It's Complicated (Catradora Highschool Au)

Chapter 1: Adora

*Warning: if homophobia or drinking triggers you please don't read. *

My eyes flutter open to the harsh sound of my alarm clock.

6:30 am. 30 minutes till I have to be on my way to school. The thought makes my stomach feel funny; a strange mixture of nerves and excitement.

First day of Junior Year. Why am I so nervous? I mean I've been in high school for what? Three years now? I can do this. It's just another year.

But...as much as I try to push it away something still feels...I dunno peculiar about this year. I try my best to ignore it. It is probably just my nerves.

I check my phone before getting dressed.

5 messages from Glimmer.

1 missed call from Glimmer.

I sigh and check the messages. "What's going on this time." I mumble.

2:00 am: OMG Adora!!! You will never believe what just happened!!!

2:10 am: Please tell me you aren't sleeping. LAME.

2:30 am: Um...Adora I'm starting to get worried.

3:00 am: HELLLLLLLO?!

4:30 am: Guess, I'm going to bed. Talk to ya tomorrow, sleepyhead.

The truth? I was awake the whole time Glimmer was texting. But I was in no shape to communicate. I had another one of my dreams. The ones that mess me up for hours after I wake up.

The one where a set of mischievous hetero-chromatic eyes always follow me into.

I sigh and run my hands through my tangled hair.

"It doesn't matter, Adora. Everything that happened doesn't matter. It's not like you'll see her again anyways." I mumble the reassurance to myself. The same old line that I have been telling myself for two years.

I feel the anxiety rising in my chest again, like it always does when I think about her. I take a deep breath.

"Just focus on the positive."

I get out of bed and head to my closet. I pick out a long-sleeved Maroon colored crop top and a denim skirt. I put on some black lace up boots and a Jean Jacket so I can cover up my exposed torso when Miss.Weaver sees me.

She would pitch a fit if she knew the length of my shirt. And give me a whole speech about modesty and how boys won't respect you if you show skin. If only she knew that boys aren't who I am trying to win over.

I examine myself in the mirror. This is not something that I would usually wear but Bow insisted on it and I have to admit it doesn't look bad.

I pull my glossy blond hair into my signature ponytail; exposing my undercut. Miss.Weaver wasn't very happy when she found out about that either.

I grab my phone and backpack and then head downstairs.

Miss.Weaver is sitting on the couch; bottle of Jack Daniel's in hand. I sigh.

"You told me that you were trying." She looks back at me and scoffs.

"Trying for what? Be more specific, Adora." Her words slur badly.

"You told me that you were trying to stay sober." She clutches her bottle to her chest and looks down at it; remorse and anger fill her emerald green eyes.

"Well, I say a lot of things. Your what 16? You should be fine to take care of yourself every once and awhile."

I feel anger mix in with my anxiety. My fingernails dig into my palms. I take a deep breath and try to keep my tone respectful and steady.

"But it's not every once and awhile it is almost every day now, Miss.Weaver I need you to- "She cuts me off.

"Silence. I am the adult here." Though her voice is shaky her tone still manages to be menacing. I gulp.

"Now, let's drop the subject, Adora. I would hate for you to go to school with such a negative mindset." I sigh through my nose.

"Yes Ma'am." The anger is still raging but I force it down and switch my mind to the day ahead.

I grab a cup of Yogurt and head for the door.

"Spinerella and Netossa tie the knot in New York City with a beautiful and inspirational ceremony." The lady on the news proclaims happily.

I wince at the words and what I know is coming. Miss.Weaver quickly switches the channels.

"So, stupid. Why do they think this is okay? Being gay is wrong and disgusting. I'm so happy that you are normal and not caught up in all of that stupid, Adora."

My heart pounds in my chest. My face feels warm. I feel the anxiety close in on me; making each breath a little harder.

"Yes, Ma'am." Is all I say before walking out of the house.

If only she knew.

As soon as I step outside, I feel like I can breathe again. Being in that house with her...feels like one huge cage. One that I have to stay in constantly around her. I can never be myself. I can never speak my mind, or express how I really feel. But it's how I get by. It's how I've gotten by these past two years without her...Catra.