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Like, Daisy knows she looks like hot snatch. It's hard not to, with all the training and the strict meal plan and the fact that she's actually starting to take notice of her appearance. She sees the looks she gets when she crosses campus, because her daily outfits still consist of pro-team jerseys, oversized hoodies, and gym shorts that do nothing to hide what she's got to show. Daisy knows that people stare, that creepy boys take photos, that her professors roll their eyes as she enters the classroom.
But that absolutely does not mean that Allison gets to stuff her into every tiny little Halloween costume she can find, polyester monstrosities that can barely considered as underwear, let alone something worn to a club filled with drunk, sweaty bodies. First it was a schoolgirl get-up that made them both highly uncomfortable, a nurse's outfit that would not fly in a hospital, and a slutty Mulan ("Reynolds, I'm not even Chinese?"). Then, a vampire ensemble that consisted of a waistcoat, cape, and not much else. The last plastic package thrust at Daisy through the changing room curtain is her final straw.
"Allison," Daisy groans, head poked around the velvet divider. "Why do you insist on torturing me? Haven't I been through enough already?"
The blonde scoffs, waves her hand in dismissal. "Shut up. A Fox is a Fox. I'm just trying to show you, and by extent the world, how sexy you are."
"I don't want anybody to know how sexy I am," whines Daisy, crossing her arms tight over her chest. "I don't even want to go out. Have you ever been to that club? I don't think I've washed the smell off since August."
There are several people to blame in this situation, and Daisy refuses to be one of them. If you get right down to the root of the problem, it's the cousins' fault for working there all those years ago. Why they enjoy going back to the hellhole, Daisy will never figure out. And why Neil and Kevin decide to go with them is a whole other ballpark. But because of this, and because of Dan's ridiculous desire to have a united team, or whatever, she's managed to worm her way into their Halloween plans to try and make truce with them.
Of course, Kevin had also asked Daisy if she was coming, so it's partly his fault too. He's been acting so weird recently, walking with her to class and bringing her lunch. It's almost like it was before... back last spring, back when she wasn't lucid half of the time and he wasn't any wiser. Now, she's far too hyperaware of everything to not notice how he's acting, and it makes her skin crawl to think about. But when he'd picked her up from class yesterday with a milkshake in hand and asked her about the Halloween party, she'd found it very hard to say no.
So now here she is, trying on a thousand ridiculous costumes in the Party City on the edge of campus with Allison definitely snapping pictures every time Daisy cracks the curtain a tiny amount.
"I don't think this is the one, but we're on the right track," Allison announces, a look of sadistic glee painted on her perfect features. " The colour isn't right, but your ass looks incredible. We can just get a padded bra to help with the top end--"
"--hey!--"
"Daisy, the less you wear, the more Day will like it, and the more money I rake in at the end of the night," the blonde carries on, ignoring Daisy's protests. "Once we fix your hair, it'll all match, and he'll cream his pants at the smell of you."
"Allison," Daisy whines, leaning against the wall of the cubicle. She feels incredibly exposed, in nothing more than a leotard that leaves nothing to the imagination. "Please."
"You can wear some tights," Allison wagers. This is a girl who has never lost an argument, and Daisy Cohen will not be the first to defeat her in battle. "And bring a coat, but you have to take it off at the club..."
Daisy decides now is a good time to dissociate. Allison potters around, gathering accessories for her own costume and things the girls and Matt have requested, so Daisy removes her costume and sits on a bench staring at the floor until the blonde is ready for her.
It's not like she's had a really bad day in a while. The pit in her stomach seems to be quelled for now, and Daisy doesn't feel that pull to sink into it's depths nearly as often as she used to. She supposes that's a win. Betsy seems to think so too. But there's never really any particularly good days either. They're just... neutral. There's no real grief or sadness tugging at her heart, but there's also not much excitement, not much unbridled glee or childish mischief. And Daisy knows that healing is a journey, and she knows that it's going to be a long time before she's any semblance of normalcy. But she really, really wants it to hurry up, because seeing everyone around her feeling a full range of feelings is really making her limited emotional resources deplete quicker.
"Come on," Allison snaps from her side. "Have you-- oh, what's wrong?" Her tone changes in a millisecond, and she reaches out to wipe a wetness from Daisy's cheeks that the girl didn't even notice was there.
"I didn't even realise," says Daisy, to her own shock. "I-- I was just thinking."
"About what?"
She stands, Allison's arm tucked into the crook of her elbow as they make their way out of the store. "I don't know. I wasn't really thinking about anything."
"If you don't want to go this weekend, it's okay," Allison says gently. "I was only kidding when I said you had to go. Well. Half kidding."
But Daisy is nothing if not stubborn, and exists with a constant fear of missing out. So, in response to Allison's pity un-invite, she answers, "Your fashion sense sucks ass since your boyfriend died. I'll figure out my own costume; the drugs didn't make me forget how to look good."
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Ouch, Daisy thinks. And she really does mean it. Because a ball, pelted at full strength from Neil's racquet, just clocked her square in the chest and knocked the wind out of her. Now she's lying flat on the floor, groaning and wheezing as she tries desperately to suck air into the empty cavity within her. Fuck, she thinks.
Somebody offers her a hand up, and a few hard smacks on the back gets Daisy right as rain. There's a commotion from the middle of the court, where Neil's throw had originated, and she squints a little through the sweaty haze over her contact lenses to see Kevin shoving Neil violently.
"--ankle isn't healed properly and you're using her as target practise? Are you shitting me?" she hears him shouting. It's quite comical, really, with all six feet and three inches of Kevin spitting fire and flames towards five-foot-four Neil, who has a mildly bored expression.
"Oh, sorry," Neil scoffs. "Did you want me to not throw it to you while she was defending you? Next time, I'll play the entire game on my own. I mean, that's what wall rebounds are for, right?"
Daisy rolls her eyes so far back into her head that it hurts. This isn't the first time this week that they've had this argument, or some version of it between Kevin and another Fox. On Monday it was Aaron, who'd cracked Daisy's shoulder pad with his racquet while she was scrimmaging in offense. On Tuesday, Dan had turned her back for two seconds while spotting Daisy on the weight racks. Wednesday was a shouting match behind a closed office door between Kevin and Coach on the Cohen girl's behalf, and Thursday he'd apparently given Matt a stern talking to in the change rooms about letting Daisy pick up his slack on court when she's still not 100%.
And the girl has absolutely had enough.
"Shut," she hollers, racquet slung over her shoulder as she stalks towards the arguing pair, "the fuck up. We're playing a fucking half court match and you're acting like it's world championships. Get your dick out of your mouth and get back to first-fourth, Two."
"Cohen--"
"I could not give any less of a shit about what you're about to say," she snaps. Her stick makes it's way from her shoulder into her hands, and she stares at him with her eyebrows raised. He doesn't try again, just mutters curses under his breath as he slinks away to his starting position. She takes her place next to him on the line, and shoots him a hateful look as Dan sets up to serve.
One of the things Daisy Cohen does best in this world is hold a grudge. She's incredible at letting her anger fester, letting that swell of rage take over her stomach and chest and rise into her throat, until it boils over and ruins everybody within a twelve mile radius' day. And this week, the pain that lives within her combined with this stupid Halloween thing combined with Kevin acting like a dick... well. Daisy is doing what Daisy does best.
"Fuck off," she hisses at Kevin when he skids to a halt to stop from crashing into her, letting Daisy catch the shot meant for him and fire it to the other end of the court.
"Fuck off," she shouts at Kevin when she pops the ball from his racquet from ease, when he very easily could have kept his grip.
"Fuck off," she yells at the top of her lungs, at the man who tries to storm over to Dan when she pulls an almost-illegal move on Daisy to get the ball from her. "You're such a stupid fucking cunt--"
Wymack steps between them before Daisy can swing her racquet at the side of Kevin's helmet, reaches out to wrench the stick from her grip and let it fall to the floor with a clatter. "You'd better explain in very simple terms what the hell is going on with you two, or your great-grandchildren will still be owing me laps in a hundred years time."
"I'm trying to keep Cohen on court where she belongs, instead of in Abby's office at the end of every half," Kevin spits, his face contorted in fury as he rips his helmet off to get in her face. "She seems to want to get herself injured."
"I'm perfectly capable of handling myself," Daisy returns. "You've just got a hard-on for being a knight in shining armour. Get a new fucking hobby, Two."
"You think I enjoy this? You've proven time and time again that you actually can't take care of yourself, and somebody has to stop you from kicking it. People who care about you are few and far between. Who else do you have looking out for you, Margaret?"
That ever present pool darkness on Daisy's inside turns immediately to gasoline, sloshing around and rising by the second. Kevin's words are a match thrown at her, and it sets the girl aflame.
She launches herself at him, her fist colliding with the side of his jaw first and the front of his throat next. Kevin stumbles backwards, hands wrapped around his neck as he wheezes for breath, and the team who have been frozen in place spring to action. Daisy is hauled away by the back of her jersey while Kevin is cornered by the upperclassmen. She can see Andrew's eyes on fire, but he doesn't seem interested in returning the favour she gave to Kevin.
"Do you have rocks for brains or do you just enjoy making my job more difficult than it needs to be?"
Daisy stares up at Wymack with death in her eyes, chest still heaving with adrenaline and her toes tapping on the floor. "He started it."
"Jesus Christ, how old are you?" he groans, rubbing both of his hands over his rapidly thinning hair and leaning against the entertainment centre. "I don't give one flying fuck how it started. I don't know what I expected from two kids who raised themselves in shitty environments, but it sure as shit wasn't this."
"Tell him to lay off, and I promise I won't sock him again," Daisy says in a sickly sweet tone. "Is that what you want to hear?"
"What I want to know is why you two are best friends one second, and mortal enemies the next. I get that young love is hard, but it can't be that difficult--"
"We aren't dating," Daisy all but yells, pressing both of her fists into the couch cushion beside her to try alleviate some of the anger radiating through her body. "Everybody thinks we are, and we aren't, and the next person who asks me needs to bite down hard on the curb before I stomp on them."
Wymack scoffs. "Whatever. I don't care what happens behind closed doors, but if you start bringing that shit onto my court, it becomes my business. I can't believe I have to say this to you, but no more punching my Foxes. Especially in the face. God, this is some shit I thought I'd have to say to Andrew," he adds on in a mutter. "Can I trust you to go back out there, or do I need to suspend you for the afternoon?"
Daisy steels her jaw, and imagines that every step back to court she's crushing her sneaker into Kevin's stupid fucking face.
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The blood-haired girl manages to avoid Kevin for the rest of Thursday and most of Friday, until they finally have to face each other back at the Foxhole Court. She's been quietly seething in every free moment, trying to figure out what possessed Kevin to say that cruel shit to her and what she would have said in return had she been given the chance. In her mind, a bank of the harshest insults she can imagine starts to form. All the nastiest shit her brain can muster, things about his upbringing, his trauma, his mother... she knows it's horrible, but deep down, she doesn't really give a shit. The part of her brain that regulates what comes out of her mouth is yet to return from war, and until then, everybody has to deal with the consequences of her non-existent filter.
Kevin tries to speak to her before the game, but Coach conveniently needs to talk to him right at that very second. He tries again on their way up to court, but Daisy steps ahead to talk tactics with Nicky and Matt. There's not another chance until the game is over, but Daisy gets far too caught up in celebrating their win with the girls to care what he has to say to her.
"See," says Allison, carefully removing Daisy's helmet to reveal a thousand curls held to her head with an army of bobby pins. "Aren't you glad we did this before the game, not after? Now you don't even need to worry about it!"
"Allison, I love you," says Daisy, "but I truly could care less about what my hair looks like."
"It's couldn't," says Renee.
"What?"
"You said, could care less. It's couldn't care less. 'Could care less' implies that you care more about your hair than other things."
"Talk to me after I empty my guts," Daisy grumbles, jogging through to the bathroom before the sounds of somebody who really should have eaten more before the match can be heard.
"Did she figure out a costume?" asks Dan as she enters the locker room with her helmet tucked under her arm. "She told me she was going as the Nutty Professor."
"She said she had a Pamela Anderson costume," Renee replies.
Allison's face is turning redder by the second. As she spritzes herself with fragrance, she hisses, "the bitch promised me she had something planned! She'd better not bail now."
Daisy, however, is not worried about any of these things. What she is worried about is facing Kevin, who will most likely be tipsy off his ass by the time the girls and Matt arrive, and trying to ignore his drunk advances like she did last time they were together and he was shitfaced. To hear his backhanded flirting, to actually acknowledge what she knows to be true about their changing friendship... well, Daisy is afraid she won't be able to say no this time.
So, instead of moping about any longer, she decides to let him know where he stands. This kid needs to learn his fucking place, and Daisy is determined to put him there. Breezing past the girls in the locker room and ignoring their calls to her, she bangs her fist on the men's door before walking inside. The Monsters have already cleared off and Matt is drying his hair in the corner.
"Which one is Kevin's locker?" she asks him. Matt frowns, but points her in the right direction. He does wonder what she's up to, advancing towards the locker with a large number 2 painted across the front with a pair of glimmering scissors in hand, but decides to ignore her and instead drape a white toga around his body and leave the girl to do whatever she needs to do. Whatever her healing process looks like, Matt isn't about to get in the way of a sharp object wielded in her grip.
And so, with an oversized hoodie wrapped around her body, Daisy Cohen leaves the stadium satisfied, and with a horrific grin painted across her lips.
"So you just didn't want to get changed in front of us?" Allison snarls as the taller girl swings herself into the backseat of the pink convertible. "Since when do you have any shame?"
"I don't. I just want my costume to be a surprise."
"Can we get a hint?"
Says Daisy, "I'm young, hot, and mildly famous. Isn't that enough to make a good costume out of anything?"
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There's a photo of Daisy Cohen that's stuck on the wall of the entertainment centre in the Foxes locker room, that will stay there for many years to come.
It was snapped by Allison Reynolds on her neon pink digital camera on Halloween of 2006, at the infamous club Eden's Twilight in downtown Columbia. Daisy had waited behind while everybody else entered the club, saying she wanted to get the last of the fresh air outside before being forced into 'Satan's asshole in nightclub form', and then she'd come inside ten minutes later.
In the dim lighting of the photo, all you can really see is Daisy's barely-clothed body, with a sports jersey slashed to show off the underside of a lacy bra, and a tiny pair of gym shorts that show everything off. The photo is of her in this outfit, walking towards the photographer with a shit-eating smirk painted across her face, her eyes focused on something to the left of the camera.
But you couldn't possibly know the historical implications that photo would have, unless you were really there that night.
Daisy stands beside of Allison's pink convertible, staring at her reflection in the darkened window. Fuck, she thinks, is this the worst fucking decision I've ever made in my life? And then she thinks, no, doing copious amounts of heroin and almost ruining my life was, and strides towards the entrance of the club. On her feet, a ridiculous pair of heels that make her calves look skinny and the soles of her feet feel like they're on fire. A pair of tiny orange lycra shorts hardly cover a thing, riding high into her crotch at the front and skimming the crease of her ass cheeks at the back.
But it's her jersey that catches the Foxes attention when she finally finds them in a dark corner of the club. It's bright orange and displays their fox paw emblem on her chest, but when Dan grins and asks her to give them a twirl... well, her team goes absolutely feral.
"DAISY COHEN I KNEW I WAS IN LOVE WITH YOU FROM THE MOMENT WE MET," Allison shrieks, launches herself into Daisy's arms and gives her a harsh squeeze and a wet kiss on the cheek. Dan, Renee, and Matt are all in states of shock and amusement, but it's the Monsters reaction that Daisy is really wanting to see.
Neil looks vaguely amused, but he's never really cared about anything other than himself so Daisy truly didn't expect more. Nicky's jaw is agape, Aaron snorts into his drink, and Andrew just stares.
But Kevin. Kevin Kevin Kevin.
Hacked at violently with a pair of shears so that it grazes over a black lace bralette that leaves nothing to the imagination, a jersey with the remnants of a number two and the embroidered name 'Day' wraps around her top half.
"Hey," says Daisy, and that's all it takes for Kevin to lurch out of his seat, wrap an iron grip around the girl's forearm, and drag her away from the group. She lets herself be pulled around the edges of the dancefloor, looking up at him through her eyelashes and tottering along in her stupid high heels behind him.
When he shoves her up against a wall, his eyes already hazy with alcohol, she just blinks at him. "What the fuck are you doing?"
Daisy puffs out a breath through pouted lips. "What do you mean? It's Halloween, I'm in my costume."
"Oh yeah?" scoffs Kevin, stepping backward and crossing his arms over his chest. "Dressed as what, exactly?"
"Somebody who Kevin Day thinks he owns," Daisy answers plainly. "Duh."
"I-- what? I don't think I own you, when have I ever said I own you?" he demands.
Daisy rolls her eyes, steps forward to get into his space. In her heels, they're almost equal in height. She's consciously aware that she towers over every woman in this club, and most of the men too. And Daisy Cohen at six-foot-two is something truly to behold, especially Daisy Cohen at six-foot-two jabbing a finger into Kevin Day's chest with smoke pouring out of her ears.
"Since you've decided to make every aspect of my life your business," she hisses. "All you do is run around after me, making sure I'm wrapped in bubble wrap and can't be touched by the air, let alone another player. And what you said the other day... that was just fucking mean. It was nasty."
He seems to soften, but his words still have bite. "I didn't mean it how it came out. I-- sometimes it sounds better in my head."
"Whatever," she mutters. "I'm going to hang out with the girls."
But he catches her arm as she's passing, and without the rage in his grip this time, her skin tingles at his touch. She turns on her heel and he's there, his face an inch away from hers, and her inky eyes drop instinctively to his lips and then flicker back to his eyes. When his green irises do the same, she takes a step backward.
"I'm sorry," he says, and she can tell he means it. "I don't want you to get hurt. I-- I care about you, however hard that might be to believe."
She gives him a smile, a real smile this time. "I know. I care about you too. But stay out of my fucking game, Day."
Where she'd stepped backward to make space between them, he takes a step to close the distance. Daisy can smell whiskey on his breath, can see the goosebumps rising on his neck despite the heat of the club around them. Somehow, in the most public arena, she feels so incredibly secluded. They could do anything here, and nobody would know any different.
"You're drunk," she says to him, both hands planted firmly on his chest to stop him from falling any closer. "And you're dressed like the grim reaper."
"You're sexy," he counters, knocking all of the air from Daisy's body, "and you're wearing my clothes."
It doesn't happen very often, even less so now that her mind is free of her drug-fuelled haze, but Daisy is completely lost for words. She hesitates, watches a smirk take over Kevin's face as he pushes away from her and strides across the club.
She wants to kill him. She wants to fuck him. She wants to wrap her hands around his throat and whisper sweet nothings into his ear until he runs out of air. She wants to smash her lips into his and never pull away.
Most of all, she wants to ruin his life.
And ruin it she goddamn will.
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hehe halloween chapter!!! hope y'all liked this, i definitely enjoyed writing it!! the next chapter is absolutely filthy, there will be a content warning attached to it and honestly it deserves it. pls let me know ur thoughts n feelings, i love reading every single one of your comments, it makes my heart feel so full ❤️❤️❤️