Chapter 4

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A/N: Warning for heavily implied bulimia and using the word 'dyke' offensively, I guess.

Also, my headcanon is that Lauren was a little small when she came to high school, then had a (very late) growth spurt. This appears a lot in this story.

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October 2011

Another week, another practice. Lauren can hardly believe she's managed to get through a month of school already. Between classes, family, friends and Cole breathing down her neck, it's amazing she hasn't just collapsed from exhaustion yet.

Today she's once again the last to get in the shower. It escapes her notice how quickly everyone left in the first place; she's too busy nursing her sore, aching body, which barely lets her move to raise her arms and take off her clothes. Halfway through trying to struggle out of her shirt she just gives up, finding it too painful. At least it's an after school practice – she can shower at home.

Just as she eases her shirt back down over her head, she feels what are unmistakably hands on her shoulders for a second, before they push her back forcefully and make her collide, hard with the wall behind her. Although she manages to prevent her head banging against the tiles, her bare back still hits it painfully and scrapes along its rough surface. To add insult to injury, Lauren also can't move her arms down thanks to the suddenly resistant material of her Cheerios shirt trapping her in.

She wrestles valiantly until the top is pulled down enough to finally allow her to see who the hell is holding it. To little surprise she finds Kelly keeping her at bay with her forearm laid across Lauren's collarbone, leaning down until their faces are inches from each other's.

'Get off me,' Lauren snarls with more bravery than she feels. She's well aware how idiotic she looks right now with her shirt wrapped around her shoulders, leaving her chest exposed to all the giggling cheerleaders. Even so, she's not going to cower like a loser, especially in front of someone like Kelly, despite how defenceless and humiliated she feels.

Kelly just raises an eyebrow. She digs her elbow into Lauren's shoulder slightly, pressing painfully on the hard bone of her clavicle. 'Jauregui, c'mon. Don't be like that. We're friends, aren't we?'

'We're as friendly as I am to the mud on the soles of my shoes,' Lauren shoots back. It may be the wrong thing to say, considering the head cheerleader has the advantage of about 4 inches of height and a year or two more of Cheerios training to add to her strength. But Lauren is just too tired, too grumpy, too sick of the social hierarchy of the cheerleading squad to take this crap today.

'Jauregui, Jauregui. You might as well listen to me, or this'll be a lot more painful than necessary.'

'I thought I told you to get off me.'

'All I want is some help,' says Kelly patiently, ignoring her. 'Since you're small and kinda geeky looking, you're the perfect person to do this little job for me. No one will suspect you of anything.'

'What job?'

'Well, let's just say my friends and I have a test coming up, and we need answers to it. So what you're going to do is find Miss Peacock's classroom, saunter right in, and get them for us.' Kelly smiles at her. It's far too smug and doesn't reach her eyes.

'I'm not helping you.'

'Too bad, you don't have a choice.' Kelly smile turns grim. She pulls the shirt down properly. For a second the room goes dark before Lauren emerges through the head hole and is able to move her arms again. 'Or maybe I'll just go find your little friend in the disgusting argyle sweaters and make her do it for me, hm?'

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