip!”

Casey sighed and picked at her nails. “If you guys really want to know. Yes, he is cute. And kind. And misunderstood most of the time outside of class because of his brooding exterior but.. I’m his lab partner now and I’ve been getting to know him. He’s nice.”

“Ohmygosh” You like him!”

“No! I do not! I mean maybe I can see him being my first friend here on the East Coast... But other than that.. no!”

Casey blushed again and felt a pang of a feeling similar to guilt in her chest as she looked at Bryce’s expression.

“Bryce? Are you okay?” Casey asked, and Sienna turned to him.

“Do you feel alright? You’ve gone awfully pale...”

“I... I’m fine. I just, remembered that I need to run an errand before it gets too dark.” Bryce said and then left abruptly. Sienna and Casey shared a knowing look of sadness and understanding.

“He likes me as more than a friend, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah... It looks that way.”

Casey was about to speak again when she heard her mom calling up the stairs that dinner was ready. Turning back to the screen after calling back a quick okay, and smiled apologetically at Sienna.

“Sorry. I’ve gotta go. Mom just called for dinner.”

“Okay! Speak soon?”

“Definitely. Oh and Si?”

“Yeah?”

“When you see Bryce next, tell him to uh.. give me a call? I’d like to talk with him one on one.”

“Sure thing Case. Miss and love you!”

“Bye Si! Miss and love you too!”

The two girls waved goodbye to each other then hung up the call, and Casey put her phone to charge before heading downstairs. Her mom smiled at her as she entered the kitchen.

“How was the call with Sienna and Bryce.”

“It was good.” Casey sighed.

“Only good?”

“Well... me and Sienna kinda found out Bryce likes me when I told them about the boy in my bio class. He acted jealous and then made up this excuse about an errand before bolting off. It’s not like I’m even interested in the boy in bio that way. I only know his first name and that he’s passionate about bio like I am.”

Casey’s mom sighed and placed her hands around Casey’s.

“Listen. Boys are just as complex as girls. But you’re too young to be having boy drama Casey Valentine.” She booped her daughters nose and ruffled her hair, earning a small giggle from Casey before they dug into their meal.

After that night, the next few weeks went past in a blur. Casey heard from Sienna frequently but never heard a word from Bryce. Not one text or call for ages. Until one day she finally had enough of his avoidance game. She was at lunch by herself, and knowing he would most likely be in class, she dialed her old schools number. The scowl on her face was unmissable but she kept her tone level as possible as she spoke to the receptionist that answered.

“Hello, Greenfield Middle School. How may I help you?”

“Hi. It’s Casey Valentine. I’m a former student. I um. I would like to get a very angry message to Bryce Lahela in Mrs. Smith’s homeroom. Can somebody please tell him he is a big headed bitch with an overinflated ego, and he needs to just talk to me.”

“Woah. Sweetheart. You were a very sweet student here. Are things okay at your new school?”

“Things here are fine. I just want my friend to stop being mad at me just because he thinks I like another boy. I’ve wanted to talk with him about it for weeks now. But he’s ignoring me and it’s starting to effect my grades.”

“Okay well um.. We’ll get that message to him.”

Just then Casey froze as Ethan sat with her, opening his lunch box and pulling out his sandwich.

“Thank you. And um... I am so sorry for the harsh language.”

“It’s okay Casey. Goodbye now.”

“Bye.”

Sighing she hung up and placed her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her hands as she stared straight ahead. Ethan swallowed his food and took a sip of his drink, looking straight at Casey as he done so. He could practically see the gears in her brain working. “Are you okay?” He asked, but Casey was zoned out and could barely hear him. It wasn’t until the bell rang and brought her back to the present moment that she noticed Ethan was still sitting there. Looking at her as if he was studying a plant or something. “What?” she asked, and Ethan simply shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“I guess I’ll see you in last period.”

“Uhhhh, right.” Casey tried to smile but it didn’t reach her eyes. It seemed pained and forced. She headed to her math class, trying her best to concentrate but her mind kept coming back to Bryce and figuring out he saw her as more than a friend, and somehow it hurt even more that he was ignoring her. Because deep down, she knew she kinda liked him back. She zoned out as she thought about what it would feel like to have his lips press softly against her own. It wasn’t until she heard the teacher shouting her name that she realized how far she had zoned out. Blushing, she snapped her attention back to the front of the class.

“Yes Miss?”

“What’s the answer to question 8c?”

Casey looked down at her text book and read the question, then set a determined look on her face as she turned her gaze back to the teacher at the front of the class. Giving her best smile, she cleared her throat to speak up.

“Of course Miss.The answer is t-“

But she was cut off by another student blurting out the answer. The teacher looking in their direction visibly annoyed.

“Is that what you were going to say Casey?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Pay attention to my class from now on okay?”

Casey gave a nod and the rest of the day dragged by. Even in last period she didn’t smile or engage with the practical properly. Ethan tried getting her to focus, but she just wasn’t in the mood. There was a point where Mr. Nelson had to send another female student to get her from the bathroom. When she returned, she sat in her seat next to Ethan but kept her head down. She had been crying. The one thing she never done at school, because it made her look ‘weak’ and like a perfect target for the popular people because she’s already showing she’s broken. At the end of the day when the school bell rang. She grabbed her bag, stuffing her things inside and rushed out the door and to the bus stop as fast as possible. When her bus arrived she jumped on and secured a seat at the back. Upon getting home, snowball greeted her at the door, but all she could manage to do was stroke his head as she shut the front door before running to her room, shutting the door behind her with a loud bang. Usually she was sad that her mom’s new job finished late, but today she was thankful. She had so many tears left to get out that she just laid on her bed and let them fall. As she was crying her phone rang, “Not the greatest timing Si.” she muttered as she rolled over and fished through her bag to get it out. Her eyebrows raised a little when she saw Bryce’s name across the screen, yet she didn’t answer because she didn’t need him to hear the brokenness in her voice right now. She left it to ring but suddenly this boy was relentless in his attempts at trying to contact her. She knew she should answer, but she just couldn’t. Crying was all she could do right now.

--- In California ---

“Come on pick up. Please pick up.”

Bryce paced in Sienna’s room as he waited for Casey to answer her phone. Sienna was sitting at her desk doing homework, or at least she was trying. Bryce had been pacing for about 5 minutes when she had finally had enough.

“Bryce could you please just sit down.”

“I can’t Sienna. She’s not answering. What if she’s in danger? What if she’s hurt somewhere. What if she’s... with him...” Bryce said, swallowing hard as he spoke his last words.

“Bryce.” Sienna sighed and got to her feet. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably having dinner or time with her mom.  You know she’s three hours ahead of us now.”

“I know it’s just..... I really like her Si and I’m scared I’ve lost her to someone else.”

“Well.. Have you thought about the third possibility here?”

“Third possibility?”

“Yeah. That she’s ignoring you to show you how it’s felt for her these past few weeks. She’s usually so bubbly. But every phone call I’ve had with her recently.. she’s sounded deflated and not like the Casey we know and love so much.”

“Oh God. What if I broke her? She probably hates me now! I should never have stormed off like that when- Oh God.”

Bryce sat on Sienna’s bed, his hands now trembling as he dug his fingers into his hair and pulled. A mix of anger, guilt and sadness in his chest. “GODDAMNIT!” he said harshly through clenched teeth. Sienna sat next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back. In that moment he broke too. He let himself fall into Sienna shoulder as he sobbed. He said some words as he sobbed but she couldn’t make them out. Sienna was stroking Bryce’s arm as her bedroom door opened slowly and her mom popped her head in.

“Si? I heard a shout is everything o- Oh! What’s happened?”

“Just some girl trouble.”

“... This is about Casey isn’t it?”

Sienna looked at her mom shocked for a moment before looking at her sorrowfully and giving a small nod. Her mom came into the room and pulled up a chair near Bryce and Sienna.

“Look. I may be old. But I’ve seen the way you look at that girl Bryce. So what’s happened? Did she reject you? Has she got a boyfriend at her new school? What’s up?”

Bryce hiccupped as he tried to calm himself down to speak but it didn’t work. Every time he got ready to speak, emotion overwhelmed him again.  

“Casey is sort of crushing on this boy in her bio class. She won’t openly admit it. But what she has admitted is that she likes Bryce back. Only she’s giving him a taste of his own medicine because the last time they spoke, Bryce got jealous when she told us about this boy and stormed off. He hasn’t tried contacting her until tonight when she’s tried reaching out constantly. The only reason he’s snapped back to reality, is because she called the school office today and asked for a message to be passed on.”

“I see. Well, Bryce, maybe just wait it out? She’ll call you back. I’m sure she’s just a mess at the minute and doesn’t want you to hear her broken. I done a similar thing when I was your ages and had the attention of two very attractive boys.”

“Really? Mom, how come you’ve never told me this?!”

“Because I was saving the story. But it’s how I met your father. I fell in love with him and those boys ran home to nurse their wounded egos after being chewed out by your dad for showing me disrespect by fighting over me.”

Bryce sniffled and sat up straight, looking at Sienna’s mom with bright red circles around his eyes. Sienna handed him a tissue.

“Thanks Si.” He blew his nose and cleared his throat before speaking to Sienna’s mom.

“So what you’re saying is, if I want any chance of dating Casey I have to not fight over her with another guy like she’s a prize?”

“Exactly my sweet. Girls hate being treated like they’re some trophy prize in a race. They just want love, loyalty, respect and to get to know you. The real you that’s inside here.” Sienna’s mom patted her chest over her heart with a kind smile as she looked back at Bryce. “Treat her like the beautiful human she is and never lose track of the fact she’s just that. Human. Not a trophy.”

Bryce sniffled again and gave Sienna’s mom a grateful smile and a small nod.

“Thank you, Mrs. Trinh. I’ll remember that.”

“You better. Otherwise I’ll whoop your ass.”

The three laughed together and shared a hug, Sienna’s mom then leaving and heading back downstairs. Bryce looked at Sienna and gave a shy smile, eyeing the shoulder of her shirt.

“Sorry about soaking your shoulder.”

“It’s okay. You feel better now?”

“Much.” He smiled.

“Then I’m doing my job of being a friend well.”

“Are you kidding Si? You’re the best friend a guy like me could ask for!”

“Aw Bryce! You’ve gone all soft!”

Sienna carried on teasing him for a little while before her mom called them for dinner, and they rushed down the stairs. The aroma’s of another amazing homecooked meal hitting their nostrils before they were even half way to the dining room.

--- Back On The East Coast ---

Hours had passed since Casey had gotten in and cried herself to sleep as she waited for her mom to get home. Ignoring phone calls from Bryce. Since then she had been woken up, had dinner and spent some time with her mom. She now sat in her room at her laptop as she watched some videos on the internet. It was late but she couldn’t sleep. Everything was becoming too much. She paused her video and picked up her phone from her desk, taking it off charge. Her hand shook hesitantly over Bryce’s number before just pressing call. Finding herself immediately pacing the length of her room back and forth until he picked up.

“Casey! I uh mean.. Casey. Hey.”

She wanted to giggle at him. Hearing his voice after so long brought a smile to her face and renewed her energy.

“H-hey Bryce.” She spoke shyly down the phone. “Are you okay?”

“Ye- I- ... No. I’m not. I’m not okay at all.”

“Why? What’s wrong? Did you fail your math test again?”

Bryce let out a small chuckle as a soft smile spread itself on his features. She still had a sense of humor like his Casey always had. ... His Casey. He smiled even more at the thought of calling her that.

“...um Bryce? Are you still there? ... Hello?”

He snapped back to reality and cleared his throat.

“Hi. Yes, I’m still here hon- Casey.”

Damn it Bryce. Control yourself, she’s not your girlfriend yet. Casey smiled and continued talking.

“I’ve missed you Bryce.”

“I.. you have?”

“yes. I’ve hated every part of the last few weeks. At first Ethan helped me out a little. But-”

“Ethan?”

“Oh. Right. I never told you guys his name. The boy from my biology class. His name’s Ethan.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“If it helps. He doesn’t do relationships you know. He doesn’t want the distraction and I don’t even think he likes me back. So you have no competition. If that’s what this has been about.” Casey said and she stopped pacing and sat on her bed.

“Competition? I-, Yeah you’re right. I guess I did see him as competition.”

“Well you can relax. Okay Brycie?”

“Heh. I didn’t notice how much I missed you calling me that until now.”

“Sooo. Are we...”

“Yeah. We’re good.”

“Woop!”

Bryce chuckled at Casey, wishing he could hug her. He let out a long sigh, a clear indication that something was wrong, which immediately made Casey frown.

“What’s wrong, Bryce? Seriously. You’ve never sounded so glum.”

“I’ve never gone so long without being able to give you a hug.”

“... Our hugs. They were never just hugs were they?”

“What do you-”

“Bryce, come on. We’re both smart kids. Those hugs were more to you weren’t they?”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line until Bryce let out another sigh. But this one sounded a little different.

“Yeah... they did. They were um... They were my way of saying that I like you more than you’ll ever know.”

Now it was Casey’s turn to be silent as she processed his words. He sounded so sure. Almost as if he wanted to say a different four letter L word, but wouldn’t. She could understand why. They were still young, how could they know what love actually is? That’s what older generations would say anyway. “You’re only 14, you wouldn’t know the meaning of love if it hit you in the face!” She let out a small laugh at the subtle obscenity of her thoughts, forgetting she was on the phone until she heard Bryce’s hesitant voice again.

“Um, Casey...”

“Ah! Hoooo. Don’t scare me like that!” She whined and Bryce chuckled.

“You zoned out huh?”

“... yeah.”

“Look. When can I see you again. I miss you so much! Sienna does too but-”

“I get it Bryce. You want to hug me again.”

“... yeah. I do.”

“There’s always the summer.”

“But... that’s ages away and I.. Well uh-”

He sounds so shy and different. Maybe his voice has broken a little bit? Casey didn’t know for sure, but his tone did sound a little deeper. They spoke for a little while longer before Casey started yawning, sleep quickly wanting to take over her body.

“Getting tired huh?”

“... mmm, yeah.”

“Then I shall let Sleeping Beauty go and get her Beauty sleep. Even though she looks beautiful with bags under her eyes too.”

“UM. RUDE!”

“Only being truthful...”

They laughed together, the sound genuine and full. Then they said their goodbyes and hung up, both going to bed to get what sleep they could. Glad they had gotten over the bump in their relationship at last.

The months passed by and suddenly spring break had arrived. Casey was waiting out the front of the school for her mom to come and pick her up when a figure stopped beside her. She was watching a video Sienna had sent her of Bryce doing something real goofy, so she didn’t speak or look up to greet whoever it was until the video finished.

“Oh, Ethan. Hi”

“Hey. Uh...”

She could see he was nervous, so she locked and bagged her phone then gave him a friendly smile.

“How can I help? Did I accidently keep your pen again?”

“No. Nothing like that.” He chuckled. Casey froze. It was the first time she had heard him chuckle so genuinely.

“...Oh. so uh, what’s up?”

“This is going to sound so stupid. But um. My dad is going to be working late and I’ve locked myself out of the house. Would it be okay if I uh.. came to yours until he could pick me up? I would ask someone else but you’re actually the only person I consider, a friend.”

Casey looked up as she saw a car, her mom smiled and waved at her through the window. Casey smiled and waved back, then turned her attention back to Ethan.

“Let me just ask my mom. It should be okay, but I wouldn’t want to do anything wrong.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He smiled at her and she walked to the car, opening the trunk and throwing her bag in before opening the passenger side door, sticking her head in.

“Hey mom? Ethan’s locked himself out of his house. Could he come home with us until his dad can pick him up later?”

“Sure honey.”

“Thanks mom.”

She stood up straight and called out to him, he walked over and got in the back as Casey secured her front seat and turned on the radio, singing along to the pop songs all the way home. When they got inside, snowball raced towards Casey almost knocking her over.

“Hey boy!” she exclaimed as she crouched down and ruffled his furry coat as he licked her face. “Oh! I’ve missed you too buddy! Did you have a good day?”

Snowball woofed excitedly and Casey grinned back, pretending to understand, talking back in between each woof. Her mom made her way to the kitchen as Ethan stood by the now closed door awkwardly.

“An adventure?! Into space? ... No way! You’ll have to take me next time. I’d love to see your rocket ship!” She giggled as snowball jumped on her, giving her a hug before walking off to find Casey’s mom. She stood up and turned to Ethan, still smiling.

“Is that-?”

“That’s snowball yeah.”

“He seems very.... Energetic.”

Casey threw her head back a little as she laughed and nodded. “He is. But he’s such a lovely dog.”

She was about to suggest going upstairs when Ethan’s stomach interrupted the unspoken thought as it grumbled loudly.

“Would you like a snack? We have plenty of supplies.”

“Oh. No. I couldn’t take your food. I’m only taking shelter here until I can go home.”

At that moment Ethan’s phone pinged. His face fell as he read the message.

“Ethan.. what is it?”

“My dad.. He um. Won’t be able to get me until the morning. Where am I going to go now?”

“You can stay in our guest room. Or we could have a sleepover in the living room.”

“A sleepover? That’s ridiculous.” He said, trying to hide the tiny smile that was creeping onto his features. He didn’t want to admit he actually liked the idea.

“It’s not. Look, let’s ask mom if you can stay the night and then we can decide on sleeping arrangements.” Casey went to the kitchen in search of her mom.

“Mom?!”

“In here honey pie!”

She followed the sound to the living room and sat next to her mom on the couch, looking at her with a smile.

“What’s up?”

“Could Ethan stay tonight? His dad can’t pick him up until the morning now.”

“Oh honey, of course! We can’t just throw him onto the streets!”

“Thanks mom. If we wanted to. Would it be okay to sleep in here?”

Her mom gave her a smile and squeezed her arm gently. “Of course.”

She hugged her mom and returned to Ethan, a light bouncy energy about her as she smiled from ear to ear.  “It’s okay for you to stay. Now let’s get you something to eat.” She said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to the kitchen as she ignored his protests. “What would you like? Something sweet? Savory?” She turned to him as she closed a cupboard.

“C-could I have a grilled cheese?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

Casey grabbed the bread and made two grilled cheese sandwiches then handed Ethan his.

“Let’s go upstairs!”

“Um. Okay.”

Ethan followed her hesitantly and they enter her room, Casey closing the door behind him.

“Um shouldn’t you-?”

“What? Leave it open? No. My mom trusts me and besides even if we were older, we’re just friends. We wouldn’t be engaging in that kind of activity.” She sat on her bed and patted the spot next to her, gesturing for Ethan to sit down. He hesitated then sat on the floor. Casey gave him a look, but he just shrugged. They ate their food then Casey took the plates to the kitchen and washed them up before returning to her room and climbing back on her bed.

“Are you seriously studying right now?”

“Yes. Studying is imperative if you want good grades and I want good grades so..”

“You can be such a killjoy Ethan.”

He wished he had a witty comment ready to fire at her, but he didn’t so he just smiled before going back to his book. Casey was flipping through TV channels when her phone rang. She looked at the screen and smiled before answering it. Normally she would put it to her ear, but it was a facetime call, so she held it in the air, earning a weird look from Ethan as she pressed accept.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“I-”

“Casey?” someone said on the call

She shook her head and then smiled at the screen.

“Hey Sienna!”

“Am I still a ghost to you on these things?” Bryce joked as he poked his head in the corner of the screen.

“No Bryce. You’re not. But, if you aren’t on screen when I look, I’m always going to assume that Si is alone.”

Bryce rolled his eyes good naturedly then disappeared again.

“Where are you guys anyway?”

“We’re in Target. We’re choosing snacks for the picnic tomorrow.”

“You guys better not have too much fun without me.”

“How could we? You and Bryce together were the fun.”

“Which means.” Bryce said as he came back into view, arms full of chips and other delicious looking snacks. “We will only ever have half the fun whilst you’re gone.”

Casey smiled at that. She was so thankful for them. Most people would have given up contact like this by now if their friend had moved as far away from them as Casey had from Sienna and Bryce. But almost every day like clockwork, there they were. Calling her, facetiming, being there with jokes and ready to help her study when she needed it. Their bond and friendship was pure and true. It just felt right. Bryce and Casey didn’t know if they were going to try at being more than just friends, but they knew they seriously liked each other, and it showed. In the past few weeks, they had gotten comfortable with sharing light hearted flirty jokes. She was talking to them about what she was probably going to be doing over spring break without them when Ethan waved to get her attention.

“One second guys.”

She kept the camera on herself and looked at Ethan.

“What’s up?”

“I can’t figure out the answer to this math question. Could you help quick?” Ethan asked

Casey smiled and moved from her bed next to Ethan on the floor. Looking at the question.

 She looked at the equation but the longer she looked the more stumped she started to feel. She read the full question over and over but the equation that needed to be answered left her at a loss for thought, let alone a loss for words.

“I... I don’t know.”

“Ugh. This is stupid!” Ethan exclaimed and slammed the book shut, taking off his glasses and rubbing his hands over his face.

“Well why don’t you put the books away and come say hi to my friends from my old school?”

“Because they’re exactly that. You’re friends. I don’t do friendships. Well... unless it’s you. Everyone else at school is dumb.”

Casey chuckled at him and shook her head. She’d forgotten her phone was angled at her, meaning Sienna and Bryce could probably see him anyway.

“Is that Ethan?” Sienna said, their attention snapped to Casey’s phone to find Sienna smiling at them. Bryce was doing his best to look friendly, but Casey could see he was kinda jealous that she had another guy friend. Casey smiled at the screen and ruffled Ethan’s hair as she nodded. He scowled at her but she just grinned, it took him a while, but he clicked.

“You done that on purpose!” he exclaimed

“Yup. This is Ethan. The least approachable 14 year old you’ll ever know.”

“I am not unapproachable.”

“Are to.”

“Then why do you approach me?”

“I don’t. If I remember correctly, you’re the one who seeks me out a lunch sometimes. And if we’re ever in the same hall. You come to me.”

“Well yeah. Because we have biology together. If you don’t want a walking partner, I’ll stop.”

“Uh-huh.” She gave him a knowing look and the four carried on talking for another hour before Casey had to hang up and put her phone on charge. They moved to Casey’s bed and put on some medical TV show Ethan liked. He was super engrossed, but Casey felt tired and didn’t want her eyes to strain more than necessary so rolled on her side, facing away from Ethan and closed her eyes. She must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew her mom was standing in her doorway, calling her name.

“Casey. Casey!”

Casey jolted awake but didn’t sit up fast enough, and ended up rolling off the bed. As she landed the was a yelp of pain and Ethan lent over to look down at her.

“Are you okay?”

“I hit my head.”

“Here.” Ethan held his hand out and helped her up. She laid back on her bed, tears stinging her eyes.

“I’m sorry poppet. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Her mom said, coming in and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I only came to ask what you kids would like for dinner. I’m ordering Indian.”

“Same as always please mom. Chicken Korma, rice and naan. Also extra poppadum’s for snacking on later.”

Ethan looked at her with his mouth agape.

“You do that too?”

“Do what?” Casey asked

“Get poppadum’s for snacking on.”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I do that. I thought I was alone.”

“You’re never really alone.”

He smiled before giving Casey’s mom his order and she left to order it. When it arrived they sat around the dining table talking about school, how work went for Casey’s mom, and Ethan told them a bit about what it was like for him growing up on the east coast so far. After dinner, Casey and Ethan moved sleeping supplies to the living room. Casey told spooky stories, and Ethan tried his best to keep a stoic expression at all of them, though internally, he admitted to himself that some of them were scaring the shit out of him.

After that night, Casey and Ethan were inseparable. They done almost everything together. If he wasn’t at Casey’s house to study after school, they were at his. They had started hanging out every lunchtime and despite the weird looks everyone gave them, they smiled and laughed as they carried on with their conversations. When summer break came round, Ethan was at Casey’s to say goodbye as she was going back to California to see Bryce and Sienna for 3 weeks. They were some of the most boring weeks he had experienced in a while. He didn’t notice how happy he was to have her as a friend until she had left. When she came back, she stopped at his house to give him a gift and say hi. Soon the months had turned into years and they were in the last stretch of their senior year. Ethan developed feelings of attraction to Casey as they got older, but had to restrain himself from taking action on them, because on her 15th birthday, she started a relationship with Bryce. They were happy together despite the hardships the distance brought them. They made an effort to see each other in person as much as they could. But by halfway through senior year, Bryce wasn’t feeling as enthusiastic about things as he had been. One day he called Casey. She answered happily but by the end of the call, she couldn’t focus on anything. She laid in the middle of her bed, cuddling a pillow as tears stung her eyes, her heart continued to shatter, and his words echoed in her head.

“Casey... I don’t think this is going to work much longer. We either need to be just friends or just go our own ways.”

She was broken. She really loved Bryce, and he loved her back. At least that’s what she thought. But after that call, doubt after doubt came into her mind. Her tears were hot and stung her eyes. She didn’t leave her room that night and the next few days she completely skipped school. She couldn’t see anyone, and she didn’t want anyone to see her. How could Bryce do this to her? She wanted so badly to ask Sienna if he’d been acting differently at all, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she ignored every message and incoming call she got. The furthest she moved was to use the toilet or get a drink. She hated what she was feeling. She cried, day and night all alone in her room until finally one night when she was in the middle of what felt like her millionth time crying, her door creaked open and a head popped in.

“I’m fine mom. I’ll go back to school Monday, just like I promised.”

“Casey... I’m not your mother.”

She looked at the door and saw Ethan standing there, he had pushed the door wide open and was holding a bag.

“What’s in the bag.”

“Everything needed to help you feel better.”

“I’m not going to feel better Ethan. I’m broken. No tape, bandage, glue or amount of chocolate is going to fix me. I loved.. no I love him.”

Ethan sighed. He’d been talking with Sienna through Pictagram DM’s, and the two were sharing mutual feelings of disgust and horror at the videos and pictures taken secretly that Sienna was sending. He didn’t love Casey anymore. If he ever did at all. He was acting like the perfect stereotypical jock. He’d dumped Casey and gotten together with the bleach blonde barbie looking cheerleader. It was so cliché that it made Ethan sick. She didn’t deserve this kind of treatment. Bryce had sworn to Ethan he would never break Casey’s heart. Yet here she was, in bed, skipping school and looking more disheveled than a well-used mop, crying over a boy who broke her heart and no longer loved her back. Ethan stepped in the room and closed the door, walking over and sitting on her bed next to her.

“You’re right. You’re not going to feel better with just chocolates, a hug or two and cheesy rom-com movies. Not even trash talking him is going to help you fully heal from the pain you’re feeling. But I’m here for you Casey. Always have been. Always will be. Sienna too. She’s planning to come and see you as soon as possible.”

Casey brought her gaze to Ethan’s face and his heart panged in his chest at how red and swollen her eyes were. He controlled the rage he felt inside towards Bryce and smiled at her kindly, she couldn’t manage a smile back, but she did sit up and crawl into his lap. This is what she had needed, hugs from her best friend on the east coast. She had gotten a few from her mom, though they didn’t feel as comfortable as Ethan’s did. He grabbed her blanket and wrapped it round her shoulders before continuing the hug. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he had just given himself the job of fixing a broken heart.

Monday came quicker than Casey would have liked. She pulled herself out of bed and got ready for school, practicing her game face in the mirror but there was no point. She was sad. The kind of sad you can’t hide no matter how much you smile, scowl or keep a neutral expression. Sighing, she grabbed her bag and headed downstairs, opening the front door to head out only to be met with a smiling Ethan.

“Ready?” he asked as she looked at him perplexed

“No.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

He grabbed her hand and together they walked to school. He would have linked their arms but that felt too joyous. It was something they done as they walked along happily before breaking out into a skip. And there was no way he was going to let her stubbornness make them late. Holding her hand felt like the only option left, though as they neared the front of the school, Ethan acted as though he was dragging Casey behind him.

“I really don’t want to be here.” She whined.

Perfect. She was helping his case and unintentionally too. There wouldn’t be gossip and rumors today surrounding Ethan and Casey’s relationship status with each other. The day was tough. Everyone was asking where she had been, if it was true she’d been dumped and if she was with Ethan now or still single. Ethan fielded all the questions like he was her personal press secretary, and protected her like her bodyguard all day. They were sitting together at lunch when a familiar looking bleach blonde caught Ethan’s eye. Halting his conversation with Casey briefly, he looked at his phone. He went onto his messages with Sienna, silently cursing under his breath when his suspicions were ultimately confirmed. He thought she went to the same school as Bryce. He was typing out a message when he heard Casey scoff loudly.

“Ugh. What is she doing here?”

“Who?” Ethan asked, stopping typing for a minute and looking up from his phone.

“Melissia Haywood. I thought I got rid of her when I left Cali.”

“You.. know her?”

“Yeah. She’s the reason I moved here. She bullied me the whole way through school, until one day, I couldn’t take it anymore and made a scene until mom agreed to let me move.”

“Uh.. then I guess you should h-” he was cut off by Melissia’s voice as she stopped in front of Casey “hear it from me.” he mumbled but Casey didn’t hear him finish speaking over the volume of the other girls voice.

“Casey!” she shrilled

“What do you want?” Casey said monotonously as she took a sip of her water.

“Well I came here to say thank you.”

“To whom?”

“To you of course. Silly.”

“Why me?”

“Because you dumped Bryce so he could be happy with me. Finally!”

In that moment everything and everyone else froze around her as she zeroed in on Melissia’s smug face. Every emotion that had started to even out, came flooding back with full force, only this time it felt 100 times more painful. Bryce had dumped her for Melissia? Why the fuck would he do that? He knew what she had done to Casey. He was even there most times to help her back on her feet again. Now he had dumped her and gotten together in a relationship with the bleach blonde whore. She rose to her feet and tackled Melissia to the floor. Punching, kicking, spitting, hair pulling. Anything she could do to hurt Melissia. A crowd was around them instantly, cheering Casey on when they saw that she had the clear advantage. Ethan tried pulling Casey off Melissia, but her legs were hooked around the girl beneath her tight. He got her off finally with the help of a teacher and took her inside to their classroom.

Back in the courtyard Melissia was laying on the ground, bloody, her hair a mess and some bruises already forming on her skin. Teachers worked to disperse the crowd and get them to classrooms. Casey sat in the classroom fuming. You could almost see the steam coming from her ears. Ethan wanted to hug her, but he didn’t want his contact to be unwanted.

“Do you need a hug?”

“No, Ethan. I don’t. I need to punch that whores face in until she can no longer see and needs a thousand surgeries to reconstruct it!”

“Why don’t I just get you a punching bag instead?”

“Is it going to be her face?”

“No... Not exactly. But we could stick a picture of her face on it.”

The anger now left her body and was replaced by hurt as she started crying. Yeah, she needed that hug now. Ethan opened his arms and she ran into them. Locking her hands round his torso and sobbing loudly into his chest.

“WHHYYYYYYYY. WHY WOULD HE DO THIS TO MEEEE?” she cried loudly, gripping onto his jacket tightly. Ethan wanted to tell her it was okay, that everything was going to be fine. But he knew that wouldn’t help Casey right now. All he could do was rub her back soothingly and whisper “I’m here” as they waited for someone to come and get them. They sat waiting and Casey’s cries eventually subsided into hiccups. The room was quiet but then her phone rang. She’d know the number anywhere, it was Bryce. The first time he’d called in a while, but she just ignored it. “Who is it?” Ethan asked when it just kept ringing. “Him.” She snarled, arms crossed and still ignoring the call, but Ethan picked up.

“Casey what the FUCK were yo-”

“No. You listen here you heartbreaking piece of scum! Casey had every right to do what she just done. Do you know how many nights she’s spent crying. Not just to sleep. But EVERY. FUCKING. HOUR. Of the day. Do you know how hurt she is but still can’t bring herself to throw away her Christmas sweater that matched yours. Do you even care that you’ve broken her to the point where she saw that violence was the answer?! Let me answer that for you Bryce Lahela. No. You don’t. because if you did you wouldn’t have broken up with her. You would have loved her for who she is. Like you did in the beginning and your feelings for her would never had changed. But now you’re at the age where all that matters is sex and drinking and partying until late. You no longer care about Casey do you? ... DO YOU!”

“I-”

“You know that Casey doesn’t want to do any of that yet. You know. And instead of respecting that and loving her.. you’d rather break her and date a whore. So have a great life with Melissia, Bryce. Because once she’s done having her fun with you. Cheats and walks out the door. Casey is not going to be there to take you back. Because I won’t let her make that mistake again. So lose this number. Unfollow her accounts. And never, I mean never, bother her again.”

Ethan didn’t even wait for a reply, he just angrily hung up the phone and placed it back on the table. Fury was blazing in his eyes, and for the first time Casey saw it. He was doing this because he loved her. She was in no shape to be jumping into another relationship right now, but she sat staring at him thinking that maybe, one day. Maybe she could ask Ethan to go on a date.

After the incident, the rest of school passed by in a blur and soon they had graduated. It was hard for Casey, but Ethan was there everyday with whatever it was she needed. Hugs, pizza rolls, trash talking sessions, help with catching up or homework. And it all paid off when they stood on their school field in their graduation gowns and caps. That night Ethan and his dad were at Casey’s for dinner. The mood was bright and cheerful, Ethan smiled at Casey as she was smiling her first genuine smile in months.

“I can’t believe I done it!” she exclaimed as she gave her mom a hug.

“I can. I always believed you would.” Ethan smiled.

“Aw, thanks.” Casey blushed.

“So, what are you kiddo’s doing during your gap year?” Ethan’s dad asked

“Well, we done a lot of talking and deciding and then rethinking that decision. But.. we’ve decided to go backpacking around Europe.” Casey explained as she looked at Ethan who nodded enthusiastically.

“We still want to be doctors, but we thought that a break would be good to reset the mood. And give Casey time to heal as best as she can from what’s happened.”

Casey’s mom smiled at the two. “Promise me you’ll look after my little girl.”

“Of course, Ms. Valentine, I’ll always look after her. For the rest of her life. She’s stuck with me, whether she likes it or not.” Casey scrunched up her nose as Ethan ruffled her hair with a low chuckle.

“Get oooofffff.” She whined as she pushed his arm away.

They all enjoyed a buffet style dinner that night and Ethan said goodbye to his dad, deciding to stay the night with Casey in the living room. After they had showered and gotten ready for bed, They settled down on the inflatable air beds and Casey laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m just remembering the first night we done this. You seemed so uneasy, but now look at you. Asking to stay the night and saying goodbye to your dad like a big boy.”

“I am a big boy Case. I just graduated senior year, in case you didn’t notice.”

The two laughed together as the TV spoke quietly in the background. The laughing subsided and they looked at each other. There was something dancing in Ethan’s eyes. It almost seemed as though he had a question, but was afraid to ask it.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Casey asked

“Hrm?” Ethan hummed, turning his attention back to Casey

“You look troubled.”

Ethan sighed heavily. “I just keep thinking about how I wish you didn’t have to go through something so scummy. And how I wish I knew how long it was going to take for the healing process to work because I just..”

“You, what?... Ethan.”

“I want to take you on a date. I wish I could just ask you to be my girlfriend because I want to love you so bad.”

“Ethan, I...”

“No. It’s okay. I just needed to say how I feel.”

“How about tomorrow?”

“What?”

“A date. Tomorrow. Me, you, something lowkey.”

“...Seriously? Are you being serious?” Ethan smiled brightly as he sat up looking at Casey.

“Yeah. After all. You’ve been doing a great job at fixing my broken heart, I wouldn’t want you to stop and.... I sort of like you too.”

Ethan let out a little scream and rolled onto the floor, crawling over to Casey and hugging her.

“You have no idea how happy I feel right now.”

“I may not. But I can see it on your face.”

“Can I give you a kiss?”

Casey thought for a moment. Was she ready for something like that again? After a while she came to a conclusion.

“Sure. But just a peck.”

Ethan smiled at her and pecked her lips. “You don’t have to say it yet Case, but I love you, and I’m never going to stop fixing your broken heart. Even when it’s not broken anymore.”

[artificialqueens]

Blue Neighborhood Series: HEAVEN (Brita/Aiden) - Mac

AN: Meggie is my love and my personal guardian angel. All my love and thanks to her for betaing and being my cheerleader.

Summary: Brita is straight. Aiden is annoying. Yet somehow they seem to make a pretty good pair.

Brita smiled instinctively down at her phone vibrating in her hand.

A: what are ure plans during lit class

She quirked an eyebrow up as she typed out a reply.

B: Lit class.

Aiden’s next message came only seconds later.

A: boo

A: that’s boring

Brita chuckled under her breath.

A: come to the bleachers

A: we can throw rocks at the PE class

B: Isn’t that dangerous?

A: no we should be fine

B: For THEM?

A: oh

A: yeah

A: thats the fun part

Brita couldn’t help the giggle she let bubble out.

B: Fine.

Aiden sent her back a smiley face with a tongue sticking out, and Brita again found herself marveling at how such a small gesture made such strong affection bloom in her chest.

Not that she would ever admit it.

Because then Aiden would get a big head and start listing off all the reasons she was superior to every living thing. Brita knew her well enough by now, after a week of non-stop texting, to know what she would do.

Her friends thought it was weird. Specifically, Jackie. Even though she had been there the night of Heidi’s revenge that the two made their initial connection.

“I just never pegged you being Aiden’s type, that’s all,” Jackie had joked.

Brita had insisted that it wasn’t like that. She had a boyfriend. She was straight.

“So is pasta till you heat it up,” Gigi teased.

Brita had rolled her eyes and ignored their comments. It wasn’t weird. She was just making a new friend. A new friend that wasn’t involved in every other aspect of her life the way, Jan, Jackie, and Gigi were. It was actually really nice to have an outsider’s perspective a lot of the time, and Aiden was the definition of an outsider, with her short jet black hair and pallid complexion, as well as her inability to stand anyone else for longer than a few minutes. Her narcissism and general disdain for humanity were surprisingly refreshing to someone like Brita, who, as Aiden had pointed out, was ‘perpetually joyous.’

Brita had called her pretentious for using the word perpetually but had smiled nonetheless at the title.

As she made her way out the side door of the school and headed toward the bleachers, she noted the skip in her step and found that she brushed it off without any real concern. Brita’s heart was hammering in her chest as she rounded the platform to look up into the bleachers.

Aiden stuck out like a small girl wearing mostly black in rows and rows of empty bleachers did.

“Took you long enough,” she teased as Brita climbed the steps.

Brita rolled her eyes. “The bell just rang, you idiot.”

“Idiot? You’re the one skipping class, stupid.”

“So are you!”

Aiden shook her head. “I always skip class.”

“Well, aren’t you so cool,” Brita teased. “What next, you’re gonna tell me you drive a motorcycle and wear leather jackets unironically?”

Aiden opened her mouth to speak but bit her tongue on a reply.

“No!” Brita exclaimed.

Blotches of color jumped to Aiden’s cheeks, and she hid her face in her hands.

“You don’t! Really?” Brita gasped dramatically. “You drive a motorcycle, oh my god, Aiden.”

“You’re the worst.” Aiden groaned.

“You are such a stereotype.” Brita chuckled.

“I am not the bad girl lesbian stereotype.”

“You so are.”

Aiden lifted her head to shoot Brita a death glare, but she only succeeded for a few seconds before they both burst into a fit of giggles.

“Well, your nickname is Brita so I’m not sure I should really care what you think.”

Brita grinned. “At least I don’t have a boy name. Did your parents plan on you being a lesbian?”

“Did your parents plan on you being a water filter? What the fuck kinda question is that?”

Brita chuckled, deep and loud and she wondered in the back of her mind why her chest felt so light, and her head so heavy. It was unlike anything she had felt before. But then again, Aiden seemed to always be pulling things from her that she hadn’t expected.

“So what’s the game plan?” Brita asked.

Aiden smiled and outstretched a hand.

She led Brita back down the steps and around to the rough gravel that covered the ground beneath the bleachers. Aiden pointed at the small gaps in the metal, just wide enough to throw something through if you aimed it right.

Brita learned this the hard way after attempting to throw some of the gravel pieces and having them ricochet back at her at alarming speeds.

Aiden just laughed at her and made fun of her aim.

When students began running around the track, warming up for class, Aiden actually managed to nail a few of them in the legs. Brita did her best to go with the flow, but after Aiden nailed some girl in the head, Brita managed to convince her to chill out for a second.

They sat on the rough gravel, Brita surprised to find herself unconcerned with the scrapes she would definitely have later.

They fell into comfortable bickering. Aiden making fun of Brita for masking her insecurity by being popular. Brita making fun of Aiden for being edgy as a defense mechanism to keep people from hurting her.

Normal friend stuff.

Brita noticed sometime after a while that they were actually sitting closer than she had thought previously. She could make out Aiden’s face more clearly. Could see the pores in her forehead and the wrinkle beside her left eye that was deeper than the others.

And just as soon as she noticed that she noticed Aiden’s lips inching closer to hers and she wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly their lips were pressed together like an accordion and she felt tingling from her spine to her toes.

Just as soon as it had happened, Brita felt a hand on her shoulder and a booming voice in her ear declaring detention.

Brita didn’t have enough time to process before she was being pulled by the back of her shirt toward the school. She ducked her head in shame and went about the rest of her day to the best of her abilities, all the while trying to ignore the pit in her stomach and the way she could still taste licorice on her lips if she thought too hard.

When the final bell rang, dismissing them, Brita made her way to the math department hallway, slowly, loath for anyone to catch her going to detention and possibly asking questions she wasn’t sure she had the answers to.

Brita took the first available seat, pointedly ignoring that Aiden was already there and sitting atop the box air conditioner unit by the window.

To make matters worse, they were the only two students that had gotten detention that day. This was according to Mr. Matthews, the home economics teacher who barely made the effort to show up before claiming he had business to attend to in his office, and left the two girls alone in the classroom with a warning to stay put.

When Aiden rolled her eyes pointedly, Mr. Matthews reminded the two of them that he would be contacting their parents about the matter if they couldn’t behave appropriately at school.

“Fuck.” Brita exhaled as soon as the door shut. “Fuck.”

“Shut up,” Aiden groaned.

“You shut up,” Brita snapped. “Fuck,” she repeated. “My parents can’t know.”

Aiden gave an aborted laugh. “It’s 2020 if they still give a fuck about having a gay daughter then-”

“I’m not gay,” Brita cut her off.

Aiden’s posture stiffened, almost reflexively.

“I’m not,” Brita repeated.

“You kissed me,” Aiden spoke softly, testing out the words on her tongue.

Brita shook her head. “Well, y-you didn’t stop me.”

“I didn’t wanna stop you,” Aiden said simply.

“Aiden!” Brita exclaimed, turning to get a full look of the other girl.

She just shrugged. “I am gay. I’m not gonna stop a pretty girl from kissing me.”

Brita did her best to ignore that Aiden calling her pretty made her stomach jump.

Her best didn’t seem to be enough because her brain, ever the helpful tool it was, decided that was a perfect time to bombard her with images to the contrary of her statement. Flashes of Aiden’s smile, her dimples, the night they chased each other around the grocery store to Jackie’s displeasure.

The way that Brita couldn’t describe how incredibly freeing it was to feel understood.

“What’s wrong?” Aiden asked.

“I’m not gay.”

The black-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because you don’t believe me.”

Aiden just shrugged. “You’re right, I don’t.”

“Why not?” Brita questioned. “I’m girly, I’m a cheerleader for christ sakes. I like pink, I’m a fan of pop music.”

“Oh c’mon all your fucking friends are gay, you’re not about to tell me any of those things make you less of a homo.”

“Not all my friends are gay. Jan is straight.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Aiden mumbled.

“Whatever.” Brita shrugged off the comment. “I like boys. I have a boyfriend.”

“Interesting that that isn’t the first thing you mention.”

“I’m flustered!” Brita exclaimed exasperatedly.

“You’re defensive. There’s a difference.”

“You aren’t helping.”

“When have you ever known me to be helpful?”

“I didn’t know you until a week ago.”

Aiden chuckled.

“What?” Brita asked exasperated.

“Nothing,” Aiden shook her head. “It’s just- you would be the one to forget.”

“Forget what?”

Aiden shot her a tight grin as she hopped off the air conditioning unit and walked over to Brita’s desk. “Growing up in the summer, you and me and all the other girls would pile onto our collective four bikes and ride to the ice cream shop.” Aiden shook her head, eyes crinkling up at the edges. “But you never wanted to ride, always said something about it being dangerous. So someone would have to walk with you because we were like six and pedophiles exist.”

Brita just stared at her in shock.

Aiden continued on. “Most of the time it was me. You and I would walk to the ice cream shop nearly every day in the summer.”

“Oh my god, you remember all that?”

Aiden shrugged simply, her shoulders coming up on either side of her head to wall her off from the outside world. “I remember a lot of things,” she attempted to say nonchalantly.

Brita could tell it meant more than the younger girl was letting on, but she let it go for now.

“Sometimes you insisted on holding hands too. That’s pretty gay,” Aiden threw out.

Brita bit back a chuckle, but the twinkling in Aiden’s eyes made it clear she hadn’t been as slick as she thought. “Why do you always know the right and wrong thing to say?”

“I’m good with people.”

Brita scoffed. “No, you’re not.”

“Well, not with them, but I understand them.”

“How?”

Aiden paused and picked at the skin around her thumbnail. “You learn a lot about people by watching them.”

“That’s creepy,” Brita said after a moment of thick tension.

Aiden shrugged.

“Like what?”

Aiden quirked an eyebrow up in confusion.

“Like what have you learned?” Brita reiterated.

Aiden chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Then show me.”

Aiden’s head whipped around, a smirk etched into the corner of her mouth.

“As you wish.”

She grabbed Brita’s hand and led her down the hallway, ignoring her concern that skipping out on detention was likely to land them in more detention. They headed to the opposite end of the school, through the hallways to the back of the art room, where Aiden stopped Brita from charging out with a hand.

She put her finger to her lips and then mimed taking a whiff.

Brita did as she suggested and inhaled deeply. She was almost knocked over by the stench of weed that filtered through the propped door.

“Mr. Mathhews smokes a joint out there every day after school,” Aiden whispered.

She took Brita’s hand again and led her next door to the theatre, up the stairs to the old prop room. They paused again outside the door and Brita could hear whispered curses and the repeated sound of skin slapping skin.

“Mr. Kressley and Mr. Rice get it on in the prop room every Tuesday while they tell their wives they’re in charge of academic club.”

Aiden took Brita’s hand again and pulled her across the hallway to a set of doors that lead toward the sports stadiums. She propped open the glass doors and leaned against the frame, letting the cool autumn air filter into the building.

Aiden pointed to the far line of trees that made up the side of the baseball field.

“And out in the sports shed, Dahlia sells her old essays to freshmen.”

Brita just looked at her in awe. No wonder Aiden thought she was better than everyone. She was sitting on all this information constantly, keeping everyone’s secrets.

“It’s funny, you know all this dirt on people,” she mused. “You could almost… I dunno, run a drama account or something,” Brita teased.

Aiden chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I could.”

Brita rolled her eyes.

When Aiden turned back around to look at her, they were close again, the same weird feeling taking root in Brita’s chest as she felt Aiden’s warm breath against her cheeks. This time, however, when Aiden moved closer, Brita stopped her with a hand to the younger girl’s chest.

Almost as soon as they made contact, something hard passed behind Aiden’s eyes and she pulled away like her skin burned.

“Aiden.” Brita sighed.

“I’m nobody’s girlfriend,” Aiden breathed, “but I thought we could at least be…”

Brita shook her head lightly. “I am somebody’s girlfriend.”

Aiden nodded once and set her jaw firmly before turning on her heel and heading down an adjacent hallway.

Brita let her go.

She went back to detention and finished the rest of her time, mind still processing the events of the day and her own feelings relating to them.

Sooner than she expected, Mr. Matthews dismissed her and warned her about landing here again. Brita took his advice seriously and nodded, thanking him as she exited the classroom, pulling out her phone reflexively.

She had two Instagram notifications; she had been sent a post and had been tagged in a post. She clicked on the link and felt her stomach fall to her feet.

The school drama account had updated.

It was a grainy picture from sometime in the past week of Brita and Aiden tucked away into a corner of the school. Brita’s head was thrown back in a laugh, and an all too familiar smirk was plastered on Aiden’s face.

The caption made the churning in Brita’s stomach all the more painful.

Opposites attract.

[lowellchanning]

Q U O T E

Courage is not the absence of fear but the judgment that something else is more important than fear.

B A S I C S

NAME lowell thibodeaux channing NAME MEANING since lowell’s father passed before he was born, lowell’s mom, birdie, wanted to honor her late husband in naming their son. channing means young wolf, so she chose lowell, meaning little wolf, as a way to carry on her husband’s legacy. thibodeaux, meaning bold or brave, is birdie’s maiden name. NICKNAMES in college when he grew a beard each basketball season he garnered the name sasquatch, sometimes shortened to squatch. some of his coworkers call him that around the station. GENDER cis male PROUNOUNS he/him AGE thirty-two BIRTHDAY august 13 BIRTH PLACE new orleans, lousiana

F A M I L Y

PARENTS guy channing (father; deceased), birdie (mother; surname tbd); charles (step-dad; surname tbd) SIBLINGS step-sister (name tbd; wanted connection here!) PETS gus, a rhodesian ridgeback

A P P E A R A N C E 

FACE CLAIM derek theler BUILD 6′5, athletic. lowell’s muscles have always tended to be defined without him having to put too much effort into it, though that doesn’t mean he doesn’t put in the hours needed both for his health and his profession. lowell balances his love of junk food and midnight snacks with lean proteins and plenty of greens. HAIR light brown. the longer it gets, the more curl and texture it has, and lowell takes the time to style it properly. when he grows a beard his whiskers tend to be more on the ginger rather than brunette side of things. EYES blue DISTINGUISHING MARKS surgical scar on his left elbow from fixing a break sustained during a basketball game when he was 12. TATTOOS wolf paw print between his shoulder blades STYLE modern, casual comfort. shorts, tanks, jeans, t-shirts, and flannels. ACCESSORIES his father’s watch. lowell doesn’t wear it on his wrist, but it’s usually in one of his pockets, or kept safe and tucked away in his nightstand. HYGIENE lowell sometimes showers multiple times a day, and has for years depending on sport practices, games, and workouts, and then on work calls SCENT le labo santal 33; sandalwood and leather

P S Y C H O L O G Y

LANGUAGES english and some creole phrases/expressions VOCABULARY average-ish. he can figure out ‘big’ words with good context, and got used to looking things up from a young age. MEMORY keeping a calendar and to-do lists on his phone is needed more so for organizational and focus TEMPERAMENT sanguine  LEARNING STYLE mainly kinaesthetic, but there are some auditory elements that work for lowell. EMOTIONAL STABLITY pretty high, though that’s because lowell’s worked hard (after some rough teenage years) to have a steady foundation, which his job definitely depends on. sometimes he still bottles things up and will release it all during a workout, but over the years he’s learned when to confront something head-on rather than allowing it to fester. 

C H A R A C T E R

PRIORITIES carrying for others and most importantly his family, both familial and found MOTIVATION making his family proud SELF CONFIDENCE lowell’s always had confidence in his physical abilities. it’s his intelligence where his confidence will at times waiver, but he feels like he’s found a profession that allows him to shine. SELF CONTROL lowell had to learn some level of discipline pretty early on when it came to managing sports and academics. those lessons his mom helped instill have carried through to adulthood and lowell’s career choices. HOBBIES playing music, basketball, outdoor adventures, camping, gardening MANNERISMS usually a bouncing leg/knee when sitting still, especially for too long. running his hands through his hair when talking. touching his neck when nervous. scratching his forehead or cheek when stumped and trying to come up with an answer so he won’t feel dumb. also saying his sirs or ma’ams or missus as his mother taught and expected of him. HABITS after failed medication attempts, lowell found that yoga helps center and focus his mind, plus has improved his overall flexibility, which helps on the job, so he does at least a short routine every morning. on saturdays or sundays, depending on his shifts, he’ll make a big breakfast spread, have hot chocolate (sometimes with coffee), and do a crossword puzzle, because having to look up clues on his phone isn’t cheating, it’s just learning. ABILITIES strength and endurance. musicality. empathy.  INEPTITUDES lowell isn’t the brightest crayon in the toolshed, and had to put forth a lot more effort than most when it came to learning and course work in school. he also can’t dance. whatever grace and agility he has when it comes to athletics, and the fact that he can drum and keep a beat, goes completely away the moment he steps on a dance floor.  SOFT SPOTS animals, tiny humans, and other people who have suffered loss GREATEST ACHIEVEMENT graduating college, then the firefighter academy, and passing his EMSVO, EMT, and AEMT certifications WESTERN ZODIAC leo CHINESE ZODIAC dragon PRIMAL SIGN orca HOGWARTS hufflepuff ONE SONG "in the air tonight" phil collins ONE BOOK the giving tree shel silverstein ONE MOVIE mrs. doubtfire

P R E F E R E N C E S

LIKES the tired feeling in his muscles and bones after a productive and intense workout or physical call. tacos. pizza. nachos. whoopie pies. his mom’s etouffee and po-boys. root beer floats. spending the day out in nature. gaming. sports. DISLIKES moxie. salt and vinegar chips. ranch dressing. still not a huge fan of maine winters but dealing with it. KINKS consensual voyeurism. PET PEEVES people who are rude to service workers. the trend of crank 9-1-1 calls on tiktok.

H O M E  +  W O R K  +  E D U C A T I O N

HOMETOWN new orleans, lousiana (until 14); somerton, maine CURRENT RESIDENCE bridgeport, row house TRADITIONS sunday family dinners HIGH SCHOOL bursted park high (basketball and jazz band) COLLEGE somerton university (basketball) DEGREES b.s. with a concentration on social work/sciences CERTIFICATIONS FFI, FFII, hazardous material operations, public safety diver, EMSVO, EMT, AEMT PROFESSION firefighter/emt (10+ years) EMPLOYER somerton fire and rescue EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES pick-up basketball, cover band drummer

B I O

New Orleans was all Lowell had ever known. Aside from only a few out of state vacations, the city had always been home. And honestly, growing up in Nola meant Lowell got the best of the both worlds: big city living with a small town feel thanks to the neighborhoods and wards of Nola. Families on their street were friendly and nosy, and honestly Lowell’s mom, Birdie, didn’t mind at all because one, she had nothing to hide, and two, was more than happy that when other people learned of her situation -- a widowed and working single mom -- they were more than willing to help out. Which was how instead of becoming a latchkey kid, between after school hours and school vacation, Lowell became a surrogate member of more than a few neighboring families. And while Birdie wished she had been able to make it home from the hospital for more dinners, she was always home in time to sit down at the kitchen table and help Lowell struggle through his assigned school work.

The story was always the same each new school year, with every parent-teacher conference and IEP meeting. Lowell was always a pleasure to have in class, but he was either struggling with math or reading comprehension or his overall attention was lacking. But while Lowell and the general classroom weren’t on the best of terms, he excelled in other areas. Given his size and the fact that he towered over most of his classmates, it wasn’t shocking when the gym teacher had glowing remarks and commented that Lowell’s abilities were well beyond his years, but Birdie was surprised to learn from the music teacher that her son was both attentive and eager to learn in her class, too. After informing Lowell that participation in extracurriculars was dependent upon remaining in good academic standing, sports and music became an award system of sorts. It also didn’t hurt that burning through energy on the field or court, or banging it out with his drums meant that Lowell was less inclined to take out his frustrations of not understanding a word problem or summary question on a kitchen chair or wall.

The summer before eighth grade Lowell started to notice that his mom was coming home early from shifts now and again, getting gussied up, and leaving him with instructions for cooking frozen pizza or bagel bites while she went out. She was always home in time to look over homework and make sure Lowell was in bed on time, so Lowell never wondered too hard about it. Until the day she came home and said they’d be having a guest for dinner. Lowell met whom would become his step-dad that night. Two weeks later he met whom would become his step-sister. And before the start of the new school year, but after a small ceremony in the backyard, the new family had packed up all their belongings to move nearly 2000 miles up north. Chuck, an anesthesiologist,  had a new job at Kane-Russell Memorial in Somerton, and there was no doubt that he could pull strings and get Birdie on the RN rotation there, too.

While having a new family should have been the biggest change in Lowell’s life, everything about Maine was so different from Louisiana. Somedays it felt like Lowell was waking up in a whole new country, especially with his accent and missing his favorite local foods. But eventually school started and Lowell fell back into familiar routines of sports, music, and school work, and soon enough it wasn’t so scary putting roots down in a new place with a new family.

By the time Lowell graduated high school he had a scholarship for Somerton U. Even though he could have lived at home, he lived on-campus to have the full college experience, which also included playing as 4-year starter Seahorse on the basketball team. Lowell might have graduated with a social sciences degree, but after their team bus came upon an accident one winter night and Lowell witnessed firsthand everything the emergency response squads were doing to not only save people, but just to calm their nerves, he sort of felt like maybe he had a found something that could be a good fit for him. Lowell was already working towards his EMT certification when he graduated, and after moving back home began to apply to the Somerton firehouse. Lowell’s been part of the Somerton Fire, Rescue, and EMT Services family for ten years now and loves that every day is a bit of a new adventure. When he’s not working, Lowell’s playing drums in a cover band that sometimes performs at On the Rocks or hanging out with dog, Gus.

[angelbabyszn]

4 Years (Ruby X Reader)

OMB Masterlist

"Y/N, I heard a new student is here today." said Monse as you open up your binder and start doing the warm up on the board in math class. 

"Really? How come I never saw them today?" you asked.

"I don't know, you tell me. I heard it's a boy and cute." said Monse as she started doing the warm up in her notebook.

"You still think Cesar is cute, don't you?" you asked with a grin.

"Stop it." said Monse as playfully pushed you and made you chucked.

A few minutes later, the teacher closed the door and went up to the board to start explaining the warm up.

Somebody rushed into the classroom and everybody turned their attention to the door. You were too focused on correcting the warm up so you didn't look who was at the door.

"Oh look. It's the new student. Come up here." said the math teacher, Mr. Walker. The new boy slowly walked up to the front of the classroom.

"Everyone, I want you to introduce our new student of Freeridge High: Ruby Martinez." said Mr. Walker. You quickly looked up once you heard the new student's name and gasped.

"Ruby Martinez?! As in the same Ruby from elementary?!" you scream-thought as you looked at him with wide eyes.

"Y/N, are you okay?" asked Mr. Walker and everybody turned in their seats to look at you.

You quickly shake your head to get you out of your trance.

"Yeah. Um...can I use the bathroom?" you asked and you quickly left before Mr. Walker could respond. 

"I'll go after her." said Monse and quickly ran out of the classroom to catch up after you.

Monse quickly ran into the nearest girls bathroom and saw you pacing back and forth in the bathroom.

"Y/N." said Monse, making you stop and look at her with wide eyes.

"What was that about?" asked Monse and she checked the stalls to see if anyone else was in the bathroom but luckily nobody wasn't.

"Nothing." you said shyly and Monse walked up to you and crossed her arms against her chest with her signature serious face.

"Fine. I know him. A long time ago." you said.

"Ruby? The new student?" asked Monse and you nodded. Both of you walked to the bench that was inside the bathroom and sat on it.

"How?" asked Monse as she looked at you confused.

"Elementary. He used to be my best guy friend. Until he moved away for a while. We have each other's numbers and continue to contact each other til I guess he got a new phone. I'm guessing that because Ruby didn't respond back to my texts. He didn't bother to add me to his new phone so he kinda ghosted and forgot about me." you explained. 

"Our friendship lasted from first grade to fourth grade. I've had a crush on him but I didn't want to ruin our friendship. Is that normal that I've been thinking about him ever since he left Freeridge cause I think it's not. To think about somebody from when you're really young up til now." you said and you bend down and put your head inside your hands. 

"It's normal. You let out your feelings built up inside all these years and haven’t haven't talked to him at all." said Monse and you looked at her crazy after you lifted your head again. 

"Since when did you become the love doctor?" you asked. 

"Since junior high. People make relationships way too hard when it's really simple." said Monse.

"You need to give love advice to yourself for Cesar." you said and Monse shoved you.

"Y/N!"

"What? You do. You liked him since that time. What's holding you back?" you asked.

"I like him but I just don't want to be hurt." said Monse.

"Well you should talk to him before you judge him." you said with a grin.

"Hey, stop switching it up on me! We in here cause of your stupid a*s for running out of the classroom." said Monse and your smile disappeared quickly.

"Y/N, you should go talk to him. Exchange numbers and then hang out. See? Simple." said Monse and she got up and she started to walk out of the bathroom.

"Easy for you to say. You should do the same thing with Cesar too."

"I’m going to kill you!" shouted Monse and you started to run out of the bathroom with Monse chasing after you going back to the classroom.

You and Monse slow down as you enter the classroom to see people working on math problems. Monse turned her head to the side and her jaw dropped a bit. 

"Y/N." said Monse and you quickly turned her direction to see what she was looking at and you gasped.

You two saw Olivia hitting up and working on math problems with Ruby and Cesar.

"B*tch." you and Monse said in sync and both of you quickly walked back to your seats.

"You know what?" said Monse as she turned back to you trying to be strong.

"We don't need them. We got each other and as long as we got each other, we will get over this." said Monse and you quickly nodded in agreement. Both of you did your signature handshake and started working on the math problems together.

What you didn't know is when you were laughing at Monse's joke a few minutes later, Ruby was looking at you and put on a warm smile on his face.

"Ruby?" said Olivia and Ruby quickly turned back to her.

"I was wondering if you and Cesar want to go to this Halloween party with me tomorrow. Will you?" asked Olivia.

Ruby nodded resulting Olivia smiling and she touched Ruby's arm. She slowly brought her hand down his arm till it reached the table and winked at him.

Ruby looked at Olivia surprised, making her giggled. she looked at Cesar and started talking to him. Ruby took a look at you again and went back to his math problems again in his notebook.

-

"Where's my buddy in crime?" you whine on the table as other students that were in your History class came in the next day.

You looked up and saw Jamal and then you smiled.

"Jamal!" you said excitedly as you hugged him tight once he sat down next to you.

"Hello to you too." said Jamal as he hugs you back.

The History teacher puts up the warm up and everybody including Jamal and you start doing your warm up.

"Anything new with Rollerworld?" you whispered to Jamal as you work.

"None. It seems like this money doesn't want to find me." whispered Jamal.

"I'm sure you'll find it. I'll help you after school." you whispered.

Jamal thanked you and continues working. You were almost finished when you heard the door open up quickly.

You looked up and saw Ruby making your heart skip a bit.

Ruby apologized for being late to the teacher, Ms. Patterson and sat down a few feet in front of you in the classroom.

"From elementary to now, he turned hot. He was cute back then but wow." you thought as you took a glance at him

"His hair grown, arms look more buff so he looks like he works out now. And his smile..." you thought going deep into your imagination.

"Y/N?" asked Jamal and you quickly got out of your trance and focused your attention to Jamal with a weird look on his face.

"I'm fine." you said quickly and try to finish up your warm up. Jamal shrugged and ignored it like it ever happened.

-

“There we go." you said to yourself after you finish zipping up your left red thigh high heel.

You walked out of your bedroom to your mirror in the bathroom and you screamed because you look different.

"Y/N, what's wrong?!" shouted your mom as she rushed into the bathroom.

You face her and you have on a cute nurse mini dress with your red heels, a cute mini nurse tiara and your long straight red hair wig on for Halloween.

"Aw, you look adorable honey." said your mom with a smile.

"Thank you." you said and a few minutes later, you arrived at your school and then into the gym.

You looked around to see people dancing, talking, eating, drinking, and making out.

When you entered the gym, people looked and started to stare as you walked to the dance floor.

Right before you can reach it, somebody grabbed you by the shoulders. You quickly turned around and punched whoever touched you.

"Y/N!" Jamal whined as your eyes widened when you knew that you punched Jamal. 

"Omg, I'm so sorry!" you said worried and Jamal touched his left cheek with his left hand.

"I told you you were going to get punched." said Monse as she shook your head in Jamal’s ridiculousness.

You looked at Monse to see her costume which looks like a lifeguard but halfway did it while Jamal was wearing a hospital gown you guessed and an arm cast.

"What are y'all wearing?" you asked, starting to laugh making them look at you crazy.

"Y/N, I'm a lifeguard and Jamal is a hospital patient for some odd reason." said Monse. 

"Hey! At least I got a costume on. All you got on is your sweatshirt and shorts from last summer job!" said Jamal and you laughed until a new song came on.

You quickly go to the dance circle to see Jasmine in the dance circle and everybody was hyping her up. Monse and Jamal finally caught up to you in the circle and they stand right beside you in the middle.

"You got to admit, Jasmine can dance." you said. 

"Yeah, but still annoying." said Monse with her serious face and you realized your favorite part was about to come on.

"My favorite part!" you shouted and you quickly pushed Jasmine out from the middle. You stood in the middle for a moment for your part to come up.

Your favorite part of the song came up and you start breaking it down once the beat hits, making everybody scream and hype you up.

You danced in the dance circle til you got tired and everybody cheered for you. The song changed and the dance circle deform.

Once nobody was around you no more, Jamal hugged you with a big grin on his face.

"Y/N, you killed it!" said Jamal.

"Thank you." you said with a smile and you felt a small tap on your shoulder.

You turned around and your heart instantly started beating fast. It was Ruby in a vampire costume.

"Hey Y/N." said Ruby.

"Hey Ruby." you said shyly. You were freaking out in your head because he remembers you.

"I just wanna say-"

"Ruby! Let's go dance!" shouted Olivia. Ruby turned around while you looked ahead to see Olivia walking up in her cowgirl outfit with shorts that was a bit too short for a school party.

Olivia quickly grabs Ruby's hand and pulls you away from you. 

You turned back around to Monse and Jamal but Jamal wasn't there and you obviously know why.

"Y/N?" asked Monse, feeling concerned.

"After four years thinking about him and now he just shows up and just says hey." you said upset and Monse touched your shoulder, confronting you. 

"I hate the fact I still want him and he doesn't know it at all." you said and tears start to come down your eyes.

"Come on, let's get out of here." said Monse and you nodded. You go back to your house with Monse and watch movies together while eating candy to make you feel better about the whole situation.

=

You arrived at school early next week to ease your mind about what happened at the party.

You went into the music room and then once you sit down on a chair with pen and paper, your thoughts start flowing onto the paper magically. 

A few minutes later, you have a complete song and you were surprised because you never wrote something this fast and sounded good.

You quickly grab the guitar standing at the corner of the room and sit there with your song on the paper. You make sure the guitar is in tone and start to play a few melodies but it doesn't sound right with your song. 

You stopped and looked at your lyrics and a moment later, your melody came into your head and you started playing it on the guitar.

After replaying the same melody four times you start singing.

'Cause after all these years

I still feel everything when you are near

And it was just a quick "Hello," and you had to go

And you probably will never know

You're still the one I'm after all these years, oh

'Cause after all these years

I still feel everything when you are near (you are near)

And it was just a quick "Hello," and you had to go (ooh)

And you probably will never know (oh)

You're still the one I'm after all these years

As you were singing and playing the guitar, you didn't realize that Ruby was standing there at the door looking at you and listening to your voice.

I never told you, I should've told you

I never told you after all these years

Told you, I never told you (told you)

Told you, I never told you

I never told you after all these years

You played the ending and you looked up and saw Ruby standing at the door. Immediately scared your soul from your body. You quickly got up and put the guitar back in the corner.

"Ruby, what are you doing here?" you said shyly. Ruby quickly ran up to you and just stood in front of you without words coming out of his mouth.

Right before you said something, Ruby grabbed your face and kissed you. You were surprised but you kissed him back. 

"You're the one I'm after all these years too." said Ruby and you quickly kissed him again and Ruby kissed you back passionately.

You were finally satisfied and happy that you started dating the guy you wanted to be with all these years.

[prorevenge]

My teacher said I participate too much so I got her fired.

So here’s a little bit of context, I went to the same school from kindergarten to high school senior year, so I pretty much grew up looking at the same faces, from other students and staff. It was a private school and the classes were quite small so our interactions with the teachers was on a first name basis. Being an involved student, I had a great relationship with most of them. This will be important later.

Now to the story.

Second year of middle school, first day of classes; a new teacher is hired. To give you an overall description of her, just imagine Jabba the Hutt with small, pointed glasses. As we entered the classroom she continuously told us to be quiet. Mind you, the class hadn’t even started. She introduced herself as someone who doesn’t like music or children. I am not kidding or exaggerating. She actually said that. She went over the course material and the grading criteria. I honestly don’t remember, but participation did not count.

She starts teaching and my class low-key hates her. I didn’t like her either, but I liked learning. I participated quite often because A, I was actually curious about something or B, nobody answered and the wait time made me feel so uncomfortable to the point I would cringe. I don’t know why, but from the start she would mock my answers or my constant participation. Even my classmates who I didn’t even talked to called her out on this, and my friends straight up claimed she hated me.

So about three or four weeks into the semester she asks a question to the class and no one answers, as usual. I raise my hand after thirty second of awkward silence and she says something among the lines of “what a surprise”. I felt a little offended but I didn’t think much of it. She ignores me. “anyone else?” No one else was even paying attention to her so no reply. I understand that teachers want everyone to participate but the way she dismissed me felt like an insult. “ohkaykay_D, honey, we have heard to much from you already”. Now this doesn’t sound as bad, but her tone was definitely mocking me. I was constantly called a nerd and stuff like that and I was also told I talked too much by other students. (I also went pro revenge on them later, but that’s another story.) Her comments really hurt me, I decided to talk to her after class. You know, set things straight and be in good terms with her. I was in my best disposition to sort things out.

In the most polite and respectful manner, why she didn’t like me. I was so confused I mean she was the teacher. She also mentioned that I “participated too much” and that “my attitude was too arrogant and that I shouldn’t try that hard to prove myself” Class participation was not graded so I should just stop participating. Lastly, she called me for being rude and disruptive in her class. I was so confused. I was literally the only student who took her class seriously. I asked her what behavior was disruptive and she said that I was rude for the way I stared at her and that it distracted her. That was it. Being a troubled teenager, I decided to unleash my rage on her.

Pro revenge mode activated.

Part one: giving her my full attention.

I started small. The next class I sat quietly on my desk. No talking, no participating, no note taking. Just staring. I stared at her with murder eyes for the entire class. She would get so uncomfortable she would turn her back at me. I would copy the notes after the class from a friend, so my whole attention was on her. I wasn’t even bothered by the wait time. No one answered her questions and I would just stare at her thinking murder. After one week of this I knew she regretted her words to me because she would call out my name so I would answer her question. When I gave no answer she asked me if I was deaf. She would shout at me for not taking notes and overall be so pissed at me.

And. I. Just. Stared.

We had her class every day, so there was no escaping from me. Even in between classes. If I saw her anywhere in school I would just stop everything that I was doing and just stare.

She resisted one week. And I was called to the principal’s office.

Perfect.

Part 2: turning her own against her.

As I mentioned earlier, I had a very good relationship with the teachers. And I had learned that the other teacher’s didn’t really like her. I would discreetly tell them that I didn’t like her either because she discouraged me and that I didn’t like the way she spoke about her other teachers. Which was true. She would constantly belittle other classes such as PE, chemistry and math; basically, anything that wasn’t English was less important for her. I might have exaggerated some details, but most of what I said was true. This is when I found out that she would steal other teacher’s coffee mugs and sometimes even their lunches. My words were like wood thrown into a fire.

Part 3: Crocodile tears

A day or so after she told me she hated me I went into the counselor’s office and cried. I think I mentioned this before, but I was a troubled teenager and she had gained my trust. She also knew what type of student I was, so she was extremely concerned when I told her what Mrs. Magdalena had said to me and that I was so discouraged I was thinking about changing schools. I cried for like an hour straight and once I was “calmed down” I asked her for confidentiality. Which, I don’t know in other places but in my school it is sacred if the student reaches out and requests help. I knew she didn’t like it but she had to comply. I went about three or more times, describing every single thing she did to me. I exaggerated the details, but not enough for it to be unbelievable.

Part 4: the great finale

I was called into the principals office, who was like a second father to me. I walk into his office and I see him, Mrs. Magdalena with a malicious smile on her face, my counselor, and the department coordinator. I don’t remember the exact conversation, but my principal explained that Mrs. Magdalena had reported me for bad behavior and bad academic standing. She said that if I kept this way she would have no choice but to fail me. I knew she would be more than happy to fail me, but that the staring really made her uncomfortable. When I asked what I had done Mrs Magdalena said that I did not work in class. My principal asked to see my notebook and I showed it to him. Every single exercise and irrelevant detail written down.

My principal: “They seem to be complete” He raised an eyebrow in Mrs Magdalena way, who was shocked and annoyed. “was there anything else?”

She obviously didn’t had anything else. She was counting on me not having my work, and apart from that, she had nothing. She still tried to add to the situation.

Mrs Magdalena: “Yes, she does not participate in class and her behavior is disruptive.” When she said these words I saw my counselor lean towards me.

My principal: reading the grading criteria “Participation is not included in the percentages…”

Mrs Magdalena: Red with frustration. “She stares at me too much!”

All the time I kept quiet and with my eyes to the floor, as if I was genuinely scared and intimidated by her.

My counselor: “This is ridiculous. Ohkaykay_D, dear, may I share what you told me?” I nodded shyly and tried to make myself look even smaller. She told her everything that I had said and how bad it had affected me. I couldn’t have been more satisfied with what she said even if I had given her a monologue. It sounded as if I had being verbally abused and my mental health was at serious risk.

My principal: “Is this true?”

I nodded and almost in a whisper said “yes”. My principal nodded and told me that I could leave. As I left the office I saw Mrs. Magdalena’s face. She was so shocked. I made eye contact with her on my way out and I couldn’t hide a smile. Only she saw it and her face contorted with rage. You could literally see steam being puffed out of her ears and nostrils.

I later found out by both my principal and the teacher coordinator that they fired her because apparently, I was not the only one who had complained. My classmates had also been talking to other teachers about how she said she didn’t like children or teaching and that she was not good at her job. The teachers had passed the commentary back to their supervisors because they were concerned. They had also reported her behavior as a coworker and how she had a negative effect on the working environment.

And I never saw her again :)

​

(source) story by (/u/ohkaykay_De)

[justkimberley]

HSMTMTS Thoughts Episode 7

Episode 1   Episode 2    Episode 3   Episode 4   Episode 5  Episode 6

This one is also kinda long (~2200 words)

Nini and Ricky doing a fantastic job harmonizing in Start of Something New

the dance routine around them is absolutely crazy and all over the place

So it seems that Seb is just their resident piano player (side note, who ended up getting Kelsey??)

Big Red with the flashlight trying so hard to keep it on the disco ball

EJ interrupting because of the bell. Does anyone really love Thanksgiving that much??

Also I always forget that American Thanksgiving is like a month later than Canadian Thanksgiving and I was hella confused for a second.

Ricky is so surprised that Nini is complimenting him

Ashlyn as Robotics Team captain! (side note Big Red gives her an impressed look after he overhears that she’s the captain)

Also: debate team, baking club, high priestess of the Renaissance Faire

We love a multifaceted lady

Miss Jenn/Mr. Mazzarra trying to have a ‘my horse is bigger than your horse’ banter except neither of them have the horses they claim to have

“With whoever could possibly love you,” lol ok Miss Jenn went for the head

“Late night party” - party starts at 8 that’s adorable

“Small group or…” “PARTY AT ASHLYN’S HOUSE!”

It’s really interesting learning about Nini’s Lola (? I think that’s how it’s spelled, which is what I believe Filipino people call their grandmother’s), and her story

I’m just really proud of Ricky’s Dad. Like he was in such a bad place 2-3 episodes ago and now he’s taking care of himself and Ricky (even if it isn’t a grandiose Thanksgiving) he’s trying and I think he’s doing great

“We roll hard” I just really love this line

“I suppose if you’re lonely, you could always just… randomly text my drama teacher,” “Too soon… RIck,” “... yeah okay”

That was pretty funny. Also, it seems like Ricky’s okay with his dad dating?

Ricky’s mom waiting for him to call

I don’t know how I feel about this to be honest. I feel like maybe she should have tried to call him first and then if he didn’t answer or want to talk to her, that she should wait for him to make the next move then.

EJ’s truth arc is very funny to me

Big Red and Ashlyn

“I promise not to steal your phone if you promise not to throw a basketball at my face,” “No, the only thing I’d ever throw at your face is a brighter spotlight cause, I like the way you sing

Oof they’re so cute, we love little crushes

Also this might be an unpopular opinion but y’all need to calm down about the whole ‘Ashlyn and Big Red are GAY and they only THINK theyy like each other’ thing. #1 It was never confirmed for them to be gay. #2 You can still have wlw and mlm head-cannons for them! Bi, Pan, and other multiple gender attraction oriented people exist, even if you forget about us sometimes.

They are a cute little pairing of people who are always looking out and taking care of other people. It’s okay for them to do things for themselves.

Ricky debating calling his mom, it took a lot of courage and then Todd picks up.

Hangs up immediately, it almost looked like he was going to have a panic attack. That would be so hard, such an extreme shift

I guess the reason he was more okay with his Dad dating was that his Dad was open and honest with him about it. Calling your Mom only to find out that she has a boyfriend that a. She never told you about b. He knows about you and c. is trusted enough to be left alone with her phone while she showers? Is a lot, and probably means that she started dating him before the split was official.

Ricky going to call Nini and then deciding against it. Why doesn’t he feel like he can talk to Big Red about this kind of stuff? Why does he always go to Nini first?

Gina shows up, those are good looking cupcakes

She made him a hat!

She looks so hesitant before she gives it to him!

Gina’s like ‘look dude, I know something’s wrong, spill the beans’

Ignore it and push through - I understand where she’s coming from but you really shouldn’t ignore your problems, it usually just makes them worse

“Do what makes you happy,” “... Give me that hat,”

Adorable, also do what makes you happy is good advice so we’re a little all over the map here

“That’s too big,” “I’ll grow into it,” (adorable)

Miss Jenn and Mr. Mazzarra’s whole interaction is hilarious.

Don’t burn down my shop! - holy shit, foreshadowing buddies

Ashlyn is so cute! She’s so happy when people compliment her

“I highly recommend not telling someone you love them for the first time on instagram” - yup! That’s what I said in the first one of these I did.

Carlos - “The party may begin!” - I totally thought he said “The party made me gay,” the first time I watched it so uhh yeah

Big Red is lactose intolerant

Carlos’ board game is amazing

“High School Musical the Choosical,” - fantastic name

Everyone is so accepting

Ashlyn and Big Red choosing to be on the same team

“South Side Knights -” “It’s the West High Nights,” “the West High Knights”

Ej is like a compulsive truther now. And it’s kind of hilarious

His face when he says “She laughed!” is hilarious and kind of adorable

“I gotta go join the party, and admit some terrible things, you ladies, catch up!” - I wish we got to see what he was admitting to, I find this whole thing quite funny

I’m glad that Emily and Nini got some reconciliation, I know Nini felt guilty even though it wasn’t her fault

That is not a good cockney accent

Why did Ricky enter alone when him and Gina walked together?

And he left her to open the door on her own with all those cupcakes?

“Buddies,” “We,”

Ricky and Gina both laughing about YouTube, cuties

Look, feelings are feelings and you can’t help what you feel, but pushing someone away and insisting to remain only friends means that you shouldn’t be upset when he makes a new friend

Mr. Mazzara and Miss Jenn

The plug socket is in the frame, more foreshadowing

“He won’t.. Not… fall” this show loves it’s double negatives huh? I don’t not love you, he won’t not fall etc.

“Ok but the center of gravity is off,” YES to different kinds of intelligence being helpful in fields other than the main one people associate them with

Carlos thinking people are going to keep judging him and the theater people being as accepting as possible

EJ is a gleek

What I’ve Been Looking For to the rhythm of Get Your Head in the Game is hard! (Catch me on the piano later trying to figure it out lol)

It just turns into a terrible rap

EJ - “That was terrible,” Seb -  “I’m so happy”

EJ vs. Ricky - “without laughing… or killing each other,”

This is a good parallel to the basketball scene, once again they get kind of aggressive, but this time they also joke around and no one gets hurt

Also I would love to see them become friends, I mean they both need to grow a little before that happens, but I have hopes

They missed the ‘neeee howww’ part of it, I really wanted to hear them do the high voices

EJ’s little “mehh” that sounds like a duck kills me everytime

Gina and Nini awkwarddd

“I do have high hopes for a junior year at East High” oof babey :(

“It must be nice sometimes though, right?” - nini does not understand

This actually gives us an insight as to why they don’t understand each other. Nini would love nothing more than to start a new life with no drama and Gina would love nothing more than to have a life that lasts longer than a couple months before being restarted.

Gina/Nini apology very exciting, hopefully they can actually become friends

“It’s all good,” from Nini seemed disingenuous, I don’t know if it’s because of the Wonderstudy thing or the Ricky thing. 

The sleepover thing I was so worried that it would be a mean spirited thing but I’m so glad it wasn’t

Nini sits on Ricky’s lap when she goes back to the game room and I don’t know if it’s intentional or not but it’s kind of like she’s trying to lay her claim back on Ricky.

Gina looks so happy when a. Carlos calls her in and b. the happy dance about the sleepover! (why’d they have to ruin the happiness??)

Mr. Mazarra returning the favour

“It’s beautiful,” “Math often is,” dudde I feel you I fucking love math

“I cannot stress to you enough how uncomfortable that would make me feel,”

“You know what we should do?” “Break off eye contact sometime soon?”

I’m dying

“It’s about a robot!” this is… pretty adorable. She just wants to make a genuine connection with him

Also are they going to do a romance route with these two? Because I can see them setting it up but also imagine if they just become like… best friends? I feel like they’d be unstoppable.

Musical Choosical Handbook of Rulesicals

“I thought you had never actually played this with people-” “Honey not today of all days,”

Carlos and Seb are the only couple with no bad drama and I’m living for it (please let them just stay happy)

Oops! I knew that jersey question… also it’s definitely the answer Big Red would now because he’s only watched the movie with no words (at his allergists office)

“And do people usually talk like that?” “No they do not.” - gold

EJ the compulsive cheater and also compulsive truther makes a comeback (I seriously find this so funny I don’t know why)

“I love to pop and lock and jam and break,” oh GIna

She’s so happy about winning

Not realistic, you know that the second she called her mom at least someone would be like “pass the weed,” (you know because friends are awesome and also terrible)

“Can you take me off speaker”

Some people are like ‘oh no is she in trouble?’

I kind of hate that it looks like Nini looks sort of happy about Gina’s mom asking her to take her off speaker - I really don’t want Nini to turn into a catty person.

Ricky is concerned

Why did her mom tell her this right now? She should have waited until the next morning, like that wouldn’t have hurt anyone and it would have let them form stronger bonds. And Gina would have had her first sleepover and also they might form strong enough bonds to try and stay in contact with her

Ricky is worried for her, he’s like, ‘You made me feel better, so I’ll go make you feel better’

Nini’s looking upset that Ricky’s being emotionally aware for once? Like dude, he’s grown up a lot since BEFORE summer break? That’s like six months ago I think at this point?

Ricky just wants to help Gina feel better because she made him feel better

She doesn’t understand that they can stay friends even if she leaves and I just :(

“Please don’t do that” he’s so overwhelmed

“My mom moved out two weeks ago and she’s already got a new boyfriend, sound familiar?” Oooh low blow Ricky bud.

“Really don’t need advice from a .. buddy right now,”

Ok but then who does Ricky want advice from? I’m so confused. This boy needs to get a better support system and learn how to use it. Romantic relationships should not be your only outlet for your problems.

Red and Ashlyn

“I hope Gina’s gonna be okay,” - Big Red is so sweet!

They’re so cute

“Hey Big Red? Don’t forget your dip,” - oh she was so going to ask him out and then lost the nerve

Write something for yourself.

It’s a hard thing to do, dude. It’s also hard to let yourself feel so vulnerable, even if it’s only you that’s going to hear it

Gina packing, I feel so sad for her, she’s finally made some good friends and now she has to leave again. She kept the badge! :( 

EJ losing followers and being cancelled, at least we know why now

It seems like a lot of EJ’s self worth comes from how others think of him. So losing followers is probably a pretty big hit. I wonder if he’ll keep going with his whole truth thing when it has these consequences or if he’ll just go back to what he was doing before. I hope that he has a positive arc but, will it go downhill from here? I hope not.

Ricky about to apologise to Nini (why did he erase it, he probably should have sent that) - side note: their conversation before was them asking each other if they were going to the party

It’s interesting that Nini had pictures of EJ and Ricky up still

Gina’s crying face is making me cry

“Hey mom, it’s me, I miss you so much,” tears

Nini hanging up pictures of her grandma and the musical. She’s really trying to move forward from boys huh?

Is nini going to apply to the theater school??

Electrical fire???????? WHy??

[melyaliz]

Scribbles

Fandom: Marvel / X-men Movies 

Summary: Soulmate AU where whatever they write on their skin goes on their soulmates and person A keeps drawing dicks because they think it’s funny that they will show up on person B.  and person B having to constantly cover them up and like “who the FUCK is this asshole!”

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x OC 

Notes: First off yes, I know I have a few requests and this isn’t one of them but… I was inspired (Like 8 pages inspired) 

Gemma is my new oc that I am working on at the moment I’ll probably post her character sheet soon plus MAYBE finish her full story. 

Anyway, she grew up in a pretty christen household (thinking she may be a pastor's daughter) And I totally HC that Peter is TOTALLY the kind of guy who would draw on himself. 

So the image of like Gemma having to go to church with a HUGE dick on her arm and has to wear a sweater in summer and stuff was just too funny to pass up on. 

I honestly didn’t know how to end this so I just kind of did?

Promise requests will be coming soon :D 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

———--------------------------------------------------

Peter had already been suspended from writing on textbooks and his desk and with his notebook confiscated there was nothing left but his arm. 

 Freedom of expression man.

Plus the monster eating the freckle on his left arm was tiring out really good. 

“Mr. Maximoff, do you have anything of value to add to our discussion today?” 

“Huh?”

“That’s what I thought.” 

Peter frowned his brown eyes scanning the board for a moment taking in the information before glancing over at Karen’s notes. Pride and prejudice was as boring as it sounded. Wasn’t that kind of a chick book anyway?

“Yeah, I’m good” Peter added putting his hands behind his back as his teacher his arm and art clearly visible for the teacher to see just to prove his defiance to this book. 

However, the teacher didn’t react and just went back to the front of the class.

Confused Peter looked at his arm. 

It was blank. 

-*-

“Gemma what did you do to your arm!?!” 

Gemma glanced down at her arm, the sleeve of her rolled up Catholic school uniform visibly showed the dark drawings of monsters eating helpless woman. “Uhhh I…”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you go to that Iron Maiden concert,” her mother and school’s math teacher said grabbing her daughter pulling her toward the bathroom. “Your body is a temple” 

“Mom I promise? I have no idea how I got this!” 

Her mother paused for a moment looking down at her daughter’s arm, the permanent dark images now bleeding down her pale skin making them look even more grotesque. 

“I wonder…” 

“What Mom?” 

“So you didn’t draw on yourself?”

“I mean I have before but this isn’t me I’m not this good. Honest, I know it sounds crazy but it just showed up after science. Bobby was laughing about it and I was so confused.” Gemma adding a little More soap to her arm blowing away a few strands of her white-blonde hair out of her face, “besides I’m not stupid enough to draw demons on my arm at a Catholic school”

“It could be your soulmate” 

“Huh?” Gemma turned to her mom who was now rummaging in her bag for something. Once she found it she pulled out her pen handing it to her daughter.

“Write something”

“What happened to my body is a temple?” 

“Too late now” her mother laughed motioning to the melting monsters. “Go ahead”

“What should I draw?” Nerves bubbling up inside her. Weird how nervous you can suddenly get. 

“Anything you want.” 

Growing Gemma placed the pen to her skin pausing for a moment trying to think about what to draw. 

HELLO 

-*-

Bold block letters running down the length of his arm stopping at his wrist. Peter had already gotten a detention slip for mouthing off to his teacher and was now tapping his pencil on his desk as he sat there. Board out of his mind… until now. 

Curious he glanced down at his arm looking over the words now scrolled boldly over his arm. 

Interesting. 

“Maximoff are we going to have a problem?” 

“Nope” came the distracted respond as Peter slowly drew a question mark behind the Hello.

-*-

?

A simple question mark drew itself next to one of the monsters making him look more inquisitive than scary. Gemma bit her lip trying not to laugh during her English class. 

Poor little guy, he was more confused that she was. Probably wondering why she had tried to erase him from her arm. 

-*-

 Could you not use a permanent marker? These monsters will never come off. 

Neat full circles looped across the top of his arm before one of his monsters came back to him in bright pink sharpie. Obviously traced. 

Oh, it’s on. 

Pulling out his VERY permanent maker Peter started to draw. 

-*-

“Shit” Gemma hissed as the huge dick and balls appeared on her hand. The shaft stretching from her hand down to her wrist. 

“Miss Gemma? Is there something you would like to say to the class?” 

Quickly she hid her hand under her desk “nope.” 

“What are you hiding?” 

“Nothing sister”

“Then pull up your hands” as Gemma slowly planted her hands on the desk the nun gasped “GEMMA!” 

“It’s not me!”

“Who else would do that? And when because I don’t remember seeing any phallic images on you before” 

“I…” 

“Detention” 

Tossing her books and supplies into her backpack Gemma stood up walking off to detention, Sister Maryann stopped her handing her a bar of soap. Gemma looked down at it wondering where in the hell she had even been hiding that. Although Sister Maryann was known for washing kids mouths out with soap when they “took the Lord's name in vain” so maybe this was the mouth soap. 

-*-

Actual size Bold thick and large lettering hung over a small dick laying limp on the same hand he had drawn his own gorgeous penis drawing. 

Which of course, appeared right as he was flirting with Suzie, the cutest girl in school. 

“You have something on your hand…” the pretty brunette said nodding toward Peter’s hand which was holding her own as he “explained” the best way to use a joystick on the newest arcade game that had been put in across the street from their high school.   

“Are you kidding me!?!” Peter said pulling his hand quickly away, “Freak used permanent marker too”  

“What did it say?” Suzie giggled trying to get a look at his hand as her jock boyfriend walked up throwing an arm over her. 

“What up Petey?” 

“His hand just got this weird mark on it.” 

“Oh really?” 

“Yep, got to go, see you both later fellow classmates,” Peter said saluting before dashing off probably a little faster than he should have. 

“This asshole” he hissed as he quickly ran his hand under the water trying to rub it off face slightly flushed with embarrassment over having the girl of his dreams see it. And they had been getting along so well too!

Oh it was on now. 

-*-

“This asshole” Gemma laughed as she scrubbed her arm with the hard bar of soap. Leave it to Sister Maryann to have the magic cure for something that shouldn’t be cured. While her hand was now rubbed raw from scrubbing, the large dick was no longer scrolled across her hand and the monsters were all but faded away. 

Letting out a triumphant laugh she looked into the mirror a huge smile on her face. 

Which faded into shock as her reflection looked back at her. 

Her face with a huge twisted mustache drawn across her upper lip. 

“SON OF A BITCH!” 

Soulmate my ass. This person was the devil incarnate. 

-*-

Nothing. 

Peter checked everywhere, even stripping down to make sure there wasn’t anything written on… his precious bits. 

But no. Nothing came up.

Guess he had won. 

Something he through of proudly as he continued to doodle across his arms and legs. He never wrote on his face again and kept things mostly contained.

Although he would draw the occasional risque image in a fun place just to see if he would get a reaction. 

Not that he cared.

Not that it mattered.

It wasn’t like the thought of having someone out there that he could always talk to, was always there no matter what was something he wanted. 

Nope, not at all. 

Although when the cuts and bruises started to form he got a little worried. They got worse as time went on. Large hand size bruises and burns running all over his body. It was as if whoever that was on the other side was part of some fight club or something. 

During that time was the only time he truly addressed them.

Are you ok? 

-*-

Gemma rubbed her arm nervously as she walked through Xavier's school for gifted children. Led by the man himself it, Charles Xavier. 

She didn’t belong here, among the heroes. After being brainwashed to become nothing more than a weapon in some twisted man’s army Gemma felt like the silly catholic school girl who had a closeted love for Heavy Metal music was like a stranger to her. In her place was this strange woman now walking through a fog of uncertainty. 

The words Are you ok had almost faded from her arm but she had refused to wash it away. It had been a reminder that morning that something may have been wrong. That maybe those strange dreams she was having and those wounds she was waking up with were maybe not just nothing. 

That small warning that had been the tipping point. An almost literal wakeup call that had ended with her coming to this place filled with other mutants. People who had helped set her free from her prison. Break free from the mind control she had been under.

And faced with the reality of what she had unknowingly done under that man’s control she had no idea where to go from there. 

Where did she belong?  

-*-

It was faint but Peter saw it as she pointed toward the library asking Charles a question. Faded little gray letters, rushed and fast, scribbled across her underarm. 

He didn’t need to know what they said, he already knew. 

-*-

Turn  Around

Gemma blinked in confusion as the bold messy words flashed onto her hand. 

What? 

How?

Turning she saw him, the speedster, Peter, standing a few feet behind her, a permanent marker in his hand with a huge smile on his face.

“Hello.” 

Shock. 

It washed over her like cold water.

For years she had wondered who that total ass was who had continued to plague her body with drawings. Her once perfect record marred with endless visits to the principle and detention. Gemma had always been a fly under the radar kind of girl, just be middle of the road and go unseen. Yet all those colorful drawings and even more colorful words had made her stand out in ways she had never dreamed of. 

Who was that person? Why were they doing this? How come they didn’t seem to care? After all, it was clear there was someone else was getting marred by those drawings.

A million questions flew through her mind and even more memories. 

Yet nothing seemed to come out.

“Bet you never thought you would be this lucky,” Peter said running his fingers through his silver hair. “I mean you basically hit the jackpot of soulmates.” 

“You…” her hands flickered with energy, emotions building up inside her spilling out, “total ASS!” 

Peter went flying across the hallway as she shot him, not enough to hurt him just kind of give him a taste of what he had been doing to her for the past 8ish years. 

“Could you two maybe…. I guess not” Charles groaned as Gemma’s second blast missed a much wiser Peter, blowing up a beautiful 16th-century vase.

“It took me a WEEK to wash off that stupid dick you drew across my chest! And that during prom weekend” 

Peter was laughing as he grabbed Gemma taking her outside where they could hash this out somewhere safe. 

“So what kind of dress did you wear to prom?” Peter asked looking her over trying to picture it, a cute little red (or maybe blue to match her eyes) dress with a big of black dick drawn up her chest the tip peeking out of the collar.

“A cardigan thanks to you.”

“Awww what’s the fun in that?” 

“I went to a Catholic school.” 

Peter stood there for a moment the image of her in a little catholic uniform covered in his demon and phallic drawings was just…

Perfect.

“Jesus Christ you didn’t!?!” he doubled over laughing as she watched him trying to fight back a smile. Honestly, after everything she had been through the memories of her trying to scrub off little devils and titties off her arms and legs felt almost… 

Comforting. 

As annoying as they were, those drawings had kind of been comforting. They set her apart, let her know (as weird as he was) there was someone out there that was all her’s. Yes the dicks and the tits were annoying but there were also some pretty cool song lyrics that had helped her to discover music she hadn’t heard before. 

He was like her annoying little secret that broke out away from the everydayness of her very normal life.  

Plus she had to admit, it was a pretty funny image looking back. 

Not that she would EVER admit any of this to him. At least not right now. 

“You owe me big.” 

“Oh, Gemma I promise, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“Why do I get the feeling your idea of making it up to me is going to be different than what mean?” 

“Maybe being soulmates always means you can read my mind?” he said leaning forward wagging his eyebrows. Gemma couldn’t help but laugh up at him as he took a step back holding out his hand.

“Friends?” 

“Friends.” 

As she took his hand Gemma had a feeling that much like the first time those little monsters appeared on her arms, her life was going to be filled with many more surprises. 

-GET TAGGED!- 

Tagging: @royslittleharper​​​  @the-shadow-of-atlantis​​​ @coffee-randomness​​​ @daisyboobear​​​ @nilthanious​​  @jason-redhood​​ @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr​ @ocelysium​ @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep

[arlandvery]

Hen, Chick (and Hawk)

A concept sent to @yandere-love-love-love got me started on this fic, and the first thing I’ve written on my new laptop! Still getting used to the keyboard and it sucks! :D Anyhooo, this is written from the pov of the kid, purely because I thought it would be a bit more interesting.

You didn’t like the new apartment.

It was small; your apartment was nicer. It was big. Daddy called it an eyrie. Your room at home was big and soft- it had to be, to accommodate your wings (you were big enough now that you could keep your flapping under control, but it was annoying at home, where the worst meant Mommy and Daddy finding out you lied about brushing your teeth,but here that meant knocking into something, and after a couple of weeks your wings were sore). You didn’t have any toys here either, and that was no fun.

Mama liked it here though, you could tell.

You didn’t get it.

At home, Mama didn’t need to work. She didn’t have to leave. She could play with you all day if she wanted, or lay in bed all day. But now Mama went to work every day and left you with an elderly neighbor named Mrs. Saito. Mrs. Saito was nice, you guessed, but she was old, and didn’t really want to play, or do anything very interesting.

You missed Daddy.

You wanted him here, now. But Mama wouldn’t let call him, or tell you what was going on.

It all got fuzzy when Daddy had to leave town- he said he’d be gone for two weeks, but he’d bring back lots of presents to make up for it. Mama had hugged him tight when he left, and cuddled you when you started siffling. That day, Mama was jittery. She kept disappearing into hers an Daddy’s room. When Daddy called that night, to tell them good night, Mama had picked up and told im about her day, then let you talk to him. 

But the moment that you were off the phone, she’d said you were leaving.

And you didn’t have any choice but to go with her.

You slept in the car the first night. Then you walked everywhere. There was a tiny motel room where the water was brown and the sheets had cigarette burns. It took two weeks for Mama to find a job and another month to get the apartment.

“When can we see Daddy?” You whined that night as Mama tucked you into bed. 

Mama frowned and looked down at you, carefully tucked away for sleep, your wings folded gingerly.

“We aren’t.” She admitted, and you didn’t understand. Why wouldn’t you go home? Wasn’t this just a vacation?

“B-but I want Daddy!” You whined, your eyes getting hot with unshed tears. Mama sniffled and climbed into bd beside her, pulling you close.

“I know baby, but it’s better this way.”

But you didn’t understand.

So Mama told you a story.

It wasn’t a nice story.

But you never asked when you were going back to Daddy again.

You think about your Dad more than you want to admit.

It’s hard not to think of him, when wings sprout from your back, soft white and itching to fly. But you don’t, because that quirk would be too noticeable.

(Mom paid someone in the Quirk Registration offices to lie- you’ve got a weak quirk on paper, something about sensing changing wind currents. You don’t fly. Your wings are always folded neatly beneath your clothes, feathers plucked as soon as they grow in.

Mom cries every time you do it.

But she doesn’t stop you.)

You look like him too. You hate that.

But Mom doesn’t flinch when you move too quickly (a memory that you recovered when you were ten), or spend a scary amount of time with hat blank-faced stare when you do something that reminds her of him anymore (something that she did but used to hide). So things are okay.

You think about the story.

(The first time she told it, it was the bare bones.

There was a man who fell in love with a very unlucky woman.

He followed her and learned everythig about her; her name, where she lived, what she did, what she wanted.

And he approached her and wooed her and she loved him so much. Everything moved so fast her head spun, but that was alright, she thought, because she loved him.

She married him.

And then things got bad.)

Things are nice now. Normal. You’ve moved out of the dingy apartment and the gross hotel room. Now you live in a nice neighborhood. Mom has friends that she goes out with on Thursday nights. You usually hang out on Sundays- they remind you of when you were little and it was just you and Mom, because Dad-

(Her new husband always wanted to know where she was. He always kept her busy, and soon her other friends faded away. He was angry whenever she suggested going back to work because he could provide- why would she need to work? 

She let him isolate and manipulate her until one day she went out without telling him.

For no reason she decided one day that she wanted to go out. If he loved her, she said to herself, he’d understand her need to breathe, to be away from him, just for awhile.

She didn’t do much that day, just walked around. Did some window shopping.

But she never entertained the thought of calling her friends. Or leaving him.

When she came back that evening, he was waiting at the door for her. He dragged her inside and that was the first time he hit her.)

Mom’s gonna be late tonight, so you’re probably just gonna get pizza and do your homework. You’re thinking about calling your friend Chi and bitching over the latest garbage episode of your guys’ least favorite show that you both watch unironically.

You like Chi because his favorite hero wasn’t Hawks. Well, there was more to it than that, but it made your friendship easier, purely because you didn’t have to look at your Dad’s smug PR smile on his merch everywhere when you went to his house. Chi preferred All-Might, something you both had in common.

 But the thing is, you feel uneasy.

It’s nothing new, you always feel like that. Anxiety, Mom calls it, looking guilty. So you don’t tell her about it. It’s not her fault that you’re always scared that Dad’s coming, that he’ll find you both. You keep your long nights secret- nights where your breath is shallow and rattles in your throat and you can’t breathe because you’re so sure that he’s outside the window waiting waiting waiting

But you get home without incident. You unlock the door, lock it behind you, change into some sweatpants and text Mom you made it home safely. Then you study- math’s kicking your ass. You learn better by doing, and sitting still has and always will be a nightmare.

Mom says you get that from him.

But she didn’t sound sad when she said it. You’d been in the teacher’s office, again, because you didn’t get it, you got frustrated, so you lashed out. Mom had to leave work. You felt awful. But she didn’t yell at you or anything. She let the teacher talk, agreed you were in the wrong and then you talked about it at home. When you finally told her how hard it was she’d nodded and petted your hair.

“We’ll work on it together.”

And you did.

You learned how to listen, how to pay attention. Little tricks.

You’re not stupid, you just needed extra attention.

(And not because you don’t have a dad, like the PTA mom’s hush-whisper about)

Around 6 you order pizza, checking your phone. Chi hasn’t called you back. Mom’s messaged you to remind you not to stay up too late and that she loves you.

Love you too, ma, you text back.

(After that, her husband didn’t let her leave the house. He kept her locked in the bedroom. Sometimes he drugged her to keep her quiet. He’d come home and fix dinner and bring her out and feed her as if she were some pet.

But now the woman knew what kind of man she’d married. She began to fight him, using the pain to spur her onward.

One night she nearly got away.

But by nearly, she almost made it to the door. 

Her husband dragged her back to the bedroom and he hurt her.

-Mom shows you the scars on her back when you’re 10, because you didn’t know how bad it was and you wanted to know.

You traced the scarring carefully, with gentle fingers. You could imagine the feather in Dad’s hand. Brighter red than the blood welling up. He’d taken care that it was scar, would pull if she moved a certain way.

Hawks, the letters said, because she’d never escape being his-

And after that she couldn’t fight him, because then she was going to have a baby.)

You take a break after you order. Your eyes are starting to ache and your hand is cramping. You could call it a night reasonably. Instead you shower and unbind your wings, sighing as you flex them. You’d be lying if you sad that you didn’t worry about what the constant plucking and binding was doing to your wings. 

There’s a knock on the door and you scramble to grab your wallet.

“Coming!” You shout, running because, well, pizza.

But when you open the door and standing there, holding the pizza box is your Dad, smiling like nothing is wrong. Like you saw each other this morning, not 6 years ago. Like he isn’t a monster.

“Dad,” you say quietly, gripping the door. His smile is every bit as predatory as his name.

“Hey eyas! Gonna let your old man in?” You notice that his foot is wedged against the door. You couldn’t close it if you wanted. Or, rather, if you had the presence of mind. 

But all you can think about are the scars on your Mom and how much he scares her still. What will he do to you?

Dad’s still waiting, and laughs a little, “c’mon kiddo, pizza’s getting cold. We can catch up til your Mom gets home!” There, there’s that darkness that you know is there, never noticed as a kid.

Wordlessly, you step aside and let him in, trying not to tremble.

You know what he is, and you hate him. But that’s still your Dad. And he wants to know all about you.

“You don’t deserve to know me!” You snap, interrupting his steady stream of questions as he goes through your phone. You shove your pizza away and stand up to leave- to run.

But your Dad’s wing flares out, blocking the door and cornering you. Dad just looks up at you without moving his head.

“Kiddo, sit down. We’re gonna have a talk now, okay?”

You know what he can do with those wings. Mom tortures herself and watches his televised fights. There’s a reason that he’s #2. So you sit your ass down. He nudges the pizza towards you again.

“Tell me, why don’t I deserve to know you? Is it because I didn’t find you immediately when your Mom had a moment of insanity and stole you?” You open your mouth, but he keeps talking, eyes flashing. “Do you have any,” he takes a deep breath and tries to lower his voice, “any idea what it was like when I came home and you both were gone? Bags packed, no note, your mom’s ring just there on the counter-!”

“You can’t even tell the truth now, can you!” You demand, because damn the neghbors, hopefully they’ll cal the cops. “You called her nightly to make sure she was where you put her! How long until you rushed home because you knew she’d found a way out, a way to get us out and stay safe-”

“Safe?!” He snarled, “I finally track you down and you’re terrified of me, your wings are- are plucked, living illegally-”

“Mom has a legal job-!”

“Lying to the Quirk Registry Office is a crime, along with kidnappig.”

“You kidnapped her! You isolated her and hurt her and raped-”

His backhand is sharp and snaps your head to the side.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Hawks voice is dangerously low, and goosebumps break out on your skin. Your cheek hurts- it’s gonna bruise. But you don’t move. “I love your mother, I did everything for her, to keep her safe, and happy. Sometimes people don’t know what they want,” remarkably, he smiles again, and you want to hurl. “She needed me, and she needed a baby- and now she needs to be reminded exactly why you don’t kidnap your child and hide them for 6 years.”

“Dad-”

“Love is a beautiful thing, kiddo,” he cups your hand and curls his wing around you, and you stifle a sob.

You...you have good memories of your Dad.

Memories that you don’t like thinking about, because he’s a monster, good memories of him aren’t fair.

But dad taught you how to groom your wings and held you when you were scared. He took you to the doctor when you got sick and surprised you in the morning with omelettes and cheese because he wanted to show his family that he loved them. When sat on his lap he’d wrap his wings around you and you felt warm and safe and you’re crying now, you can’t help it as he hugs you close and strokes your hair.

“Love is so beautiful, and I can’t let anything ruin that,” he coos, kissing your head. 

[studysnooze]

Hi! My name is Nonso and for the majority of my academic life, I have been living off of the (very strong) belief that I suck at math. Well - this had started becoming an even harsher reality for me when I started high school. I started off in Algebra 1 my freshman year and had a great teacher! We’ll call him Mr. B. Now, Mr. B was not popular among my classmates. He’s older, has dryer and G-rated jokes, and loves to talk about books. I saw a lot of myself in him and therefore was really comfortable when it came to asking clarifying questions, doing homework the day it was assigned, and studying extra to make sure I was fully prepared for the tests/quizzes. For me, I did great in the class. I think I ended with a B or something like it wasn’t any concern for me. At this point I didn’t realize that my relationship with Mr. B was a huge factor effecting my grades. 

Then I went into Algebra 2... Mr. B doesn’t teach Algebra 2 so I got a new teacher - we’re calling him Mr. M. Okay so Mr. M was MEGA popular amongst the students. He was a lot younger than Mr. B, told jokes that were definitely more suited for mature (aka angsty teen) audiences, he was louder (really, a lot louder) and more confident, never talked about books or pretty much anything besides math. All in all, your grade A extrovert for everyone to fond over and all in all, not my type of teacher. But alas, I didn’t have a choice except to stay in Mr. M’s class so I did. I told myself that as long as I focussed and worked hard like I did in Mr. B’s class the previous years, I can end the class with a B. Well, as time went on, his teaching lessons turned into super fast paced, mostly screaming and incredibly “all over the place” thought process and I quickly sunk into a deep hole of intimidation. And of course, this was all from my experience and opinion. I completely shut down: never asked questions, always did homework the night before, and never studied extra for quizzes and tests. I thought I could teach myself, because I thought I had done it in Mr. B’s class without any struggle. Oh boy was I wrong. I barely made it through the year with a C. That was my first C on a report card ever in my entire life and I was devastated. 

FAST FORWARD to this year. I’m taking Precalculus (I’m going to say Precalc from now on lol) I didn’t have a choice in my schedule this year but to take Mr. M’s class again and I knew it was going to s u c k. I had established that Mr. M’s personality made it physically uncomfortable for me to do the learning and now I had to go back and experience that again in addition to the math level being higher. This year, Mr. B was offering a class called “Precalc Principles” which was basically a rendition of Precalc but a slower pace and good vibes. Me going to a school where everyone is a genius and entitled - I heard that this class was the class for the “slower and dumber kids” who couldn’t keep up with the pace of Mr. M’s really cool, faster paced Precalc Regulars class. I thought my parents would be disappointed in me if I took this class (spoiler: they weren’t) so I stuck with Mr. M. I got a D as my final grade of the semester. That’s it folks- after all the A’s I got in my first semester senior year, I had a shining D to tack onto the back for colleges to see. My GPA went from a 4.1 to a 3.7 because of it and it could have been worse but that’s a really big dip so I was ashamed. It was after this fiasco that I made a conscious decision: in order for my application to not get rescinded by colleges, I needed to go to Precalc Principles. I was happy about seeing Mr. B again but I was afraid people would silently judge me as “slow” so I slowly went to Precalc Principles starting my second semester. And it was the best decision I ever made.

I have never had so much fun taking a math class in my entire life. Not only did I learn new things that Mr. M had skipped over in “Super cool regular Precalc” but I got to learn more in depth about the topics that I already knew about without cramming every 2-3 days for a quiz/test. Getting to be Mr. B’s student again - I was able to ask any question I needed, I always did the homework the day it was assigned and always studied extra for quizzes and tests. In fact, I got so confident that I would challenge his answers (and get them right), ask multiple times if I didn’t understand something, and always stayed attentive when lessons were going on. I have a 99% in his class right now and I honestly think it makes sense now. Precalc Princples isn’t actually easier, I was just better at learning in that class. And this is because I loved learning from Mr. B - I vibed with him better. This is the first year where I’m truly confident in my ability to learn things I don’t understand, aka math.

So in conclusion, it’s important to choose a teacher you like or are comfortable with because it actually effects your grade, your work ethic, and overall your mental state. Like my anxiety had a freaking field day in Mr. M’s class - which is a lot of the reason why I have been pretty inactive lately on my blog and I’m sorry :’)! But I’m way better now so expect more posts every week ❤️Also I finally found my style for these blog post thingies so I’m satisfied. The other ones were too exciting and really just “not me” you know? 

It’s Tuesday, my favorite day of the week so I hope you all have a marvelous rest of your day✨

Love,

Nonso 

[espanadiarywriter]

“Math is hard.” - Barbie

I try to make my blog about myself, and not family members or friends, but sometimes I have to drift a little. Right now my big headache is my son’s math class. They moved him up into the more advanced class because he tested so well on all the 6th grade math. The problem is they never told us exactly when he was going to switch (they moved him almost the next day) and they told me the math teacher would transition the new kids into the class (that didn’t happen). So, I thought we had all weekend to prepare, and they would help my son adjust to the abrupt change. Neither happened.  For most kids, they can just adapt, but my son hates transitions under the best of circumstances. So we started off on the wrong foot and the math teacher hasn’t made things any better.

According to my son, the math teacher is “completely incomprehensible.” (Given that the class is a group of kids who are advanced in math, I can see many reasons this could be possible.)  There’s not a lot of alternative support if you don’t get the information by listening during the class; some of the other teachers have class notes you can look at later, for example. My son could work with the other kids after class, but that was only making him more frustrated. So I’m having to do a lot of fill in math teaching—and this has gotten me thinking a lot about math.

I haven’t like math for as long as I can remember. I’m a writer—a technical writer, but still a writer at heart. But as I am doing all these math problems, I realize that I really do understand it all pretty easily. Granted I’m not running calculations in my head—that’s what calculators are for. Still I find the math not terribly hard (it is only 6th grade math). You get the right equation (from a Google search if I don’t remember it, because again, no books or useful reference materials from the math teacher), then plug in the numbers, and poof, answer. What’s the interesting thing about that? Don’t get me wrong—I understand the value of math for science when it’s applied. But fun? Nope. Not fun. I prefer to let other people run the multivariate analyses at my day job, then I can apply and explain the results.

But as I was discussing math and the problems with this teacher, I started remembering my long history with math. When I was in elementary school, I was in a gifted and talented class. I loved my class—all the other kids were like me. We really went in depth with topics. And there was no stigma about being smart. But in 5th grade, I had a teacher (male) named Mr. Reed. While math was never my strongest subject, in 5th grade I began really struggling with math. It was the first time something at school was hard—in my whole time at school. Ever. Towards the end of the year, Mr. Reed told my parents and me that I was not cut out for the talented and gifted class because I couldn’t keep up with the math. So the next year I was kicked out of the gifted class. I went to regular school, and loathed it.

Now as I work with my own kid I have thought back to that year and that teacher a lot. First of all, it was the first male teacher I had in the talented and gifted program and the first time I had struggled in math. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not. How much of that teacher’s perception was skewed by the fact that I was female? How much was shaped by the possibility that I learned math differently than the one cookie-cutter way he taught math that relied on rote memorization and calculations? I’m not good at multiplying in my head—is that really the most important component of the ability to do math? I often tell the joke that I aced abstract math at Carnegie Mellon, much to the confusion of my (mostly male) classmates. As soon as they took the numbers away, I found math easy. Everyone else in my class of science geeks was floored, struggling. I breezed through that class. I couldn’t understand what everyone else found complicated. So I’m not bad at all math—just the stuff with numbers in it.

Women are under-represented in sciences, especially fields like physics and math. I don’t have the historical rates of disparities by gender or race. Nowadays the differences begin to emerge in higher education. Women’s participation in science and engineering differs substantially by field of study. “In 2015, women received over half of bachelor’s degrees awarded in the biological sciences, they received far fewer in the computer sciences (18%), engineering (20%), physical sciences (39%) and mathematics (43%).” (https://ngcproject.org/statistics) This discrepancy continues into the STEM professions. “Women make up half of the total U.S. college-educated workforce, but only 28% of the science and engineering workforce. Female scientists and engineers are concentrated in different occupations than are men, with relatively high shares of women in the social sciences (60%) and biological, agricultural, and environmental life sciences (48%) and relatively low shares in engineering (15%) and computer and mathematical sciences (26%).”

How much of this is perception of women’s abilities? How much of this is the old-boys-network kicking in or simply uncomfortable work environments for women? How much of the structures surrounding advancement in these fields (both in class work at high schools and universities, and in research) are designed around the way men interact with each other? (To succeed in a male dominated field, you have to be comfortable interacting with classmates, teachers and co-workers in a certain way. I know. I was in computer science and in a male-heavy college. I thrived on that challenge.)

The insidious thing about bias is that it is so often unconscious. You have to work to shine a light on it or things don’t change. You have to have classes that are representative in terms of gender and racial minorities. Exclusions start young and they start with implicit expectations. I was the only girl in my AP computer class in high school. I was the only girl who competed in the “whizzer” competition in AP physics where you had to build a machine to zip across the room on a wire. I was the minority or the only woman in many computer, math, and science classes at Carnegie Mellon, while my English and writing classes were packed with women.

I’ll never know what happened in 5th grade. I’m certain the teacher thought he was doing what was best for me to succeed. It never even occurred to me to think about it until I started reading all these articles about how women and minorities are not even given the first chance at the same rates as white males. I just accepted that I wasn’t good at math. Except now that I think about it, very few people could have even taken the math classes I took at Carnegie Mellon and I didn’t get below a B in any of them. So maybe I’m not “bad” at math. Maybe I’ve just always disliked it because it represents a glass ceiling I wasn’t able to break in a life where I have shattered a lot of glass.

[willelbyers]

Just One Of Those Things

Summary: It’s always just been one of those things they don’t talk about.

Pairings: Will/Mike, past Mike/El, background Lucas/Max

Notes: It’s a future-fic, about 2,500 words. The Party basically figures out how to talk about what they already know.

Alternatively: Will and Mike hide and deflect, El doesn’t know how to differentiate herself and Jane, Max doesn’t want to pretend, that’s all Lucas wants to do, and Dustin is convinced he has Not-Superpowers.

This is posted on Ao3 here as well as written out below the cut. Enjoy!

There’s an unspoken rule in the Party, a specific dynamic they never address: we don’t talk about… that.

They don’t talk about the particular closeness between the two of them. They don’t mention how Will strives to live up to whatever expectations he thinks Mike has for him, how Mike does everything from writing more campaigns to reenacting Star Wars for the simple reason of needing to impress him. They don’t talk about how, in the year after the monster, Will always reaches for Mike first and Mike is always there to take his hand.

And even later, after everything, they don’t talk about the way Will has never said anything about or even looked at girls. Or the handful of phone calls to Will’s house Mike has answered or vice-versa. They don’t talk about Mike and El’s amicable (albeit awkward) breakup in tenth grade, or the unsettling three weeks about a month later when Will all but stays holed up in the library with Jennifer Hayes and Christopher Thomas as he flinches away from any of his friends (but especially Mike).

They don’t talk about the way Mike’s gaze lingers on him, always. They don’t talk about the movies the rest of the Party remain uninvited to, their classmates’ parties where the two of them will disappear for an hour or so and reappear later on only to look suspiciously ruffled, the way Mike hates sharing his clothes but Will always has a too-big sweater on anyway. They don’t talk about any of it.

Sometimes, it’s easy to pretend—forget, even—that it doesn’t happen at all.

Max throws a wrench in the plans. The Rule has been in place since, what, sixth grade? Seventh? Probably even earlier. Lucas can’t remember. But he knows that it was before she had gotten there. It’s not really her fault she doesn’t know.

Then again, it really should be obvious enough at this point—it’s been four years.

The only reason Lucas is thinking this, anyway, is because he’s stopped dead in the middle of the street, frozen, staring at his girlfriend.

“Well?” she prompts, and Lucas has to close his eyes for a moment to think about what has lead up to this moment.

They—the Party—had all gone to Jared Thompson’s house for some big Senior year blowout. Dustin, Max, and El had all staunchly voted yes to going. Lucas and Will said no, and then the eyes had turned to Mike. He had sighed, obviously thinking hard, before giving Will (specifically) a meaningful glance and muttering, “Fine.”

The three had cheered as Lucas complained and Will rolled his eyes, letting Mike sling an arm over his shoulders. No one noticed.

Then the party happened, and Max—avoiding alcohol like the plague even as Lucas stole Dustin’s drink and took a few sips (he wasn’t there by choice, he was going to enjoy himself, dammit!)—had eventually gotten tired, asking Lucas to walk her home. Seeing an out, he had agreed.

And then she’d asked: “So, what do you think the deal is between Mike and Will?”

And he had stopped, and now he’s here.

“What?” he manages to choke out.

Max rolls her eyes. “Lucas, come on. Seriously, is this some sort of weird game we all play? Michael and William. Wheeler and Byers. Paladin and Cleric. Nerd and nerd. Are we just going to pretend that we don’t see it happening in front of our eyes?”

He shakes his head, suddenly feeling dizzy. He’s never talked about it before, to anyone. He’d almost forgotten—but he remembers now, and it’s a little… much. “Max, this isn’t…”

She picks up the sentence where he’s trailed off. “What I think it is?” she asks. “Because I’m pretty sure it is. I didn’t see them for the last twenty minutes we were there, and apparently Jared’s back door was open. Three guesses as to who left, probably to go make out?”

“No,” he replies quickly, voice not cooperating. He coughs. “Also, gross. But… but, no, I. I was going to say that this isn’t California. It’s… it’s just… Hawkins.” The unspoken people won’t like it here doesn’t remain unheard.

She shoves her hands into her pockets. “Yeah. I know.” She swallows, hard, and Lucas can see the movement of her shoulders as they tense. Like there’s something else she wants to say. Instead of saying it, she shakes her head. “Lucas, I’ve been playing along with this whole thing since eighth grade. And, you know, that first real party we ever went to? Darby Templeton’s, in eleventh grade, last year? Like, a year after Mike and El broke up.”

“Yeah.”

“I played along then, too,” she admits. “I saw them, just for a second, sneaking off. Like always, now. But Will kissed Mike then, and just like I’m sure it had happened before, I’m sure that it’s still happening now.” She shakes her head. “I can’t just pretend it isn’t happening anymore. Because it is, and I…” She takes a breath, wind whipping her hair into her face. “Did you know?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I think so?” He sighs, offering a hand for her to take. She does, and they begin to walk, taking slow steps down the street. “I guess… we just never talked about it. We just… never did. And they’ve always been close.” He hesitates. “I think I knew. But I convinced myself I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas realized helplessly. “It’s just… one of those things, I think.” He glances at her, guilty eyes darting away quickly. “Is that bad?”

She offers a small, sad smile. “I don’t think so, no.”

El earns her reputation—or, rather, Jane Hopper does. Wearing the mask that is Jane, El becomes an enigma at Hawkins High—quiet to the point she’s nearly silent, a math whiz, intense stare, curly hair sheared short with an odd array of clothes. It helps that she’s the daughter of the hot-tempered Chief of Police and the foster sister of The Boy Who Came Back To Life. She’s mysterious, and apparently boys “dig that” while girls “want to be that” (says Dustin, anyway). She couldn’t care less about boys, and she doesn’t think a girl could become any more beautiful by mimicking her, but she’s read enough books to know that yes, people do like mysteries.

Not to mention, karma really does seem to kick back around her. At least, that’s what the student body believes. For instance, on her first day of school, Troy had flicked a slur-filled note at the back of Will Byers’ head. Seconds after it had been unfolded, read, and crumpled again, the boy pulling in on himself, Troy had tripped over nothing. He lost three teeth; Dustin had fired a small comment, looking vindicated; Jane had appeared very pleased.

In all honesty: Jane was pleased—still is, three years later. Scarily so; enough that her vision turns a satisfying red for just a moment. El feels a little remorseful, using her powers to hurt some kid, but then she remembers everything Troy has done and her resolve is set. She might not like the things she does as Jane a lot of the time, but she finds nothing wrong about this.

The other thing she is known for is for, well, knowing. People are always open books to her, with the exception of a few.

“Don’t even think about stealing that,” Jane says softly to the kid she spies hovering around Mr. B’s room. He whips around, eyes wide, and sprints away from the expensive-looking, half-repaired watch on the teacher’s desk.

“Sorry, Jane,” he mutters in return before he’s gone, and Jane just nods and smiles tightly, dark eyes following him. Jane files the interaction in her memory, but she already has his face and name blocked out—she can claim deniability if necessary.

She relaxes her stance as soon as he’s gone, El taking over from Jane, shouldering her bag and making her way down the hall. She’s searching for Will, so they can go home together—though her dad and Joyce aren’t “dating”, they live in the same house, so Will and Jonathan are basically her brothers now. It makes it hard, hearing all of Jonathan’s thoughts when he comes back from college, hearing Joyce’s and Dad’s all the time, and then only getting painful feedback from Will.

If only Will’s mind was like that boy’s, she thinks idly. Pliant, but not weak. Though not foolish like him. Because there are things she doesn’t understand about Will, about Mike, about society, about the world. Things she might be able to decode if only she could see him like she sees everyone else. Questions she could have answered.

Question one would probably be: Why are you still sad? Because Will is still so oppressively miserable that it follows him like a storm cloud, so prominent she couldn’t miss it if she tried. But things are better now, so why?

Question two would certainly be: It’s not your fault. You know that, right? And she would ask because Will tries to carry the weight of the world on his small shoulders, because Will blames himself for everything bad that has ever happened to him or someone he cares about. She doesn’t need powers to see that. Will just thinks that bad things happen to him for a reason, that he has brought these evils upon himself, and El wants to make him see that it just doesn’t work like that.

Question three would simply be: You love him, so why do you hide? It had hurt for a while when Mike had, what’s the term… “broken up” with her. Will helped her understand that all Mike meant was that they weren’t right for each other “romantically” (which is apparently different from “platonically”, which is apparently the one El herself likes). And El can’t read Will but she can read Mike as well as anyone else—perhaps better—and she knows everything: she knows that Mike loves Nancy though he says he doesn’t, he admires Steve though he says he doesn’t, he thinks Jonathan is a little too “cloud-in-front-of-the-sun-on-a-previously-nice-day”, whatever that means, though he says he doesn’t. She knows that even though she is Mike’s favorite person, Will is Mike’s Favorite Person, though Mike says he doesn’t have favorites. Basically, Mike says a lot of things that aren’t true. But El now knows the difference between lies, white lies, and not knowing the truth, so she’ll let it slide.

And she will never know the way she knows about other people, but Will’s heart is worn on his arm—no, sleeve, that’s right. His emotions are clear. El knows what it means, when Will’s face lights up as Mike wraps him into a hug.

And, moreover, the brightest, loudest thought from Mike is a mixture of love and fear. It’s something El has always known about but hadn’t been able to interpret when she first saw it. But she gets it now: Mike loves Will, in a way that’s romantic and not solely platonic like it is with the rest of the Party, and it scares him.

She doesn’t know why.

The problem is that no one addresses this, no one seems to relate to her thoughts, so she is left to wonder if this is just another one of those countless things she’ll never understand.

Dustin likes to think that he has a special sort of intuition—not a power, like El has and whatever Will has developed, but a… skill. The kind that has gotten him in trouble before, sure, but is a big achievement nonetheless. For instance: Dart. Yeah, Dart had turned out to be a dangerous inter-dimensional baby Demogorgon, but befriending it had helped the Party escape the tunnels when El closed the gate.

So. Intuition not terrible.

But his intuition screams DANGER DANGER DANGER around El, around Will. He doesn’t think they’ll hurt him, any of them—because of course they wouldn’t—but he swears he can feel an undercurrent of energy when they step into a room. It’s in the way things shake but don’t fall when El is angry, the way shadows seem to bend to Will when he’s afraid.

And he gets something from Mike, too. Less in a physical sense—there are no tremors, no flashes of light or darkness or color when something goes wrong. But there’s something in Mike’s gaze that warns people to not get too close. If Dustin’s not-superpower is his intuition, Mike’s is his disconcerting glares.

Dustin notices it a lot at school, when bullies—fewer than there had been in the past, fortunately—whisper behind Will’s back. Or when people snicker when he stutters through answering a question on a bad day. Even at home, when the rest of the Party send questioning looks at them when Will falls asleep on Mike’s shoulder during a movie night and all Mike does is run a hand through his hair.

The look tells them, no. Forceful enough that people just tend to look away before his glare intensifies. And Dustin wonders what it is about Will that has Mike doing that. What it is that could make Mike do anything for him. Wonders how long they’ve loved each other.

But Mike says no, and it becomes one of those things Dustin tries not to think about.

It’s one of those things Will talks about a lot. In whispers, usually, sometimes over a radio he has control over or muttered into the ceiling as they sprawl out in his bedroom or sometimes even spoken about between kisses. And Mike listens to him, replies to him, understands.

It’s why Will loves him.

They don’t talk about the others. It seems too wrong. But they talk about everything else—their feelings, their future (singular), their fears. How much they love each other.

They don’t talk about the fact that they haven’t let a single person know about them yet, despite the fact that it’s been two years. The fact that their friends might whisper things but never say anything substantial out loud. They don’t talk about the fact that Mike sometimes thinks about how he really did have feelings for El, even though it’s long gone. They don’t talk about the three weeks Will had spent hiding away with Jen and Christopher after he confessed, terrified and confused; the three weeks that they had spent apart before they snapped back together like a rubber band. Those are just… some of those things they don’t talk about.

“I love you,” Mike mutters sleepily as he clambers into the bed beside Will. It’s the same bed he’s had since he was a kid and it’s much too small for two people, but they make it work. It’s Saturday night and the door is locked, El is at the arcade with Max and Lucas, Dustin is away, Jonathan is at college, his mom and Hopper are sleeping, and Mike will make his escape in the morning through the window.

Will wraps his arms around Mike’s torso and pulls him closer, away from the edge. He presses a kiss to his mouth. “Mm. Love you, too.”

And it’s one of those things they can talk about.

I hope you enjoyed, everyone! Reviews are, as always, appreciated. Find me on Ao3 here.

[frenchfriesandvinegar]

School

This is my second Tumblr post! Yesterday I posted one thing; my goal was two, but that’s fine. Today’s topic seems pretty unoriginal, and, to be honest it is. Yesterday I really wanted to make a text post, and I probably should’ve. I just don’t want to push myself to do a blog every single day then get burnt out. That’s what happened when I tried to do a journal over the summer. I lasted a good month or so, but my entries were getting shorter (the first and second day I had a lot to cover, because I needed to explain everything), but then they gradually got shorter and shorter, until they were like 2 sentences long. I got discouraged, and I wanted to start again at the beginning of the year, but I never got to it.

So anyways. School. That’s today’s topic, after all. I lived in South America until I was about 5, but I can’t say exactly how I did in school off the top of my head. I don’t remember much, but from what I do remember, I was always marked late. Essentially, school started at 7:45 or something, but the students had to arrive there by 7:30 to be marked “early” (they stamped a little booklet- red if you were late and blue if you were early. I never arrived by 7:30 unless my dad took me, once in a blue moon. It ended up being a little bit of an embarrassment. I didn’t want my dad to see that I always arrived “late.” 

One thing I was proud about, however, was my ability to speak English, when most of my classmates were just starting learning it. I probably couldn’t hold a conversation completely in English, but I could understand my dad (who is Canadian) and I had a pretty extensive vocabulary. Anyway, I moved here when I was 5 or 6, and I started school in January (I was put in kindergarten, even though I had already finished it). This was because the year in the school I went to in South America ended at Christmastime and began in March. So they thought I wouldn’t be advanced enough to be put in first grade, where I belonged. My parents talked to the school about moving me up, but the school kept insisting that I should just be placed in the gifted program. The principal intervened and I was eventually allowed to move up to first grade. I usually arrived “late.” The bell rang at 8:40 and we left at around 8:37. We would get there just as the bell was ringing and I had to sprint to try to catch a door so I could get in without being marked as late. The first day of first grade, however, I did arrive early, about 5 minutes before the class started. We stood out on the concrete near where the backpacks were, and waited until someone from the office came to greet us. She walked us over to the front office and seated us on a couch. And we waited. About 5 more minutes until the bell rang, when my teacher, Mrs. Teich, arrived. She was old, and in my mind, that meant she was mean. I gulped as my mom stood up to shake her hand. I was going to be put in the care of HER? She ended up being nice, and she asked me a few basic questions as we walked down the hallway into the classroom. What was my name? Where did I come from?

My English wasn’t that strong, and I was very stressed. I was starting to cry by the time we arrived. My teacher seated me next to a boy, who is now one of my best friends… still! I remember that we sat at the back of the classroom, and that he was reading a Jack and Annie book about Pompeii. The year wasn’t that eventful, although I had a little trouble with math, which ended up being pretty easy for me anyway. I like to tell people that I started reading Jack and Annie books in first grade (which would be considered advanced for a child that age), although I don’t think that’s true. One last thing happened at the end of the school year; Mrs. Teich had put together a little video with lots of pictures from throughout the school year. Of course, I wasn’t here for most of it (I started first grade in February), but people kept asking me if I remembered those events. I said yes and yes and yes, even though there were only two photos of events I was actually there for. Second grade was a little more stressful, with the introduction of AR. Accelerated Reader. It was a program where you would read a book irl, and then take a quiz on it! It was a straightforward concept, but my English wasn’t that good and I wasn’t very interested in reading books. But my dad REALLY wanted me to take a quiz. I don’t think it was grade, exactly, but at least I think you could get a few extra credit points. With one of my friends, Oliver Williams, I would read a book called “100 Hungry Ants.” It was a fun book and it made me laugh a ton. I decided to try my hand at taking a quiz. I went on the app from a school iPad, searched up a book and it appeared. It was a gray background, and the book showed up. It was the only book on there. I waited. What was it doing? For some reason, I expected AR to automatically choose the book. I ended up figuring out that I had to click it, and I took the test. I got a 100%. After this contratempts, I started taking more and more quizzes. The next quiz I did got a 60%, but then I started getting pretty good scores and getting better at comprehension.

In third grade, I was looking forward to spending another year with Oliver, but he sadly moved away. I made friends with another Oliver (our moms had met through the PTO), and that year wasn’t that memorable. That’s the year I began to hate math, but that’s also the year I started to form my love for literature and writing. Up until fourth grade, my success in school wasn’t…. Anything really remarkable. I think I probably didn’t get C’s, but I don’t think I was a straight-A student. Fourth grade changed that. My new friend, Oliver, was really good at school, getting straight-A’s every year and he even got a million words in AR in third grade alone. He would always say “I’ve never gotten below an A” or “Oh no! I’m getting so close to a B!” It made me want to push myself so I could join in and share these “struggles.” My success in school is, and I don’t mean to brag, undeniable, but I never think so. I think of myself as more of a pseudo-straight-A student. It’s not that I bribe the teachers or anything, but the success doesn’t really come from a genuine place, and it feels like more it’s me just… I don’t even know. One thing good about myself is that I retain information from school very well, and that I remember about schoolwork very well, even if I was just passively listening. It seems to have saved me quite a few times. 

Fifth grade was one of my happiest years, the teacher that I had was just so passionate and loving it was great. I started noticing that I loved geography, and that my reading craze was not stopping. This was also the first year I was in honors. I didn’t really like the teachers, and I felt like I didn’t really deserve to be there. On the first day, the teacher said that I was “very bright” because I took a palindrome from Weird Al Yankovich’s video “Bob.” Everyone was just so smart. 

Sixth grade was another… fine year. I got a new honors teacher which I like a lot better than the first, and I got to a million words for the third year in a row. I had also managed to get all A’s and B’s (but mostly A’s) for the last three years. I was faced by a choice at the end of 6th grade. Pretty much everyone from my school was going to Explorer Middle School, but there was another school called Sunrise that had a special program for “gifted” students. Explorer had much better electives, but Sunrise had a special program and 1 of my 2 best friends was already going there no matter what. I could tell my dad really wanted me to go to Explorer, but I really wanted to go to Sunrise. I pushed for Sunrise, even though it disappointed my dad. My seventh grade year was fine, I kept up the A’s and B’s and even made a few friends, which was starting to get rare. That’s where I am now, distance learning. I find it very hard to focus, whether it’s searching something up or looking out the window, but, on the bright side, I can wake up at 7 even and still make it on time, not even mentioning the 10 minute brakes we get in between classes. 

My sister recently took the gifted quiz, and she actually did better than me. She had tried more times than me, and she had just, for the first time, been able to qualify for “gifted.” Although I congratulate her, I can’t help but discredit her a little. The difference between my passing of the test and hers was that she had access to tons of training books. Books made for parents that NEEDED their kids to pass the test, and I did not. Now my dad is pushing for my sister to go to Sunrise, whereas last year he was pushing me to go to Explorer. My sister wants to go the latter. I feel bad for her. Just this year she was taken from the normal class (where she wants to be) and was put in the “self-contained” program, where they don’t switch classes and my sister can’t be with her friends (which none of them have passed the test). My sister wanted to go into honors (where only math and reading are in a special class). 

I’m sorry for the rant, and that this entry is so long (if anyone’s reading this). Yesterday my post was liked by Cheezbot, which I was excited about until I noticed it was a bot :/ 

See you next time!

[artificialqueens]

Girls Interrupted, Chapter 1: The Institution: 1, Katya: 0 (Vatya) 2/2 - Maeve

A/N: It’s Maeve again! I’m so freaking surprised and overjoyed at the positive reception Girls Interrupted has received. All of you who have such kind things have truly inspired me to keep going on this. I can now say I'm rewatching seasons in the name of research! As always, feedback is welcome. I write because I enjoy it but also so other people can enjoy it, too. So, really, I’d love to hear any feedback or suggestions.

P.S. I’m having so much fun writing the interactions between Katya and the other queens, but I think my favorite part of this chapter is either an especially cheeky Sharon Needles line or the gym teacher/coach that is very loosely based on a straight Santino Rice

This chapter picks up right where the last chapter left off: Violet and Katya’s ice breaker activity…

Fortunately, Violet realized that she would—at the very least—have to cooperate with the menial activity. “Violet,” she supplied cooly.

Katya tried and failed to stifle her laugh. The raven-haired girl looked at her challengingly.

“Tha-that’s a good choice. Very good. I love every color!” Katya stammered as she wrote down Violet’s response. She couldn’t be sure if her partner was filling out her own worksheet, but Katya couldn’t bring herself to care that much. She just wanted this over and done with. Each moment she spent next to the cheerleader made her feel more and more inadequate. Violet was judging her; she felt small enough on her own.

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” Katya continued.

This one Violet was quick to answer, “Literally anywhere but here.”

Her passive face told Katya she wasn’t going to get a better answer. I’ll just put down ‘Everywhere. She loves to travel.’, she resolved. “I think it would be really cool to go to Russia,” Katya offered.

Violet’s eyes left her phone screen. They searched the face of the blonde across the table, traveled down to Katya’s communism-inspired name card, and finally met her partner’s ocean blue eyes. “No?” Her face contorted in mock shock. “Let me guess,” she pandered, “If you could have lunch with any famous person dead or alive, you’d choose Putin.”

“Good guess,” Katya shook her head with amusement, “But it’s actually Maria Bamford.” It was obvious that Violet had no idea who Maria Bamford was. However, a quick glance at the clock told her there wasn’t enough time left in the class for her to go off on another tangent. “What about you, Violet?”

“Dita Von Teese. Next,” she urged.

“What are your favorite TV shows?” Katya continued eagerly, excited that Violet was finally being an active participant.

Violet’s response was almost instant, “Forensic Files and Sex and the City.” Everything about the brunette screamed confidence and certainty—something that came through in everything that she did. Katya wished it were that easy for her.

“I really like Game of Thrones, The Heart She Holler, and Storage Wars: Northern Treasures…..It’s the Canadian version,” Katya trailed off. There was an unspoken ‘and?’ in Violet’s expression, but she couldn’t produce a single reason for why that mattered. But it had mattered. “Anyway…What’s next?” Katya pushed through her embarrassment. “Something I’m good at? Sleeping, I’m good at sleeping. I guess I’m very bendy. Flexible. I can do theater, too…”

“Just put down cheer for me,” Violet ordered without looking up from her own worksheet. The blonde hesitated at the instruction, and Violet let out an impatient huff. “What?”

Katya was quick to apologize, “Sorry, it’s just that I thought you might say something about fashion.” She swallowed thickly. “I’m-I’ve seen you in the halls before, and you look good. Great. Your clothes. You clearly put a lot of effort into your appearance, and I thou—”

“Well, you thought wrong,” Violet spat. “You don’t know anything about me, so don’t pretend like you do.”

The blonde hurriedly scribbled down the word cheer under question five on her page and grabbed both of their papers. “Right. I’ll just go turn these in,” Katya fled the table without a thought. She had clearly angered Violet. Didn’t the popular kids like it when you stroked their egos? Katya wondered. She hadn’t meant to come off as judgemental. It was obvious that they weren’t on the same level, and hopefully Violet would understand that she hadn’t been trying to judge her. She only wanted to get to know the girl better, but she knew know how stupid she’d been to think that possible. No one like Violet would ever waste time on her. Sighing, she placed the two worksheets in a plastic turn-in bin labeled ‘4th’, and made her way back to her desk.

Katya had been disappointed that she had double A Lunch, but the forty minutes were the perfect break before pre-calculus. While it meant she could eat earlier, it also meant that she had no friends to eat with. Ginger and Bianca both had B Lunch. So Katya found herself on the steps of the stairs in the courtyard by the fine arts wing, eating a peanut butter and banana sandwich. There was beauty in the simple things, though, and Katya could appreciate the warmth of the sun and the slight breeze that late morning.

Mrs. Hugh’s room was stuffy. Katya’s funfetti extravaganza was clinging to her yet again, but she couldn’t adjust the fabric too much without disrupting those around her. She wasn’t willing to risk it. Unlike in all her other classes, the blonde always sat front and center in math class. All of the numbers made a mess in her head, and it was easier if she had fewer distractions. No one else felt the same way, though. So when Alaska tumbled in just before the tardy bell, Katya was forced into yet another less than ideal situation.The sunny cheerleader didn’t share that sentiment. Alaska flashed Katya a hundred watt smile and whispered a hello.

Katya didn’t get Alaska. Alaska wasn’t your stereotypical dumb blonde. She struggled in some areas but always kept up with the pack. So she was smarter than she looked? Big deal. What Katya failed to understand was why such a kind, sincere, and smart person would allow herself to be bullied by her peers. The cheer squad clearly didn’t think she had brain cells; Alaska was practically their punching bag from what she’d observed. So why hang around?

Miss Honard, you are an enigma, Katya assessed.

Katya’s continued curiosity over the duration of  Mrs. Hugh’s introductory speech gained her a very important piece of information: if she couldn’t get the lanky blonde out of her head, she was going to have to let her in. And Katya would not be friends with a cheerleader.

Katya praised Marx for the district employee who put Bianca Del Rio in her history class. She and Bianca were unlikely friends—a high school mascot and a theater kid didn’t really run in the same circles—but made an unstoppable duo. Coach A., their teacher seemed to get a kick out of them too.

Bianca was an unexpected constant in Katya’s life. The self-proclaimed bitch was Spartacus, the high school mascot, and the two would never have overlapped if not for their shared love/hate relationship with theater. She was a year younger than Katya but that didn’t stop her from providing Katya with the tough love she needed to keep her head screwed on. Keeping her head on straight was out of the question; Bianca did what she could.

The two girls schlepped over to the far side of the school where the gym was located. Katya, who had made the dumb decision to postpone getting her PE credit for as long, was not looking forward to an entire year of physical activity. Bianca, on the other hand, basically earned herself a double off campus by taking on the role of mascot. And yes, she definitely took pleasure in rubbing the fact in Katya’s face. Sucks to suck.

The other shit thing about a 7th period gym class was that Katya would be in uncomfortably close proximity to the cheerleaders. It felt wrong—almost like she was breaking a nonexistent restraining order. What sick bastard decided the plebs in “team sports” should be forced to observe the pretty girls in peak physical capacity while they drowned in their own sweat? Katya didn’t know the answer, and you certainly couldn’t hold her accountable if they were suddenly beheaded.

One locker and a stack of unisex uniforms later, Katya found herself entertaining the musings of Sharon Needles, resident goth girl.

“‘I look spooky, but I’m really nice,’” Sharon had said when they were assigned lockers next to each other. The witchy teen had a thing for reading people—not that an anxious Katya was hard to see through—and took one look at her and saw a kindred spirit. The funfetti dress and clown shoes didn’t scream normal, either. Katya had been uncharacteristically optimistic about befriending Sharon for all of ten minutes before everything went to shit. Phi Phi O’Hara, Sharon’s mortal enemy, also happened to be in the class.

“I’m surprised you took gym, Party City. Wouldn’t want you to melt in your own sweat.” Phi Phi snarked. The playground bully reclined herself against the row of lockers across from them and examined her nails.

Katya groaned inwardly. Sharon groaned outwardly.

“Fuck off, Phi Phi,” Sharon begged. “Don’t you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice? My ears are bleeding and not in a pleasant way.”

“Eat shit and die, Shar Bear,” Phi Phi called over her shoulder as she skipped off to bother some other poor shmucks.

Phi Phi the schoolyard bully reminded Katya of the villain poodle in one of those Open Season movies. Ironically, that poodle was also named Fifi, which was funny because the poodle was also a boy. Fifi the poodle was groomed like a pretty purse dog and had a little blue bow in his hair. Katya was inclined to take Phi Phi O’Hara—who was not incredibly dissimilar to a trophy pet—just as seriously.

“What crawled up her ass and died?” Katya scrunched up her face.

“If you find out, let me know,” Sharon deadpanned. “I need a smoke.” Katya watched in amusement as the locker room’s resident goth chick removed a pack of Marlboro’s and a lighter from her leather jacket. Sharon caught the blonde’s expression and raised her fist in response. “Fight the system,” she stoically decreed. Katya shrugged as if to say “what can you do?” and gestured for Sharon to walk back to the gym with her.

Their gym class had been banished to the wooden bleachers so the cheerleaders could practice for that Friday’s Back-To-School Pep Rally. The two girls tucked themselves into a far corner on the top row, and Sharon finally lit up.

Coach Rice, who had taken attendance at the beginning of class, had stepped in to assist Coach Calhoun with cheer practice.

Katya and Sharon were fortunate enough to have an unobstructed view of the girls shamelessly throwing themselves at the older man. The majority of the bimbettes were faces she expected: Detox, Roxy, Willam, Courtney, Adore, and Laganja. What she wasn’t expecting, however, was for one Violet Chachki to be the leader of the pack. Stratford’s mean queen never sought out attention, let alone fought for it. Miss Chachki was a one of a kind collectible, and the entire student body knew it. You either wanted her or wanted to be her.

Today, it seemed her flavor of choice was Santino Rice.

Katya udged Sharon with her elbow. “What do you make of that?” She consulted the other girl.

Sharon took a moment to complete her assessment. “I bet a girl that tightly wound is a real screamer in bed,” she answered smoothly. Katya had not been expecting any response of the sort and physically toppled over as she was seized by laughter. Katya’s wheezing drew the attention of those nearby, and Sharon had to hold her cigarette in her mouth so she could flip them off with both hands. They could mind their own fucking business.

Katya was still clinging onto Sharon’s thigh when her fit died down. “You bitch!” She shrieked.

“I’m not wrong,” Sharon defended, taking another long drag from her cigarette. “Ten bucks says she’s hitting on him right now.” In her best Valley Girl impression she crooned, “Oh, Coach Rice, can you help me with my form?”

Katya wasted no time in contributing to the impression. “Can we go to Red Lobster?” The blonde begged in her best Violet-esque bedroom voice.

The absurdity of the request and the thought of Violet, herself, saying those words caused Sharon to half cackle and half choke on her own smoke. Her throaty laugh bounced off of the walls, and this time, it wasn’t just a few pairs of eyes that turned to them.

Uh oh, Katya cringed, busted.

“Sharon Needles, put that shit out and march your ass on over to Assistant Principal Visage’s office!” Coach Rice demanded.

Katya facepalmed hard. What is wrong with you, you stupid whore? She groaned. It’s your fault she’s in deep shit, and she’s never going to speak to you again. The blonde was about to lose herself in an abyss of despair when Sharon’s voice filled the room again.

“Oh no!” Sharon drawled, “Whatever shall I do?” Katya had brought her head up to witness the spectacle and was met with Sharon’s shit-eating grin.

Katya raised her fist in solidarity, referencing Sharon’s anti-establishment words in the locker room. Her spooky new friend shot her a cheeky wink before saluting her corporate whistleblower and unhurriedly leaving the building.

Katya’s eyes left Sharon’s retreating form just in time to catch Violet glaring at her.

The blonde did her best not to worry. It wasn’t like Violet could have known they were talking about her, right?

The bell rang at 3:00, and Katya still hadn’t managed to put the captain of the cheer squad out of her mind. She spent her entire 8th period dodging Bianca’s questions and pleading for some all-knowing entity to tell her just where in life she had gone wrong. Definitely new year, same bullshit. Katya had attempted to begin her junior year with a more optimistic attitude, but after a first day for the history books, she was ready to call it quits.

You win, Stratford, you win. I am but a shell of a man. Woe is the poor soul who dare enter thee, Katya scowled.

The rest of Katya’s will to live vanished when she finally reached her trusty blue Beetle in the junior lot.

“Mother, I am want to commit death,” she muttered.

The cherry red convertible parked next to Katya’s car belonged to none other than Violet Chachki. The bright red exterior was blinding under the afternoon sun, and Katya had to squint to make out faces. A swarm of girls in uniform short skirts and halter tops formed a green and white sea around her only means of escape. Not wanting to engage with Violet for a third time that day, the blonde chose to turn on her heels and pop a squat on the curb.

It was going to be a long year.