You don't set your ex-best friend up, especially one you're still completely smitten with, with your arch enemy. But of course, there's no fun in always knowing better, and there's no one that knew that better than Alexandra Stewart.
...
"I hate the beach, but I stand, in California with my toes in the sand." ~Sweater Weather, James Harris.
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Turns out, there was a demon waiting for Daisy reached home. At her doorstep. A demon with blonde hair, striking eyes as silver as the knife you know will cut you if you get too close, and a smile too akin to one of a Cheshire cat.
Daisy stopped in her steps and glanced down at the one blocking her way, "What do you want, Deborah?"
Deborah Michaels was someone everyone was up against, or ended up being up against. You would either be a part of the crowd that tried targetting every move she took, or you would become her sidekick first, be betrayed second, and join the crowd third. Every week, she'd have someone new by her side, and the next, that someone would end up drowning in their own sweat, blood and tears.
Deborah stood up, her head at level with Daisy's. Her eyes were as cold as ever, freezing Daisy into place the moment they fell on hers. She smiled tightly, "I need to tell you something, and it can't wait."
She sighed tiredly, "Look, I've got no information for you whatsoever, and I've had a really shitty evening, so I'm no- hey!"
Should've expected her to not give a flying fuck about Daisy's words. She snatched the key from her hand, and went inside. What the fuck? That was usually the only sentence engraved in her thoughts when she was around Deborah. She had always admired that about her, though. While you'd imagine someone like her to be a oh-high-heel-stilettos-and-hot-pink-high-pitched pouty mean girl that flipped her hair right into your fucking face, she wore pjs to school, got an A grade in her favorite subjects, and her art stood her out more than anything.
Oh fuck this.
"Deborah!" Daisy ran after her, out of fear that she might snoop around and find something Daisy wouldn't want her to find. "You're in my territory, you snake. Try not to slither over my pee, if you wish to live."
(A/N: Animals pee around their territory. I wish humans could do that too tho, it sounds fun.)
"God, Daizit. The shit you say is almost as weird as the piece of it you are." Deborah cut through with her steely voice. Everything about her screamt inconsiderate, and fucking cold. It reminded her too much of someone Deborah stole away from her.
And of course she called her Daizit. She was the one that popped her zit in middle school after all.
Deborah strutted in like she was walking on the fucking red carpet, and seated herself down on Daisy's bed. The latter had no choice but to walk back and sit down on the loveseat. "What do you want, Michaels?"
