Disclaimer: I don't own St Trinian's

It's the night after the heist, and the party is over. Drunken, sleepy and/or downright exhausted from all that dancing, we tread heavily up to the dormitory. Annabelle and I are probably the only ones in the 6th form who aren't drunk. We chat and laugh as we help the others up to the dormitory, and I smile at the thought that I finally have a best friend. Annabelle seems happy too, but there's something strange in her face that I can't quite capture... some sort of look. I try to ignore it, but it's getting out of hand. I swear I saw her wink at me during the party, but surely she wouldn't have been winking at me, surely she just blinked, or had something in her eye. Confused, I shudder and turn my mind to hauling Tara to bed; Belle and I found both the twins asleep on the stairs, and now we are carrying them back to the dormitory. They look so sweet when they are asleep, all traces of anarchy washed away from their faces. They look like helpless little girls, their lips pouting slightly, breathing heavily in my arms, their huge eyes shut tightly. I can't help but feel a slight maternal pull towards them. Anyone would, seeing their tiny sleeping faces. However, I can't help smiling as I think about what they're like when awake. All traces of cuteness are washed away, and they transform into mini anarchists. I look over at Tania, almost an exact copy of Tara. However, I can't help noticing that Annabelle is barely noticing the twin she carries to bed, and is instead smilling oddly at me. I turn away quickly, but can't shake off her stare.
This isn't right.

We tuck the twins into bed, and I go back to my head girl's room. But just as I am getting into bed, there's a knock at my door.
"Kel?" I spin around. That's definately Belle's voice- what's she doing here?
"Kel? Can I come in?" hearing my best friend's voice the way it was when she saw the Cheltenham team approaching at hockey... that frightened, out of place girl... it's sad, and I instantly let her in. However, my heart sinks when I let her in- her usually innocent face has that strange smile on it again.
"Um... are you Okay?" I ask.
"Never better!" she replies confidently, taking a step forward. I automatically flinch back- whoever this girl is, she's not Belle.
She ignores my flinch. "You know why?"
"Er... actually, Belle, I don't and, to be honest, you're kind of creeping me out."
"Oh, don't worry, Kel!" she laughs weirdly and starts coming forward. My eyes widen and I instantly retreat. Annabelle looks like a wild animal, stalking its prey- and, to my horror, I'm the prey.
"Tonight's the night I finally let my feelings out, let them be heard!" she yells out as if she has an audience. Okay, this is definately creeping me out. I can't help myself; I start running backwards until I hit the wall. However, Annabelle is approaching quickly now. Befire I can move out the way, she leaps onto me, trapping me with her hands.
"Annabelle!"I yell at her. "What are you DOING?"
But before I can finish the last word, she's grabbed my face and is kissing me.

I'm horriffied.
My best friend is snogging me.
I try to rip her face off mine, but she kisses me even more passionately. This is getting gross now- what is she DOING? Screams for help erupt from my mouth, but they're cut off by something being stuffed through my lips. To my horror, I realise she had just stuck her tongue in my mouth. My eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. This does NOT feel right or good in anyway. This is foul and disgusting and I have to stop her. I expect her to pull off and be as horriffied as I am and apologize, but she doesn't. Finally, I can't take this humiliation any longer, and I do all I can to make her let go- tug at her face to pull it off, claw at her arms, yank at her hair.
However, she mistakes this for passion and wraps her leg around me.
This is bad. This is VERY bad.
I don't want to hurt my friend, but she leaves me no choice. I draw back my fist and whack her in the head. She stumbles back, horriffied, staring at me in silence for a few seconds.
Then she gets annoyed. "What did you do that for?" she yells at me.
"I'm sorry, Annabelle, but you were just kissing me!" I shriek, pulling my hands across my chest to protect me from more disgusting girl-on-girl kisses.
"So?" she looks confused. I stare at her in horror.
"So? What do you mean, so? YOU JUST KISSED ME!" I yell. I feel bad for yelling at my best friend, but right now I'm not sure that she is any more. I'm horriffied that she just kissed me. It's not a nice thing to realise that your best friend is a... I can't bear to think the word.
"I thought you liked it!" Annabelle cried. "I thought you liked ME!"
"As a FRIEND!" I yell back.
To my surprise, Annabelle sniffs. I notice tears in her eyes, but she turns around before I can see her cry.
"No. " she whispers. "I thought- I had some INSANE hope, that it was something more than that."
I freeze and my eyes widen. We're both silent for a minute, and I realise the truth.
She loves me. My best friend LOVES me.
And I don't love her back.
Annabelle is sniffing now quietly, and I can tell that she's crying. I walk over to her slowly and try to put my hand on her shoulder, but she flinches. I feel terrible that I've hurt her, but it would be worse to pretend I love her back when I don't. I do love Belle, but as a sister, rather than as a lover.
"Belle." I whisper.
"Don't call me that." she says- shakily, but angrily. "You led me on."
I'm stunned. "What?"
She turns around, and I can see hurt in her tear-filled eyes. "You led me on!" she snaps. "Why else would you always talk to me, hug me, help me, hang around with me? Why did you nickname me Belle? Why did you stick up for me when everyone else hated me?"
To my surprise, I get angry at this remark.
"Because there is a thing called a FRIEND!" I yell at her, and she flinches. "JUST BECAUSE SOMEONE IS YOUR FRIEND DOESN'T MEAN THEY WANT TO SNOG YOU!"
Annabelle flinches, and more tears run down her cheeks. She opens her mouth to speak, but her throat is choked up and she shuts it. I instantly feel bad- maybe she's right, maybe I did lead her on... NO! I'll refuse to think like that.
"Annabelle." I say sternly, though I feel hideous. "You're my best friend. I do love you- but as a sister."
Annabelle glares at me. "That's foul." she growls. "As a sister. Yeah, sure."
I stare at her sadly. "Annabelle, you're my friend. But I just... don't think of you that way."
She stands up and puts her hands on her hips angrily. "Then why did you look at me in the shower as a prank? Why did you make me run down the halls naked and FILM ME!" she screams the last two words, and I leap back a bit.
"We do that to every new girl." I smooth down my hair and force myself to stay calm- unlike Annabelle, who is shaking with fury.
"THAT MEANS YOU DO LIKE GIRLS!" she shrieks, before gritting her teeth, her lips curling into a strange, mocking smile.
"So, why not me? Am I not good enough for you? Am I too ugly? Too fat? If I am, I'll change. I promise I'll change for you, miss picky bitch!"
"Annabelle!" I cry in despair. "I'm sorry, but I love someone else, someone who is-"
She cuts me off. "Pretty? Is it Chelsea? IS IT?"
I shake my head, and she collapses on the floor, going from angry and violent to devastated. I hear a sniff- she's obviously crying again.
"Please! I don't love Chelsea, I love someone who is-"
"Smart?" she whimpers. "Like Polly? Is it Polly? I'm smart too- please, I'm begging you, GIVE ME A CHANCE!" she wails, crawling forward and grabbing my ankles, sobbing into the floor. I can hear someone stirring in the room next door- Annabelle and I's screaming has woken someone up.
"No, Annabelle, It's not Polly and could you PLEASE keep your voice down!" I whisper- but she wails even louder.
Then she whispers one word- "Flash."
I turn away, Annabelle still trying to cling on to my ankles. She's right- I do love Flash in the way that she loves me, and I have ever since I first saw him when I was 15. And I'm sure that he likes me back...
Slowly, I turn back to Annabelle, who is sprawled on the floor. The poor girl looks a mess- her curls have half-deflated back to her natural straight hair, leaving a frizzy mess that is spilling down over her face. Her lipstick is smudged badly from the kiss, her eyeshadow and Mascara running from crying, her face red and blotchy due to the same reason. It hurts me to see my best friend look like that, but it also hurts to realise she always wanted more than friendship.
Slowly, I nod.
"Yes, Annabelle, it is Flash."
She stares at me, her eyes lost.
"So there's no hope for me, then." she whispers. "If you like Flash then you like guys and not girls and I have no hope of ever being the object of your affections."
I hang my head silently- I know it's true. I love Flash, and that means I'm straight, and Belle doesn't have a chance of ever being my girlfriend.
But I don't want her to think that way!
I want Belle to have a chance at a normal life with a husband and kids, and I've messed her up now. I'm a stupid person for doing that, stupid, stupid, STUPID!
"You hate me." Annabelle whispers.
"No!" I yell at Annabelle. "Truth be told, Belle, I hate myself."
She stares at me. "Don't make me feel guilty. NO ONE can hate you. You're the perfect, great, popular, beautiful Kelly Jones. And I'm nobody. Nobody. I am nobody." suddenly, she wails again and throws her head on the floor. Slowly, I approach her.
"Annabelle..."
Suddenly, she shoots up off the floor. "I'd better go to bed." she grumbled.
"No, Annabelle, we need to talk-"
She spins around, her hair whipping around insanely. Her eyes, surrounded by blotches of running Mascara glare furiously at me.
"There is nothing to talk about." she snarls, then starts storming off.
"Annabelle, you're drunk." I call. "Please, you'll feel better in the morning, I promise."
She ignores me, though, opening the door. I place my head in my hands, frustrated, and tug at my hair angrily. Suddenly, a loud crack makes me jump. Annabelle has punched the wall furiously as she stalks out- to my horror, she has used enough force to crack the wall. I stare in horror as she slams the door violently, causing the room to tremble. I throw myself down on my bed sadly.
I can't lie to her and pretend I love her. It would hurt her more, and I can't bear to hurt my best friend.
But what do I do?
I lay and cry into the night, and every time I start to drift off, I remember the night's events and jolt awake, my stomach twisting in pain and confusion. Finally, I can't take it any more. I need to think. I yank myself out of my bed, only to trip over the sheets and fall against the wall. I don't pull myself up, but lean my cheek against the cold plaster and shut my eyes.
Again, I ask myself what to do. Belle is my best friend- or, she was. She will probably hate me for eternity now- and I feel terrible. But I can't force myself to love her. Of course I love her, but not in that way! She's like a sister to me- someone to confide in. I don't feel anything for her in that way- I don't want to kiss her or anything slightly like that! The kiss she imposed on me didn't make me feel magical or anything. It just made me feel... sick. Not at her- at myself, for letting this happen.
Maybe she was just drunk. Maybe tomorrow she'll be better...
I'm unable to recall when it happens, but my eyes close and I drift into unconsciousness.

I wake up in agony. I've fallen asleep on the floor, with my head pressed against the wall, and as a result my neck feels like it's being stretched across the universe. I stroke it, but that just makes it worse.
Why am I down here?
It all floods back, and I groan, letting my head fall back down in agony. Great.
I just ruined my best friend's life.
I pull myself up off the floor, my bones just as stiff as my neck. How on earth did I fall asleep on the hard floor when I couldn't in a bed? That is weird.
My head throbs as I yank myself back up. The stiffness reminds me of the throbbing pain in my head after one drink too many, and that reminds me of a theory I have. What if Annabelle was just drunk? What if she feels more normal today? The kiss might not have meant anything. I hope it doesn't- that means that Belle has no chance of having a normal life if she does like girls. Not that I'm against it, but people who are against it will ridicule Belle, and I don't want that for her. I change quickly, not really caring what I put on. I end up in a bland, non-customised uniform, but I don't care. All I want to do is straighten this out with Belle, and I pray inside my head that she was just drunk. But all hope goes away when I pass her in the hall. She looks normal, her hair and makeup returned to perfection, but she gives me a sneer as I pass. My hands drop to my sides, and I grimace.
She hates me.

Belle doesn't talk to me all day. She ditches the classes we share, and I don't see her at lunch. Part of me is sad, but part is angry. Why is Annabelle treating me like this? It wasn't me who enforced myself on her. It's not my fault that I'm hetrosexual. But any thoughts like that are countered with ones like It's your own fault, you misled her. If you hadn't encouraged her then she would still be miss goody-two-shoes cheltenham girl who was normal. ?
And I know that those thoughts are right. I'm a monster who doesn't deserve to have friends.

There's only one person who can make me feel better. I smiled halfheartedly as I walk towards Flash's workshop. I know it seems cruel towards Annabelle, and if she saw me talking to him she'd feel worse, but I need Flash to restore my confidence. I push open the door, and burst in. All the girls selling stuff have gone, and there's nothing there except some empty shot glasses. A loud drip makes me jump, and I spin around. The Trinski nozzle pours some of the extreme Vodka down, staining the workshop counter. Each drip tangles my nerves even more. He's obviously not here, and I'm about to turn back when I see something on the desk.
Flash's hat, sunglasses and jacket.
I know that he'd never leave anywhere without them, so he must still be here.
"Flash?" I call lightly. My voice echoes in the dark workshop. There's no reply, but I notice a small light coming from the garage where the first-years paint Flash's car. Slowly and silently, I push open the door and scan the area with my eyes. Suddenly, I leap back, heart thudding, and dart away.
No.
No, No, NO!
Why is everything going wrong for me? First Belle, then THIS.
Flash, the man who appeared to like me and want to go out with me, was not alone in the garage. My hands clench into fists as I recall the name of the Posh Totty slut in the room with him. The girl who was practically EATING his face, her arms constricting him. The little brat that causes hatred to flare in me.
Peaches.
My new nemesis.

Author's note: Did you like it? My first fic! Soon, chapter two will be released! All final pairings have been decided, so no reviews can sway me. Final pairings will not be revealed until the end. Please review!