Beatrix Kingsley was in the studio room reading the school paper, where The Morning Show was preparing to go live, when a small, clumsy strawberry blonde freshman tripped, spilling black coffee on her red tank and jacket. Coldly, she looked at the now stained paper and her soaked chest and forced a smile at the girl, who was a deer in the headlights. “Are you…”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” The girl squealed, not providing solutions. Instead she ran off to hide in the side room.

“...kidding me.” Trixie exasperatedly breathed.



Bringing her attention to her best friend, Trixie complained, “Jamie, I take one sick day and this piece of crap gets approved? Where they give us nothing but booty. Laugh so hard you piss your pants. We’re lucky the teachers don’t read our shit or we wouldn’t have met the deadline,” Trixie tossed the ruined newspaper into the garbage and reached for a couple of napkins off a side counter. “Earth to Jamie, you hearing me?” She dabbed her chest, trying to clean the coffee at least off her skin.

Jamie Callaghan was not hearing her, at least not actively. His eyes were squinting down at his phone, where a picture of his ex-boyfriend stared back at him. It took another shout, this time louder and harder to miss, before he shook his head and met Trixie’s gaze. His brain tripped over itself as he processed her words, before the look of shock on his face melted into easy amusement.

“Yeah, I might've let the underclassmen take that one, and I pretty much just skimmed it. I thought the ‘booty’ line was kind of funny though.” Jamie winced, certainly not proud of blowing off his responsibilities, but definitely not ashamed. He didn’t tell her what he’d been doing instead, and he really didn’t need to. It was clear it involved the boy he’d been cyber stalking. Jamie gestured after the fleeing freshman, and asked, “You sure this doesn’t have more to do with the coffee that Bambi just spilled all over you?”

“That certainly doesn’t help,” Trixie grimaced, tossing the napkins away and sighing at her ruined outfit. Oh well. She had a spare top in her locker, she’d change soon enough. “There’s some background noise going on at home, I guess. Marcos might’ve gotten a girl knocked up which won’t look good on the family, at all. And my brothers are just annoying. I need a break, like an actual break, away from my family.” When the voices turned into a hush and they tested the mics, Trix knew it was time to leave. She gestured for Jamie to follow her out the room, “How ‘bout you? Anything new going on? You’ve… not been yourself lately.” There was a hint of worry in Trixie’s tone though she tried to mask it so Jamie didn’t deflect.

Jamie chewed his bottom lip for a moment, smirking ever so slightly. He did love a good secret, even if it was his own. “So, I know I said AJ and I were done for good last time. And we very much were. Well, now we…very much aren’t.” Jamie smiled, the kind of awkward smile that you can only manage when you’ve really taken a ride in the clown car. “It’s fun right now, and when it stops being fun, I’ll stop.”

Trixie observed her friend as he talked. She couldn’t necessarily relate to him, seeing how she was selective with who she dated and never felt the same passion Jamie had for AJ. Still, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Last year he had told her he needed to focus on himself and find direction, without the disappointment of AJ falling short or the self doubt he carried in himself. Time and time again she found him opening his phone and staring at his ex. Was he really ready to let him go? Why did he keep going back?

“It’s fun until someone gets hurt,” Trixie corrected, crossing her arms as they walked further and further away from the school studio. “Be careful, Jay. I know you like the company, and the cuddles, but like… what was the point of breaking up with him if you don’t want to let go? I don’t know. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. You're... playing a dangerous game, babe.”

Jamie smiled and slung his arm around Trixie. She was probably right to worry about him. He and AJ had a tendency to take things to extremes when they were together, and the highest of highs were usually followed by the lowest of lows. Whether Jamie refused to see that, or just didn’t care, it didn’t really matter. When AJ Motherfucking Tyler got involved, Jamie wasn’t exactly reasonable. “It’s sweet that you care, Trix, but I am fine. Honestly, without all the pressure of the relationship, I don’t know, it’s just better this time around.” Jamie had grown very adept at lying to himself. “We can dissect my questionable choices literally any other time, what is the plan for homecoming? I will lay down on the 405 if I have to third wheel with Scott and Katie, I’m dead serious.”

Before Trixie could answer, Ethan Green, the leader of the Elite, was coming out of the bathroom with a brunette girl from the junior year, who was quick to rush away. She hid her face with her sweater as she did so. When the ‘king’ of the school noticed the dynamic newsie duo, he couldn’t help but grin. “Heyoooo Jamie, Trixie…” he greeted, as his gaze trailed down to her chest briefly, getting distracted.

“Hey. Eyes up here, asshole,” Trixie grumpily hissed.

“Yeah... my b. Did you know your nipples are showing?” Ethan chuckled, amused at how feisty Trixie was getting. Too bad she’d never give him the time of day. Trixie was extremely clear with her standards and expectations, similar to Naomi, the Queen Bee of the school. Some girls were more firm with what they wanted than others and Ethan was far too lazy to chase those kind of girls. Neither of them were interesting enough for him to play the chasing game anyways.

The editor-in-chief clicked her tongue in response, tightening her arms around her boobs. She glared and waited expectantly, obviously in quite a sour mood.

“Anyways, I’m throwing a party tomorrow, after the dance. It’s going to be lit. I’m thinking after they announce the king and queen, everyone head to the parking lot and we ride.”

“... where is this party going to be held exactly?” Trixie curtly inquired. Part of her was intrigued and the other part of her wanted this conversation to hurry up so she could change.

“My family’s vineyard, so like, plan an overnight bag! It’s going to be fun. Promise,” Ethan charmingly smiled and ran his hand through his hair, smooth and handsome. All things he knew he was. “And now that I’ve told you two. Please spread the word. Let our whole year know. You’re good at that.” Ethan clasped his hands together and sweetly pouted at his two peers. “Please,” he playfully begged. “It would be so awesome if you two did this for me and my bro."

“We are good at that, aren’t we?” Jamie smiled, and rolled his eyes at Ethan’s plea. He looked over at Trixie, and back at the jock, as if they needed to clear their schedules. “We can arrange that, as long as you get us our own room. We’re not bunking with the randos that find their way on the bus.” Jamie’s phone buzzed and his voice fell off as he slipped it from his pocket, a message from AJ front and center on his lock screen.

From: AJ Motherfucking Tyler
Here. I'll be at our usual spot... I got you breakfast.

Jamie smirked, and looked back at Ethan and Trixie. “I’m going to run, but I will tell my sources about your party, and I’ll see you,” Jamie pointed at Trixie, “at the rally, please, pleasepleaseplease save me a seat.” Jamie spun on his heel and made his way down the hall, practically skipping away. What was that thing they always said about the road to hell? Paved with good intentions, and all that jazz.

"Wait!" Ethan called out as Jamie sped walk down the hall like a bat out of hell. "The theme is: Risky Business!" Damn. He was gone. At least Trixie was here to make sure her partner-in-crime was on the same page as her. "Sheesh, where the hell is he running off to?"

"Disaster. Now! Risky Business, you say. Like the Tom Cruise movie?" Trixie asked, verifying her information so she wasn't spreading false information but also, that film was old and some of their peers may have never watched it. She didn't know if there were any other Risky Business items out there but she needed to make sure that her peers didn't make a fool of themselves unintentionally, especially not to the top dog of the school who was a film dweeb (even if he tried to play it cool).

"Exactly that," Ethan smirked as his gaze sparked with excitement. Truth be told, the theme for this week was entirely his doing. It was his last year so he wanted to make the last of everything count. Why not share his love for movies with his peers? "Since everyone is going to bring an overnight bag, they can change in the bathroom, on the bus... or at the vineyard, into one of the character's looks. It's gonna' be golden, baby."

Trixie glowered at the jock's words, "Don't call me baby but okay. Message heard. Send me the address just in case and we'll see what we can do."

"You got it, gurl. You two are literally the best. Life savers, honestly."

"Or you're just lazy and coming to us to alleviate stress," Trixie got to her locker and turned away from the Elite leader to focus on her combination.

"Alleviate stress you say..." Ethan impishly grinned, gently mocking Trixie a little, while he inched closer to see if the Gossip girl would bite.

"You can go now, Ethan Green. Don't you have a girlfriend to see?"

"Ah, yes. I guess boyfriend duties do call but I should probably check on my brother first," Ethan rolled his eyes in response to the wall Trixie put up and glanced at his phone to several texts. Some from his parents only causing him to give an exasperated sigh. No matter. He had to focus in on the day. Bringing his attention back to the beautiful girl, he added, "I'm surprised you're still, you know, available. Even with a wet top, you're—"

"Goodbye, Ethan."

He smiled at her response before dismissing himself, "See ya, Beatrix." He walked away and gave a one arm wave, heading to his next destination, "Thanks for helping a lazy boy out."

Standing at the refreshment table, stirring the disgusting amount of sugar Rye required into the boy’s coffee cup, Sully couldn’t help but wonder if he really was invisible sometimes or if Jamie and Trixie just thought they were exempt from being overheard by those around them. Even someone that simply floats through the day to day like himself knows that if you want to keep things a secret, don’t speak a word of it near the Media wing. He finished making Rye’s coffee and moved on to DJ’s, adding her one sugar and three cream- much more reasonable- wondering how long it would be before things got extremely tense in the Studio. Shaking his head, Sully pulled the bill of his hat down more and made his way to the side room with coffee for him and his fellow co-hosts balanced in his hands, a donut on top of the third cup for the poor Freshman that accidentally dumped the coffee all over Trixie.

When he entered the side room, Rye had the sobbing girl sitting in the desk chair and was cracking jokes at her in an attempt to calm her down, but the tears and whimpering continued. Despite his comforting hand on her shoulder and his lighthearted tone, the look in his eyes when he caught Sully’s screamed ’help me’, and all Sully could do was raise an eyebrow under his cap and stare back, the two only children stuck in a silent conversation. With a resigned sigh after a moment of intense quiet, the streamer set his cargo down on the table and walked over with the donut to crouch next to Rye’s position, in front of the crying Freshman. He pat her head lightly with one hand and when she looked up in confusion, he thrust the donut into her hands.

“I’m not a great comforter, here, it’s hard to cry when you’re eatin’ and these donuts are delicious,” He spoke up honestly, tousling her hair in approval when she hiccupped and took a small bite while Rye stared at him incredulously from where he was leaning against the side of the desk. How the boy crouched beside him was so socially detached while having enough people following him on the internet that the stream-team scooped him up as soon as he arrived, Rye will never know. He himself liked to switch up the way that he acted a bit depending on who he was around, but the stark difference in Sully minutes before the camera is on him versus the second that the on air sign lights up is still a bit mind-boggling even in their fourth year of work together.

The final warning was called through the door, meaning asses in seats in five minutes or you were benched and one of the other co-hosts had to adapt and take over your lines. The girl jumped at the assistant’s voice before looking at her two upperclassmen with teary eyes. Sully, who hadn’t taken his comforting hand off of the girl’s head yet, gave her a warm smile and a final assuring pat as he stood up from his crouch, his whole demeanor becoming warmer with the look. The girl blushed when Sully’s back was turned, the boy oblivious to it and now a bit tired by the interaction, searching for the coffee he’d set down earlier. He grabbed the cup and began chugging its contents as if he hadn’t abruptly exited the situation, and Rye once again found himself in charge of dealing with the girl who would surely be embarrassed if Sully turned around and saw her face now.

“Okay, hun, take a trip to the bathroom and splash some cold water on your face, it’s showtime in five and we need the skills of everyone in the crew,” he prompted with an enthusiastic clap and leading tilt of the head, giving her her opening to scurry out, which she took without hesitation. His attention turned back to Sully and he suppressed a sigh when he saw the other boy had finished chugging his cup of coffee and was staring forlornly at his empty cup. “If you drink mine or DJ’s you will face death.”

Sully pulled a face at Rye after glaring at the other two cups. “Nah, y’all take way too much shit in yours,” He countered, causing the curly haired boy to stutter his indignation. “Don’t argue, you’re lucky that I even make yours specifically with the heinous amounts of sugar you use.”

“Deej uses three creams how the hell is that too sweet.”

“And a sugar. All you need is a splash of cream.”

“You’re a monster.”

“I’m right.”

“Hey guys I’m not trying to be a dick here but-” The Sophomore assistant that had called out the final warning burst through the door, looking a bit frantic.

“Three minutes.” They answered in unison while turning to him with raised eyebrows, motions completely in sync after years of working and hanging out side by side.

“We’re comin’.” Sully assured, and the boy disappeared again, looking like the interaction took something precious from him. Rye made to follow the underclassman’s exit and in a split moment Sully acted on impulse, hand reaching out to grasp his wrist before he got any further. Rye turned to him in confusion.

“Sully, damn, buy me some dinner first,” He spoke up without hesitation, falling back to flirting to cover up his surprise at the initiated contact from the other boy. “At least some coffee and conversation-”

“This thing with AJ,” He cut the smaller boy off, letting his wrist drop and bringing his hands up to shift his hat around on his head and pick at the frayed brim. Rye’s mock flirtatious smile faltered and his eyes flashed to the door of the office, which had thankfully closed again behind the Sophomore. “You think it’s safe not to tell Jamie?”

“What? Why would we? None of us are dating,” Rye asked, looking at Sully like he’d grown a second head. “What the hell prompted this, dude?”

Sully found himself frowning in…frustration? Maybe disappointment, he was unsure. The feeling was already slipping away from him and they didn’t have any time for him to try and chase it, so he let it go with a deep breath and a short blink.

“It doesn’t matter, man, I just…like, none of you should be gettin’ hurt over somethin’ like that,” He struggled, unwilling to speak on anything he’d overheard and risk spreading gossip but also feeling a deep seated worry over the whole situation that he couldn’t quite explain. “Just be careful.”

“Hurt? Sulls, what the fuck?” Rye asked with a confused laugh, still worried his co-host was losing it but also starting to feel a bit of anxiety over the whole thing himself. Sully wasn’t the type to just bring shit up out of nowhere, especially about other people’s relationship dynamics. His fingers began to tap a rapid staccato against his thigh in a bid to rid himself of the sudden nervous energy. “No one is going to get hurt. We aren’t together, we’re just having a little fun, that’s not illegal. Why do I owe Jamie any sort of information about my sex life?”

Sully tilted his head, still frowning at the other boy, but before he could say anything else he saw Mr. Wells on the other side of the door, tapping his watch at them both.

“Shit. One minute, let’s go,” He said instead, already letting go of the conversation with no intention to ever return to it. He reached over to grab DJ’s coffee and hustled past a frozen and reeling Rye, out of the room and into his seat with forty five seconds to spare. He handed their co-host her coffee and watched as Rye slowly made his way into his seat with his own coffee cup partially crumpled in his grasp. They greeted DJ properly with ten seconds to spare and then they all settled with their sheets as the countdown began. There was no time for frowns or confusion now.

It was showtime.

It had become a ritual;

To watch her.

Theo hadn’t realised it until recently but it was a ritual that he had been doing all his life. As far back as he could remember he would wake up in the morning for the rise of the sun, ready for the intense physical training with his father, legendary basketball player, “KVC” himself Kip Van Cise. He would wake up, go immediately for a run and then lift weights in the garage until it was time to get ready for school. Then, as he ascended the outside stairs that led to the upper floor, Theo would look to the raised window behind him and she would be there.

Trixie would be in that room, across the small patch of perfectly manicured emerald grass and the white picket fence that separated their homes and she would be there standing like a vision of the goddess. And he would watch. He would see her flick her hair back; choose her armour for the day's coming battle, apply her warpaint and get into the character of Trixie Kingsley. Bea, as he knew her.

It was a ritual.

The drive to Beverly Hills High in his classic 1969 Chevy Stingray felt longer than it normally did. Maybe it was the air of trepidation acting like a fog around him that Theo couldn’t cut through. His breakup pre-summer was big news, of course it was, he was the Franchise. Yet it didn’t feel like it was that. No, something else was weighing on his broad shoulders. It could’ve been that Bronwyn had gotten more annoying and was so excited for her junior year. Theo loved his little sister dearly but she just could not stop talking; that might be part of it. The reality was that he had deemed his senior year, his year. Theo was going to take what he wanted and give nothing back and there was something that he had had his eye on, something he had been wanting for a while and absolutely nothing was gonna stop him.

“Love you! Have a great day!”

Bronwyn was an angel on Earth, a pearly white smile and eyes like diamonds which she stole from their father the day she was born. Theo looked like his Mom. She was naive to the world in which they grew up, protected by a light that their mother shone onto her. He was not, he saw everything for what it was; an opportunity, an army of the damned souls who didn’t know that they were already dead.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Theo waved back with a smile for his sister before he climbed out of the driver's seat and locked up his vehicle. He had kept the same parking spot since he got his car. It was a prime location, perfect to people watch, to learn and soak in all the new information and gossip that he would no doubt use to continue his reign over the deluded Nepo babies that he was surrounded with. In the distance, he could see the unmistakable flaming red hair of his cousin Tallulah and her twin Alexandria; the Strattons. No doubt the two were up to some mischief. Unlike him, they wore what they did on their sleeves. One day it would bite them in their asses and as much as he enjoyed their company, he couldn’t wait to see it happen.

As he entered the school and walked the hallways of his empire, Theo’s dark eyes caught sight of Trixie rushing into a disabled bathroom with a drawstring bag that she had pulled from her nearby locker. Now that was interesting. She was moving very fast, in a rush into a room she had no business being in. What pray tell was she doing? Well now he had to know, time was there to be killed after all? Theo stepped through the crowd, shaking the hands and patting the shoulders of his adoring public until enough of their time was wasted on him and their focus redirected onto the next athlete or popular kid that followed behind. With their glares elsewhere, the redhead slipped down the side hall and followed Trixie into the bathroom.

He made a point of slamming the door behind him, a smirk curling across his round face as he locked eyes with a bare chested Trixie. “Well well, what do we have here? My Bea caught doing something she shouldn’t be?”

Involuntarily, goosebumps made their presence known on her skin. Trixie would curse under her breath for rushing to change and forgetting to lock the door but she was caught off guard. She didn’t even think she’d be here long since all she was going to do was put a black halter top on and a comfortable sweater. Instead she held her shirt close to her chest and turned to face away from her ex. The anxiety that was now residing in the pit of her stomach caused her heart to race. She couldn’t think straight but the last thing she should do was show a sign of weakness.

Woefully unprepared, Trixie tried to steady her breathing. They hadn’t been this close in years. The only time they were in close proximity was when they had to be because of class or walking past one another in the halls. She had no idea what motivated him to do this and quite frankly, she was not going to stand for it. This was not proper for a gentleman, a boy, or a person in general. Get it together, Trix. Don’t let him have the upperhand. Rushing to put her top on, she hissed, “What the fuck are you doing in here, Teddy?” Once her chest was covered she turned to face him, harshly. “Did your mom not teach you common sense?”

“We both know that neither of us are common.” Theo could see the residual bumps on her arms from when he entered. This was Beverly Hills, the cold didn’t exist here. Those goosebumps were for him, they always were. No matter what they would always be connected to one another, they had been all their lives. “We’re Elite. We’re superior stock.” His dark hazelnut eyes softly looked over her body, he couldn’t help but think of the image that she had just hidden from him. “We’re thoroughbreds.” Taking a step deeper into the room, Theo allowed his bag to fall to the floor before placing his hands into the front pockets of his dark jeans. “Which begs the question, why you, Trixie Kingsley, would allow for something like that to happen?” He pointed with his gaze to the dirty top she had dropped onto the floor. “How could you even let them get that close?”

Theo leaned back against the door, his broad muscular frame blocking it almost in its entirety. Some would consider him pound for pound the strong boy at BHHS, there was a reason TVC was the highest touted linebacker in the country. He was built like an army tank with a Ferrari engine. “I say this because I love you Bea but I think you might be losing your touch. They’re not scared of you anymore.”

Her lips pursed and her eyebrows furrowed the more he talked and invited himself in her space, like he was entitled to it. Standing her ground, not stepping back, even if she wanted to, Trixie coldly stared at her boy next door, getting increasingly angrier by the second. The more he talked, the more annoyed she got. Yet, behind that icy gaze, behind those beautiful, brown eyes of comforting childhood memories, there was hurt and fear of being vulnerable. There was confusion and bewilderment. There was love. Staying levelled, trying her best to not show her conflicted emotions, she admitted, “I don’t want them to be scared of me. That was never my intention, and you know that.”

Her mission was and always will be to continue her parents’ legacy and make sure Beverly Hills High had an environment that not only challenged herself and her peers but catered to everyone’s potential. She simply added her own twist to it. Be informed. Stay informed. Information was power. She wanted to be inspirational, not scary. Relatable, not out of touch. Resourceful, not vindictive. The only reason why she dived deep into journalism was because she liked knowing things, which avoided backdoor conversations, and she liked to keep her peers in the know so those like The Elite and the Hive Five couldn’t use information against them. Gossip and news go hand in hand. Today's gossip is tomorrow’s headline and she wanted to be the one with the story. Trixie swore to do her due diligence to not misinform her classmates and if she could, she’d be a shield, in her own way.

Jamie, however, was a bit more underhanded and perhaps she did let him get away with more than she probably should. The podcast didn’t help. It was their place to dive into their articles or share things they didn’t write about and she wasn’t going to lie… when she was with Jamie, she couldn’t help but be a little catty. That’s just how they’ve always been together but when she wrote, she came from a genuine and authentic place. She wasn’t here to ruin anyone. Her articles made her look good on paper and ultimately reached someone that would be grateful for the intel. Gossip was a tool to distract people from themselves, nothing more nothing less, and she wanted to be the one in the driving seat, steering that asset in the right direction.

Truth be told, Trixie didn’t know why she was even entertaining a conversation with her ex in the handicap bathroom but he cornered her like a predator corners his prey. The only way out was forward and right now he was barricading the door with his muscular physique. “Is this all you wanted? To tease me and say I’ve lost my touch?” She began to worry. Not because of the close proximity she was with Teddy but because of the rumours that could spiral if they were caught exiting the bathroom together. She thought she made herself clear. They both were not right for each other and they were kids when they decided to date. They should focus on themselves, getting themselves right and leaving any feelings they had for one another in the past. They had their careers to worry about. Not each other. As she hugged herself, she tightened her hold. She wanted to ask him: what do you want? But instead, she mumbled under her breath, “I love you too, Teddy…” Breaking eye contact with Theo, she waited for all this to be over so she could get to homeroom and forget how awful her morning was and continues to be.

“Come now, Bea…” Theo took another step into the room, his hands leaving his pockets as he did and placing them firmly onto Trixie’s shuddering arms. “You’re not scared of me, are you?” He asked rhetorically, knowing full well the answer. Everyone was scared of him, as they had every right to be. We’re told as children that monsters don’t exist and that much is true but what we’re not told is that people can be far worse than the things that go bump in the night. “You know teasing is my love language.” His fingers danced tenderly over the skin, feeling her warmth enter through their tips and directly into his body like a concentrated hit of a strong narcotic immediately into his bloodstream.

Their love, if you could even call it that, was barely a flash in the pan. Nine months of what Theo considered bliss. Then again he didn’t have much to compare it to at the time. All he had ever truly known was pressure, so much pressure. Trixie was meant to be the escape from that, she was supposed to be his emergency exit from the hell from which he was birthed and lived in every day. He remembered when his mother would smile and giggle when she would watch the two of them play house as children. The expectation that they would be together was not lost on him but that didn’t bother Theo too much because as far as he was concerned his feelings for Bea were real. At least until she tore out his heart and shredded it with her heel.

He smiled softly, sweetly even. Theo Van Cise’s blood ran colder than the snows of an Alaskan tundra but his face disarmed all that bore witness to him. He was pretty, round cheeked and did not possess a harsh face that would reflect the beast that had grown inside the pit of his stomach. “I just wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful today.” He took a piece of her dark hair between his fingertips and held it aloft between their faces. “I mean you always do, you know that, I don’t have to tell you.”

A gesture like this used to cloud her senses and make her melt. A gesture like this, and his gentle, musky scent, used to bring her to attention. A gesture like this used to get her to giggle in embarrassment and turn into a blushing bride. Things were different now and the somersaults happening inside of her was not because of innocent butterflies but out of anxiety and concern. Her dad taught her about the 333, to pull her out of this state. She was a lover, yes, but she was also a fighter. The 333. Name three things you see, three things you hear, and three parts of your body.

What did she see?

Theodore’s eyes. His hand that played with her hair. His smirk. That malicious smirk that pretended to be soft and kind. Theodore was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

What did she hear?

His breathing. Her breathing. The muttered noises outside the bathroom of their peers rushing to homeroom. She wasn’t alone with him, not really. Just out that door, there were people and if she wanted to, she could scream. She could make her location known. She could get away.

And three parts of her body?

Her hands.

Beatrix found herself letting go, no longer crossing her arms, and gently grabbing his hand, placing it on her cheek. She looked at him with empathy and regret. She still cared about him. That would never change.

Her chest.

Flirtatiously, she fluttered her eyelashes and made prolonged eye contact. Inching closer, Trixie gave him a nice view of her petite form. A body he used to embrace often. A body he wished he tasted. A body that wasn’t his. He had an even better view of her cleavage. She wanted him to. With her new top, there was plenty for him to see. With her face inches away from his, he could see her lips. Those lips he used to kiss.

“I like when you tell me things like that,” she whispered, using her femininity to her advantage. She might be a good girl but if she really wanted to, she could be bad… She was Beatrix Kingsley. She knew her worth.

Her knee.

In quick fashion, Trixie forcibly brought her knee to his groin, making sure she aimed right for the balls. With the fight response activated, she shoved her ex out of the way and decided her backpack and her dirty clothes were not as important as her safety. Operating under the impression that if she allowed their time together to last any longer, he would hurt her, she cursed, “Next time you do this shit, I’m getting a restraining order, asshole!” And she left the bathroom, leaving Theo to think about his actions. She didn’t stop until she found herself under the stairs by the back entrance, a place where kids smoked. When she noticed no one there, she dropped to the floor and observed her shaking hands. She wanted to cry. What the fuck is wrong with him? The Theo she knew would never do something like that, but that was the thing, wasn’t it?

He wasn’t the Theo she knew.

Teddy was dead. He was the Franchise. And that was entirely her fault.

“Fuck me…” she muttered, finding stability against the wall. She hugged her knees and buried her face, letting the fear pass her by. She needed to get her shit together. The last thing she wanted was someone to spread fake news or worse, tell people she was weak. Trixie wasn’t weak. She was a bad bitch and she was going to keep it that way. But first, she needed to compose herself so she can smile and act like what just happened, didn’t. Everything was going to be okay. She was okay.

She was okay.

Theo knelt on the floor in agony but he was smiling, by God he was smiling. This was her chance, he wanted to give it to her out of the goodness of his heart. She could’ve saved it all if she had just let herself feel what she wanted to feel but typical Bea, stubborn to the last. Now everything was going to burn and it was all her fault. Pulling himself back up to his feet using the nearby sink, Theo’s eyes shifted to the pile of clothes and the bag she had left behind. They were the perfect representation of what had occurred to his Bea. She had shed her skin and transformed, though through her chrysalis she had not become a butterfly. No, she had become something else entirely.

She was one of them.

As his grip on the sink tightened, Theo could feel it begin to peel away from the wall. If he wanted to he could rip it straight out and throw it around as if it was nothing, it was within his power to do so. Yet he chose not to. Appearances, as they say, were everything and he was the Franchise. It was time to put his game face on. Gathering himself with a deep breath, Theo picked up his own bag and slung it back over his shoulder before grabbing Trixie’s things and bundling them up together. He exited the bathroom and grabbed a freshman by the shoulder. “Hey, get these cleaned up and make sure they get to Trixie Kingsley, ok?” He pushed the items into the pizza faced lads hand and pulled him an inch closer. “If you don’t, I’m gonna break your jaw. Run along, get out of here. Shooo.”

Pushing the child away, Theo surveyed the chaos around him. He gave her a chance; now someone else would have to deal with it, with him. And he had the perfect person in mind.

He couldn’t wait for Homeroom.

As Jamie strutted away from the media wing and towards what was becoming a regular morning rendezvous, he did his best to give off an air of importance and urgency. He was a co-editor on the school paper, the source of all things salacious and scandalizing, and he wanted people to think of him as such. He was secrets, he was shame, he’d do his best to bury your name; they might as well just call him Mr. Beverly Hills. He wanted anyone who tried to read his face to assume he was going through a very long, very important to-do list. In a sense, he was.

When he’d texted AJ a few weeks ago, after dumping him in exchange for a senior year full of solitude and sad movies, Katie had called him an idiot. “Why the fuck did you guys even break up if you were just gonna pull this shit?” were the exact words he remembered, actually. She wasn’t wrong. This was messy, whatever this was. At this point, the boy who was supposed to know everything, pretty much only knew two things to be true: dating AJ Tyler had made him feel like the most boring person on the face of the Earth, but fucking him had made him feel like the most exciting.

So yeah, he was playing a game that would probably get him and AJ hurt. Sue him. Everybody else in this school had a good time, he should know, he reported on it. Why couldn’t he?

The baseball shed (what Jamie had lovingly nicknamed, The Place Virginities Go to Die) was far enough away from the school and unused enough in the fall that they were rarely bothered. Jamie could see AJ as he approached, leaning against the wall with a Starbucks bag and the same devil-may-care smile that had been so intoxicating the first day they’d met. “You know me well, Tyler,” Jamie said, smiling as he sidled up to AJ and took the bag and a cup from his hand. “You get all the boys breakfast, or just the cute ones?” Jamie said, smirking as he unwrapped his breakfast sandwich.

“Neither. I get you breakfast because who else is going to know your order to the T, Trouble?” AJ coolly responded, lightly smoothing a piece of flyaway hair on Jamie’s head. As his ex schmoozed his way into his heart, like he always did, the taller boy of the two stared attentively. His charming eyes were dilated but hidden by his Ray Ban sunglasses. His gaze, if it could be seen behind the veil went from caramel to cocoa, from warm to eager, from sandwich to Jamie’s smirk. He smiled wildly, amused at how quick his former lover reported to him. It was almost as if they were dating. It was almost as if nothing changed between them. As if Jamie didn’t break him and now continues to string him along. It was almost as if Jamie cared. “One bacon gouda, heated for an extra twenty seconds, venti white mocha, and a birthday cake pop.”

AJ wasn’t blind. A fool, sure, for love. A hopeless romantic, yeah, because his parents were living the dream and he aspired to find someone to fit him like a missing puzzle piece, just like the love they shared. A dreamer, of course, because life was meant to make dreams a reality but blind? No. The rose colored glasses were off and he could see Jamie for what he was and it frustrated him to no end. It made him have a storm of emotions, from anger to sadness to even regret. If they never dated, AJ would not feel such low lows. If they never dated, AJ could be in ignorant bliss and not know what it feels to really, deeply love someone, to the point that you hand them a knife and expose your heart to getting stabbed, so many times. If they never dated, AJ would have room to think about anything else. But here he was, stuck in a repetitive, unhealthy cycle, in denial of their end, praying for a new beginning. Ideally, with Jamie at his side.

Truthfully, he hated what they became. He hated how he felt most days. He hated that he had to keep what they have a secret. He hated this. Especially recently when their affair escalated, both sexting at random times of the day and meeting up for quickies. Now, his nights were being impacted and he was unable to sleep. He was staying up all night thinking about their next meeting, like some sort of drug. It was intoxicating but not in a good way.

Jamie was given the world, which included AJ bringing him breakfast, and doing other boyfriend things. All he asked of him was to keep their situationship on the down low and to not put the pressure of a label on what they have. Not only does this allow Jamie to have other lovers in his life but it allows him to only gain and never lose. Feel no pain. At least not to the extent that AJ felt pain. He fucking hated this and needed to call quits. Not because he wanted to but because he had to. AJ knew he wasn’t doing okay and it was only a matter of time when his friends would intervene and stir more drama than needed.

It was all fun and games and part of AJ hoped there would be a chance they’d get back together but the moment Jamie said he didn’t want to define what they were, what they have, that’s when AJ began to fall down, down, down into his dark place. Nothing he could say or do would ever change Jamie’s mind. His first love made up his mind. Jamie didn’t love him. He loved how AJ made him feel. But AJ himself? Yeah right. Why would he love someone like him? Jamie had made it clear that they had nothing in common and perhaps Jamie was right. Jamie thought he knew best and AJ knew it was time to give him exactly what he wanted. The reality of them finally moving on. It was senior year and he wanted to make this a good year. For both of them.

With sleep deprivation as his drive, AJ made an executive decision that it was time to have a necessary meeting. Prior to coming here, to their ‘special’ place, the Gearhead gave himself a pick me up and was more ready now than ever. He was confident in his ability of setting things straight and making boundaries known. Most importantly though? He was locked the fuck in, with nothing but positivity and growth on his mind. Whatever came from this would be nothing but good for each person involved. It was the only way for either of them to be happy. Building distance between him and the gossip boy, AJ glanced at his watch, counting the seconds to when the first bell would go off, and leaned against the shed, relaxed and ardent, “So! How’s your morning been?!” He nearly shouted.

Jamie grinned and took a bite of his breakfast, eyes traveling up and down AJ’s form. There was something…off, about him, but he couldn’t quite place it. A nervous energy that he didn’t understand. For a moment, something tugged inside him, and he almost asked, and then he reminded himself what this was. What he had asked for it to be. “It’s been fine. Mom and Dad are still out of town. I finished that article I was telling you about, the one about funding disparities between arts and sports programs? No one will read it, but it’ll look good in the portfolio. Let’s see, one of the freshmen spilled her coffee on Trixie, and–OH! Ethan’s throwing a party tomorrow night, after the dance. Risky Business themed, whatever the fuck that means. I’m supposed to be spreading the word.”

He stepped forward, oblivious to the distance AJ had so purposefully put between them. He set his coffee on the ground and let a hand come up to play with AJ’s hair, doing his best impression of someone who was confident, cool, and did not overthink every single thing he did. “How was yours?”

When Jamie breached AJ’s space, the Gearhead thought to himself. One last kiss wouldn’t hurt. Instead of answering the question, he brought his hand to his lover’s chin and lifted it. Leaning in, his lips pressed roughly on Jamie’s. It was full of yearning, hunger and desire, like it always did, but there was something more to it. AJ’s freehand slid around Jamie’s waist and pulled him close, not caring that the sandwich could interfere with their intimate moment. He was desperate and it could all be felt in one single kiss. AJ knew, if he kept to his word, this could be their last. If he stood firm and didn’t give into this want, this feverish dream, he would be in control and what they have would be all in the past. What they have would be a wonderful memory and they’d stop doing things they’d regret. If he pulled back, maybe he could move on. Maybe he could get over Jamie Callaghan.

He breathed in Jamie’s scent, wishing he wasn’t taking the rational route but knowing sometimes the right things weren't the easiest things to do. He pulled away. A moment of silence passed between the two and uncomfortably, AJ gently pushed his ex a short distance further away, so he could think straight. Rather than acknowledge anything Jamie said about his article, about the coffee incident, and about the party, he revealed his true intentions for meeting at their spot, in the early morning, for breakfast, “This has to stop. Me and you? All of this, Jamie? Needs to stop.” This might be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do in his life but if there was one thing AJ didn’t want to do anymore it was worry his friends. His high would carry him through this and truth be told, he was thinking more clear than he ever would while sober.

Jamie blinked. The confidence he’d possessed only moments ago seemed to fade immediately, leaving his head spinning and his heart racing. “What the fuck?” He took another step back, knocking his coffee over as he did. This wasn’t happening. He had done so much work to keep this from happening. He had built walls, and drew boundaries, he had kept AJ at an arm's length so that it wouldn’t happen. He had dumped him first, for fuck’s sake.

Now he was right where he’d always feared he would end up, when Katie had introduced them last year. Getting left behind by AJ Motherfucking Tyler.

“That’s fucking…did you just bring me out here to wine and dine me before you…oh my God. Oh my God.” Jamie spun around, ran a hand through his hair, and took a breath while he processed this sudden blow. When he turned around, whatever rage had been spilling out from him was tamped down, present only in the deep blue eyes that had begun glaring at AJ. “Why? Where is this coming from? I thought…I thought this was good,” Jamie said, uncertainty creeping into his voice. He didn’t want to lose this, lose AJ. He had thought he could make it all work, that this way would be better for the both of them and…God, he had been an idiot.

His heart rate escalated. This was all so frustrating and if he didn’t make things clear now, Jamie would continue his own self destructive patterns and unfortunately the one that got burned was AJ. “Good for you. This has always been good for you,” AJ snapped, unable to keep it in anymore. He tried this casual on-and-off relationship and it just made him hate himself because he knew when he saw Jamie he didn’t want casual. He wanted commitment, love, and a future together. He wanted Jamie to be his. “I’ve played this game, Jamie, we’re doing this dance, but what the fuck are we?”

Clenching his fists, AJ, his eyes still hidden by sunglasses, stepped forward and watched the boy he loved break in an anxious panic. “I. Can’t. Do. This. Anymore. You’re the one that fucking broke up with me and then weeks later you call saying you miss me but yeah, fuck me right? I’m the one at fault? Honestly. We both could use an actual break and you need to figure out what you want because clearly it isn’t me, Jamie, and I’m sick and tired of you lying to my face like you give a damn.” That last part forced AJ to stop and breathe. His behavior was getting increasingly erratic. Awake and wired, not letting the sadness bring him down, he brushed away the disappointment in Jamie’s face and focused on himself. How could he have fallen so far?

Jamie pursed his lips. A laundry list of responses ran through his brain, but he settled for, “Fuck you.” He turned to leave, took five steps before he decided he had more to say, and spun around to look at AJ. “Pro tip, next time you dump your fuckbuddy, don’t make out with him right before you do it.” With an embarrassed huff, Jamie turned to leave for good, storming back towards the school. Coffee spilled, breakfast ruined.

“Like you are qualified to give advice on breakups,” AJ barked and when Jamie turned on his heel, walking away, he felt a sudden urge. Letting his impulse take over, he rushed to his ex, grabbed his shoulders and forcibly turned him back around, “Don’t give me that shit. If I didn’t care, you wouldn’t want to be fuck buddies. You want me? Fine.” With the high taking over, he tightened his grip. With ease, he twisted Jamie around him and shoved the boy against the shed wall. “This is what you want right?” He hissed. There was no love behind his tone, only frustration and spite. He nipped at Jamie’s neck, digging his teeth, and creating a hickey. Intentionally, he made it painful. He had to leave his mark. “Fine. I’ll fuck you.” He angrily growled.

“AJ, what the fuck,” Jamie shouted, shoving AJ back and ducking under his arm. He stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. He’d seen AJ angry plenty of times. They tended to have that effect on eachother. But nothing like that. That was new. His hand came up to rub at his neck while he shook his head, eyes trained on AJ. “Yeah, I’m the one who needs to figure my shit out?” he scoffed, and turned around again, doing his best to mask pain and uncertainty with a cold disdain. Doing his best to pretend like the boy he loved hadn’t just shattered his mental image of him in five seconds flat.

“For someone who is afraid of getting left behind you sure love running away!” AJ called out, hiding the shake behind his voice and the water in his eyes. This was for the best. He knew it and one day Jamie would thank him for this. Feeling his pocket, making sure he had his bag with him, AJ gave a sigh of relief. Not even watching Jamie leave, AJ turned the other way, heading the opposite direction, with one goal in mind. He needed another hit.

Homecoming is a funny word to those who never lived long enough in a place to truly call somewhere home. There’s not a chance to build any meaningful connection to the location beforehand, so there’s not a tearful goodbye to all the memories that were made. They are just another blip in the winding road that continues to unfold before someone on the cusp of adulthood.

And yet here Indy Adams was, forgoing her usual preferred colors of blue, green, and white, and donning the red and black that was asked of all the BHHS students ahead of their homecoming game and dance.

Naomi Davis was insistent that Indy had to comply with the color scheme, even if her options were limited. The dyed blonde managed to find a couple of things that worked together. A red tank top and light black bomber jacket gave her both school spirit options on the top half of her body. However, they had to cover the blushes of the denim shorts below, her tanned legs sculpted by the last year of running on the beach, surfing the waves and jumping for spikes also showing a little bit of red on the exposed skin. Indy didn’t have any black pairs of shorts, something that certainly would draw another trip to the Mermaid’s Closet on the Queen's orders to rectify that fact. The black onyx necklace swayed slightly with the turns, breaking up the solid crimson on her torso. It wasn’t one of her best outfits, but it was good enough to get her into Naomi’s car that morning and make sure that she didn’t have to take an Uber to school.

Indy was behind the passenger seat, the front seat in the clique’s ride already occupied as it usually was by the Hive’s second-in-command Levi Green-Locke. Lottie Quinn was in the back with her, offering a potential buffer to the last member of the crew to be given a lift this morning. Indy was still a bit unfamiliar with some of the sights along the route taken to school. In the ten months since she arrived back in California from Australia, she had plenty of time to memorize the vegan donut shops and hypodermic spas along the way, and yet they kept changing names and types as fast as she could get them down in her head. Nothing was permanent here. Even the Hive, as ironclad as it seemed, had an expiration date. Somehow she was along for the ride, literally in this case, but she knew something was going to break it apart.

That was a thought for another day. Indy shook her head a little bit. Her grey eyes scanned around the neighborhood, trying not to focus on those terminal feelings. Clearly, she needed some more time on the beach than she had been getting.

“So, since this is my first actual homecoming event, what is it all about?” Indy asked, trying to get some clarity on what exactly her role was going to be. “Is it all just an excuse to get people riled up in the autumn? Or is there some sort of deeper significance that I’m not aware of yet?”

Levi turned to face Indy, smiling like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. His outfit was on theme as well (duh du jour); dark red shirt, top two buttons undone, and black, tailored pants, cuffed at the ankle. “You’re cute. The deeper significance is remembering the Pirates who came before us. That, and getting everybody riled up in the middle of autumn.” He turned back to face the winding roads of Angel’s suburbs. “Everybody else gets to watch Naomi and I win homecoming court, and then we all get to watch the serfs get sloppy drunk. I wish I could take credit for it, honestly. Pure American genius, that one.”

Indy dropped a chuckle at Levi’s summation but there was a hint of nervousness behind it. Between Naomi’s desire for a spotless crew and the currently absent Angel’s pious nature, the alcohol culture she had embraced during her time Down Under had no chance to flourish on the Puritan American shores. It had been nine months since she had really cut loose and joined the masses in drunken reveling, but the pleasure of the punch had to be sacrificed to maintain her current position. This was the last chance for her to have anything resembling a high-school social life. Even if she was surprised Naomi had summoned her to be part of one of the most popular cliques in the school, she didn’t want to throw it away to be left hanging with the stoners and washouts in the parking lot. She nodded at Levi’s assessment. “Yup, that tracks with what I know.”

Lottie shifted in the backseat, smoothing down the red and black plaid skirt that she had chosen for the day. Despite Naomi's insistence on following the school colors, she had managed to bend the school rules ever so slightly by pairing the skirt with a tight, semi-sheer black turtleneck that clung to her figure. Over it was a cropped red blazer that narrowly avoided getting her dress-coded for said semi-sheer turtleneck. Her black knee-high boots with a stiletto heel completed the look, giving her a few extra inches of height.

Tossing her brown curls over one shoulder, she let out a soft giggle at Levi's response to Indy. "Hehe, he's not wrong! Homecoming is like, THE biggest event of the year at Beverly Hills High." Her grey-blue eyes sparkled with excitement and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "There's the big game of course, where we get to watch the boys kick some *serious* butt on the field."

She paused, pursing her glossy lips as she thought. "But the best part is definitely the dance afterwards. Everyone gets soo dressed up and we get to party all night long!" Lottie clasped her hands together, practically bouncing in her seat from the excitement of it all. It was likely thanks to the two caramel macchiatos she'd had since waking up. "Oh, and they always go all out decorating the gym too. Last year's theme was like, 'A Night in Paris' or something. They had this gorgeous Eiffel Tower set up and everything."

It wasn’t always the responsibility of Naomi Davis to drive herself and her most loyal subjects - dubbed the Hive Five, a name Naomi didn’t outright dislike but would be hard-pressed to say she loved - in fact, they often took turns so the ones with a car didn’t always have to act as chauffeur. Except, of course, when Lottie’s turn came up. Whenever Lottie was scheduled to be the driver, they always managed to convince her that, no, actually she didn’t have to be the one behind the wheel. A little white lie between friends never hurt when the alternative was having to endure a road trip where Lottie winds up on I-10 heading east and having to quickly turn back around before they wound up in Los Angeles for a day. The only constant with the carpool situation was that if Naomi wasn’t driving, then she was in the passenger seat. This was the rule, as consistent as gravity.

Even when Naomi wasn’t the one driving, she always had control of the music in the car and while she…entertained requests, it was never any surprise what was frequently playing from the speakers. Today was no different, though Naomi was kind enough to turn the current song to a reasonable volume so conversations could be heard, but from the way she was slowly grooving her head back, forth, side to side, it was clear that she was hardly interested in engaging in conversation while the song was playing.

Homecoming Week was vital for the Hive Five; it was important for Naomi that the five of them set a strong example when it came to school spirit for the week. That, of course, meant following the theme of each day to the letter. If that meant having to look like Annie fucking Oakley for a day, then that’s what they did. Yesterday had been Hippie Day and Naomi managed to make an outfit that looked as if Sharon Tate (or Margot Robbie’s take on her) had a fashion child with Foxxy Cleopatra, afro and all. Today was a bit more subdued in theme, school colors, and Naomi looked as if she was going to a Riot Grrl concert after school. Black leather jacket under which was a black halter neck crop top to offer the rubes just the barest hint of her navel, a plaid black and red miniskirt like she was a Catholic school girl gone bad, and sheer leggings because Naomi knew that her legs were money makers and deserved as much focus as possible. Her father had said the jacket made her look like, quote, “someone who listens to Melissa Etheridge” and when Naomi didn’t know who that was, the clarification was a four-letter word and Naomi got the message loud and clear.

She put it on when she got to the car, out of sight of her father.

The song came to an end as Naomi continued along the suburban route towards the fifth member of the Hive’s home. She checked the rearview mirror, ostensibly because it was safe driving to regularly check, but also to subtly click her mouth at Indy’s denim shorts. Sure, the upper half was fine and she didn’t forbid Indy from getting in the car, but such a faux pas during Homecoming Week was going to be remembered, by Naomi if no one else. "You’re probably wondering what makes Homecoming more important than prom.” Naomi, of course, had no way of knowing what Indy was thinking - probably something about kangaroos or koalas - but what mattered is she had asked a question and was getting a proper education on Beverly Hills High School. "Prom is a big event, sure, but it’s only for juniors, seniors, and the odd underclassmen the weird students invite. But Homecoming is for the entire school and even alumni. The football game, the dance, the afterparty, it’s all very…vital to the social heartbeat that is our school. If you don’t go to the Homecoming Dance, you’re nobody. Even if you show up dateless, show up.” That wasn’t a suggestion. Not that anyone in the Hive ever had problems getting dates. Getting them to last was another question entirely.

"Which reminds me, Indy,” Though Naomi was speaking directly to Indy, her eyes were on the road as she inched the car ever closer to its destination, "I hope you’ll show up to the dance with a little more…enthusiasm in your wardrobe. Mermaid’s Closet is having a Homecoming sale for a reason. Just in case you were unaware.” As the car rolled to a stop, so too did the next song on Naomi’s playlist start to play as they waited for Angel.

“Shit…” That was going to be a whole other trip and a whole other dent in the bank account. Indy was never going to join the ranks of the car-owning Hive members if she kept handing over all her cash to the Closet. There was no way she was going to be able to wear last year’s prom outfit. Naomi would spot it in a second. There would be time, she supposed, in between the final bell and the game. Even if she didn’t have to be at the game itself, wondering why they kept stopping play all the time. Aussie Rules Football just had so much more action than American football, and they were more supportive of the women’s leagues too. The athlete in her appreciated that. Still, what was she going to find that was on theme for the dance? Shauna knew what the theme was, she had to. She was an alumnus. She’d have something set aside. It was going to be a pain in the ass keeping everything in her locker though.

“Of course, Naomi! I’ll be stunning!” Indy lied. “I mean, it’s one of the biggest dances of the year, like you said. I won’t let the Hive down. I just wanted to keep my options open in case someone proved themselves worthy of being my date! But, no one has, so c’est la vie.”

Turning her attention back to Indy in the backseat, Lottie playfully nudged her friend's shoulder. "Psh, don't worry about finding a date, Inds!" she reassured with a dismissive wave of her perfectly manicured hand. Her nails were painted a deep crimson red to match the school colors. "It's like, way more fun to go stag anyway. Then you can flirt with all the cute guys without being tied down!"

With her words of wisdom imparted on the floundering Floridian (ha, get it?!), Lottie resumed trying to figure out what the hell she was listening to. It was some kind of... jazz? The guy was crooning too much. She didn't know. Just sounded not so vibey for her, Lottie’s choice of tracks being closer to 00’s pop, but she would rather talk to Mo dressed as a disaster than ever telling Naomi Davis that she did not like her music choices.

Meanwhile, in the suburban cookie-cutter house the sedan had parked in front of, finishing her oatmeal, Evangely Vázquez dully stared ahead at the shelf of assortment prayer candles. They say the light of a candle represents the Christ who is the Light of the World. Prayers were requests for help, guidance or peace from God. It gave those who had faith belief that someone was listening but really, more often than not, prayers were never answered. They were achieved by your own work and efforts, and the righteous gave credit to God, because it was all in His plan. They believed and so it must be true, that the job they got, that the house they bought, that the break up they healed from, was all because they surrendered to God. He told them because of Him, the right doors would open at the right time, at the right place, when they needed it the most. All in which was part of His divine plan.

Her mother would say it is a great tower of strength, and when we pray, we grasp a force that can move mountains and save souls. Her mother would pray to their heavenly Father for serenity so she can let go of the things she cannot change, and gain the courage, the conviction, and the constancy to change that which she could. Her mother would say her father, who should be filled with guilt and remorse for committing adultery and washing his sins away with a bottle of top-shelf scotch, has been spared from all of that. They have been spared from all that because they were chosen. They were saved. Hell on Earth is only part of the journey that leads to crucial moments that bring them closer to their Savior. To their Lord. To Jesus Christ. God the Almighty.

You know what Angel would say to all that? That this was all horseshit and that the bible was the biggest con-artist that ever existed. The Bible, and Catholicism in general, tries to guilt you over trivial things, like lying or having sex, and blames you for your failure and that without belief you’re a fool. Without a cloud of judgment, without the fear of her tyrannical mother and narcissistic father, without the fear of being looked at wrongly for disagreeing, it was painfully obvious to see how impressionable religion could be, convincing the masses that if they trusted the Lord they would overcome sin.

Sighing heavily to herself, Angel grabbed her bowl and went straight to wash it and put it up in the dish rack. It was then when she heard a familiar honk. Once she was done wiping her hands with a small towel, she grabbed her brown leather backpack, threw it over her shoulder and shuffled to the door. As she slipped on her black loafers, her mother, still in her bathrobe, came marching downstairs. She turned around knowing exactly what to expect.

Silently, her mother, Maritza, examined her child, crossing her arms and hovering over her. Angel was incredibly short to most people, including her mother, who loved to assert her authority. Stoutly, Mari inquired, “I don’t like those friends of yours… they either dress whorish or homeless but that’s neither here nor there. When will you go back to taking the bus?”

“Right now it’s quicker to get to school with them and you’ve met them all, they are good people,” Angel replied with a monotone cadence, adjusting her straps.

“They are fake people. My friends tell me they don’t go to church, which means they lie to my face,” Mari complained, gritting her teeth in annoyance. She wasn’t dumb and she could tell there was nothing pure about the group of teens waiting outside.

Angel didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t talk back and she didn’t correct. All she did was tell her mother a half-truth to ease her troubled soul. The Hive Five weren’t religious. In that aspect, her mother was right, but as far as her mother was concerned, Angel had spread her ministry and converted even the most sinful souls. That should be enough to shut her up, for now. “Whether that’s true or not, it’s my job to bring the Word to everyone right? I’m doing just that and like I said before, they’re good people and want to embrace… perfection.” She opened the door from behind and gave her mom a small smile, “Trust me, they’re worth saving. Now.” Angel stepped back onto the front porch. “It’s almost time for you to get ready for work, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Not too late. Come home straight after the game,” her mother commanded. In response, Angel nodded and turned away from the woman of the house. She took in the morning, leaving her problems behind, breathing in the breeze and soaking up the sun. While her smile fell, Angel wasn’t one to smile often, her brown eyes glistened and every morning, whenever she stepped out of her house, she felt the one thing she desired the most. Freedom. With a delicate and graceful hand, she waved at her friends. One thing she knew for certain was her outfit was nightmarish and she knew she was going to get grilled.

As Angel stepped out from beyond the door, Indy had a front-row view and laid the first eyes on the outfit the Faith Forward leader had chosen for today. It was, as expected, extremely conservative given the family but it couldn’t hide those eyes, the first thing the world traveler remembered seeing when she first met Miss Vazquez in her homeroom class. Contrasting her silver pools, those deep brown eyes looked like caverns one could get lost in, and Indy was willing to not be found. However, she quickly learned the extracurricular activities that Angel participated in and the prospect of expanding on what she had experienced with Kai on the Bondi Beach sands was indeed as dim as those eyes were right now.

The outfit did give Indy hope that her faux pas with the deep navy denim shorts would be spared, but a new problem emerged. When Levi got hold of the family’s Bentley, seating wasn’t usually an issue. But Naomi’s sedan meant someone had to sit in the middle of the back seat. Being the tallest at 5’7”, Indy wasn’t an option, and Lottie was in her own world at the moment, so Angel, the smallest member of the Hive Five, usually got the role. For some reason, today it seemed more daunting than usual to have the girl Indy may or may not have a crush on, and who may or may not be the main reason she accepted Naomi’s offer to join the Hive, right next to her. But Naomi would suspect something if Lottie was forced into the middle. Anything that could potentially make the Hive tardy, especially on Homecoming Day, would not be acceptable.

“Shit. Well if God isn’t going to help me out of this, Allah, Buddha, Vishnu, one of you better pick up the slack here.”

Without Naomi needing to say a word, Indy returned the wave, unbuckled and hopped out of the back seat, keeping the door open for the arriving Angel. She could spot the mother Vazquez watching from the doorstep and knew that she had to play up the good Christian girl angle at the moment. Luckily given her time in Florida she had some practice. “Good morning, Angel,” the blonde offered. “What a glorious day the Lord has given us. Blessed be the fruit.”

“Good morning, Indy,” Angel locked her gaze with her friend, briefly, as if she was peering into her soul. She rolled her eyes in response. It wasn’t like her mother could hear them, but sure, why not. She could play her part. “God is good,” she asserted. “God is great.” Behind her tone was dry sarcasm and whether her friends knew it or not, most of the things Angel said about God were not said with conviction but as a joke.

For a moment, Angel’s stare did travel downward to the blue denim shorts and Indy’s long, smooth and tanned legs. She did think of a compliment that could make her friend feel good. Not many people could pull off short shorts like Indy did and not many girls could make sporty look hot, but Indy obviously could. That was part of why Naomi adopted her. She had potential. Making someone into your likeness, just how people tried to live life in the likeness of God, all started with potential.

Indy was a lost soul who was given a chance to join the fold and be like Naomi. She was beautiful and had a body the Hive could work with. Most importantly though? She wasn’t too involved with the school, which meant they could groom her properly. Train her to be a proper bee and fly high toward the heavens, with the best of the best. Crème de la crème. This was Indy’s chance to prove she wasn’t a coward and could kick it with the cool kids, dressed in class, never bothered and never harassed. As long as she did what she was told, she’d be able to escape the thunderdome. If it wasn’t for Levi, Angel wouldn’t be here but she wasn’t going to put a target on her back, so she’d play along. Pretending was the one skill she’s become the master at.

“That’s blue,” Angel curtly pointed out and slipped around her friend, nestling herself in the backseat between her and Lottie. “You don’t own any black bottoms?”

“Fuck, even Angel’s going to give me hell for the shorts? She’s dressed like a 50s librarian!”

Indy wanted to say that colors were dumb, that people should just be able to wear what they were most comfortable in, but that was certain to get her sent packing from the Hive. Naomi was very clear that coordination was an important part of what they did for the school. The fact that Indy couldn’t find any black shorts this morning nearly made her blow a gasket, but her mom didn’t have any either and she weighed what was worse in her mind: showing up with the deep blue shorts, or showing up in Walmart shorts. She made her choice, and now even her crush was making her pay for it.

Instead, she blushed and demured as she sat back down behind Levi and buckled back in. “I think my black shorts got lost in the move over from Australia,” she offered as a weak excuse. “I thought for sure I had a pair, but I couldn’t find them, and I didn’t want to wear pants with the bomber jacket, so I thought since I wore the light blue denim for Wild West day, it would be OK if I did this today, and I’m wrong, and I’m the worst, and I’m sorry.”

Levi shot a knowing glance towards Naomi, before glancing back to his reflection in the passenger side mirror. “Don’t be sorry, be better. It’s kind of the entire point of the color coordination.” He moved a stray strand of hair into place, always preoccupied with perfection. “It’s whatever, you’ll just take the picture we post at the end of the day.”

"We’re all aware that Indy’s shorts are unacceptable.” Naomi could have let it continue and part of her wanted to. People that were made an example of always learned how to avoid such a thing in the future; Indy may have been in the Hive but before they were Five, they were two: Naomi and Levi. Just because you were in the Hive didn’t guarantee you’d be there come graduation. Hell, come next week. But Naomi was nothing if not understanding; Indy had a strike on her record. Everyone got one. They rarely got two, let alone three. "But she’s going to make up for it, isn’t she.” It was clear in Naomi’s tone, her calm but cold, calculated tone as sharp as a chef’s knife, that she wasn’t asking a question. "Levi is right. When it comes to the group photo, Indy will just be on the end, from the waist up.”

"Angel, your effort is appreciated. If you need some pins to make yourself look less like someone from the Church of Latter Day Saints, speak up.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Angel voiced. “Don’t know if Indy is going to fit a small but… I have another skirt in my bag.” She paused and shrugged to herself, coming to a decision rather quickly, “I guess we won’t know until she tries it on.” And with that, Angel took her black plaid skirt out of her bag, placed her bag on the oblivious Lottie’s lap and started undressing her skirt, revealing her cheeky, silk white underwear. Unceremoniously, she tossed her skirt at Indy. “Try that on.”

Indy was stunned for a moment. Sharing clothes with Angel? It seemed like something she would do in a dream world where her crush didn't get her fashion tips from Mormon missionary catalogs. Granted her top was better suited to make the skirt work than the drab blouse her Hivemate had, but there wasn’t much time to think about that as Miss Vazquez quickly revealed where the virginal white was hiding in today’s outfit. “Uhhhh, right, yes…”

She unbuckled the shorts and slid them down, the sea green bikini cut now on display for the clique. It took every ounce of restraint she had built up in California to avoid getting more than a peek at Angel’s bare legs, like avoiding staring at an eclipse. She was liable to burn more than her retinas if she kept it up. Unzipping the skirt and sliding it over the flats and up her legs, the small size definitely wasn’t making it easy, but it ended up sitting just below where her shorts were on her thighs. “It’s going to be more like a mini skirt on me, but it will work. I have some Spanx in my locker I can wear underneath, so… are we good? Do I get to be in the picture again?”

Lottie watched with rapt attention as Angel revealed her white silk underwear, trying not to stare too obviously. She couldn't help feeling a twinge of envy at the other girl's lithe figure and the effortless way she carried herself, but that was a can of worms Lottie would not dare open in the vipers’ nest.

As Indy slid the black skirt up her long, tanned legs, Lottie let out an appreciative hum. "Mmm, looking good, Inds!" she purred, giving her friend an exaggerated wink. Her grey-blue eyes lingered a moment too long on the exposed skin above Indy's knees before snapping back up to meet her gaze. "That skirt is so cute on you, babe. It's giving, like, sexy school girl. No spanx. Embrace your inner slutty Britney!"

Lottie pulled out her phone once Indy and Angel were both appropriately dressed again, switching to Instagram to record a short story heralding the arrival of the Hive. "It’s Hive-o-clock bitches!! Let’s blow a kiss and serve some lewks~!" Lottie panned the camera around the car, recording regardless if her Honeys planned on indulging her or not. Not a problem—they were hot, they were (now) coordinating. They were ready to blow some Bevvy Hills minds.

From the outside looking in, the building looked rather dilapidated. At first glance it even looked more like a warehouse than anything, with no clear advertisement on the outer walls, and the sheet metal door sticking out like a sore thumb surrounded by the glam and glitz of downtown Beverly Hills High. It wasn’t always so bad, but without someone to watch over it for the past year or so, time was winning the battle. Paint needed to be reapplied, one of the windows was boarded up… it was a mess.

Faded advertisements were pasted on the building, proudly declaring it The 365 Combat Club. The club had stood for many years as one of many combat gyms in the LA area. There was nothing special about it. It didn’t have the newest equipment, it didn’t have the best trainers. It wasn’t like the 365 boasted a secret training technique to go from zero to hero; in fact, the old owner was quite fond of saying the only secret ingredients to success were hard work and dedication.

By the time he’d gotten old and frail, the only people left were those dedicated few. When the owner had passed, the 365 shuttered its doors and its fate was unknown for a while.

Until, almost overnight, the new owners arrived and made changes. Though the label on the gym door still said ‘The 365,’ the window and door both had new logos naming the place The Lyon’s Den and small text underneath saying ‘combat club and gym.’ Today was the first day of the gym’s second life, and to top it off, the new owner’s son was standing on a ladder balanced precariously against the wall of the warehouse building his family would now proudly call their second home.

With a hammer in one hand and banner in the other, Owen Lyon was trying to figure out the easiest way to get a nail from between his teeth and into the hole where he could hammer it in. This was the last thing he was expected to do until he could finally leave and go to school, something he was so excited for that it honestly disturbed him.

The truth was, he was basically his father’s prisoner. Before they had left their old town, Owen had gotten in trouble for being the centerpiece of a brawl at a sporting event. In his head, Owen counted it as a victory - he stood the tallest at the end, and that counted for something. He had hoped to sell his dad with that line, but his dad was just pissed he got in a fight outside of the gym. Again. And in public! Owen was lucky he was still allowed to drive himself around town, even if he had to drive his mom’s minivan.

He leaned his body up against the wall to hold up the banner as best he could. He took his free hand to grab one of the nails he held between his teeth and jammed it into the hole on the banner before he slammed it with his hammer. Bang! Bang! The ladder shook with each blow, and Owen found himself briefly concerned with falling off the ladder, and even more briefly he compared himself to a modern day Martin Luther. After all, the gym was basically his church.

Inside the gym, the sound of the hammer hitting the wall reverberated through the building. There were only two occupants, one laying in the center of the sparring ring near the middle of the gym, and one resting on a bench. On the bench, the man had his feet resting on a skateboard. His legs moved a million miles a minute, sliding side to side as he waited for something, anything to happen. When the hammering started, he jumped in his seat. “Christ!” He said, shaking his head as he looked across at his older brother - Owen’s father, Troy. “Are you sure he should be doing that alone?”

Troy sat up and shot his younger brother a scowling look. “You for real? Owen can hang a fuckin’ banner on his own. He’s damn near a grown man, but don’t tell Ky that.” He shook his head and grabbed the ropes to pull himself to his feet. “Why are you even here, Davy? Don’t you have anything better to do?” He asked, leaning on the ropes to peer down at Davy as the banging came to an end, and Owen’s work seemed to be complete. “For fuck’s sake, you have a toddler at home.”

Davy shrugged his shoulders. That was true, he did have a baby at home, but he felt like he needed to be with his brother and nephew, “Ely said it’s cool if I take a couple mornings to come here and make sure you and our little I.E.D. aren’t up to no good. Besides, if anything I get stressed with the baby. She’s so… small. I didn’t know they were that small!” He exclaimed, shaking his head.

“I don’t like when you call me that. I’m not even that explosive!” Owen had arrived on the scene, heading back inside to tell his father the deed was done before he went to school, but he’d caught the last part of what his uncle had said and felt a need to defend himself. Unfortunately, it was disastrous as both Davy and Troy burst into laughter. “I’M NOT. I’m not! I’ve never gotten mad or hit someone who didn’t deserve it! I just get angry sometimes. That’s messed up.” Owen frowned as he looked between the two older men, wanting one of them to say something, anything.

“I’m getting a beer. Owen, don’t go anywhere.” Troy finally said, hopping out of the ring. Owen seemed noticeably displeased with what he’d said, but didn’t protest and didn’t move either. Like a good soldier, Owen was awaiting orders.

On the other hand, Davy’s life wasn’t decided by Troy’s mood, and he was happy to poke the bear. “What are you talking about? A beer? Dude, it’s like 7 AM - HEY!” Davy was cut off of his words by Troy leaning down to snatch the joint he held between his fingers. Wagging a finger at his younger brother, Troy tutted.

“New dads shouldn’t be high. And what are you talking about? I’m a grown man with two grown ass kids, I can drink whenever I damn well fuckin’ please. You look like a hypocritical asshole, judging me for a beer with breakfast while you get ready to smoke a jay in the gym. Read the fucking rules. There are two rules.” Troy said, pointing toward the chalkboard hanging on the wall. In the corner, it had a message, written in the flowery printing of his wife.

Hello new gym people! Please make sure to follow these very important rules:

• no smoking
• no bitching whining

Thank you and we hope you enjoy your time here!

Davy shrugged. “Point made.”

“I wish she hadn’t put the thank you, but she’s pretty amped about the opening. So fuck off and follow my wife’s rules.” Troy pocketed the joint he’d snatched and then looked back at his son. For the time being, it seemed, he’d forgotten about the morning beer and was once again locked in on Owen. “Speaking of rules, Mr. Owen. I got some you need to follow. You’re going to BHHS now, and keeping it real? That place sucks. I wish you didn’t have to graduate from there, but I had to come back and save the gym before they declared it condemned.

I have some advice.”

“I don’t need advice. It’s fucking high school. I’m gonna keep my head down, finish up my last year, and then go to college. Wooooooooo, Chico State.” Owen said, mockingly lifting his arms up and flailing them around. “Maybe I’ll get a real job. Unlike Ruby.” Owen couldn’t help but smirk as he took the opportunity to dunk on his sister. It was especially sweet to do it when she wasn’t present to defend herself. Unfortunately for him, their father was.

“Rule number fuckin’ one! Don’t disrespect your sister in front of company -”

“This isn’t company. This is Davy.”

“Okay. Ouch.”

“RULE NUMBER TWO. Don’t interrupt me, boy wonder.” Troy said in a snippy voice, folding his arms over his chest. There were very few things in this world that annoyed Troy more than being interrupted, and unfortunately for Owen, disrespect for his daughter was up there too. He huffed and shook his head, before carrying on. “Look, son. I did my time at BHHS. It isn’t like normal schools, that’s why I told Kylie no when she suggested we move back here to be closer to family. That school? It breeds hate and drama. I don’t know what it is, but the four years I was there? Hell. Literal, actual, factual hell. I got involved in a drug war. I was seventeen. It’s probably the fuckin’ same old shit. First rule. Find Scott, and stick close to whoever he hangs out with.”

“Who’s Scott? Scott like, my cousin Scott? Dad, I only talk to him at Christmas parties.” Owen explained, shaking his head. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to be worried about. It was a school, and he only had a matter of months left anyway, then before anyone knew it, he’d be out and on his way. “Dude, you’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“No, no. Your dad has a point. It was weird for my time too - there was a beach party, and someone writing a LiveBlog about the school used it to try and succesfully! start a social war. Me? I was, uh, sixteen. Happy to say I was never implicated!” Davy beamed, as if there were something to be proud of in his statement. “The Weekend Warrior, it was called. Or something like that? It’s probably still up.”

“Always something with that fuckin’ place. You better not get involved in no drug wars, no social wars, and no goddamn fights. Don’t associate with anyone named Green, they’re probably evil. Especially the women - not sexist, it’s just the truth - some of the guys are okay. Henry and I used to drink. Stick to people you know. Find Scott, and stick to him. Listen, Owen. This has gotta go well, I don’t wanna hear nothin’ about no fights, no spunky scraps, no women -” “Something tells me that won’t be a problem.” “ - What did I just say about interrupting me? Fine, you don’t wanna go hang out with Scott? Fine. Whatever.” Owen shrugged and Troy sighed, trying to remember where he was. “Forget it. The most important rule, the number one rule of BHHS, is simple. DTA. Don’t. Trust. Anybody. Snakes in the grass, the lot of ‘em. I don’t even want to be here as a fuckin’ adult, but they wanted to condemn the gym. My gym. Fuck that!” Feeling himself get on a tangent, Troy paused and took a breath to halt it before he looked back at Owen.

“Understood?” Owen nodded and Troy stepped forward to stand in front of his son. Thinking the situation was a little dicey, Owen visibly tensed up. It wasn’t unlike his father to go for a takedown as a test, and he needed to be prepared. He flinched as Troy lifted up a hand… and then lazily brought it down on his left shoulder, then up over his head and onto his right shoulder. “Good. Then I absolve you of your sins.”

“Does that… did I sin? What are you talking about? Am I an Avenger now?” Owen asked his father. Before his father could respond, a chuckle came from his uncle, and Owen turned his attention in that direction.

“It means you’re not in trouble anymore, little dude.”

“Davy’s right. Go be a kid. Oh, I’m gonna need the minivan today, so…” Troy dug around in his pocket and fished out the key to his beloved car, which he tossed to Owen. Owen watched it sail through the air, and found himself too stunned to catch it. “You can take mine. Jesus, Owen. What is wrong with you? When my dad said I could drive his car? I was amped.” Troy shook his head, but Owen’s brain was still running a million miles a minute just to try and keep up with the situation.

“So, let me get this straight… I’m free, and I get your car?” Owen asked, and Troy nodded. Owen frowned. There must have been a catch. One he didn’t see, or something like that. There was something his dad wanted from him, he knew that much… it was just figuring it out what it was. “What’s the deal?” He asked, and Troy just shrugged.

“There isn’t one. I was too harsh, and you did a good job setting up around here. Keep it under 10k, don’t lose my CDs. It doesn’t have bluetooth, so deal with it. You show up to BHHS in a minivan and you’re going to get roasted before you even have a chance.” Troy explained, watching as Owen turned to walk away. “Be back here by six at the latest. You’re working with the beginners, got it?” He asked, and when a thumb was thrown into the air by his son who stepped out of the building, Troy sighed. He looked at Davy and spoke in a stern tone. “You have no idea how lucky you are. They’re so much easier when they’re small.”

“I feel like all she does is sleep and poop?”

“You know how much easier my life would be if the I.E.D. did nothing but sleep and shit?”

“Okay, once again. Point taken.”

Owen slipped out of the gym, stepping underneath the banner he’d spent his morning hanging up above the entryway. With bright red paint and his mother’s tell-tale writing, it practically shouted its message to the streets:


Outside of the gym, Owen was sliding behind the wheel of his dad’s car for the first time. As he sank into the leather seat and put his hands on the wide steering wheel, Owen found himself wondering if he was truly ready for this kind of responsibility. He put the key in the ignition and turned it, with the car immediately roaring to life in response as the stereo blasted the music his dad listened to.

He revved the engine for a moment, and then shifted it into gear. He pulled out of the gym, and was on his way. He couldn’t help himself but smile as he drove down the streets and toward the new high school, his phone guiding him along the way. He was a new man! Free from the baggage of fighting all the time at school, free from the warden’s judgment, and most of all… well, he would have been lying if he said he didn’t like the car he was driving now.

By the time the next song had ended, Owen had found his way to the parking lot of the school and slid his car into a parking slot alongside a red car, in line with… a lot of other fancy looking vehicles. He considered for a second that he should park somewhere else - it seemed like this was a place where the car people gathered, but then ultimately decided he didn’t care and killed the engine.

Owen Lyon was finally here.

“We’re gonna be late.”

“We ain’t gonna be late, calm your fuckin’ tits-”

“You’re the only one that cares if we’re late anyway-”

“I care!”

“...I stand corrected.”

The daily morning banter between the four teens on the two motorcycles rang through all of their headsets with minimal crackling and interference as they sped down the highway, filtering between cars and taking off like a shot as soon as there was empty road ahead. Monarch, who was vindicated in her worry by little Danny Boaz, gripped tighter around Sin’s middle in victory since the other girl couldn’t see her grin. When it came to the four transfers from Gravette, Oregon, if Danny put his foot down about something they very easily listened, so having him in your corner basically gave you a win in whatever argument was taking place. Decky sped up while grumbling incoherently into the headset, creating a gap between the two bikes, and Sin very easily picked up speed to catch up, the two of them once again weaving in and out of traffic like a synchronized dance.

They pulled off the freeway and up to a stoplight, the two operating the bikes taking the brief reprieve to shake out their hands and crack their fingers before the light turned green and they were off again, taking a right onto the main road to the school.

“Don’t forget I’m helping the Homecoming committee break down everything from the rally after school, so I won’t be meetin’ up with y’all,” Monarch reminded as they pulled into the parking spot they used for both bikes, waiting until Sin gave the nod to hop off of the back and remove her helmet. She quickly got to work unclasping and removing her ponytail wrap and letting her braids fall loose around her jacketed shoulders. Beneath the leather jacket that she removed next was her outfit for today’s theme, a lacy red mini tank with a sash tying it off at her waist above low rise black jeans. Not her usual style for school, but she was feeling a little extra playful today and her older sister Empress wouldn’t stop hyping her up after barging into her room this morning, so today it was less comfy cardigans and more what she tends to wear when going out.

Little Danny bounded over to her from where he’d just hopped off the back of his older brother’s bike, and with a soft smile she dutifully helped him undo his helmet clasp and took the protection off of him, tossing it it to Decky who had only just looked over. Monarch tousled Danny’s curls to help him bring back some of their volume after being crushed by the helmet while the older boy fumbled with the sudden object in his grasp before he finally got his grip on it, causing his friends and little brother to laugh at his plight. Decky locked their helmets onto his bike and then the Boaz brothers unzipped their jackets at the same time to reveal a matching colored collared button up for the older and a basic sweater over his button up for the younger, but Monarch had to at least give them credit for joining in on spirit week at all.

“I can stick behind if you need,” Sin offered the other girl, shaking out her own hair and grabbing Monarch’s helmet off of her. When they were also secured, Sin took her own jacket off to reveal that she’d leaned almost entirely towards the black end of the theme, with nothing but a bit of her red bra strap peeking out from under the plain black tank to show she was playing along. “I got nothin’ else to do today aside from homework.”

“If you're gonna wait around then you might as well help, Sin,” Monarch countered with her hands on her hips. “More hands make for less work.”

“Yeah, Sin,” Decky mocked. “Put that free time ta good use.”

“And why can't you help too?” Monarch asked, turning to him with a raised eyebrow. “You love demolishin’ things. Use your passion to help your school.”

“The fuck would I do that for? Destroyin’ shit and breakin’ down props for a school function are nowhere near the same thing and ya know it, don't try and guilt me,” the older boy responded immediately, rolling his eyes. Monarch liked to try every now and then to get her friends involved in the school, but now that they were seniors it's become more of a teasing point between them all than her thinking she could actually convince them. “I got work after school, and I got Danny ridin’ back with me anyway so it wouldn't make no damn sense for me ta stay.”

“Fine,” Monarch huffed good naturedly. “Have your logic and reasons.”

“I will, thanks.”

“So…am I stayin’ after or no?” Sin asked when they’d finished, still having not gotten a straight answer.

“Are you gonna help break down?”

“Are you gonna do my science homework for me to make up for the lost time?”

“No.”

“Then you’ve got your answer too baby girl,” Sin answered, throwing her arm around Monarch’s shoulders at the same time Decky took Danny under his own. “You can text me and I’ll come back for you, though," Monarch rolled her eyes and adjusted her glasses on her face, not surprised Sin would choose multiple trips over doing things for the school for free. "Anyway let’s go, I wanna smoke before homeroom and we’re quickly runnin’ outta time. Decky gimme a- hey!” She turned her gaze from the shorter girl to the boys, but they were already halfway across the parking lot with Decky’s middle finger raised high in response to her call. Danny was desperately trying to pull his older brother’s arm down and out of sight, but the younger boy was failing miserably while his brother continued to wave goodbye with a single fingered salute. “Jackass! I was gonna steal a blunt!”

“I know, that’s why I left!” Decky called back over his shoulder, finally dropping his arm while he and Danny made their way to the front of the school. While the girls were going to be heading to the back before homeroom, Decky’s focus was on getting his little brother to his homeroom first.

“I can walk myself if ya wanna go with ‘em, Decky,” Danny assured as they reached the front doors, head craning to follow the girls’ quick path towards the back before his view was cut off by the building. “Ya don’t really gotta protect me in the halls-” Decky pulled his little brother in closer to him seconds before the smaller boy was almost elbowed in the face by a taller kid throwing his backpack over his shoulder, and simply looked down at Danny with a raised eyebrow. “Well that wasn’t fair, I was distracted.”

“You’re always distracted, kiddo,” The older boy responded, ruffling his little brother’s hair with the same hand as the arm around his shoulder. Danny hadn’t mentioned anything about walking himself to class before, so Decky was curious as to the reason. “What’s this all the sudden? Are ya embarrassed that I walk ya ta class?”

“No! ‘Course not, it’s just that ya didn’t even get ta smoke or anythin’ this mornin’ an-”

“Hey, I’m fine,” Decky cut in, looking around at the faces they passed to make sure they were still in their own little bubbles. Decky’s habits were no secret in these halls, but he didn’t need the school’s eyes and ears latching on to anything his brother said and skewing it for the sake of the rumor mill. Compared to before they moved out to BH, Decky was practically sober. During school hours, at least…when it came to the harder shit, at least. Look. He was better, ok? “If I need ta chill I’ll just slide outta class for a minute. Don’t go worryin’ ‘bout shit like that, it ain’t your problem.”

“...Okay, sorry,” Danny responded as they came up to his homeroom.

“And stop apologizin’ for carin’,” He added with a soft smile at his little brother as he gave him a light shove towards the doorway. With a responding grin and an enthusiastic wave, little Danny disappeared inside and Decky turned on his heel to head to his own homeroom, already planning his first chance to slip out for as long as he could get away with.

In typical Jordyn fashion, she was the last of the Jones to wake up. In sudden urgency she stirred awake and jolted into a sitting position, her curly hair going every which way. Wiping the drool off her face, she checked her bedside where her alarm was. When she saw the time, her eyes widened, “Oh no!” Rushing off her bed, she began her morning routine and complained out loud, “Thanks for waking me up!” Stopping in the hallway, she called out, “DJ? PJ? Addie? Dally? MOMS?!” At that moment, Jordyn Jones realized she was home alone and everyone LEFT.

Priority number one. Feed the kids. Going back to her room she said good morning to all her pets and gave them their breakfast. As she went to each cage, she debated who would be the lucky one to go on a field trip. Jigz went last week and she wasn’t easy to hide so unfortunately, Jiggy Wigz would stay home. Jarvis was asleep and it would be rude of her to wake him. That gave her three options. Big Cheese, Master Splinter, or Hamtaro. After she gave each rodent their balanced diet meal, she thought about the day ahead of her and realized she needed to pick the pet with the most spirit but also wouldn’t panic with such a rowdy crowd. The choice was obvious.

Of course, first, her babies needed to eat and she needed to take a five minute shower and throw some clothes on. She might be late for homeroom but it was a risk she was willing to take. Putting a bonnet on, she stripped and rushed into the bathroom. “Alexa play wake up playlist.” The song that blasted in the bathroom speakers was Pina Colada Boy by Techno, the Candy Crew Remix. As she showered she swayed to the music, going side to side, covering her whole body with soap and brushing her teeth. Multitasking! Gotta’ go fast. Five minutes passed and the bathroom door flew open, steam rushing out and JJ in her Dragonball bathrobe. If she didn’t leave the house in ten minutes, she was definitely going to get detention, again!

The battle began where she threw her clothes out of her dresser, not bothering with her dresses in the closet, and decided on a black shirt, jeans, and black converse. There was no point in stressing about the details and getting both black and red in her ensemble; spirit week wasn’t THAT deep. Plus, red could easily be applied to the lips. After doing light make up on her eyes, to give her LIFE, she realized she did not have red lipstick. The person with the best make up was her step sister, Adelaide, so she knew where she needed to go.

Unceremoniously, JJ invited herself into the botanist-in-the-making’s room, crashing into the door before opening it. Suddenly, she felt like she was actually at a rave with the music coming out of her phone and all the colors of the rainbow from her sister’s room. The LED lights were definitely a vibe. What made this rave unique was all the plants that made this room more of a jungle (you could get lost in it!), which was honestly Addie’s element. Plant mama. Going to Addie’s vanity JJ skimmed through the selection of lipsticks she had, there were many, before finding the perfect red. She looked at the mirror, applied, and smiled at herself. GORGEOUS. With the same lipstick, she left a message for her sister on her mirror: thanks for the pop! -JJ

She was what they called absolute perfection. As she rocked, skipped and pirouetted back to her room, all while putting her hair up in a cute, messy bun, she went to the chosen one and opened the door to freedom. “Big Cheese. Since PJ absolutely traumatized you, I decided you deserve a treat. You’re coming with mommy.” And with that, JJ was dressed for her day. Putting headphones on, so the party kept going but now just for her rather than the whole house, she exited stage left to get to school on her Hip-Pea.

Parking her moped by the bikes, she looked at the barren lands, no classmate to be seen since they were inside heading to homeroom. Oh man. Her mom, the one she came out of, was going to be PISSED. Securing her moped with her chain lock, because her mom always told her to play it safe, JJ was standing tall and staring at the even taller building (she wasn't even that tall) that was her school. Opening up her tote, she smiled to see Big Cheese straight up chillen. Taking him out, she held him with both hands and reintroduced him to her school, since he hadn’t been there in weeks. It was then when she saw Jamie Callaghan off at the distance coming from a path less taken, that led to… the murder shed or something… and he looked distraught.

Looking at Big Cheese, she sighed, “He doesn’t look okay. What? You think I should check on him?” The mouse didn’t say anything in return, just stared at his mother with big, beady eyes. “Remember that time, sophomore year, I talked to Jamie for gym? He didn’t even notice I took a ball for him! Dodgeball is ruthless and should be canceled.” Her eyes softened as she stared at her eldest and nodded. “You’re right though. I need to be a good egg-xample. Bleh. Fine, you’re right. Man, why are you such a softie, Biggie? I could only aspire to love like you. Okay, okay, let’s go.” Together, JJ and BG found their way walking off the sidewalk, on grass and to the gravel path that led to the unknown and she approached Jamie, with mouse in hand. “Hey… are you okay?”

“Christ, JJ” Jamie jumped as JJ pierced through his veil of silence. His hands were still shaky, rubbing at the mark on his neck, face flushed red. “I am…fine. I will be, at least,” he said, cautious. He knew of JJ, or more accurately, he knew her sister. He really didn’t need his business getting back to the media wing, in any capacity. Jamie didn’t get to where he was by handing his secrets out for free. He took a breath and eyed the girl and her rat. “What’s that one’s name?”

“Oh this guy? This is Big Cheese. He’s my old man; had him the longest.” Jordyn explained, pride written all over her face. Bringing her hands out, she smiled and offered, “Want to hold him?” The girl wasn’t naive, she could tell her peer wasn’t okay and based on quick observation, she had a good guess it dealt with the mark on his neck. “He doesn’t bite, scouts honor,” she assured. Still, it wasn’t her place to pry. “Seriously, he’s soft as heck.” Gently, she ran the back of her pointer finger on the mouse’s back, going down his spine, casually and with ease.

After four years, Jamie had grown used to JJ’s revolving door of rodents, but that did not mean he had any desire to touch them. Especially not the ones with creepy, little tails. He looked down at Big Cheese with a look that was equal parts uncomfortable and grossed out. “I’ll take your word for it,” he said, grimacing at the mouse as though it might grow wings and fly at him.

He was saved by the ding of the school’s warning bell, signalling their time to get to class was running out. Jamie looked down at his watch and let out an annoyed sigh. AJ was not going to make him late to class. “Walk with me JJ, I can tell Belmonte that we were doing something for the paper.” Never let it be said that Jamie Callaghan didn’t perform charity. He gripped his bag tighter, and sent one longing look back at the baseball shed before turning back to the main building. “Speaking of Belmonte, how does she feel about Big Cheese?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at the girl as he stepped towards BHHS.

“As far as she’s concerned, Big Cheese is not here,” JJ whispered in response, slipping her mouse back in her tote. There was no way she’d get sent to the office. Not today, Satan. Walking beside Jamie, JJ thought of something to talk about. It wasn’t everyday she got to chat with one of the editors in charge of the Pirate’s Hook. The iconic duo of Trixie and Jamie were known in all grades, competing with the likes of the Hive and the Elite. They knew how to find out things, and bridge rapport with people who were even better at it, like Monarch. They had a network of people and with that they used it as a shield or a dagger. One thing she noted awhile back with her classmates was how caught up they were with themselves. They rarely looked outward so of course they’d never see how much JJ did pay attention. How much JJ saw. Her mother had told her she was wise beyond her years, understanding concepts that take most people their whole lives to figure out. An old soul in a youthful body, that used levity and humor throughout her day, because she wanted to. Because she could. Because smiles and laughter were the best form of therapy.

There were so many questions she could ask but she decided on a simple one. “So… Do you have a date tomorrow for the dance?” Jordyn calmly asked, curiosity being one of her notable traits. Jamie’s breakup with AJ had spread fast around the halls of Beverly Hills High, especially because of how public their relationship was to begin with. With AJ’s loud passion and loyal soul, and Jamie’s ruthless ambition and clear direction, don’t forget the promposal, they were a couple her peers rooted for to win the superlative “Best Couple” this year. At least from her observation they looked at each other with an overflow of love and balanced one another in a cute way, that was their own. Where AJ was the drive, Jamie was the plan. Where AJ was the spirit, Jamie was the truth. Where AJ was the line, Jamie was the kite. Or was it the other way around? Regardless, they were cute, at least while it lasted. They would’ve been the second lgbtq+ couple to win that, the first being Levi’s parents, Hailey & Hana Green. Love was a fickle thing though and they broke up before the summer. It was sad but they’re young and alive, and that was a beautiful thing in her opinion. “I only ask because you seem a bit off, and I thought hey maybe he’s worried about the game or maybe he has pre-dance jitters. You can totally ignore me though if you don’t want to answer. Just thought I’d ask…” Her voice trailed off, knowing she was rambling and needed to put the brakes on. She talked too much sometimes.

Jamie glanced away, gnawing on his lip at JJ’s question. It was salt in a fresh wound. AJ wasn’t his date, but Jamie had been looking forward to making eyes at him from across the dance floor, and reveling in the fun of it all. He’d thought that was what AJ was all about and he’d tried to be that and he’d clearly failed miserably. “Does Trixie count?” He forced an easy smile and looked back at JJ. “No date, which is fine, because dates are distractions.” They took a few more steps, silence hanging between them. “Not much of a point to it, is there?” Jamie didn’t wait for a response. “I’m not a Candy. I don’t believe in love at first sight and shit like that, and really, the truth is, most of these relationships will be done by the time we come home for Christmas next year so…” Jamie trailed off, heaving a sigh and shaking his head. His reflexive cynicism wasn’t fooling anybody, least of all him.

That’s a bingo.

Jamie gave her more than something casual and blasé to pass the time. He gave her what she could only deduce was a glimpse of himself, his issues, and his rather shitty perspective on life. They had approximately seven minutes from their current point to get to their final destination: the Business room. They had to go through the lobby, pass the main office, take a right, greet the nurse and keep moving forward until they sailed straight to the land where Ms. Caterina Belmonte reigned. Room 105. That was seven minutes to give Jamie Callaghan some food for thought or at least leave a good impression on him where he’d consider being her friend. She wouldn’t mind having more friends. It made the school day that more interesting when you had someone from every corner of the world. The world being her school. “Platonic love certainly does count,” JJ beamed, adjusting her backpack and tote with Big Cheese, as she looked at her surroundings, taking in the atmosphere, the ambience, and the angle, while still being ever present to her seven minute companion.

“As for all that other hodge-podge stuff… who cares? Labels and all that jazz, that’s not really what people are going to remember when we leave this place; you know what I’m going to remember?” JJ glanced over to the boy beside her, no malice in her tone and her eyes sparkling with genuine thoughtfulness and good intention. She was going to tell him what she remembered regardless if he wanted to hear her or not. He cracked the door open and she was going to peek in and try her best to inch it open, even more. “This. You taking the time to talk to me. Do you remember freshman year, in English 101, I sat right behind you and Trixie? I remember asking what you were planning to write to impress the seniors for the newspaper club and you brushed me off like I was a tiny speck in the grand scheme of things. Well this speck in time still thinks about that day.” She paused, letting her words and the silence in between them weigh in their exchange. Even silence meant something and had meaning. All Jamie needed to do was focus on her and see what this moment was at face value. Someone wanting to be his friend.

“After we graduate, I’m not going to remember my SAT score or whether I got into the college of my dreams — full disclosure, college is a scam and I’m just going to community — I’m going to remember the moments. And if that includes someone to love, someone I can consider mine, and me theirs, even if it might be fleeting... at least I had someone that made me happy. At least I had someone to hold. At least I can say I had someone who, without a doubt, made me the happiest I could ever be, and was someone I needed, right now." She cleared her throat, hoping he didn't mind the lecture. Jones had habits, they liked to talk. After a beat, she continued, asking the same rhetorical question he asked her. “What’s the point, Jamie Callaghan?”

“Hm, maybe if you stopped stressing about having all the answers, you’d be able to see for yourself.” She teasingly nudged him and gestured toward a group of kids huddled, in their red & black attire, hyped and talking about the upcoming game. She then pulled his attention to a couple, where the boy was carrying roses and he nervously asked the girl if she’d be his date for the homecoming dance. Her response was absolute shock but once she snapped out of it, stunned for a second, she squealed yes and embraced him tightly. “I’m here for the confetti.”

Jamie thought that receiving a pep talk (an admittedly decent pep talk) from Jordyn Jones, the girl with the rodents, was not exactly a sign of a Jamie Callaghan renaissance. He was certainly not about to metaphorically start dancing in a cage with a new lease on life, à la Miley Cyrus, but he did feel better. Not great, but better. He supposed that counted for something. “You are oddly wise for a girl who sneaks her pets into school.” As they approached room 105, Jamie paused his stride, turning to JJ. “I’m definitely going to regret this if the mouse causes a scene, but hey, fuck it. Ethan Green’s throwing a party tomorrow night. Family vineyard, very boujee. Theme is Risky Business, which I’m sure DJ will either love or have some snarky comment for. He’s renting a bus or some shit, to cart everybody over. You guys should come.”

“Wow, that’s extra extra, but I’m all for it. And DJ is going to be so excited even if she might not show it. I have this weird head canon that if her and Ethan actually were in the same orbit they’d have popcorn worthy debates on films. You ever notice them go off on their own tangents or is it just me? Might just be me.” JJ not only seemed to make Jamie feel a little better but she also got invited to a massive social event that would set in motion the rest of the year. Honestly, as much as she would love to bring Biggie or Jigz or Master Splinter or Hammy or Jarvis, she didn’t want to risk them getting caught up with a bunch of teens and maybe getting squished. Parties were chaotic at this school.

“Jamie, Jordyn. This is a first, seeing you both coming in together. And cutting it extremely close.” Ms. Belmonte greeted, skimming her email. She was sitting at her desk which was in front of her homeroom class, far left, sporting the school colors with a red dress, black boots and a suit jacket. “I hope everything is okay,” she subtly probed. It was hard to read Ms. Belmonte because her voice was raspy, in a sexy way, which was distracting. As was her face, that was distracting too. And her body. Very distracting. It was hard to explain the effect Ms. Cat had on her students. She was way too hot to be a teacher but here she was teaching trust fund babies tools and resources that would help them when they inherit their family’s businesses, stocks and estate.

Jamie grinned. “Newspaper business. It never ends, Ms. B.” Jamie took his seat near the front, close enough to be noticed by Ms. Belmonte, but far enough away from her that he could listen in on what people were saying. Some of the best gossip got whispered during class sessions. There were seats open on either side of him, and while he didn’t offer one to JJ, the door was open a lot wider than it had been an hour ago. He pulled his phone from his pocket and quickly made a post about Ethan’s party, sending it out with a whoosh. “Ahoy, or whatever. Anyone who’s anyone will be washing down tomorrow's dance with shots and jungle juice, at a vineyard so kindly provided by one Ethan Green. Risky Business is the theme, bus is the method of transportation, and getting wasted is the end goal. The bus leaves after the crowns come out, be there, or be wherever losers go,” he announced, droll and unfazed by the authority figure mere feet from his desk.

“Not the time or place, Jamie,” Ms. Belmonte softly reprimanded. He knew she wasn’t going to do anything because she knew the parties were important in the social scene at this school but she could at least act like she wasn’t intrigued herself. Risky Business? An interesting choice to start the school year. “I didn’t hear a thing, just don’t be dumb and bring protection.” She advised her class who all reacted either by laughter or by grimace.

“There will be no blossoms getting pollinated by all the bees this weekend, Ms. Kitty Cat!” JJ joked, excitedly taking a seat to Jamie’s right.

“Not the bees,” a kid laughed out loud.

Quickly, she rummaged through her tote, made a kissy face to her mouse, before taking out a pen and note card. She scribbled her number on it and slapped it on Jamie’s desk. “Want to go to the party together?!”

“I did invite you, so it’s proper etiquette” Jamie made a contact for JJ and sent a quick text, so she had his number. “Don’t abuse the number, I don’t just hand it out like candy.” He had a feeling that she wouldn’t heed that for longer than two weeks, but what could he say? He might’ve been cold blooded, but JJ had practically held a heat lamp to his face until he warmed up. He had to give her something.

“Okay, okay but there is something I need to ask you. What did one lung say to the other?”

Jamie sighed. He was beginning to rethink this already. “What?”

JJ smirked. He was playing along. This was a fantastic sign. “We be-lung together!” She giggled at how terrible her pun was and slapped her knee. That was a knee slapper indeed.

Jamie tried his best, but a smirk broke through his stoney expression. “God, it’s not even lunch yet.”