❝People do bad things when they're trying to survive.❞
. . • ☆ . ° .• -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-°:. *₊ ° .
In which a plane crash brings together Tatum Axel and Vanessa Palmer, providing the girls with new perspectives on the other that never would've happened ot...
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II. WARPED PERFECTION
Tatum had splashed water on her face to fully sober up. She had almost forgotten about her tutoring session with Van—again—but she made sure that she showed up.
She shoved her Calculus book into her bag as she slung it over her shoulder. The brunette walked out to the benches, and as she approached the field, Tatum saw Van sitting on the grass, staring off into the distance. Tatum whistled, effectively catching Van's attention.
She smiled warmly as the brunette as she stood up quickly.
"Hey," Van said, wiping a hand against her jersey top.
"Hi." Tatum replied, her tone soft and curt. She gripped the strap of her bag tighter. There was a beat of silence as the wind filled the air, whooshing and gently shaking the surrounding trees that framed the field.
Tatum was nervous. She wasn't sure why, and she blamed Natalie's shitty alcohol on her sweaty palms.
"Are you ready?" The brunette asked a moment later, her head slightly jerking towards the exit. Van's eyes followed her line of vision as she nodded.
The two usually did their sessions at school—in an empty classroom or outside if it was nice out, but today they decided to go to Tatum's house.
It was only a fifteen minute walk, and Tatum hoped it wouldn't be too awkward. The two walked in silence for a few moments as the sun began its descent across the horizon.
Tatum was slightly humming to herself as she pulled the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands, trying to block out the breeze. Van pulled her hoodie over her head.
The two turned the corner, a few suburban blocks that all looked vaguely similar ahead of them.
"I have no idea where we're going, so I'll let you lead the way." Van spoke after a moment, her hands stuffed in her pockets as she chuckled.
Tatum turned her head slightly in Van's direction, meeting her eyes. She offered a warm smile and a shrug.
"Yeah, don't worry. It's not much farther."
The silence was comfortable, with Tatum focused on the sound of her shoes hitting the pavement. She had been totally in her own head until Van's voice rang out.
"You're going to the party tomorrow, right?" She asked, fiddling with a strand of red hair.
Tatum hummed. "Yeah, are you?"
"Yeah."
"What are you thinking of wearing?" Tatum asked after a moment, trying to pick out an appropriate outfit in her head. She practically had her closet memorized.
Van seemed to think her answer over.
"I have a few ideas, but I haven't decided yet. Honestly? I might just wear my soccer jersey."
