My Mythic Bitch In Red

Chapter Thirty

Heather Chandler's POV

Why was I such a bumbling idiot?

I planned to ask (y/n) to the dance? Never got around to it.

I wanted to ask (y/n) to be my girlfriend? Chickened out despite knowing she liked me.

And now I went and put the icing on the cake, I told her I loved her and totally freaked her out. We weren't even dating, just in that weird limbo between close friends and a pair of girlfriends.

At least now the battle would be settled. We'd remain just friends because I was too forward with her when she wasn't into it. I seriously screwed up, and I had no clue of how to fix it.

"Oh, hi! I haven't seen you in forever. How's it been, dyke?" I froze, hearing a familiar voice behind me. I glanced backward to see that it belonged to Duke, who was surrounded by a group of her new friends. I rolled my eyes and scoffed.

"Whoever you're trying to make fun of clearly doesn't care. Move along," I commanded, mustering up all the power I could and using it to hopefully get her to leave me alone and remember who was in charge here.

"So you don't care that soon enough everybody's gonna know that you and your girlfriend are dating?" She gave an obviously fake-innocent facial expression and I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not seeing anybody, actually. Now, shut up and leave me be. I'd rather be talking to the rats outside than you,"

"Harsh. But everybody's gonna know your little secret soon, so don't even bother to pretend everything's normal. What a sad, gay, pathetic bitch you are." She grinned and strutted away, posse following behind. One girl looked back and flashed me an apologetic face but I was too busy glaring to care.

I was left alone in a crowded hallway, confused, afraid, and angry as hell. Who did she even think she was, anyway? She was always way less confident than this new version of her.

And that scared me shitless.

I knew full well what she could do to someone's reputation. She was a bully and never vowed to be nicer, she was just vengeful and petty.

Today really had been hell, and school hadn't even technically started. I decided to go and clear my head in the cafeteria. Maybe I could sneak out to the back of the school to get some fresh air, even. If I was lucky I could be out there the entire day and nobody would even notice. That was unlikely though.

I just wanted to close my eyes and go far away into some fantasy land with fairies and clear, sparkly water, the ground covered in thick, bright green grass that deer grazed from. A world without Heather Duke or accidental confessions. A life without worry.

Picture that, huh? A life without the stress of being a senior and a person with a hugely important social life. Maybe I could simulate it with alcohol.

No, (y/n) wouldn't like that, and no matter what I fucked up, I was always going to be smitten with that girl. She was kind of like that fantasy land for me, if I really thought about it.

So I wasn't going to sit around, moping and drinking on school grounds. I just needed time outside to think.

(y/n)'s POV

I glanced up at the clock, and internally groaned. I would have done it out loud, but I caught myself. I really wasn't fond of the idea of detention on Halloween. That sounded like actual hell itself, to be perfectly honest. I really wanted to get home, but it was only halfway through first period right now.

Mr. Kelly was droning on and on about the newsboy strike of 1899 as an example of the material for history, but I could hardly even focus on that. He grinned and talked enthusiastically, even getting vaguely emotional at times, which was strange, but maybe he just loved Halloween and was super excited about it, too? Ugh, who even knows. All I knew was, I wished I'd just skipped class today. I wouldn't even have been having drama today, which was seriously unfair.

Who decided to make school so boring and why did everyone else in charge listen to them?

"Now, what newspaper company exactly were the newsies striking against?" The teacher asked, and I foolishly made eye contact with him. My eyes widened and my heart-rate quickened, leaving me a flustered mess.

"(y/n), care to answer?" No, I didn't. I seriously hated answering questions in class.

"The World?" I squeaked in the most calm voice I could muster. He proudly nodded.

"Exactly. The World magazine was run by Joseph Pulitzer, a wealthy businessman who raised the price of the papers. The newsies, who were often broke and homeless, could hardly afford to buy the papers they had to sell in order to survive, and decided a strike would be the best option." He droned on, and I zoned out, staring forward at the wall. I really, really just wanted to go home.

"Sir, why exactly are you explaining this strike for the entire period?" One of the other students piped up, and I turned to see it was Renee, that one girl who lended me pencils sometimes.

"Because, Miss Greene, it's an example of the rampant child labor and bad working conditions. This is one of many, many strikes that happened. Plenty even occur to this day, because people know their rights. I want you to know your rights, too. Fuck capitalism." He punctuated the speech with a laugh. Mr. Kelly was definitely one of the cooler characters in this school, one that people were fond up.

But that didn't diminish my desire for class to end, just made the time I had to spend here more bearable. I'd have rather been with Heather, looking into her pretty blue eyes, watching them flit across my face. I wanted to lean in and kiss her softly, and watch her cheeks bloom red and her face light up with joy.

I really wanted to get out of here and dance the night away with her already.

(1043 words)