Bane

October 5, 1993

"Yeah, but you know what? Hard part's done, Gina. We have this year, and next year, and then high school is over. College is a lot more forgiving for people like us."

"People like us? We're just people, Amnesia."

"Most don't see it that way, Gina. They may never. I'll see you in class tonight."

"Yeah. Get that heavy bag ready. I'm gonna need it."

"You know it." Amnesia pulled her backpack from her locker, shut the door, and hefting it over her shoulder, she gave Gina a halfhearted smile, and then left.

Gina clenched her fists, heat rushing into her cheeks. She screamed and punched her locker, leaving a fist deep dent in the steel door. Gina sighed, and rolled her eyes. She pulled at the locker, but it only opened halfway. She pushed it closed, but the new dent in the door creased it that she could not close it. "Figures."

Gina cracked her neck, and stretched. Brenna made her so angry, and for only the most obvious reasons. Brenna would have been outed with her, had she not lied for the stupid girl. Mrs. Phelps caught them kissing when the locker room was supposed to be empty, and that was freshman year. Brenna denied her part in it, and Gina accepted responsibility. It all went down hill from there. Brenna had to keep face, and the lie compounded. Suddenly Gina was suspended two weeks for sexual harassment.

...because she was an idiot for Brenna; because love made you do stupid things... like letting Brenna over to study, or sleep over; because love, if that's what you call it, made her a moron; because even now, she'd drop everything, and run to her if she needed help. Brenna was weak, and Gina was strong, and the weak would always follow the flock... even if the flock was a mask, a lie, a fucking goddamn facade that Brenna would eventually drop one day. One day, when that one day was too late, and Gina was no longer there to love her.

She sighed, and put her forearm up to her locker, squeezed her eyes shut, and wept into it. Gina felt her cheeks flush again, a second wave of anger rushing through her. At least tonight in class, she could focus that anger in a positive way. Some sparring, some forms, an hour or two with the heavy bag, and she would feel just fine.

Just fine.

✟ ☧ ✟

Cameron sat at his usual lunch table by the quad. The Quad. A budget saving span of grassy field - well kept, yes - in place of a budget consuming auditorium, where the school held assemblies, award ceremonies, and where the wannabe hippies ate lunch on tattered sheets, blankets, or homemade hand knitted throws.

"Move over." Gina sat down, pushing Cameron in a space on the bench.

"Easy." Cameron moved himself further in. Gina's eyes were red rimmed, and bloodshot. "Hey babe, you okay?"

"Don't call me babe Cameron. That ship sailed a long time ago."

"You're sixteen. I'm fifteen. There's no such thing as 'a long time ago', G. What's wrong?"

"Brenna Pfeiffer." Gina wiped a cheek.

"What about Brenna Pfeiffer?"

"She's such a douche bag."

"Want some spaghetti? I've got school spaghetti."

Gina fought a smile, failed, and took Cameron's plate, and then his fork. She took a bite. "I don't know why I let her get to me."

"Maybe if you let me watch you two interact, I mean really get in there, maybe for a sleepover..."

Gina put the fork down, and punched Cameron in the shoulder. "You're such a dog!"