𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐈𝐭 ✸ 𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐧

[ 009 ] the meathead's identity

            The two girls began walking down the hallway, weaving through the crowd of their fellow students, hands still clasped together. Every few seconds, in order to avoid crashing into some football player who refused to move out of the way, Hazel would slide in behind Nell and allow the girl to lead her past until she could safely step back out beside the Hewitt girl.

            As they walked, Nell nodded her head in agreement with Hazel's statement. "Yeah, same. How was it when you went home?"

A groan slipped out of Hazel's mouth as she threw her head back slightly in annoyance. "Horrible. My mom was up all night fucking that guy. I didn't get any sleep." She complained with a roll of the eyes. For a moment, she'd actually forgotten how tired she truly was.

"You could have come back over. My dad wouldn't have minded." Nell stated with shrug of the shoulders. Her dad honestly wouldn't have cared less if Hazel had stayed over. As long as neither of them were doing drugs, the Callahan girl could probably stay under his roof until they graduated.

"If it keeps up, I might take you up on that offer." The two stopped just beside the entrance to Hazel's history class. A class they didn't share. Hazel's eyes widened as she realised what she'd just said. Immediately she uttered, "If that's okay with you, obviously."

"It's more than okay." The Hewitt girl promised. A sweet smile pulled at her lips as she gave Hazel's hand a gentle squeeze in what she hoped was taken as a comforting gesture. "I gotta get to class but I'll see you later on, okay?"

In what seemed like a bold move to both girls despite what had occurred between the pair not even twenty-four hours prior, Nell pressed her lips upon Hazel's cheek, pecking lightly upon the blushed flesh. Before either could question it, the bell overhead rang out signally the beginning of class and the ending of their conversation.

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            A DISGUSTED EXPRESSION HAD become etched upon Eleanor Hewitt's face when she learned of the way the club would be attempting to raise money. They were going to be selling the underwear of the cheerleaders to gross and obviously perverted older men.

Not that she judged them or anything like whatever floats your boat but the fact that they were so obviously salivating over the girls as they entered the parking lot where they had all agreed to hold their fundraiser had the Hewitt girl's nose turned up.

An excited giggle fell from the lips of Stella-Rebecca. The girl was genuinely so proud of the group and the gathering of men they had managed to get. "First club fundraiser. I'm so excited. Great turn-out, right?"

"This is quite possibly the grossest thing we've ever done." Nell confessed with a defeated sigh, folding her arms across her chest. She knew that they needed funds and well, a self defence club for girls? Who in their town would give money to that cause alone?

Their football obsessed town. Their football players obsessed town. Their town that literally defended the bullying of women seen as less than? Yeah, their best option was to sell old underwear no matter how gross it was.

A faint groaning caused Nell to glance down at the source of the sound, her eyes landing upon a curled up Hazel on the asphalt as Isabel awkwardly chuckled. "I don't know why anyone wants my old, dirty underwear. It's so weird." The pink dress wearing, curly haired girl stated with a soft smile before talking the box of her old underwear from Josie and making her way over to the men.