"Who started it?" He finally spoke.
"She did!" Ericka cried, pointing fingers at Georgie like a child, and I might just continue whatever she began in the cafeteria if I didn't have my arm wrapped in bandages.
"Oh fuck off, Ericka." Jumper muttered, rolling her eyes as she leaned back further on her chair.
"Ms. Dillon, I will not tolerate that kind of language in this room." Mr. Lawrence chastised, dark brown eyes now focused on Jumper's visage. "The close witnesses are the only people allowed to give statements other than the people involved. And I assume you weren't there in the scene?"
"I tried to help out but the other students were blocking us." She explained.
"Then you have the right to remain silent." He stated, shifting from his seat and opening up his log book of misdemeanors, probably writing down both their names. Another object in his office we've grown immensely familiar with. Dalton stole it once, and read his statements outloud in one of our sessions while we were high out of propriety. It wasn't too long before Mr. Lawrence realized it was missing and checked the surveillance footage in his office and saw him sneaking in and taking it. He had to pay for it by doing community service. "Back to the two of you; what caused such a scene?"
"I was--" They both began in unison, quickly cut off upon realization.
"Ms. Shelley first."
"What?! Why?!" Georgie exclaimed to my surprise, "This is fucking bullshit, why does she have to talk first?! She's only gonna feed you lies!"
"Because I said so!" Mr. Lawrence demanded, slamming his fist on the table to assert dominance, "Another outburst like that and I will suspend you for the rest of the year!" He threatened, eyes wide as he looked at Georgie. "Begin Ms. Shelley."
"I was just retrieving my lunch from the counter and suddenly my food was all over my shirt." Ericka described, feigning a sob and pulling out a handkerchief from her pocket, wiping over her eyes. "When I looked up I noticed it was her who bumped into me."
"People in the cafeteria said you called her a crackhead?" He furrowed his eyebrows, writing down whatever just came out of her mouth. "Why is that?"
"Because she is!" She defended, my butt itching to get off the waiting chair and strangle her to death. It didn't matter whether she knew or not, she specifically knows Georgie and Dalton for drugs and either way, she'll accuse me of participating. "She is along with her friends and you know that! All of them! Including my cousin!"
Wow, suddenly I'm her cousin. Last time I checked she didn't even want to be seen anywhere near me or my friends in fear of being sneered at by the same kids she gossips with. This is definitely the first time I've heard that word be directed at me coming from her. But then again, those were the least of my worries.
Mr. Lawrence writing hand came to a halt, looking up at Ericka in confusion. "Excuse me?"
"With all due respect, Sir, I know what happened the night of the Halloween dance." She articulated, dropping the previous act of being the victim and sitting straight up, my heart thumping in my ribcage. "The teachers saw them in the storage room with booze, which is illegal so they got confronted about it. Then they discovered there were drugs too."
Chills ran down my spine from how accurate the details were, the night vividly replaying in my head; the stupid tinkerbell costume she made me wear to hummiliate me, the drugs, Sarah, and the dicussion about Pamela and the fact I didn't even know she's been discovered dead inside Hillside Cross Station. How the fuck did she know that? There no one else but us and the teachers, and we were secluded far off from the main venue, other than that, we were behind the fucking shelves and there was no way in hell her friends heard. They were too busy mixing whisky with the punch on the counter tables. "Ericka, for the love of god--"
"No, Adrianne," She cuts me off, blue eyes staring straight at me as a scorn hides behind her expressions. "He knows, doesn't he?" She arches an eyebrow. Does he? I didn't know. I wasn't sober enough to recall the faces that caught us that night, I just know we were fucked, and from there on all the other details were provided by Georgie. Nonetheless, there was no way Mr. Lawrence didn't get involved. "So let me fucking talk."
The room fell silent, the hum of the air conditioner from the vents getting louder now. "There weren't any drugs retrieved." He clarified, closing his log book and shoving it under his desk without any interest in writing any further. It was true anyway. Most of the coke and grass were in Georgie's backpack, which I took with me when I left the building and abandoned by the hospital when I was trying to open one of the windows. And it was still there. Unless someone went in again and took it, which is likely, so perhaps it's gone. There wouldn't be any drugs seen if they somehow saw the left over cocaine on the tables when we were doing lines.
"Yes, but you still let them slip because Sarah Holland's father came and paid you guys." She continued, the guidance counselor sitting frozen on the other side of the desk. He did know. Even if it wasn't that night in particular, he still knew. Sarah's father had bought us out more than enough times now that they became friends, and he knew how prevalent we are with scandals, and most certainly he was aware of the other things. Maybe even Georgie's history. "Technically that's illegal-- oh no, that's definitely illegal. I heard people lose their licence if they face such a case."
Mr. Lawrence collected himself, straightening his back against his seat and clasping his hands together on top of his desk, attempting to keep his cool. "It seems to me you're trying to blackmail an acclaimed guidance counselor, Ms. Shelley."
"Well it seems to me, that acclaimed guidance counselor is letting druggies walk around his school grounds because some rich girl's dad paid him." Ericka shrugged innocently, the same voice she used to get out of her fuck ups getting into my nerves even more this time. Her face was puffy, cheeks lined with cuts and her lip busted whilst her hair were in tangles, that I almost felt a hint of pity for her. But by some fucking miracle, she still managed to be herself, even after getting hit and right there and then, I knew she deserved it.
"Ms. Shelley--" He attempted to brush her off, tugging on the necktie holding together his shirt.
"So if you expel me, " She continued, "Or do anything to me for that matter, I'm going to have to spread your little secret and you can say bye to this school forever."
The nerve she had to talk the way she does. It was horrifyingly amazing, how much such a frail body and smooth face could say such vile words. I knew she was an expert at soiling students for her own entertainment and gain. I've seen it all unfold right in front of me, either about some unsuspecting person who didn't do anything wrong, or us. Always the same pattern. Nevertheless, I've never sighted her use her mouth against one of the highest authorities at school in front of my eyes before. Sure I've heard the rumours, but I thought she had her limits. Why would she let herself get seen in a bad light by the people who consistently dealt with her mess? They could end her in a snap of a finger, and she wouldn't even see it coming. However, like many other things, I was wrong again. She would do whatever it takes to put the blame on someone else, even if it means touching things she shouldn't. And that was why people have always been scared of her enough to kiss her ass.
The air in the room was thick and cold like the blizzard has entered through the vents, the entire school fading away in the background. Mr. Lawrence only looked at her, seemingly weighing in the consequences she was offering right there. This wasn't the first time she's done this, and it sure as hell won't be the last. What can he really do at this point? Ericka wasn't one to break a promise, not when it involved ruining someone else's life. She's done this so many times now, this was nothing. Eventually his face fell, rubbing his temples as he pushed himself away from the desk and gave himself space. "What do you want, Ericka?" He took a deep breath, rolling his eyes in irritation.
"I want to be spared from suspension." She stated crystal clear.
Mr. Lawrence dropped his hand away from his face, "I can't do that!" He protested, "You girls started a goddamned riot in the lunchroom, hurt each other, and didn't listen to any demand to stop until the principal had to be involved! Someone has to be held responsible for all this!"
"I'm not the only person in the room, am I?" Her eyes landed on the chair ahead of her where Georgie sat, wrapping her bloody knuckles in a handkerchief. Anger soared through me, my hands itching to gouge her eyes out just so I could get justice. She didn't have the right to even stare at her like she was any better. If someone has to suffer the consequences, it might as well just be the two of them even if she was the one who started all of it. If she hadn't called Georgina a crackhead, none of this would've happened. She could've just easily walked away. But why would she? Why would she when she could have the advantage of calling her names again and be the victim at the same time, and the only catch is to get her face fucked up? It was too good of a plan for her, and now she has it in her fingertips again.
"You can go now, Ms. Shelley." Mr. Lawrence announced.
Did I just hear that right?
Jumper shot up her feet, knuckles clenched on her sides as Ericka stood up from her chair with a satisfied look on her face. She won again. "What?! You're just going to let her walk away like that?!"
"Sucks to be you, unfortunately."
Jumper executes my thoughts, launching towards her and yanking her by the collar of her shirt, holding up a fist too close I could already materialize the sound of her jaw cracking from the impact. Ericka just stood there, a smirk pulling on her mouth as she waited for the hit, but it didn't come as I grabbed Jumper's wrist and pulled it away, stopping her before giving the devil the satisfaction.
"Don't." I shook my head and she turned her eyes to me, lips trembling as aggravation fumed through her nose, dark blue veins popping out of her neck, grasp still on Ericka's shirt. I wanted her to do it. I wanted her to continue and hit the life out of my cousin so I didn't have to and deal with the guilt of facing Uncle Ron and Aunt Marianne afterwards. However, Jumper is going to get suspended as well, and Ericka is just going to find another hole to put her knife into us and I didn't want her to have another advantage. Not this time.
"Listen to your friend, Antonette. Maybe you can learn how to be civil." Ericka muttered, easily taking Jumper's hand off her collar and walking towards the door, letting herself out and leaving us to remain in the room. What did I even expect? That she was going to let us out that easy? No. If I were on the brink of falling off a cliff, she wouldn't just ignore me. She would dig her feet into the last fingers I have holding onto the edge, just like how she would with anyone else who wasn't herself, or didn't belong in the people she worshipped.
"So what are we supposed to do now?" Georgie spoke, leaning her elbows onto her kneecaps and I lead Jumper back to the seats.
The guidance counselor sighed, opening up his desk cabinet and pulling out a glass and a bottle of jack daniels. He pops open the cap, the strong scent of whiskey replacing the monotone smell of the room as he poured himself some. "I'm going to have to suspend you for a week or so, just to cool down the fire." He finally said, taking a swig on the glass.
"What!?" Jumper and I simultaneously raged.
"Why do I have to be the one suspended? She's the one who started it!" Georgie argued.
"You heard her, didn't you?!" He pours himself another. "If I even simply do anything to her, she'll tell the other school divisions about what I did, and I'll lose my license. And you're both the one who started it in each other's stories."
He's scared of her too. Of course he is and he has to be if he wanted to keep his job. Because Ericka will actually do it. If Sarah was here right now we could easily get out unscathed. She would beg her dad or one of his staffs to come over and talk through whatever he did. But she wasn't, and Richard was already having a hard time on his own trying to find his daughter, calling him right now would be a baggage. "So you're just going to let her walk away like that, and you're going to fucking suspend me?! You're being so unfair right now!"
"The only way I can settle this is via suspension." He stated. "I would rather risk you stupid girls missing classes than lose my job. Now get out of my office before the principal finds out what happened in here."
There was no use further begging Mr. Lawrence to do something about it. He couldn't. It wasn't his rule to suspend misbehaving students, and using the Richard excuse was too low when it was the reason why Ericka had the upper hand. He's going to suspend Georgie for an entire week and let the other roam around like she did nothing wrong. The works. I couldn't blame him. At the end of the day he was just doing his job. He knew Ericka enough to be aware she doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut, and I guess he was just protecting himself. We got out of the office, Jumper's fists still clenched, murmuring something under her breath as we headed to the school exit, the extensive hallways emptied of people as fourth periods goes on. We were free from the jeering and taunting for now, but once the bell rings we're going to have to skip all the classes we have left and get out of there fast.
It was still cold out, the skies a shade of gray as snow continued to fall, the three of us wrapping ourselves in thick coats and sweaters, Jumper lighting up a cigarette to calm herself down. We stopped by at a pharmacy near school, the woman by the counter only staring at us in confusion as I bought some advil and bandaids, the two sitting by a random shed in front of the establishment; Georgie trying her best to cover up her face with the oversized hoodie of her sweater, and Jumper impatiently tapping her shoe on the snow and taking long drags on her stick, smoke rising in the dry air. I took the painkillers from the woman as soon as she handed it over, walking away from the window and sitting next to them, giving Georgie the pills.
"You should've let me punch her." Jumper muttered, resting her elbows on her thighs, watching cars pass by. "I was so fucking close."
"Adrianne is right." Georgie mumbled, swallowing a pill and taking a sip on her water bottle. My heart fluttered, warmth spreading inside me as she agreed. "If you punch her you're just going to get suspended too, and she wants that to happen."
"But that didn't stop you from going to town with her face, did it?"
"Jumper--"
"Don't." Georgie stopped me, wiping off the dried blood from Ericka's sharp nails with her sleeve. "It's my fault. I couldn't control my temper so I exploded. I'm sorry I had to get you guys involved."
A part of me died to ask what happened. Why she'd been acting the way she has for the rest of the day, but I figured I shouldn't. We weren't truly okay. For all I know, the only reason she's talking to me is because of what happened, and the fact it was something we won't be able to avoid. It wasn't like Arthur was miraculously gone after that. He was still with us, and I'm pretty sure not some stupid fistfight will just erase whatever occured between them. "Well now what are you going to tell your dad? He's going to ask."
"I don't know." She took a deep breath and leaned back, snowflakes falling onto her cuts. "But I don't have to worry about that until they come home after two days."
"What do you mean?" Jumper asked, pulling her gaze away from the roads.
"Annabeth and Dad went off to some resort in Cali, They won't be back for two or more." She says, leaning over and taking a handful of clean snow from the ground, pasting it over her swollen knuckles.
"So you mean to say your house is empty . ."
"Yeah."
*****
"To Georgina's monster fists!" Brylle screamed, shaking a champagne bottle, the cork flying off its mouth and hitting the ceiling of the living room, leaving a dent on the porcelain white paint. The liquor foamed, overflowing onto his hands and making a mess on the carpet his eyes widening in horror.
We stood around in our usual circle, half full glasses in our hands as loud music blasted through the speakers next to the tv, the fireplace lit up as the storm howled stronger outside. All of us take a shot, the bitter taste of scotch spreading through my throat. Right after Georgie revealed her house was empty back on the streets, Jumper proposed getting the pack together. She called everyone, swearing at them to come over quickly without any explanation as to why. At first it was about making a plan for giving away flyers today, nevertheless, as soon as the boys arrived we just decided we won't and derailed into celebrating the fact she managed to get the long awaited revenge we've been wanting from Ericka. Dustin and Brylle raided her father's liquor collection in the basement, set them all on the counter and poured all of us drinks. Georgie wasn't going to stop them even if she wanted to, joining along and turning up the volume of her stereo.
"Whatever he said!" Dustin seconded, raising his glass in the air and taking a swig on it and plopping down the couch.
"You guys, don't encourage her." Romina chuckled, shaking her head. She was panting when she first hurtled from the door and wrapped Georgie in her arms like they haven't seen each other in years, asking her what happened. And behind her was Arthur, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood there. He's heard about the commotion too. After all, how could he not? It was the biggest thing that happened since our alleged affair. People apparently got out of the lunchroom and ran across the corridors in the middle of other students' classes and shouted there was a fight in the cafeteria. Everyone shot up their feet and hurried to the area to watch. He didn't say anything. He didn't know what he was doing there either. He just knows he shouldn't be, but Romina's grasp was glued to his wrist, pulling him along as she sat on one of the couches
I still haven't forgotten what he told me yesterday in Ad Urbem; the sheer audacity he had in him to accuse me of just letting Ericka ruin my life when he saw the way she treated us everyday, and I don't think I ever will. He did try apologizing in the car, but it was too late.
"No, please encourage more of it, this is great!" Jumper nodded, taking a seat next to Brylle as she sipped on her drink.
Guilt passed through me every now and then as I took a gulp on my bottle, letting them have their fun and trudging to the kitchen. We haven't found Sarah yet. We didn't even know if she was alive or not and everyday we stray further away from being certain of the two, yet there we are. We've been searching non-stop, and I'm pretty sure that's another reason Georgie looks like shit. As much as it's in our highest priority to find her, perhaps we needed a break too.
Dalton stood by the countertop, hunched over and quiet like glasses would break if he made a sound, music from the living room echoing through the walls. "Hey, not joining the crackhead session outside?" I chortled, and he stands straight up, holding up a rolled up paper and wiping off the white powder stuck on his nose.
"Why would I join that when all the crack is in here?" He arched an eyebrow, shooting a grin at me.
°°
Hi guys ✨ Sorry for the extreme delay again, I was having major existential crises for the past couple of weeks, and I just couldn't get myself to write without getting distracted by something. I'll make it up to y'all somehow, but for now I hope you enjoy 😊