corruption

three ੈ✩‧₊

Lacie's pov:

I sat cross-legged on Nina's kitchen table, scrolling through my phone aimlessly. The cool surface beneath me was a welcome contrast to the warmth of the room, still lingering from our Halloween treats baking session. The faint scent of pumpkin spice and vanilla filled the air, mingling with the sound of running water as Nina cleaned up at the counter.

"What do you wanna do tonight?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the screen.

Nina hummed, scrubbing a stubborn spot off the mixing bowl. "Dunno. We could just stay in, watch something scary... or," she paused, her voice taking on that mischievous edge I knew too well, "we could go out."

I perked up at that, finally setting my phone down. "Go out where?"

She turned off the tap, wiped her hands on a towel, and shot me a grin. "Anywhere. But first, we have to get dolled up and take pictures. For no reason."

Her idea instantly excited me. There was something thrilling about dressing up with nowhere specific to go. I hopped off the table, following her down the hallway to her room.

Nina's room was a chaotic sanctuary, clothes strewn across the bed and floor, makeup scattered across her vanity. We started rummaging through her closet, pulling out the most revealing, fun outfits we could find. Black mini skirts, fishnet stockings, cropped tops—no article of clothing was too daring tonight. It felt liberating, slipping into something so bold. The cool air on my bare skin gave me a rush.

We moved on to makeup, leaning into Nina's mirror as we painted on dramatic eyeliner and dark lipstick. It was dark out, after all, so we went all out. My reflection stared back at me, confident and rebellious, like I was ready to take on anything.

By the time we were done, we looked... well, hot. We admired ourselves for a moment, trading compliments, before deciding to leave the house, we started walking around town, going random places and talking about random shit like usual. With the occasional "What if we see...".

Before we knew it we hit the nightlife district. It was Friday night, after all, and the energy downtown would be buzzing.

The streets were alive when we arrived, neon signs flickering and music spilling out from open doors. The night felt electric, every moment charged with possibility. We walked side by side, kitten heels clicking against the pavement, soaking in the attention our outfits drew.

Then, I saw him.

Mr. Healy, our new English teacher, was leaning against a brick wall outside a club, a cigarette between his fingers. He was dressed down in a black leather jacket, jeans that fit just right, and a smoldering look that made my heart skip a beat. His leg was propped up against the wall, casual but somehow commanding, like he owned the place.

"Nina," I whispered urgently, nudging her. "Is that...?"

Nina looked up, and her eyes went wide. "Oh my God," she breathed. "What the hell is bro doing here?"

We exchanged silent, wide-eyed looks, the kind that said a thousand things at once. I could feel my cheeks flush, my pulse quicken. The idea of him seeing us like this—dressed to kill—was both thrilling and terrifying.

"Should we...?" Nina started, but I was already moving.

We sauntered past him, making sure our hips swayed just a little more than usual, the kind of walk that demanded attention. I could feel his eyes on us, and it sent a shiver down my spine. As we got closer, I heard his low voice, rough and teasing.

"Looking good, ladies. Heading inside?"

We paused, turning back to him with playful smiles. But then something flickered in his expression as recognition dawned. His cocky smirk faltered, eyes widening slightly.