polarize :: [hood]

[i.ii. go for it]

"I'm in your space, what does it take...?"
___

On Sunday, Royce Greene is a mother-fucking wreck.

Her words.

First of all, she's drowning in unanswered math problems.

Secondly, Calum Hood is coming over to her house.

What?

No.

Calum Hood is supposed to be nowhere near the place she lives, and now, now at this point not only would he have dropped her off, but he'd be stepping foot inside her place.

He'd be inside her kitchen.

Or, he'd be inside her bedroom.

No.

She wouldn't allow him near her bedroom.

Didn't stop her from cleaning it up, though.

"Whoa," Paige laughs, as she leans against the doorframe and watches Royce make her bed and pick up all her shit. "Is bae coming over in fifteen minutes to Netflix and chill?"

Royce pauses, clothes in her arms. "Ha ha."

Paige lifts her brows. "You shave, y'know...down there?"

Royce's jaw falls. "Fuck you, Paige!"

She breaks out into laughter.

That was the third thing.

Royce's family needed to get the fuck out of the house.

It was 11:20 and Paige hadn't left yet, since she was waiting on Jesy to pick her up. Her dad had yet to take Tobe to his cello practice and her mom, the only person who'd be even remotely unbiased and relaxed when - if - ever meeting Calum, had a spa day she hadn't gone to because she was digging around the house for her keys.

Royce needed her family to get the fuck out of her house because this was really just pushing things too far for her liking.

"I'm only teasing, Pops," sighs Paige as Royce continues to pick up the shit around her room. "But seriously," she stares at her manicure, as Royce wonders when the hell her sister's going to finally get out and go. "Who's coming over, huh?"

Royce decidedly doesn't look her sister's way, as she slowly bends over and picks her cheerleading uniform from the floor beside her desk.

"Uh..." She pauses, purposefully shaking out the skirt and folding it. She smooths out the pleats, still keeping her eyes on the fabric and not her big sister, who's staring expectantly, awaiting her answer.

"No one important," she finishes, finding the tank top, now. "It's just..." She shrugs, "Just some smart kid from my math class," and she employs the same tactic that she did with her friends, changing the subject. "I think, no wait, I know if I don't get help I'm gonna fail."

Paige laughs, "You're a straight-A student, Poppy. You're not gonna fail anything."

"Try explaining that to my brain when it comes to rate of change," Royce mutters, and Paige laughs again, backing out of the room.

"Alright, alright," she says, "Fuck math, anyway. You shoulda took Statistics. That's the easiest class offered in this school."

"Yeah, 'cause Father David's a fuckin' pushover without a backbone."

"So? An easy A is an easy A. Just ask Heather Prynne."

"Hester. It's Hester Prynne, Paige. Jesus," Royce laughs, shaking her head. "Did you read that book? I know you had to read The Scarlet Letter freshman year."