Beautiful. Funny. Charming. Popular. Smart. Confident. Perfect. Those were all words used to describe Rachel Amber, a sixteen-year-old blonde girl who always wore a thick brown-braided leather bracelet with silver-blue objects and a matching blue feathered earring with a golden pheasant tippet at the top, just her signature objects. But one word people always decided to ignore was adapting. Rachel could see a random group of skaters on the park and instantly make a conversation, even though she'd never skated before but always wanted to. She could see a group of hobos warming up to a fire and act as if she were one of them, regarding her looks. She could trick you into believing anything, like you no longer had opposable thumbs or that she really cared about the thing you were telling her so passionately about. But that didn't make her fake, right? Just really... crafty.
Maybe the school was just too boring. Blackwell was full of people who wanted to fit in desperately. Rachel fitted in the second she moved to Oregon, Arcadia Bay—being a Cali girl was really attractive, given an instant acceptance card. But maybe she didn't want to fit in. She wished she could just not give a fuck. But no... she just couldn't tell anyone to fuck off, that would be too disrespectful, at least that's what her parents' taught her. But she guessed lying was part of their mold—since she was the daughter of the DA, she had to learn to lie. Act. Pretend. Still not fake, though.
Rachel passed by the Blackwell hallways, a few books on her hands. Her friend Dana Ward was by her side, talking about one of her scenes in the Drama Club. "He's literally been banging everyone and my character is just supposed to just forgive him?" Dana ranted.
"That is unsettling," Rachel answered. "But she is in love, you can't blame her for having clouded thinking." Instinctively, she looked at her locker, a few isles away from hers. Chloe Price's. Her crush's. You could call Rachel confident all you wanted, but she was scared shitless to talk to her.
You see, Chloe Price was a loner ever since her father died two years ago. How did Rachel know that if she hadn't spoken to her? She asked around. Chloe's father's death had led her to bad grades, drugs, and alcohol. Chloe just... stopped giving fucks. She burst her punk music—her favorite, don't ask—loudly on the field. She ditched most of her classes, one of the reasons it was impossible to speak to her. And she talked back to all the teachers. Or well, everyone.
How do you talk to someone like that? Someone so wild? Someone who could turn you down in a beat? Someone who has the trait you want?
Rachel realized she'd been staring for a tad too long and placed her books inside her locker, trying to forget about the image of the short haired brunette dressed in vegan leather—yes, she also knew Chloe wouldn't hurt an animal in any way. Rachel was really good at reading people, being a fast learner, and maybe... also at stalking them. And trust me, it was hard.
Chloe Price didn't really use social media, she just shared new songs she was into and sometimes liked posts on Miss Arcadia Bay, a forum to discuss events going on the town. Here's a secret: Rachel was Miss Arcadia Bay, but no one would know that. As Miss Arcadia, she could complain. She could say what she really wanted to out loud. Maybe that's why Chloe used it. But Rachel couldn't be like that in real life. Maybe that makes her fake.
"I wish straight girls weren't so dumb," Dana said. She was openly bisexual and so was Rachel, probably one of the reasons Rachel kind of liked her, being able to joke about their sexualities. But Rachel wouldn't tell her about her crush on Chloe, they weren't close enough.
"Me too." Rachel rolled her eyes, even though she didn't feel that annoyed. She hadn't been too invested in this conversation. Rachel closed her locker. "Well, I gotta go to the library. Bi!"
"Bi!" Dana waved her hard as her friend walked away.
Rachel got into the library, successfully avoiding anyone who would try to talk to her on the way. She sat down in front of a computer, looked around and logged into Miss Arcadia Bay. Normally, if someone in real life talked to her about the website, Rachel would say she watches actual News, not some wannabe blog. People believed her, it fitted with the DA's daughter profile. How naïve.
She had a few messages. She clicked the one that caught her eyes first: FIREWALK CONFIRMED. Firewalk was a band she liked. And guess who else did? Chloe. This was perfect. She'd been waiting for the rumours, for her wish upon a star to come true for this one chance. The chance to bond with Chloe over a band they both loved. She suppressed a squeal. And yes, she could just talk to Chloe in school about the band, but what's the fun in that?
Rachel answered the Ask Miss Arcadia post so Chloe would see it, finding out the location through her reliable sources and making it more appealing to strangers through her mysteriousness.
She logged out after answering a few other messages and got up to get ready for her next classes. She wasn't sure how she was going to concentrate, knowing she wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it. But she would manage. She was "Little Miss Perfect", after all.
The hours to come seemed eternal. Rachel survived class. But when she came home, she couldn't stop staring at her computer screen, waiting for Chloe's like. She sighed, knowing she was obsessing and wasting time. She had already messed up her study schedule. Who cares about that now, though? What was she gonna wear? Rachel wanted to impress Chloe, for sure. Her usual flannels wouldn't do this time. A concert was a whole different scene and Rachel loved dressing up for events.
She dug through her closet, went for: a dark studded jacket, a black t-shirt with a white silhouette of a person playing guitar, denim shorts over torn-up black leggings and black boots. She'll probably go crazy with accessories, like necklaces and bracelets. Rachel enjoyed going all out. Sometimes she considers she's overdressing, but it always ends up being the right amount. She hoped, at least. See? This is why she needed to stop giving fucks. Yet here she is, figuring out how to impress a girl.
She heard a notification sound come from her computer. She left the outfit on her bed and ran to her laptop.
1 new comment:
Chloe Price wrote Fuck yeah. Can't wait!
Rachel cheered, even did a little silly dance. And then composed herself, as if someone had looked at her weirdly through the window. She sat comfortably on her chair and browsed through Tumblr and Pinterest for hairstyle reference. A ponytail would be fitting.
When Rachel was calmer and her parents called her to come down for dinner, she asked them if she could go. She lied to them about its whereabouts, though. If her father knew it was in the abandoned sawmill... he would go himself and arrest everyone. Probably.
One word she had forgotten to mention about herself was ambitious. Yes, she wanted to climb Everest and be a successful actress and model. But she also wanted to get the girl. And she would. Not going to the concert wasn't an option.
Lucky for her, her parents bought her lie. The good thing about them was that they trusted her, having the best grades and seemingly good relationships with students and teachers paid off.
Rachel went to sleep with a smile on her face, not being able to wait, too.
The evening of the concert, Rachel put her outfit on. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she knew she looked hot. She decided to add some pins to her jacket, wore a choker, a necklace with an animal fang and black fingerless gloves. If that didn't scream badass, Rachel didn't know what would.
Even though she knew Chloe would probably be a little late, she arrived early, having to charm her way in. At times like these, she wished she was eighteen. To be fully free of ties to her parents. She just wanted to run away and see the world.
Once inside, she grabbed a drink. She had suddenly felt nervous and Rachel didn't do nervous. She walked around the lobby area, there were both young and grown people by the bar getting drunk already, music coming from the back entrance to the stage. A homeless-looking guy hanged on the couch. He looked hungover. There was a wooden dilapidated staircase next to him. She glanced out the front windows, seeing Chloe arrive.
Okay, Rachel, go to the mosh pit and dance. Enjoy yourself. You're still you. You'll magically bump into Chloe and dance together. What a nice plan.
But Chloe didn't fucking come. Firewalk was already on the second song.
Rachel looked at the entrance and that's when her eyes met Chloe. It was like the world had stopped. Chloe looked stunning, even though she was wearing the same clothes she wore at school today. But that moment ended quickly as Chloe bumped into a skeevy guy and dropped his drink on his shirt. They argued and then Chloe left, not being able to come anymore.
Rachel considered her options right now. Chloe wouldn't leave without seeing Firewalk. She would find another way. Hmm... The dilapidated staircase. Rachel looked up and the half-broken second floor had a clear view of the band. Chloe would definitely be there. But it seems like the skeevy guy and his friend decided to follow Chloe, too. Fuck, Rachel had to hurry, but there were too many people in her way.
When she finally made it through, she ran up the steps, trying to be careful and not fall. She swore that the homeless man looked at her funny. Well, that didn't matter. Once on the second floor, she saw how the men were threatening her crush, cornering her to the ledge. Instinctively, Rachel grabbed a bottle and threw it at one of them. "Hey, dick head!"