(Narrator: Hello, moving back to the lovely Cordelia. Don't fret, we'll continue with Rory and you will meet the rest in a more up-close spectrum, but until then, let these two woman guide you to the story. Because without them, there wouldn't be a story.)
Hello, moving back to the lovely Cordelia. Don't fret, we'll continue with Rory and you will meet the rest in a more up-close spectrum, but until then, let these two woman guide you to the story. Because without them, there wouldn't be a story.
Cordelia
"Hi, we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Zach." She recognizes him and she did not like what she remembered. "Yeah, I see you met my friend." She pointed at his bruised jaw. "Friend?" The boy questioned.
"Yes."
"Aurora doesn't have friends."
"Then I guess she made an exception."
The boy appears stunned like he was just.... Well hit. "It seems so, well any friend of Aurora's is a friend of mine." Cordelia scoffs at the idea of this dickhead considering her to be a friend. "And why would I want to be friends with an ass like yourself?" Cordelia walks to the other table, leaving without seeing his male fragile broken.
"Woah!"
Zach runs after her. "It's not like that."
"Bet."
Cordelia chuckled at him. She knew his kind. She used to date his kind, hot, charming, and a bit of a jerk with the lovely idea that once you finally get yourself a man like him, he cheats with the first women with her legs open. She's done with that life, those boys. More importantly, she was done with him.
New outlook.
New you.
"Listen, that kid is a freak, he just got placed back after a year of alternative school. He's a psycho, ask anyone." No. She refrained from judging, knowing that her new friend would not have taken up for him if he was bad. But there was something in her that was hard to ignore. She remembered those kids back in New York. She used to cross the other street to make sure they didn't get near her. She couldn't even tell their faces apart, too busy with listening to the rumors of their name.
"Listen, you're new, so you don't know."
"Don't know what?"
Cordelia innocently asks with big eyes and a pink smile, trying to frustrate the boy. "What happen, did he mix Oreos and orange juice together?" She mocks him, trying to think of a reason why he would be so hated in a small town. New York, she understood, nobody was close, so when you had a reputation, that was only because money or fame. Nobody became popular because they were good hearted, no, but because they were either mean or meaner. She had a feeling by the way the nameless face didn't fight back that he wasn't exactly the mean type. "So, what did he do?"
"Two years ago, that guy's brother shot up the high school. Fourteen wounded, two dead."
Cordelia's lungs swell up, fighting for the chance to breathe. "Oh." A look of genuine horror was painted on her face in facial expressions that she couldn't twist into a smile or hide. "So, why does he get bullied...? Why is it his fault?"
"How could he not know what his brother was up to?"
Zach throws his hand down. "When someone has that much hatred and anger, you tend to notice, especially when you're in the same household!" She could feel the olive color in her skin fade.
Click. Click.
The door opens, her breathing pauses.
Bang.
The smell of gun powder leave a foul scent in her nose.
Thump.
Her mom's laughter is gone.
"Not everyone knows."
"Then they weren't paying attention."
No! She was. She was paying attention. CLICK. CLICK. She watched her father come home every night after gambling with the same bad luck. She watched as her mother poured another drink. She watched the gun, she saw it in his eyes. She watched her mother lay on the floor and take her last breath. She watched as her blew his brains out. CLICK. CLICK.
"You say that like he could have stopped it either way."
She could have stopped it. She could have stopped being such a selfish and poisonous bitch for one second and heard the cries around her. She could have got a job, helped out the family. She could have done something, anything! "Excuse me." She is not her parents. She is normal. She is alive. She couldn't have stopped it.
"What did you say your name was again?"
"I didn't."
Cordelia slips out of class, giving a wave to her perfect attendance and new reputation as the school's good girl. She's so stupid. She should have just waited to go back or have maybe applied for home-school. She should have stayed silent, kept to herself. She should have worn dark clothes and kept her hoodie up. Too bad her wardrobe only contains the entire pastel collection. She should have burned them, all of them. She needed someone, the dark shadow herself, she needed Rory.
Pathetic, she thought.
She's never, in her young life of 16 years needed someone. Screw that! She's Cordelia Ann Hart, queen of beauty and brains, the key to happiness in itself. She is a prize, a goddess, a gift-
"Queenie?" Rory's calm voice calls to her.
She's also lying. She did need her.
There stood her new found friend, standing tall with an above the knee ruffled black dress paired with fish net leggings, and faded Rocket boots. "Oh thank you!" Cordelia jumped to Rory's arms, pulling her in for a tight hug, before letting her go, memorizing her image. She traced the waves in her short hair that hung above her shoulders. She watched the midnight in her roots fade to the deep purple color that went so well with her dark complexion.
"Bad day?"
Cordelia tilts her head up, absorbing her light green that when the light hit them, specks of yellow could be seen. "You have no idea."
WHOOSH! KA-PLAM.
The bell rings with a whooshing sound that is followed by students opening the door. "Well I'm suspended for the rest of the day, you hungry?" Rory digs through her bag, pulling out a pair of keys tied to a fuzzy ball. "I sort of left my wallet at home." Cordelia, embarrassed, lies to cover the secret of her past. "Relax, it's on me. You survived your first day at Dead Waters. That's an accomplishment that earns you lunch with Rory Rodríguez and a milkshake of your choice." Excitement filled her. She was going on a lunch date with a friend. She made a friend, a kind amazing one.
"Where are we going?"
"Oh child." Rory places her arm over Cordelia's open shoulders, wrapping a sense of safety to her. "You have not lived until you've tried Mamas."
