How The Light Gets In: Chapter One
I don't own Rookie Blue.
I'm new to this fandom but I thought we could use some more stories. Please enjoy.
I wonder why I'm only happy when I'm looking forward to something, and why when something happens it's never as good as I have imagined it will be. I'd like to know whether I'm the only person in the world who feels this way. —Hyland.
The new house was a far cry from hideous. It was actually really, really beautiful. Gail could admit that even though she wished that there were something about this place that would mirror the ugly way she felt about it. But the house wasn't it. It was elegant, the windows let in a lot of light, and her room at the top of the house suited her. Isolated. Windows that let in fragments of sun, warming her place on the bed. A bookcase. And the street? It was quiet and peaceful and lined with trees. Even the neighbours seemed nice.
She wished she hated it. But she couldn't because there was literally nothing to hate except the location. It wasn't the house's fault that she had been dragged halfway across the country. It wasn't the house's fault that she was starting in a new school with no friends and not even her big brother to help her out. It was her mothers and so all of her dislike would be aimed exactly where it always was. At her mother.
The woman in question heaved an impatient sigh. "Gail, I just don't understand why you are making this so difficult." They were standing in the mall. Stupid mall. It wasn't the mall Gail was used to, not the one she had hung out in with the gaggle of friends she had back home. "Please, just pick some new clothes."
"I don't need any clothes," she said quietly. She was happy with what she had at home, which made exactly zero sense to her mother because what she had was about five near identical outfits, none of which were dresses. The woman raised a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. She stared at her daughter, trying somehow to make her understand with the force of her gaze what she was saying.
"You are starting at a new school. You want to make a good first impression. And to make a good first impression you have to be?" She waited for a good minute, Gail blinking slowly at her, before answering her own question. "On top of the fashion, pleasant, and powerful. And a new outfit can help with all of that." Gail nodded obediently as Elaine not-so-subtly glanced at her watch. "Fine. I trust you to make your own decisions." Translation - make your own decisions and deal with your own consequences. "I have to get back to work. This has taken a lot longer than I scheduled it for. Just use the card I gave you and get yourself a few new outfits and whatever stationery you'll need for school. Okay?"
"Yes Mother," Gail intoned carefully, eyes fixed on a cracked floor tile. Elaine took in her daughter – hair newly platinum blonde, arm wrapped around her stomach, shoulders slightly hunched. She thought better of another lecture on posture and pressed her lips together. She didn't have the time.
"Alright. I'll see you at home." A quick touch to the shoulder, possibly affectionate, and then she was gone, back to work. What a surprise. Gail waited until she was out of sight before lugging a pile of clothes over to the register. Her mother would never approve – tight jeans, boots, sweaters – but the woman didn't have enough input in her life to really be a judge of anything.
The boy ringing up the purchase shot her a smile. Gail found her mind cataloguing him as she had been taught: late teens, reasonably attractive, muscular enough, long brown hair, brown eyes, a black tattoo on his left forearm possibly a bird, no piercings - sleaze. Recognition of 'sleaze' also made her aware of her surroundings, also as she had been taught. Bench between them. Lamp to the side that could be used as a weapon in dire straights. Several witnesses in store, more outside. She also noted the quick up and down glance that he gave her, lingering on her chest and thighs. Her eyes narrowed. "Is that all for today?" He leant forward. "I can give you my number."
"I can mace you in the eyes," she said in a quiet, conversational tone. He blanched and Gail smirked. "But I think we'll both be fine, don't you?" He dumbly handed her the bags. "Thanks."
It took Gail only four seconds to remember that her mother had driven them to the mall. So, despite bags weighing her down and a severe dislike of public transport that stemmed from an equally severe dislike of physical contact with strangers, Gail found her way home. It did end up being on public transport because there was no way she was walking fourteen blocks. Clutching her bags close and trying to ignore the woman next to her that smelt faintly of cabbage, Gail thought about how much she despised these moments. 'Learning moments' her mother liked to call them. At least she had money this time, unlike the last three surprise drops she and Steve had been forced to suffer through.
Then she had to get into the house. She knocked on the door for ten minutes before realising that she would have to break in – another test, uniquely Peck. Admittedly it was less of a test and more of a 'sorry we forget to give you a house key, we didn't really think about you at all when we planned this move'. Oh and a 'your father is far too busy to let you into the house, just let yourself in'. So Gail, still weighed down by her bags and trying not to attract undue attention from her neighbours, forced open the latch on the kitchen window and slid inside.
She hid herself in her room. Folded her clothes, read through some of her textbooks. She didn't go down for dinner, even when the garage door rolled up and a car door clicked shut and she could hear her mothers footsteps echoing through the house. Gail could hear the orders snapping from her mothers mouth endlessly, brief pauses as she hung up and then dialled another number. There was nothing to gain in going down and everything to lose. She stayed upstairs. And so it was very, very late before she acknowledged the rumbling in her stomach and crept down to the kitchen. She rummaged through the fridge for food. There wasn't a plate left for her in there. There wasn't any sign at all that her mother had come home or that her father had made anything. It was just one more big, fat sign that Gail was to fend for herself and she was going to get exactly zero helpful assistance from anyone.
'The world is big and dangerous, Gail, and you have to be able to look after yourself. You can't rely on anyone else to get you through.' Her mother's favourite words. And all they sounded like to her was an echoing 'you're alone. Again'.
Gail knew that she wasn't optimistic. She wasn't even pragmatic. She was a downright pessimist and it showed. It infuriated her mother to no end that her daughter – with so much potential, she liked to lament – continuously failed to strive, continued to retreat into herself, and fell short of every target Elaine set for her. And all with abominable posture.
"Sit up straight," her mother told her a final time before they were called into the Principal's office. Gail's shoulders shot back and her chin came up. An uncomfortable grimace showed on her face for not even a full second before the customary blank expression settled again. "And be polite."
"I'm always polite to authority, Mother," Gail reminded her. And, silently, even when they don't deserve it.
The door opened to the office and Elaine, forceful, attention-grabbing Elaine, strode in. "Belinda!" Gail's mother greeted, moving forward with a warm smile and an outstretched hand. "So nice to see you again."
"Elaine, it's been too long." They shook hands happily and Gail waited somewhat awkwardly behind her mother. She took in her principal: late forties, broad shouldered, soft muscles, glasses, purple dress purple accessories, purple streak in her dark hair (not confirmed), friendly smile - nice. "And you must be Gail." The woman extended her hand and Gail shook it once, firmly.
"Yes ma'am," she said softly.
"Please, sit. Now, all of your transfer papers are in order and your units are all accounted for so there should be no problems at all. I just need to go over your schedule with you, we'll confirm everything, and then tomorrow when the semester starts, I'll assign someone to you to give you a tour before school and to help you around for the first couple of classes. How does that sound?" She peered over her glasses and Gail just nodded. "Alright then," she said cheerily, not the slightest bit daunted by silence apparently. "Have a look over this and tell me if anything's amiss."
She handed a slip to Gail – her classes, she realised after a moment – and turned to chat happily with Elaine. Gail's eyes flicked down the page. Advanced English, Mathematics, Biology, Chemistry, Advanced French, Arts, Social Studies, and Physical Education. She nodded and then paused as the sheet was taken from her hand.
"Oh no," she heard her mother saying. "She'll be taking Advanced Biology as well."
"Really?" Belinda glanced to Gail who offered a sliver of a smile. "Well alright then. Just give me a moment and I'll rearrange some things for you." Belinda distracted herself for a few minutes and Elaine tapped the sheet.
"Were you going to say anything about that?" she asked her daughter.
"I didn't think it was necessary."
"It is necessary that you excel in every aspect, Gail. I know that you can do it." She should have felt some warmth at that, Gail knew, but it just brought a rising dread. So far she had done well enough but what if she failed? What then? What kind of Peck would she be if she failed a class? Or dropped out of high school entirely? She entertained that thought for a moment and let the strange and dizzying satisfaction of the yelping, horrified mind-Elaine entertain her for the remainder of the session until Belinda beamed at her and handed her the new schedule.
"There we go!" she said, enthusiastic enough to both make Gail reluctantly like her and to give her the beginnings of a stomach ache. "Gail," she said, folding her hands on her desk and leaning in, smiling so wide that the corners of her eyes crinkled, "I just know that you'll love it here. And don't forget that we have some wonderful extra curricular activities available as well in sports, theatre, the newspaper and all kinds of clubs."
"Thank you so much, Belinda," her mother answered. "You've been a big help," and sternly steered Gail from the room after the goodbyes and thank you's were shared. "You will be signing up for something. What would you like to do?"
"Track," Gail answered instantly. It would appeal to her mother – she was all for fitness and running was a big part of her future profession anyway. And it appealed to her because there was absolutely no reason for any of her 'team mates' to talk to her, no communication necessary, and she would have two hours of blissful peace and quiet a week where all she would have to do is run around a track.
"Excellent choice," her mother said. "You should think about joining the French club as well and trying out your language skills." Gail nodded. "And it couldn't hurt to make some friends in the Editorial." Gail nodded again. Whatever she wanted.
I hope you like this. I have a fairly firm idea of where I want to go with this but I haven't written anything out yet so updates will be infrequent. Also, I have exams coming up. This was mostly just to feel out if anyone wants to read this and whether I felt comfortable writing for this fandom. I love the characters so I think I will continue with this. Happy reading, Readers :)