C A S S I D Y
❝ i heard that you've been having some trouble finding your place in this world. ❞
— unknown.
Ingrid and Mia adopted me into their perfect duo in no time. However, they seem quite adamant on their views of the students at the top of the social pyramid. I still have not been able to discover why though. I simply just presume that there must have been a series of unfortunate incidents.
However, I had gradually learned the exact social standings of everyone according to them. The system isn't a confirmed one, some people slink in a few different places, but the top is well-known.
I wasn't too unknown around the grounds either but that was plainly because of my new-girl status and my brother. They don't see any new students ever around here, and when they do, they take a long time to blend in and to get rid of the title.
It appeared that Connor had
"What's wrong with my brother?" I ponder, while we sat in our usual table outside during lunch, "He's just doing what his own thing."
We were currently discussing on why he shouldn't join the top of the social ladder. I would find it especially beneficial if he did. It would equal classified information and behaviour that the typical students wouldn't know about.
Although it would take a bit of coaxing first.
Most people here did their own things, not quite throwing themselves in other people's businesses. There were some exceptions - some girl questioned what my old school was located and if I could show her some of the class pictures for a visualization as she kindly put it.
Connor did join the basketball team; I'm supposed to find a job to stay out of the house soon. It wouldn't take very long for him to start inviting people over - mainly, his new friends.
The heads of the food chain here.
"Connor is hot and since he's related to you, so I'm going to give you a piece of advice. You don't mess around with the people here," Ingrid states coolly, setting down her Sprite can.
"Oh lord, he is not that good looking," I groan loudly while snorting out in disbelief.
"He kind of is," Mia laughs lightly, before patting my shoulder sympathetically.
Ingrid wagged her eyebrows at me. "Well, on to the important matters- no offense to looks of course, but there's too much dirt in that group."
"Dirt?" I perked up ever so slightly. If it was one thing I learned, sometimes situations happen which pushes people to commit guilty actions out of the ordinary that they typically wouldn't do normally.
"For starters, Chase and Skye have been together since they were children. You know always loved each other kind of shit? That's them. This must be their third year together."
"What's peculiar about that? I mean except for the obvious part of 'Wow, that's a lot of dedication'." I cock my head, contemplating the sentences, not finding a single error in them.
"For starters, there's a rumour that Chase's best friend is into her," she deadpans.
"Are you serious?" I gape in sheer surprise. "But wait. . . if they were friends, wouldn't he know that? Maybe the rumour is false. They usually are."
I furrow my brows, assessing the new information. It was one thing for a rumour to be accurate and another to be based on a simple data. Plus, it wasn't like Chase was doing anything particularly alarming to fuel that theory.
"I don't think it's true," Mia offered softly. "But your brother would be better off away from them. Kaiden, one of the few people on top of the food chain, is kind of scary. The way he looks at everyone else other than his friends is - how to I describe -. . ."
"Deadly. It's like he's either boring into your soul, trying to figure you out or just disinterested," Ingrid bluntly cuts in rather helpfully.
"Connor should befriend the other jocks instead. Some of them are incredibly nice. "
Mia fumbles with the end of her straw quietly, her upper lip curled slightly up. She was probably thinking at the moment. Sometimes, she did that. Ingrid usually brushed it off and continued to talk enough for the both of them.
I do suppose that this was the challenges of making new friends. There often seemed to be times when the two would be chuckling over some insider jokes, or giving looks rather than speaking. I miss how it used to be.
"It might not be true, but Mia's right. There's a lot of things going on there that you don't want to get involved with," Ingrid sighed placidly before shrugging her shoulders.
"You guys have been hurt right?" I recalled the first encounter at this table on my first day.
"Yeah, and it wasn't pretty. We'd never go back to that position," Ingrid forcibly breathes out. There's a fast flash of rage that engulfs her face, before it melts into a mixture of defeat.
I wanted to find what exactly had occurred that shattered every positive and optimistic point of view they had for the people at the top.
"Come on, let's go back inside. I want to get my textbooks before my Bio class begins." Mia stood up, brushing the dust off the back of her red plaid skirt, before throwing the rest of her garbage away. She rested a hand on Ingrid's arm and shot the latter a small look.
Ingrid silently followed suit without another word, but there was an expression plastered deep on her face. It contorted her facial features into a more sullen and empty look.
I fixed my ponytail, before peering at both of them inquisitively. We all have secrets to hide anyways.
Mia's locker was located at the end of the hall, near the PE area, which was definitely unfortunate. It almost always stunk of sweaty people and too much body spray. On Mondays, I could usually sniff out vanilla before it transformed into some chemical, musky scent.
There's a lone figure roaming around the halls, most likely heading for her locker before more people walk in and crowd up the entire place. Although, it does seem much too late for that; loud laughter emits the nearly empty hallway.
But suddenly, the air is filled with a crackling tension, and I feel a shiver of horror freeze in my bones. Please no.
"What—?" I croak out in confusion, not wanting to believe what was going to unfold in front of my eyes.
"No, not again."
"Again?" I hiss out, before making my way to the scene in brisk footsteps.
"Yeah," Ingrid grumbles out, "some of the volleyball girls get bitchy this team of year, and they tend to take it out on the people with known connections to other schools. It's pretty stupid but rivalries are terrible."
I did remember Mia mentioning about the stakes being high around here with the few high schools and the love of sports crowding the place. It seems as if technology wasn't as huge as the inspiration of doing physical and outdoor things.
"But she doesn't even look like she can fight back." I analyze the situation, wincing when I see people approaching the lone girl cowering against a nearby locker.
There was an absolute look of terror plastered on her face. She blanched when they narrowed in on her like predators finding their meal.
The clean, pristine floors that once pleasantly shocked me, now made me sick to my stomach pondering over how many people have fell victims to stressed out team players.
"Oh they started their next attack? I imagine that the freshman are going wild with the idea of getting involved with rivalries," a boy calls out from behind.
I visibly stiffen, startled out how quietly he managed to make his way towards us.
His dirty blonde hair was swept back, and there was an engrossed expression on his face. His eyes fixated on the scene before us - the girls had started talking.
"That's your girlfriend getting bullied," Ingrid sneers with conviction and blatant disgust. "Those are the people you hang out with doing that shit."
"I tried to stop them," he nonchalantly protests; his face lacking a single sliver of emotion. It was as if he knew what was happening and didn't even care to do anything about it.
"You're weak, Matthews."
"Who cares? At least I'm not the one whose the target." His glance briefly meets mine, and I, imperceptibly narrow my eyes. "She'll find a way to survive, besides, we're not exclusive anyways."
"I can't imagine that she'll stay with you now," Mia mutters quietly, fumbling with the hem of her tee shirt.
"Who cares? It's not like she would help if you guys were in trouble."
He simply stalks off with a shrug.
But I can almost hear what thoughts are rummaging through his mind when he looked at me. Somehow. . . the words scare me out a lot more out of my skin and bones than I have ever intended.
But you look like a plausible next prey.
***
Factor Two: The unnecessary attention sometimes pegs people to continue what they are doing on the belief that it is accepted in society.
Evidence: The clapping and hollers whenever a fight breaks out.
*****
author's note:
***important***
i have created a new work on my account that's dedicated to the profiles of all the characters in my stories (i'll be updating it at random times) but if you wish to know each individual more better— i'd recommend checking it out!
btw i'll probably include some info about my new works coming out (i'd love to hear your feedback on those characters heh)!