Sick of losing soulmates (Cheryl Blossom & Toni Topaz)

14

Cheryl and Penelope get into a fight that same day.

It's about her grades because for the first time, ever, Cheryl got a B in her biology exam and now her grade's dropped to an A-.

Yes, that's right. An A-fucking-minus. Now her 4.0 average is down by one point and her mother is having a screaming fit over it. Jason gets pulled into it because of course he does.

"We give you everything, you spoiled little brat, and you can't even get good grades? Everything is handed to you and you can't even do that? Study for a test? Look at me when I talk to you, Cheryl."

Penelope grips Cheryl's jaw so tight she can already feel the bruises blossoming under her skin, along her bones.

"It's one test, mother, please — I can get that A back, I can do some extra credit, if Mr. Rendone will–"

"You're going to beg for extra credit? How ridicilous. Shameful. You're a disgrace to the Blossom lineage–"

"It's an A minus, mother, don't be–"

Penelope slaps her, then. It's happened loads of times so it's not a shock anymore, not really, but it stings all the same.

"Don't be what, Cheryl? Hm? Finish. I want to hear what you have to say." Cheryl can feel her mother's eyes on the side of her face, waiting, but Cheryl doesn't answer. "Exactly. Kids these days, they get all brave and think they can talk to their parents however they want but it's not right. It's not right and — you know who knew this?"

"Jason." Cheryl replies, voice hoarse from yelling.

"Jason," Penelope walks over to the table and pours herself a glass of wine, dark and red like Cheryl's bruises will be tonight, "how I miss him. He was the good one, did you know that? Always was. Now he knew how to treat his parents. He could keep his grades up and be on the water polo team and be in the football team. What's your excuse? All you do is jump around and wave stupid little pom-poms around. So sub-par."

Cheryl finds a spot on the rug and stares at it, focuses on it — it's the only way she'll keep from full-on crying in front of her mother and she's beyond that now. She'll hold it in until she's in the shower or her room or in her car. She won't let her mother see how much of an effect she has on Cheryl. She won't give her the satisfaction, not anymore.

"Get out of my sight," Penelope waves her off, settling down on the loveseat, "I can't stand to look at you anymore."

Cheryl doesn't wait. She rushes out of the house and slams the door on her way out, hoping something broke from the force of it. It takes her a few seconds to jam the keys into the ignition but as soon as the car turns on, she speeds away as fast as she can to wherever this road takes her — grocery store, Pop's, the theatre.

The theatre sounds great, actually. Sitting in the dark and stuffing her face with carbs. Her mother won't scold her about keeping her figure trim or wasting her time with pointless entertainment. It's perfect.