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Several mistakes later (chief among them being listening to podcasts without a timer on) Sami fell asleep, and later, so did Rosalie. At some point in the evening when Miss Mason came up the stairs to go to bed, she slipped in to check on Rosalie, and stopped at the sight of the Griffins son passed out beside her on the comforter. Khoshkeh laid curled up on Sami's chest, perfectly content in the light of the glow stars.
Miss Mason shut the door and texted Mrs. Griffin an update as to why Sami missed his curfew. Considering their task for that day (studying, which they did get done), Sami's backpack was already there and his car already in the driveway, it was easy for them both to wake up to Rosalie's alarm in less than a panic.
They'd been too tired to close the curtains, and so morning light streamed in through the floor length windows overlooking the porch. Rosalie stretched her arms back with a groan, only to snap her arms back down when Sami poked at her exposed armpit.
"Sami," she whined.
"Ha, sorry, instincts."
"More like habit." She reclined back on the bed and looked at the stars. They all read the fate of the world, and the fate of Sami's ass since he didn't meet curfew. "Shit. You weren't supposed to stay the night."
"I'll survive," he promised, sitting up. "Now. Time to get ready for another shitastic day of school."
They threw the blankets back and lunged into motion. Rosalie went for her closet for Sami's spare clothes and tossed them to him as he shed his shirt and trousers. She poked fun at his Spiderman boxers, not that Rosalie was any better—Supergirl wasn't much better. Sami snatched her camera and together they stood in Rosalie's full-length mirror and posed in their underwear.
She couldn't even imagine the sorts of bets that would come of it would the school get ahold of some of these pictures. She pinned the black polaroid to the wall, and it faded into focus as they both readied for the day. Sami spiked up his black hair in the mirror, fluffing it and combing it back. Despite Sami's serious distaste in all things sports, swim team did wonders for his abs that he began to cover up by buttoning his white shirt.
"Aw, I think it's too small on me," he whined.
"You're telling me. None of my pants fit anymore."
"Shopping this weekend?"
"God, yes. Every time I see Jace I just know he's staring at my 'Thunder Thighs,'" she said, tongue sticking out. Sami slung an arm around her shoulders with an affectionate, "Aw!" that she brushed away, giggling. "I'm serious! I'm not gonna be able to stop thinking about it until his shiner is gone."
"Do you think Joanna would punch Whitney Vasquez for me if I paid her?" Sami asked, and Rosalie rolled her eyes until she caught sight of Sami again and realized he was serious.
"Are you kidding? Whitney wouldn't stop until Joanna was expelled."
Sami threw up a peace sign and winked.
"Be serious. That's so mean. And if Joanna actually tries we'll have a shot at Nationals. Jade can't keep playing full matches," Rosalie explained, and it was true, and likely what Maguire was thinking. Their team was small enough as it was—eleven on a field at a time, and they had less than the appropriate amount for a proper scrimmage. They didn't have a substitute goalie, but if necessary, junior Luanna Williams was their best bet. Not nearly as stellar as Jade, but in a pinch, Lu would do.
Most teams in their county weren't nearly as exclusive as the Knights, but it just meant all their players were on their A game, injuries be damned. The number of times the Knights fell short because of other teams bullying Jade were ridiculous—two concussions landed Lu in the goal, and tore their chances of Regionals out of their hands.
Rosalie found it hard to believe that Joanna would let other teams bully her with aggressive kicks to the head like they did with Jade. Another strong reason for them all to despise Stone Ridge and Adams High.
"I wonder if there's something to motivate Joanna into doing what you want," Sami said as he slung his backpack over his shoulders and headed for the door. Rosalie followed after him, still tucking her shirt into her skirt.
"I don't know. I mean, she's..." Rosalie didn't want to say it, because she could already feel the heat flaring up to her cheeks when she thought about what Joanna said to Lennie. "Never mind."
"What?"
"I don't want to say it! You can't make me!" she cried, running ahead and scurrying down the stairs. She spun around the railing and darted for the kitchen with Sami hot on her heels.
"What is it?! No secrets! No secrets!" Sami whined, and Rosalie hesitated at the refrigerator. Sami slumped over the counter, pouting and batting his eyelashes at her.
Ever since they were kids, the two of them had a strict No Secrets rule just for the sake of transparency with one another. They spent so much time together that it had never been an issue. All of their personal secrets were out in the open. And... this wasn't exactly personal...
"Okay, fine," Rosalie huffed, turning back around. She closed her eyes and said it. "Joanna's gay. She said so to Lennie and I."
Sami straightened, eyes widening. "Are you sure she wasn't just kidding? I feel like that's something she'd kid about."
"No, she was serious. It sounds like Dylan knows, and so all the football guys probably know," she said. "I'm surprised it hasn't spread yet."
"Well, considering half the school thinks she's sleeping with the football team..." Sami said, and Rosalie had to do a double take. "Well, now it makes sense! No straight girl would want to hang out with them so often."
"Unless they're the cheerleaders."
"Yeah, and even then Harper Winters isn't too keen on it," he went on. "Ooh, this makes the betting so much easier."
Rosalie huffed at him and turned back around to prepare breakfast. As she pulled out boxes of cereal and mixed them into two separate bowls, she thought about her class's serious gambling problem. Bradshaw was a private school, and therefore attended by the richer half of the Montgomery population. Suffice to say everyone's allowances promoted the success of many betting pools.
They ate at the countertop before leaving. At the door, Khoshekh stood at the ready, and Rosalie held him up while Sami escaped before setting him back onto the foyer bench and making her own getaway. Khoshekh's paw caught on the edge of the door, trying to shove his face through the crack, but Rosalie tipped him back with a nudge of her foot.
"Sorry little man," she said, closing and locking the door. "I'll be back tonight! I promise!"
"Rosalie, come on, we'll be late!" Sami whined.
She ran to his car, holding her skirt down as she cried, "Sorry! Sorry!"
They both collapsed into their designated seats and pulled out of the driveway. As they continued the short trip to school, Sami pushed his sunglasses on and said with a shrug, "Well, if Joanna's gay, then you just need to figure out who she has a crush on. Convince them to go on a date with her or something."
"Even I wouldn't fall for that."
"It's worth a shot. You never know how horny someone is until you ask."
"Sami, oh my God," Rosalie screamed, hands over her blushing face. Sami honked the horn and hooted along with it until Rosalie slapped his hand away from the horn and slumped in her seat so everyone at school wouldn't have to see her suffering.
Sami parked the car amongst all the other breeds of expensive vehicles parents should not be letting their teenagers drive. Rosalie tended to fester over things like that if she didn't keep her own self in check, and so she instead criticized her own habit of buying far too many plants than was good for her. She never worked a true day-job before, which only meant that her mother was supporting her plant cause and addiction.
Sami slung an arm around Rosalie's shoulders as they wandered up to the school steps. "You know the plan," he said.
"I am not going to ask her—" Rosalie started, only to be reminded of her own motivation for this. Nationals.
"This is your last year to get to pass Regionals before Seattle or whatever scoops you away," Sami insisted with a sweep of his hand. "You won't catch any of their recruiters' eyes without that under your belt."
"Fine. Okay. I'll ask her," Rosalie muttered. "But I'm not gonna be happy about it."
Sami gave her shoulders a squeeze before splitting away in the foyer to head for the art department. "Tell Miss Calhoun I say hi!" Rosalie called after him, and he raised a thumbs up to that.
Rosalie slowed to a halt in the foyer, eyes falling from the massive Knight banner to the trophy case surrounded by photos from over the years. She stopped at the State trophy her team won the previous year—her first year as captain. She was blinking in the team photo, but her wide smile just made it look like she was squinting.
The last State trophy was from over five years ago. Every other year its home settled in Adams High on the other side of the Montgomery County conference. Adams crushed every team through State, and after being neck-in-neck with Adams for all those five years, Rosalie was finally able to get the team to equal measure. Adams High was not only the best in the conference, but also in the state. With a team of thirty varsity girls, and an impossible record of 23-1, the only hope Rosalie was the single loss against the Knights that broke the barrier to State.
After State, they barely survived one game in Regionals, and were decimated in the second. Adams High could never get further than Regionals.
She put a hand to the glass in front of the DCSAA championship trophy.
"Reminiscing the good ol' days?" Ray's voice sounded behind her. She glanced back at Ray, with her long brown hair highlighted from spending the entire summer out on the field. Their August Hell Week and bootcamp was the reason Rosalie was wearing skirts these days.
"I was just thinking about our chances," she confessed, crossing her arms. They both studied their junior year team photo. "All I've ever wanted was... to get to Nationals and go to USW."
"Yeah, but you've gotta admit: State's really cool, too. Considering we've got Adams in our conference," Ray said, head tipping to Rosalie's shoulder. "Regionals is basically impossible with Adams. I don't know how we'll beat them. And Nationals? We'd never make it against Saint Carter."
The Saint Carter Conquerors were so far up in their high school league that Rosalie could never even fathom encountering them. But... "With Joanna we could."
Ray scoffed, pulling away with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"I'm serious!"
"Yeah, and so am I! There's no way that girl would take this seriously. This is just a means to an end for her. Either us or risk suspension or detention for the rest of the semester," she said.
"You don't remember her like I do," Rosalie insisted. "She's really good. You saw her at practice her first day."
"Sure, sure. Whatever. And what's your genius plan for getting her on our side?" Ray said, and Rosalie was smart enough to clamp her mouth shut. She offered an uncertain shrug that had Ray groaning and spinning around. "Right, okay, so it's settled then? We don't know what the fuck we're doing?"
"I wouldn't say that, necessarily..." Rosalie said, swinging on her heels. She followed after Ray as the first bell rung overhead. They climbed the steps together as Rosalie tried to articulate it, but failed. The crowd of students thickened, and pushed them together at the top of the stairs. Rosalie smiled weakly down at Ray, who rolled her eyes.
"Whatever. It seems like you've got something planned. Just make it work, alright?" she said, jabbing a finger at Rosalie's left boob.
"Ow! Hey!" Rosalie cried, rubbing a hand over her chest as Ray made her getaway. "Ray!"
"Gotta go! Have fun making a deal with The Devil!" she said from over the heads of tiny freshmen crowding the halls. Rosalie threw her arms up in annoyance, and spun around to head for first hour.
As she turned the corner to enter the room, however, the Devil was standing not too far from it. She was standing with one of the football guys. Rosalie skidded to a halt, her heart beating impossibly fast just to remind her of how much Joanna kickstarted her fight or flight response. In a panic, she wound up skidding into an oncoming senior trying to enter the class.
"Oops! Sorry, oh my God," Rosalie squeaked, and the kid waved her apology off with a smile. Rosalie's face was beet red thinking about Sami's comment about how she wouldn't know how horny Joanna was unless she asked.
The collision just brought Joanna's eyes straight to her.
Shit.
"Oh, hey Captain, my Captain," Joanna said, bowing mockingly to her. Rosalie hugged her hands to her chest, unable to form words that had nothing to do with asking Joanna how horny she was.
Instead, Rosalie hurried across the threshold and abandoned the quest. She slapped her hands on the top of her desk, as if claiming it as her own personal safe spot.
It's not that big of a deal. Girls like girls all the time, right? she thought to herself, and instantly her brain was screaming, But that just means everyone is gay!
She slumped into her chair, hand over her face. Eventually, she dragged her hands through her hair and settled by crossing her arms and scowling at the front board.
This was just like asking anyone else who they had a crush on, right? The situation would still be awkward, though, she had to admit.
She chewed on her thumbnail and picked at the hangnail flanking it until the second bell rang. Joanna waltzed in then, just a second before the teacher emerged from her office. Of course, just like every other class, Joanna claimed the vacant spot beside Rosalie. She seemed less intent on badgering Rosalie, though, and for that, she was grateful.
It went on like that for the remainder of class—Rosalie sneaking side-glances at Joanna in hopes of figuring her out without having to have a conversation. Of course, Joanna gave nothing away. The Devil was stoic when she wasn't talking, and remained impassive as she stared at the front of the room without taking notes. Her thick-framed glasses did little to disguise her winged eyeliner and heavy-lidded brown eyes.
When the bell rang, and Rosalie got little to nothing done, Joanna turned to her then and said, grin spreading, "See somethin' you like?"
Rosalie's teeth, at the time, were latched onto a hefty hangnail. She jerked and wound up tearing it completely. "Ow! Shit!" she cried, wincing and leaning over her hand. "Oh, fuck, that hurt."
She pushed her forehead to the desk, took a deep breath, and straightened. Her thumb was gushing blood in earnest. She put her thumb to her lips to keep it from dripping. "I'm fine," she said around it, and Joanna just raised her eyebrows before rolling her eyes and reaching into her backpack. "I said I'm fine."
"Preach it to the choir. We all know I'm not singin' there," she said, and unclasped a small blue tin stuffed with... bandaids.
Students from the next class were starting to file in, and so Rosalie packed away her things, thumb still in her mouth. Her tongue tasted like copper by the time Joanna unwrapped a bandaid and reached over.
Rosalie hesitated.
"You think I get into fights without an Adventure Time bandaid on hand?" Joanna said. "Now give me your damn finger."
Rosalie lowered her hand and let Joanna wrapped her thumb up in a grey and red Marceline The Vampire Queen bandaid. Joanna tapped it afterwards, in perfect timing with Rosalie's blood throbbing against her thumbnail. "The real MVP," Joanna said, and raised a hand with the other over her heart, vowing to it.
"You don't seem like the... type of person to watch kids shows."
"Anything for the lesbian content, my friend," she said. "There's so little of it, I might as well dig for gold in subtext."
Rosalie let out a nervous laugh, clutching onto her backpack straps as she followed Joanna out of the room. "I've never seen it, so I wouldn't know," she confessed, and then hesitated. "Not the lesbian content. Just... Adventure Time in general. Personally I'm a fan of Lena Luthor."
"No shit?" Joanna said laughing. "Katie McGrath has had my heart ever since Merlin."
Rosalie threw her head back and laughed, because truth be told, she always was bias towards Lena for her actress's good looks.
She rubbed her freshly bandaged thumb against the strap of her backpack, and looked down at Marceline and her axe guitar. They had another two minutes before the next bell, and an entire walk to spend talking. But they had the entire day together—she didn't want to make things awkward. How could she survive the day if talking about Joanna's crush ruined what little chance Rosalie had at winning Joanna's respect as a captain?
She couldn't do it.
"You look constipated," Joanna said.
Rosalie turned red in an instant. "I do not! I was just thinking—"
"Careful before you hurt yourself."
Rosalie was strangling her backpack straps by that point. "Sh-Shut up! I don't look constipated," she argued, and was met with a knowing wink. "I... was actually just wondering about..."
"Rosalie!"
Oh thank God.
At the entrance to second hour, they were stopped by none other than Juliana sprinting up. She slowed to a halt, and latched onto Rosalie's arm. She had a knowing smile on that said everything Rosalie hoped—her savior from impending awkward doom.
"Ready to get your Hamlet on?" she said with a little wiggle, and an eager smile at Joanna.
Joanna's smile looked strained, annoyed, and all of the above. "Definitely," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Joanna walked ahead into the classroom. Rosalie mouthed a "Thank you!" to Juliana, who smiled innocently from beside her.
The desks were all arranged in a circle when they arrived, and while Joanna claimed a spot on the far side near the window, Juliana dragged Rosalie to sit away from her, and closer to where several other familiar faces had gathered. Juliana was more or less a theatre fanatic, though her own personal shortcomings fell in the realm of acting and singing and what-have-you (hence soccer being her main extracurricular). English was her strong suit, and often left Rosalie amazed by all she crafted, and all she accomplished in their literature courses. She skipped freshmen year english and therefore found herself a year ahead in the literature classes available at Bradshaw. So, surrounded by seniors, Juliana unpacked her annotated book on Hamlet, and perked up at the dramatic entrance their english teacher made.
The course began with a flourish of uninteresting historical details about how really, it all came down to Shakespeare having reinvented plots that already existed (fan fiction). "—Perhaps the greatest fan fiction writer in the history of the English language, Shakespeare took the story of Prince Amleth. The Prince witnessed the murder of his father at the hands of his uncle—"
"Whoa, spoilers," Joanna muttered, slouched back in her chair. She pursed her lips as a few of the kids around the circle giggled. "What? That wasn't supposed to be funny."
Their teacher smiled patiently as the giggling faded. "I'm sure you're all aware that there's quite a history of psychiatry critiques being, well, convinced that psychiatry is a pseudoscience," she went on, and Joanna rolled her eyes. Rosalie dragged her attention back to the teacher. The teacher paced around the outskirts of the circle, hands clasped to her stomach. She unironically wore a pair of bottle cap glasses to class every day, though Rosalie was convinced that she could see just fine.
She pursed her lips and paused before continuing. "When I was in university, I took a course on scientology as a religion. People who practice scientology believe that spiritual awareness comes from years of studying and research, and in the class I didn't realize until it was too late that I was surrounded by scientologists who were avid disbelievers of psychiatry. Their basic example of psychiatry's fault is the overused story that was told and retold by plenty of people like Shakespeare by the time he dolled up his plays for production. The story goes a little something like this:
"A man once gets into a bar fight. Easy enough," she said, continuing her pacing. "However, the bar fight landed this man on his track to prison. Now, in order to prevent a prison sentence, the man fakes madness at the hearing. He fakes it too well, and winds up in an insane asylum where no one will believe he is sane. Sound a bit familiar, from what we've talked about with Hamlet?
"However, one of Shakespeare's greatest achievements that spans across all of his plays involves this constant source of ambiguity—its left to the reader to decide whether Hamlet's mad, or whether 'virtue itself turns vice being misapplied, And vice sometime's by action dignified.' Is the flower both poison and medicine, or one of either? Depends on how the reader applies it."
As the teacher went on to discuss how "faking madness", in psychiatry, suggests some level of psychopathy, Rosalie found herself wondering what the odds were that Joanna was faking disinterest in soccer. Besides, why would she choose soccer, out of all of the sports, when O'Gallagher gave her that sentence? Could it be that Joanna was pretending she didn't care about being a goalkeeper?
This revelation sent Rosalie flickering on and off between asking Joanna and staying silent. In the end, she couldn't stop Joanna from faking apathy without making some sort of deal anyways, and so the deed was done. At the end of the day, she headed for the locker rooms with full certainty that this was how she'd take the team to Regionals.
All Rosalie had to do was coax Joanna along with a potential date with whoever The Devil was crushing on.
That was all.
n/a: Let me know what you think! :D I'd love to hear who your favorite character is!