Chapter Text
It was the last month of the semester, which meant that whatever attitude you had towards school and studying had been severely worsened. Saint Mary's School of Pristine Girls had even been counting on it, seeing as they didn't seem to care one bit as Chris Monroe and her exclusive group of girls (all part of the cheerleader squad) all left their lessons halfway through to have an early lunch together in the dining hall. None of them were even considering going to any of their other classes that day, all just wanting to end the school portion of the day as soon as physically possible. They hadn't said it but they didn't need to because Chris knew it anyways. She was on the top of their friend hierarchy and the position didn't come without its perks.
Most of her friends were talking bragging about what they were going to do when they got back home. Marcie Medina, the follower who was always trying to show off how she had what it takes to be a leader was going on and on about how she was going to this luxurious ski resort over Christmas and Cynthia (probably one of her favorites among the group) was trying to convince everyone that her party would be the highpoint of the year. She waited for the voices to quiet down and the focus to rest on her before finally bestowing her plans on them. Her father was hosting a party of his own and she was supposed to network, a word that she had completely left out in her description of her break. No, she told them about how cute the boys were going to be and how she was going to be the main event of the evening. One of them brought up her mother - she didn't register who - and she was quick to shot whoever it was down with a remark about how she was too busy working and saving up to buy her the best gift a girl could ask for. She did her best not to let the resentment she felt towards the woman show. Some of the girls were too nosy for their own good and she didn't want the word to go around.
Despite their reason for being in the massive room being to eat their attention rarely fell on any food. Small ladylike bites that were swallowed before any taste could be truly felt. She studied the girls in front of her and next to her. There were six of them, she was of course seated in the middle, with Heather sitting opposite her, Cynthia on her right and Eleanor on her left. Her attention landed on Heather. She noticed how quiet the girl was being, how still she was and how little her blonde hair moved because of it. One of the lunch ladies passed their table and accidentally walked into Eleanor's chair on the way, causing the "natural" redhead to turn around quicker than should be possible and look at her in disgust. "Watch yourself."
Heather looked up at her, her flowing hair turning with her, as if there was some joke that only they knew. As is she was the only one who mattered and despite being used to being the center of attention, Chris knew this was the first time she'd ever experienced a look like that. All it had taken was a vague, unknowing reference to the short phrase they told each other each and every time they got close during cheer practice. One that had started off hostile but ground into something... different over time. She liked the look, Heather looked happier when she gave it and for some reason that she couldn't quite understand Heather's happiness was important to her.
"Hey! Don't shut out the rest of us," Marcie interrupted and tore Heather's attention away. She glared at her, wishing for it to cause her physical if not also emotional pain. Count on Marcie "The Mouth" to screw everything up. "What was that all about?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Marce. Are you sure your step-mommy refilled your prescription for this month?" Apparently she hadn't been the only one angry at the distraction, not that Heather Reynolds wasn't famous for her chaotic mood swings. She was always one second away from snapping at someone but since they stopped being hostile against each other she always kept her cool with Chris. Something she was weirdly grateful for.
Marcie's face became red hot at the comment and she didn't even bother hiding her amusement, in fact, she laughed right in her face without a second thought. She could tell Heather was smiling from the corner of her eye.
"Practice is coming up," Cynthia noticed, barely looking up from her phone. When had she lost her full focus? "Maybe if we hurry up we'll be done before Florence gets there." All the girls around the table (minus her, Heather and Marcie) giggled and the girl on Heather's right (Summer?, she guessed) hurried to get her voice in before the subject had a chance to change yet again or something or someone else stole her spotlight.
"I don't know if I could survive another peep-show," she squeaked like a tiny mouse. Summer was the most annoying out of them all. Smart enough to skip a grade but not smart enough to get a personality of her own. She barely resisted the urge to stomp her foot down on hers but convinced herself that it would be easy for her to miss and land on someone else's. Chris knew it wouldn't be hard to find a replacement on the team for Summer but it would be harder with any of the others. Some of the girls continued making similar jokes as they got up and started walking away but she zoned them all out. Instead, she thought about the way Heather had smiled at her, how it had come with a look of approval and how it felt as if her smile was a gateway directly to her soul. She started smiling herself, figuring the girls would just think their lame joked were the cause but then she realized that if Heather's was a gateway then hers could be too. It straightened out her mouth and if she started walking quicker than before then no one pointed it out.
The dining hall was in the center of it all, making their walk to their lockers a brisk one. All their lockers were close together except for Summer's, which stood on the opposite side, away from their sight. It was what the girl deserved and this time she smirked because a smirk isn't a smile and she would be fine.
She wiped the sweat off her brow and glared daggers at the door into the gym. "Has Kaden ever considered giving us a break?" She knew that the school prefered two leaders, a student one and one that was part of the faculty but they seriously needed a new student coach. Why did Lani have to graduate the previous year? "Or you know not acted like a slave runner?" Heather snorted while drinking her water. Some of the girls had complained about homework and managed to get out early, others had just decided to freshen up in their own rooms in fear of Florence or being seen in a vulnerable, naked state. It was only her and Heather left now and Chris couldn't decide how she felt about her locker being so close to Heather's.
"I'm sure if Kaden had her way we'd all be full-time slaves."
Chris took a sip herself and barely swallowed before opening her mouth. "Not me, girl. I have connections outside the continent." She changed into a new bra that she had bought during her and Cynthia's shopping trip the previous weekend. Cynthia had talked about how hot and heavy any guy who had a chance to see it would be but she had been surprisingly indifferent towards the compliment. It was the first time she was wearing it outside of a fitting room and if she took some time to inspect herself in one of the mirrors then who could blame her?
"We all have connections outside America," she stated, almost completely dressed.
"Outside of Europe?" She challenged in a lighthearted manner and pulled on the matching pair of panties, loving the way the fabric felt on her skin.
Heather rolled her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. "You got me there." She appeared to have noticed something, halfway through pulling on her skirt.
"I always do."
Frustrated for some unknown reason (what had she noticed?) Heather tore her shirt off and threw it forcefully onto the floor, leaving Chris to stare at her as she did so. This was unusual behavior, even for her. She raised her eyebrows as if to say what they fuck around you doing?
"It's not mine. It's Honor's." She went as far as to stomp on the shirt and Chris shouldn't feel her fresh panties dampen at the sight. "I can't walk around in a fucking cheerleader outfit." She didn't need to ask why she couldn't use the shirt she previously wore. They were all leaving as soon as practice was over and no one wore the school uniform any longer than they had to. She was wondering who Honor was though. No one in their group or in the school really gave too many details of their life outside of the boarding school.
"Yeah, we wouldn't want Florence to think you were sending her any signals," Chri joked because no one else was there and all of the sudden her chest didn't tighten whenever she witnessed someone mocking the girl. Heather's did though. She could see the grimace she hadn't even bothered to attempt to hide and somehow that made it all worse.
"I'll take my chances." She quickly slipped her shoes on one by one, shut her jacket over her bare upper body and slammed her locker shut. "Have fun being neglected by your mom this holiday." She slammed the door as well and left Chris all by herself, wondering how it had all gone so wrong. Chris briefly blamed herself before shifting it to Heather. She didn't even fucking tell her what she had done wrong! Not that she had done anything wrong but if she had then Heather was the one in the wrong.
She noticed that Heather had neglected to lock up her locker in her rush and in a flash of anger she grabbed the sweater and ripped it. She even tearing into it as she walked towards the sink inside the bathroom. She scoffed and drowned the torn fabric in water before going back to their lockers and hanging it up in the middle of Heather's and locking it in. She hadn't bothered taking any time to think her actions through but Heather wasn't the only one with anger streaks and later that evening on her way back to her room after a rather expensive shopping trip together with Eleanor (Cynthia had been too busy occupying her time with some other, rather carnal activities) she thought back to what had happened and knew that thinking things through wouldn't have changed anything. Chris wanted the blonde's things soiled, ruined. It wasn't an unusual feeling for her, Heather wasn't powerful enough to change her.
Her roommate, Naomi Chapman, ever the nonverbal loner, barely acknowledged her as she entered their room. She never did, she was the only one at the school that Chris knew that wouldn't. They were supposed to get ready to go back down to the dining hall and have dinner soon ut she knew Naomi wasn't going to leave (she never did), so she didn't have to either. Instead, she sat down on the bed and began to paint her fingernails and then toenails. Cirka half and hours into their assigned dinner time she was finally given the time of day.
"What the hell are you still doing here?" It wasn't the type of conversation starter that Chris preferred but it was a conversation starter nonetheless, so she happily put down the polish bottle and focused on the other.
"Where's your food stash?"
"I don't have one."
"Don't bullshit me. I know you have two kinds of stashes, now I already know where one of them is so unless you want me to empty that one I advise you to tell me what I want." It was an empty threat based on the occasional visit of red eyes but if said with enough confidence one could speak anything into existence. A few seconds later Naomi got on her knees in front of her bed and pulled out a mini-fridge laying on its side. She flopped back down on her bed as soon as it was visible without a word. "Thank you, my tiny little goth girl."
"How come you're not downstairs?" She was asked as she began to root through the small container.
"What is this? Concern?" she joked and fished out a pre-made sandwich. She usually wasn't one to eat bread but she didn't care that night. "One would think you cared."
"Shut up." Naomi blushed. "There's a drawer underneath there too just don't take everything." Chris gave her an amused smile and her face darkened even more. "Do shut up."
"Whatever you say," she teased and reached for the mystery drawer. "This better not be murder or kink related." One look inside it showed her that she had been far from right. "Doritos?" She raised her eyebrows.
"No one's forcing you to eat them."
"No one can force me to do anything." She grabbed one of the bags and stood up. "Scoot over."
"What-"
"Scoot." She started laying down next to her, therein forcing her to move or get crushed.
"I can't believe you."
"You better start believing."
The last thing Chris Monroe could remember when she woke up the next day was watching Netflix together on Naomi's laptop and throwing chips on her when she started poking holes into the movie. What she didn't remember and could in no way remember as both she and her roommate were asleep next to each other was that her friends had grown worried when dinner came and went without a trace of her and eventually they had decided that Summer Conway was to check what was going on and the combination of desperation to climb the social ladder, lack of ideas for the school's infamous newspaper and vision of two girls curled up together in the same bed gave her an idea.