Mistress(es)

Ep. 2a: Step Into My Parlor...

As Cleo walked down the hallway, she bobbed her shoulders slightly and swayed her head in rhythm to the music playing in her ears. She had arrived at school surprisingly early (by her own standards) and was admittedly enjoying the sparse hallways and lack of students present before the busses arrived. Having her own car meant that she could show up whenever, and that usually meant later rather than sooner. But with the atmosphere the empty halls provided and the clarity of her music, she was beginning to think that maybe she should try getting to school early more often.

'Ha. Fat chance,' She admitted to herself.

Cleo reached the group's morning meeting spot, a location just next to the gym stairs, and slung her bag off, leaning against the wall as she did so. She continued to jam out to the music humming in her ears for a while before her phone vibrated, alerting her of a message. She pulled the thing out and stared at the screen to find a text from Abby.

Move forward. It read.

Cleo looked both directions down the hall in confusion, an eyebrow raised, then took a stride forward.

Closer. Another message came through.

Cleo obeyed, now very confused. She removed an earbud and looked around again, "Abby?" She called.

"Psst." She heard from in front of her. It was coming from beneath the gym stairs. Cleo cautiously moved toward them, keeping her brow furrowed as she went. What the heck was her friend doing?

"Abby? Are you under there? What the hell are you-"

She jumped suddenly as a pair of pale arms shot out from beneath the steps and gripped her own, abruptly pulling her into the cover. Once there, she found her friend standing there staring at her, a hunch in her stance and wild look in her eyes. Abby was the type of girl who typically kept up her appearance well, but Cleo immediately noticed that something was off about her friend by the way she looked. As mentioned, her expression was not the 'holds her head high' aura that Abby usually wore. She looked panicked and extremely nervous, although that last one might not have been too out of place for the girl. On top of that, though, she was not dressed nearly how Abby usually would. She didn't wear the usual fancy skirts and blouses or jeans and sweaters. Abby wore a yellow hoodie that was currently pulled up to cover her wild red hair and a pair of pajama pants. No- leggings. That was especially a red flag considering Abby wore leggings in public maybe two times a year.

Despite her concern for her friend, Cleo couldn't help but first scold her, "What the hell, Abby! You scared the shit outta' me!"

"Sorry- Sorry! I just really needed to talk to you!" Abby quickly said, switching her hands from a grip on Cleo to a reassuring pat.

"What, to sell drugs or something? Why are you hiding under the stairs and dressed like the sketchiest girl alive?"

Abby pouted, "Cleo, this is serious."

Cleo sighed, "Sure, fine, sorry. What's up?" When Abby didn't immediately respond and instead darted her eyes to the side with pursed lips, Cleo suddenly remembered, "Wait a minute, you hung out with Skyler last night! Oh no- did it not go well? What happened? Tell me everything."

"No, it did go well," Abby said, "Too well, actually."

Cleo's eyes widened, "Oh my gosh, did you two...?"

"N-No!" Abby scrambled, "W-Well not quite..."

"Abbyyyyy!" Cleo purred with a proud tone.

"No! not "Abby"!" She mocked, "It didn't go the way you think. Something else happened, and last night I was so caught up in it that I wasn't really worried, but this morning I woke up and remembered it all and now I'm freaking out!"