Form: Complication/ANGST - Side note: Badass Lauren!
You approached the Dean's office with no clue why you were instructed to speak with the Dean. You're not failing any classes, you've only been absent four times thus far in the late second half of the school year, you have great relationships with all your teachers despite the several you're not very fond of and your behavior in your classes is nothing to be issued with the Dean. English is the only class where you talk excessively because your pretty, little girlfriend sits right beside you. However, the teacher never catches you when you two are seated in the back row.
You couldn't conclude that would be the reason you have to speak with Dean Heathers, but you were just going to walk in with a bright smile like always to not cause tension. You trailed on over to the Dean's assistant at her desk. She had blonde, shoulder-length strands with a few grey hairs strewing her head. A black button-up sweater was evident over a simple white tee. Her eyeglasses had a rectangular shape to them with thin frames.
You watched her continue playing Solitaire until she felt your presence at her desk. She lifted her eyes up from the screen and onto you. "May I help you?" She asked. The tone in her voice was never condescending, surely just straightforward.
You slid the tiny, blue slip in your hand over to her on the desk. It had a few crumples due to your hand squeezing it with no care on the way to the Dean's office, you tried to pretend that you weren't fearful for what the Dean wanted to talk about. Ms. Erwin gazed over at the slip before she reached to an ah! moment, though, her face didn't express much other than a nod to her head.
"Dean is waiting for you down the hall, first door on your right." She explained. Of course, she had to give to directions where his office was, she was aware you've never been directed to the office before considering you're nobody she's seen here before.
You smiled, "Thank you."
You stepped away from the desk and made your way to the hall. Your heart rate increased significantly, but you attempted to give yourself reasons not to be. You didn't do anything wrong, you've never been caught doing anything illegal on campus other than the few times you have gotten drunk with friends. Your mind was boggled with whatever this situation could be.
That was until you opened the door to be greeted by not only Dean Heathers, but your girlfriend and your former best friend. There were three chairs sitting side by side in front of Heathers' desk, the empty chair sitting between Lauren on the right and Angel on the left. With all their faces pointed at you, Lauren's was the one you were most concerned about. She appeared to have a bruise below her left eye and she held a tissue to her nose, keeping the blood intact so it didn't fall onto her clothes. Her makeup for some reason didn't look like it worsened after this incident despite her mascara and eyeshadow was smeared. Her highlight and red lipstick? Yup, still on point.
However, your former best friend looked all sorts of fucked up. Her ponytail was rather messy, her bottom lip was busted and she had to have a tissue absorb the continuous blood dripping out, her left eye was fine but the right one was shut due to the pain, you assumed. Her shirt was wrinkled like it was scrunched up in the hand of another and grass stains were evident on her light blue jeans.
It didn't take long for you to put two and two together, Lauren and Angel fought. And you can imagine who started it. It had to have been your girlfriend. This past week, she's seen you cry and cry until you fell asleep in her arms, the reason being for Angel completely cutting you out of her life. Almost as if you never existed at all. Lauren knew you and Angel were as close as can be, you two being best friends since you were ten and she was nine. She had no idea why Angel just decided to shut you out with no explanation. Angel blocked your number, all your social media accounts, everything. She made sure to have no contact with you whatsoever.
And that hurt you, anyone with a brain knew it did. You spent hours on the phone with Lauren, venting about what you could have done that was wrong or offensive to Angel. Lauren comforted you through it all, always trying to convince you that it wasn't you, it was Angel herself. Lauren made it clear that she didn't know what Angel's intentions were, but she did say she would get to the bottom of it, though, you didn't know this would be the way.
"Good morning, Y/N. Please, have a seat." Dean Heathers said, a small smile raising his top lip.
After hearing the door click behind you, you situated yourself in between Lauren and Angel. You could feel your girlfriend's eyes burning on you, you believe she was deciphering whether you were angry at her or not, and Angel avoided eye contact with you at all costs. You stirred a few times in your seat with the discomfort you received from both ends, however, you weren't neglecting to hear Dean Heathers' words.
Somehow, you continued paying attention even with Lauren tangling her leg around yours. She knew it was an inappropriate time as to hold your hand or offer any affection, but she was dying to know if you would hesitate at her touch. Much to her surprise and liking, you didn't. Lauren's heart had been beating at an alarming rate until you didn't grant any sign you were agitated with her.
"It came to my attention by these two that you and Ms. Franklin had a falling out, correct?" He carried on after your nod, "Did you agree to let Lauren fight Ms. Franklin?"
"Heathers, I already told you—"
You interrupted Lauren, "No, I had no idea. I would obviously try to convince Lauren out of it because I would never agree to allow either of them getting hurt."
"Even with the unexpected mishap with Ms. Franklin?" Dean Heathers raised an eyebrow.
"I am a firm believer that two wrongs don't make one right. I know what Lauren and Angel did was wrong, but you have to understand Lauren had good intentions. She's seen me be a wreck this entire week and no, I don't approve of her actions, I just know she was being protective of me." You said.
The Cuban girl beside you was a blushing mess, her cheeks grew red over the tiny bruises drawn on them. What you said was also a reassurance to her heart that you weren't mad at her, that's all she wanted and that was the risk she took.
"She might have had great intentions, but there was no reason to get physical. I will not tolerate it under any circumstances and there will be consequences issued to both, Lauren and Angel." He paused when the two girls you sat between groan in unison, "I only invited you down here to solve this problem between you and Ms. Franklin."
"What's there to solve?" You questioned.
"Hearing this from Lauren, I understand Ms. Franklin didn't give you any explanation on why she ended your friendship." He continued, "In the end, you don't have to be best friends again. I get it, people grow apart, but you, Y/N, deserve an explanation from Angel. The room next door is empty, please talk it out. I'll be speaking with Lauren and her consequences in the meantime."
You glanced over at Lauren, a frown was placed onto her lips until the two of you locked eyes, then she cracked a reassuring smile. "I love you, good luck." She mouthed.
You couldn't reply because Angel was practically out of the room already. You unlocked your leg from Lauren's and met with Angel in the other room, shutting the door behind you. The room you two were now placed in happened to be the faculty lounge. It had to be considering the two vending machines and the large refrigerator sitting by the counters. Angel seated herself on the couches, taking out her phone, and began to pay no mind to you.
You sighed, joining her on the couch. Your eyes trailed down to your shoes and your shaky hands resting on your knees. There a moment of silence for a long minute before you felt this pit of anger rise in you. You were not going to let Angel just be on her phone this whole time. As Dean Heathers said, you deserved an explanation from Angel whether she wanted to give one or not.
You turned your head to Angel, her eyes remaining on her phone. "I want an explanation. I'm done driving myself crazy not knowing what I did wrong. You know how easy you could make this by just telling me? We could just move on, friends or not. Don't be a punk ass."
Punk Ass used to be a special term you and Angel would use, it would usually refer to every fuckboy you met, some kind of a jerk, or someone who was acting cowardly. Funny, Angel fits right with the third one.
Angel took her eyes off her screen with no hesitation, "Hey! I am no punk ass."
"Really?" You chuckled, "For the last three years, you and I have referred to any coward that came our way a punk ass. You not telling me what the fuck ended our friendship is the thing a punk ass would do."
"I ended everything because it's better we end it now and not in May!" Angel exclaimed.
You raised an eyebrow, "What the hell does that mean?"
"In two months, I'm moving to London with Charlie. I want a clean, fresh start when I graduate and move there. If that means I have to break two hearts, including my own, then so be it. I want to escape all the shitty memories that came from this place, this city, this area, whatever. You didn't contribute to the poor memories, you were just the package that came with it."
You removed your eyes off of Angel, placing them back on your feet. Tears threatened to fall down your cheeks, but instead, you shot up from your spot on the couch and looked down at Angel.
"You know, this 'shitty place' is what shaped you. No, it actually encouraged you to be the bitch that you are. I'm sorry that every shitty memory you have of this place has to affect you in such a way, it's turned you to be some cold-hearted person I don't even recognize. Life isn't fun for anybody, quit acting like you're the only one struggling. So, what? You think London is going to be any better? So, what if it is? It doesn't mean you still won't bring Miami with you. You know, the shitty place you're trying to escape from? Yeah, have a nice life, punk ass."
You exited out of the room, not giving Angel one more chance to speak. You entered Dean Heathers' office once again, startling both Lauren and Dean Heathers by how fast the door opened. Lauren was the first to see the distressed expression on her face, leading her to believe that you and Angel talking it out wasn't such a good idea.
"Thanks for letting me have that talk, Heathers. I'm going back to class now." Before you could fall apart in front of the two of them, you left them with their thoughts and possibly, their bodies glued to their chairs.