People don't understand Calla. They think they do, funny since they've never bothered to know her. Their idea of Calla is one based on bias and stereotypes and is formed on misconceptions. Misconception one, she is shy. Misconception two, she is timid. And finally misconception three, probably the biggest one, she's an easy target.
'Apologise!' A low voice bellowed, the voice belonged to Jared Hitchford, a heavyset boy with a meaty face which was currently twisted into a horrifying snarl. He stood, towering over a girl, twisting her wrist back, that girl was Calla.
Richard Grayson was probably one of the very few people who understood Calla, and for that reason, he didn't make a move to help her.
Calla's cool hazel eyes slid to Jareds, her expression flat yet threatening, 'No.'
The boy growled, tightening his iron grip. Calla's eye twitched, a slight wince? Or was she simply annoyed?
'I'm not apologizing, Jared, I have nothing to apologize for.' she stated, her voice deadpan.
The veins in his neck looked as though they were about to burst from his skin, 'You bitch,' he spat, 'I know you messed with my ride, you're the one always spouting off about that environmental crap.'
'I wasn't the one who keyed your car Jared, though frankly, I'm not surprised someone did. Taking up two parking spaces is just a dick move.'
He narrowed his beady eyes, 'Compensation, I need it.'
Calla raised an eyebrow, glancing below his belt, 'Oh I'm so sorry.' she pouted coyly at him. 'That must be challenging for you and your oh so manly image, huh?'
Jared's face turned an ungodly shade of red, the bulging veins spreading to his forehead. He was practically foaming through his gritted teeth as he pulled back his fist then sent it straight for Calla's face. It was strong but his form was sloppy, Calla swiftly dodged out of its way the fist slamming into the locker behind her. A loud bang erupted through the halls, cutting off any surrounding chatter.
'Hitchford,' a shrilled voice cried through the halls, as the clip of high hells headed towards them. Jared was breathing heavily, in shaky sobs cradling his injured hand. Calla had moved a step away with her hands innocently in her pockets and the rest of the crowd had dispersed. Ms. Jenson turned to Dick, mouth forming a thin line, 'Care to tell me what happened here, Grayson?'
Over Ms. Jenson's shoulder Calla sent him a warning look, 'He slipped and fell.' he smiled.
Ms. Jenson raised a thinly plucked eyebrow, 'With his fist crashing into the lockers?'
Dick shrugged, 'It happens.'Jareds blubbering increased from the floor.
'Oh for goodness sake, could someone please take that poor boy to the nurse's office.' a few of the football boys scooped him up in their arms and half dragged him down the hall. Ms. Jensen then turned her gaze to Calla a Dick, 'I'm letting this situation slide for the meantime since Mr. Hitchford has a habit of finding himself in these kinds of situations.' Calla and Dick exchanged a glance, 'But know, I have an eye on you two.' She spun on her heels hurrying after the struggling boys.
Dick gave Calla a quick smile turning to stroll towards the hallways exit, Calla met his pace next to him.
'You called her, didn't you?' She asked, glancing at him from the side.
Dick dramatically gasped placing a palm over his chest, 'Are you accusing me of snitching? Calla, I'm hurt.'
She rolled her eyes, 'Oh please Grayson, it's a common fact that you're the biggest stickler out there.'
'Well, Calla, I am the student leader, following the rules is apart of the job title.'
'Oh yes, my mistake, we wouldn't want to tarnish your reputation of a massive stickler, would we? That would be tragic.'
He shot her a wink, 'It certainly would.'
Calla scoffed as they stopped at the gates of Gotham Academy, as they did so a slick black BMW pulled up in front of them.
'So we still on for tomorrow?' Dick asked walking backward, towards the car.
'Course, could you give me a lift to yours though?'
He grinned opening the car door, 'Certainly, later Calla.'
'Seeya stickler,' she waved as he slid into the car which pulled out and into the busy streets of Gotham.
Calla kept walking, further down till she reached the city's train station. The entire place was bustling with people filling every inch of the place, pushing and shoving each other in a hectic flow of traffic and strange odors. Calla smiled inwardly, perfect. With a quick stride and quicker fingers she maneuvered her way through the crowd, filling her pockets in the process, and before anyone could even notice her presence she slid into the first train on the black line, heading East.
As they approached closer to the East End District, the passengers began flaking away. Calla zipped a black hoodie, that she pulled from her bag, over her uniform and pulled her short hair from its overly tight bun fully concealing her "student of a prodigious academy" appearance. People around here didn't take kindly to rich kids, and although she wasn't one, they were sure to be even less friendly to "traitors", and this is the sort of place where it pays to have few enemies.
Calla shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie and leaned against the glass door of the train as it passed over the city. She peered out the glass, through a pollution thick skyline, to the Diamond District, the place of Gotham's wealthiest citizens of course including Wayne Enterprises Headquarters. The company Dicks dad owns. Rich kid, she chuckled to herself, funny how she became friends with such a brat.
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Inflorescence • Poison Ivy's Daughter
Romance"Finally, he met her eyes, 'You're Her aren't you? The green-eyed girl. People been talking about you you know, they say you help out the people round here. The people who can't help themselves.'" Calla might not be the epitome of righteousness but...