Bad Girls (Dance Moms fanfic)

Chapter One

“That girl better watch herself.” Randy said from his spot in the living room.

Slamming doors. It wasn’t rare in the Hyland house. Three hormonal teenagers and two stubborn parents living under one roof? Drama was bound to happen. Usually you could hear a door slam after dinner, and it was usually Josh’s fault. He’d say something rude or uncalled for. Paige would start crying and run to Kelly, but when Kelly couldn’t drop what she was doing to hold Paige while she cried, the young girl would run up to her room and slam her door, making a scene, like always. Then Randy, from his spot in the living room, would say something along the lines of, “That girl better watch herself.” It was always the same, and it always had been. Though that day was a little bit different.

It had been a normal Thursday. It was the last Thursday before Spring Break. It was a little chilly in Murrysville, but still warming up a lot. Kelly and the girls had just gotten home from the dance studio. Brooke and Paige ran up to their rooms while Kelly went to the kitchen to get dinner started. There was only an hour that she had to prepare everything until Randy and Josh got home from hockey. Paige immediately turned on some music and hopped in the shower, but Brooke wasn’t into that right away. She dropped her bag in the floor and crashed into her bed. Abby hadn’t yelled at her that day, so she knew it was coming tomorrow.

Ever since Brooke decided to move back in at home and out of Abby’s house, things were different. It had been over a year since that had happened, and she didn’t know why Abby was still so pent up about it. Brooke knew that Abby didn’t like her family, but it was no reason to take things out on her. Brooke had been the favorite for years before Maddie showed some potential. Part of Brooke blamed Maddie for kick starting the whole “Abby hates the Hylands” thing though she knew that was wrong. It wasn’t a little girl’s fault, no matter how innocent or guilty she may be.

Brooke turned her head and saw a picture of she and Nick from prom the year before. It had been almost a year since the prom debacle. Going there with Nick and coming home with Brandon, this time not completely wasted. Though she got a wicked cold from dancing in the rain. YOLO, right? Since then, the three of them got their differences worked out. Though sometimes Brooke was still scared that Brandon would show back up and try to get some people to kidnap her or shoot her again. That was scarring and almost unforgivable, but Brandon was a hunk. Everyone with eyes could see that. Brooke grinned at the picture, but the smile quickly dropped. Nick and the other senior company dancers from the Abby Lee Dance Company were going on a trip down to Florida for Spring Break. It was completely paid for by Auriel’s parents. The only thing Brooke would have to pay for was food. Brooke was invited and everyone really wanted her to go, but she just couldn’t. Abby wouldn’t let her.

7:14 PM flashed on Brooke’s ancient alarm clock that sat next to her bed. “Ughhhh,” she moaned, pushing herself up off of her bed and over to her book bag. Homework wasn’t going to do itself and with four tests the next day, she had to her homework. She couldn’t care less about her test in Spanish or her biology exam. Algebra 2 was kicking her butt, though. Back during the first semester, Brooke ended up with an 89 in algebra. It didn’t kill her GPA, but it was her first B on her high school transcript. Brooke was a smart girl, but she had to work really, really hard. Especially when they had to film. Waist deep in Antigone, Brooke got bored. It was now around 7:45, and all she wanted to do was call Nolan, her boyfriend.

After Prom the previous year, Brooke and Brandon never decided to date. They had fun at prom, they just didn’t want to add any more problems in their friend group. Besides, Brandon was going off to college later that year, in the fall. It would’ve been too difficult to date. Brooke had to film for Dance Moms and Brandon was moving on in life. So they decided to just be friends. Sometimes, when Brooke was actually home, they’d make out or go swimming together, but it wasn’t anything serious. Just fun and flirty. While all of this was happening, Brooke was also talking to Nolan. Nolan was a sweet boy, a year younger than Brandon too, so she still had time left with him. Sometime in July he asked her to go on a date, and they did. Then a few weeks later, he asked her to be his girlfriend. Weeks after that, he asked to her homecoming, and she went, of course. They’ve been steady and strong ever since.

“Brooke!” Kelly called from down the stairs. Paige’s music stopped, and Brooke took a sigh of relief. There was only so much teeny bopper music that she could handle before she was going to explode. The thing with Paige was, she was always doing things to make her fit in with the rest of the crowd. Brooke tried talking to her and telling her that it’s okay to be her own person, but it never worked. Paige would just cry and say that she didn’t know who she was, and Brooke would say that she’d help her find who she was, but the next day, they were screaming at each other again. Like all sisters did. “Brooke!” Kelly screamed a little louder, but Brooke just rolled her eyes and went back to pretending to read Antigone while she waited on a text back from Nolan.

The door creaked open and Paige’s head popped in. Her hair was matted down to the back of her head from the shower. “Brookie?” Paige called, timidly, “Mommy’s calling for you.”

“I know,” Brooke said, shaking her head and shooing Paige out of the room. It went quiet again except for the vibrating sound from Brooke’s phone, letting her know that someone had texted her. Thinking it was Nolan, Brooke quickly unlocked her phone. But it wasn’t a text from Nolan. It was a text from Kelly telling her to get down stairs right now, but she ignored it. Unfortunately for Brooke, she had left her read receipts on, so Kelly saw that Brooke saw her text message and wasn’t coming down stairs.

“BROOKE MARIE HYLAND!”

“I’m coming! Gah…” Brooke shouted, closing her book and shoving her phone in the band of her yoga leggings. She hadn’t changed when she got home, so she was still in the same leggings that she was at dance with her bra top and a Victoria’s Secret jacket only zipped up half of the way. Her hair was still in a ponytail. It was weird, usually when she got home, she changed into some comfier clothes. Like shorts and a t-shirt. Brooke padded down the stairs and grumpily walked into through the living room. “Oh, hey Daddy. When did you get home?” Honestly, she didn’t really care. She just wanted to acknowledge his presence for a moment. Randy had said something, but Brooke wasn’t listening. She had tuned him out as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. “What?” Brooke sassed Kelly.

“I need you to set the table.” Kelly said, attempting to look Brooke in the eye, but Brooke wasn’t having it. Kelly had her angry eyes on. They were big and electric, a little blood shot and definitely angry. You could feel in. Brooke said okay and pulled the dishes out of the cabinet. She put the placemats down first and loudly placed the plates on the table. After all of the plates were set, Brooke sloppily threw the silverware at the places, some forks and knives falling off of the table. “Enough, Brooke. Enough.”

“What? I’m doing what you asked me to.” Brooke said, standing near the table.

“I know you’re pissed off because Ms. Abby won’t let you go on Spring Break. I know you’re pissed because she’s making you dance with your little sister and her friends, Brooke, but I can’t do anything about that. I can’t, and you know what? I’m tired of you bullshit. I’m tired of your stuck up attitude all the time. I’m tired of walking on eggshells around Princess Brooke. I’m done with it. You’re going to dance, and that’s that.” Kelly ranted, talking with her hands and throwing around a dish rag.

“You don’t get it,” Brooke muttered, picking up a couple of dropped silverware pieces.

“What don’t I get, Brooke? What don’t I get?” Kelly asked, flustered and frustrated with her eldest daughter.

“Me!” Brooke shouted, running back through the living room and up the squeaky stairs. She slipped on the last one, landing with a thud. But she stood back up and ran to her room, slamming the door as hard as she possibly could before diving back into her bed and crying into her pillows.

“That girl better watch herself,” Randy said from his spot in the living room.