Bright Moon Coffee Co.

pt.4

Is she trying to look like a boy? No. No, that doesn't sound right. But she's definitely not trying to look overly... girly, either. What the hell is she doing?

'You what, Gayskull? Looking up our skirts not enough for you? What a fucking joke. You shouldn't be in here if you're trying so hard to look like a boy now. Maybe you should just put your stuff in the hallway, cause the boys won't want you either you homo sla—'

'FUCK OFF!'

Adora's eyes immediately go wide. She whirls around, fully prepared to apologise for her outburst, but the look on the face of– of... Girl A standing across the locker room, surrounded by her posse, gives her pause to reconsider.

'You want to say that again, Gayskull?'

Adora takes a breath, squares her shoulders, and fixes Girl A with a glare. Yeah, normally she'd back down. Normally, she'd never have said anything at all, just tried to ignore it and move on (it never worked). Today, though... today, the girl she liked said yes to go on a date with her. Today was special and, frankly, Adora was sick of the sight of Girl A. 'I said shut the fuck up, you homophobic piece of SHIT!'

It felt good.

That is, until Girl A's fist connected with her face.

Adora stumbled backwards, hitting her head on the lockers and sliding down them to land on the tiled floor in an uncomfortable heap.

Girl A and her followers quickly fled, most of them whispering things like "what the fuck was that" and "holy shit you're mental runrunrun".

But one girl stayed behind.

Adora looked up at her, vaguely aware of the pain from hitting her head as well as the ache under her eye where no doubt a tasty bruise was forming. What will Catra think? The leftover girl seemed unsure of what to do, looking after her friends as if to follow but glancing back down at Adora just as much.

'Are you okay?' She whispered down toward the vaguely body shaped heap on the floor, almost as if she's afraid that she'd be caught staying behind and seemingly showing care for the– the... girl (?) who her leader just punched in the face. 'I'm sorry about... y'know...'

Adora swallowed down the cry that she knew her body wanted to sing, and held back her tears while looking up at the girl. 'I'm fine,' she croaked, definitely not sounding fine.

'Blondie, my office, now.'

Adora turned to face the entrance of the locker room, where her coach now stood with an unreadable expression on her face. She wasn't looking at Adora, though, instead her attention was focused on the girl that'd stayed behind—almost as if she was surprised to still see her there. 'I want to see you afterwards too, you're going to tell me everything that happened. Bring Adora an ice pack too, for her eye.'

The girl (Adora kind of wanted to know her name now, maybe she'd speak to her after to thank her for her concern) stood up a little straighter and did her best to look Coach in the eye despite the intensity of the gaze she was being fixed with, 'yes, Coach.'

Coach just nodded, looking back down at Adora with what seemed halfway between an apologetic expression and a scowl. 'Come on, on your feet. You're not in trouble, but you do have a game soon. Chop chop.'

Adora pushed herself up from the floor, following Coach from the room while looking down at the floor. She offered the girl (Adora would definitely ask her name later, so she could thank her properly) a small smile and a nod, which the girl returned. That helped to lighten Adora's mood a little, at least.