Hit Like A Girl ━━ CALLAHAN

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Calliope's not sure why Isabel went back to that no good, cheating scumbag, but there's only so much advice she can give her. With all the secrets being exposed, she didn't want to overstep and stick her nose in matters that weren't her business.

She only hoped one day she would finally come to her senses and be done with him, for good.

Honestly, the highlight of her week was when the final bell of the day rang out and school was out of session. Everyday this week she and the fight club girls --minus PJ and Josie because A. they were fighting, and B. the rest of the girls hated them for starting the club with a lie and well, spectacularly lying to them ten times over-- would head to Hazel's to check in on her.

It broke her heart every time to see her suffering or in any sort of pain, but as the days went on she slowly but surely started to recover. Her wounds healed, her black and swollen shut eye faded and re-opened, and she no longer had to wear the splint on her nose.

By Thursday she was getting back on her feet and able to things on her own again, and then Calliope woke up the next morning to a text from Hazel. She sent it to their David Fincher club group chat --Sylvie's idea of making a new club-- telling them they didn't have to come over because she was feeling better and will be at the game with them tomorrow.

And speaking of, Saturday was the heavily anticipated game, and Calliope has been brewing up a plan all week. She knows they'd already gotten revenge on Jeff when they blew up his car, but after what they did to Hazel last week, that revenge was not enough to satisfy her rage. Jeff, Tim, and Tucker all needed to pay for what the stunt they pulled.

And she had the perfect revenge plot.

During her last period when the hallway was cleared out, she walked out of the building and made her way to the parking lot. She opened the trunk of her yellow Volkswagen and a smirk naturally came to her features as she laid eyes on what's inside, red paint. Bags of it. After her visits at Hazel's with the fight club girls, she's been buying cans of paint from the art store.

She was going old school with her revenge, and since the idea of using pig's blood is revolting to her, she decided crimson red paint would be a perfect substitution. She's spent every night this week on YouTube watching diy's on how to do this prank correctly, and now she's ready to set her plan into action.

She grabs the bags as well as the equipment she needs to set them up, and she shoves them into her backpack and slams her trunk shut. Then she walks back towards the building to the entrance doors, she pulled her hood over her head as well as a pair of dark sunglasses and pushed the double doors open.

She works as fast as she can as she stops at each boy's locker, thanks to Annie who helped her out without needing any further explanation, she had the boy's locker combinations and getting in was fairly easy with a minimum amount of tries. She sets up the traps inside the lockers and closed them with ease, and just as she finished the bell rang and students were exiting their classrooms and entering the hallway.

She hiked her bag up her shoulder as she walked to her own locker, she opens it and stuffs her items she dumped out back inside. When she closed her locker shut and pulled both her bag straps over her shoulders she heard commotion, gasps of shock, a chorus of laughter, and a high pitched squeal coming from down the hallway.

A smirk grows on her lips as she pulled down her hood and removed her glasses, she moved closer to see her hard earned work pay off. Right down the hallway were Jeff, Tim, and Tucker, all covered head to toe in crimson red paint.

It was... quite a sight to see.

The three boys with their angered and shocked expressions, Tucker going almost feral with rage as he ripped the locker door off it's hinges. --Okay, seriously, is that guy even human?-- Jeff who looks five seconds away from crying in his stained football gear. And Tim who's whipping paint everywhere as he attempts to rid himself of it.