Beatrice threw the balled up piece of paper across the room and watched as it landed on the head of a girl sitting in the front row.
The ginger girl immediately reached and grabbed the item off her head and angrily turned around to glare at Beatrice.
Sitting up in her chair, Beatrice made sure to give her one of her cutest and most innocent smiles she could. The girl wasn't impressed, however, which made sense since Beatrice didn't really expect her to be fooled by it.
Bea turned to eye the clock just above the teacher's head, checking the time and wondering how long she'd be forced to sit in this hell called school.
Bea swore she'd never make her children go. True, it might not have been legal, but she knew if she pulled the right strings, there'd be someway for her to get around it.
After all, if there was one thing she was good at, it was avoiding punishments. It wasn't even hard. It was like the world didn't want her to get in trouble, even though she always did her best to find it.
Between her status as the "last remaining Snicket" and her own skill, there was hardly any way for her to end up in any kind of predicament.
Which was something she LOVED.
However, besides her apparent "immunity", there weren't many advantages to being a Snicket. At least, not the way Beatrice saw it.
Everywhere she turned, some old volunteer, who she'd never met before, was running up to her and embracing her. Every single encounter was the same. They'd all hug her and tell her something she probably already knew about Kit, eventually ending the conversation by inviting her to some "tea circle" and promising to always be there for her if she needed anything.
It was all such bullshit.
Beatrice knew these people didn't REALLY care about her. How could they? They didn't even KNOW her.
But she'd been cursed with the same dirty blonde hair and soft greenish-brown eyes as her mother, so she'd be forced to live with it for the rest of her life. At least until she was able to escape the clutches of V.F.D.
Unlike her siblings, Beatrice wasn't quite fond of the idea of V.F.D. at all. From what she'd been exposed to, so far, all it seemed like was a bunch of snobs who made things more complicated than they needed to be and only did "good" when it benefited them in some way.
One particular encounter always stuck with Bea. A middle aged woman had approached her with a bright smile and began her conversation with Beatrice the same way all volunteers did, showering her with praises of her resemblance to her mother and finding some irrelevant fact about Kit to tell her. Then, of course, the "discussion" proceeded to the usual promise of being there for all of Bea's needs, no matter what they were.
For the first time, Bea had decided to test that promise to see if the people really meant all the things they told her. She'd looked up at the woman with the sweetest look she could muster up and began to explain, in the most mature way possible, how she and the Baudelaire's were dirt poor and needed a place to stay, for a little while, or at least some money to help them search for a nicer place to live.
She would never forget the look on the woman's face. It went from the usual warm expression Bea received from V.F.D. agents, to a sudden look of nervousness and, poorly-masked, disgust.
The woman then spent the next few minutes stuttering out an "apologetic" response as to why she couldn't help Bea and her siblings with their predicament.
Bea had heard all she needed to hear to understand who the precious V.F.D. volunteers really were, but Violet didn't seem to see it the same way. Bea tried to explain what'd happened and what it all said about the organization's, so called, "noble" members, but Violet merely brushed it off.
It was as if Violet were a different person whenever they were around agents of the organization. All other moments in her life, Violet was a cynical, depressed, pessimistic woman who barely had the energy to brush her hair in the morning. But whenever anyone from V.F.D. was around, Violet put on her little mask of perfection and tried to appear as the "perfect volunteer".
Even though it was clear to Beatrice that the agents couldn't care less that Violet and her siblings were struggling, Violet still felt the need to strive for their approval.
It annoyed the hell out of Beatrice.
After peering at the clock once more, Bea let out a long, and purposefully loud, sigh of frustration.
Even though she never stopped discussing whatever boring topic she was teaching, Bea's teacher glared in her direction, giving her the nastiest look she could.
Bea, of course, gave her best smirk in response, along with a little wave to top it all off.
Despite her being the only person in the administration who could easily see through Beatrice's mask of innocence, Bea was actually quite fond Ms. Ramona.
She was the only one who had the guts to challenge her. The only one who really ever thought to do it in the first place. Apparently Kit has been very involved at the school Beatrice was attending in particular, although she had no idea why, which meant most of the teachers, even those who weren't members of V.F.D., knew her mother and tended to pander to Beatrice. No matter how many times she ended up in the office, all she'd have to do was bat her eyes and everyone would swoon. If she gave the people even a taste of what Kit had been, they'd all fall at her feet.
But not Ms. Ramona.
No, Ramona Dell was a special kind of volunteer. One who didn't automatically get twinkles in her eyes at the mention of Kit's name. The only one who Beatrice had ever heard even dare to criticize Kit.
Bea had tried to use her magic Snicket charm on the woman. She used every trick she knew that had gotten her a reaction from the other volunteers, but Ramona never budged. She'd narrow her eyes at Beatrice and make it clear that whatever worked on the other agents wasn't going to work on her.
The woman even claimed to know Kit better than anyone else Bea had met...which might've been the problem.
She had yet to tell Beatrice any specifics, but Ramona would always hint at there being a different side to Kit that people hardly ever mentioned, which was probably the most thrilling thing about her mother Beatrice ever learned.
Even though the two continued to bump heads, Beatrice couldn't help but respect the woman. She, unlike the rest of V.F.D., seemed to, at least, have a grip on reality.
Bea smiled to herself and let out another obnoxiously loud sigh.
"Is there a problem, Ms. Snicket?" Ramona huffed, clearly already quite annoyed with the young girl's antics.
"Not at all, Ms. Dell," Beatrice reassured, baring a sweet smile.
Ramona gave the girl one final glare before dismissing the class, five minutes before the bell was scheduled to ring.
Beatrice watched as her classmates quickly filed out of the room, waving to her friends as they waited for her by the door of the classroom.
Bea waited til the room was completely free of students, before stalking over to Ramona's desk.
"What do you want?" the woman snarled at the young girl.
Beatrice was used to it by now. She didn't even blame the woman, since she had made that past couple of months quite difficult for her. No matter how hard Ramona tried to convince her colleagues of Beatrice's true personality, no one ever gave her the time of day. Everytime they looked at Beatrice, their eyes filled with images of Kit.
"I just came to see my favorite teacher, of course," Bea said, her tone laced with sarcasm, even though Ramona was probably her favorite.
"Bullshit," Ramona replied, rolling her eyes, "you want something. You wouldn't have came up here if you didn't."
"The fact that you know me so well is actually quite charming," Bea said smiling, "but don't be too frightened. It isn't anything bad."
Ramona sighed, turning to face the girl, her arms folded over her chest.
"Fine. What is it?" she asked.
"I want you to tell me something about my mother," Bea said plainly.
"Don't you already get enough of that?" Ramona said with a jaded chuckle.
"No," Bea sighed, a frown becoming visible on her face, "the others don't tell me things about her. They tell me what they saw her as, not anything she did specifically. I'm constantly bombarded with people saying things about how "noble" and "kind" and "selfless" she was. You see? Only adjectives. That might be enough for some individuals, but I'm an "actions speak louder" person, myself. The woman gave birth to me, but I feel like I barely know her. I want someone to tell me things she used to say and do. I want specifics, dammit."
"I swear, you're the oldest 11 year old I've ever met," Ramona said, shaking her head and letting her lips curl up into a slight smile.
"Well, clearly you've never met my siblings," Bea replied, rolling her own eyes and sighing, "they're basically prodigies.""You don't consider yourself to be one?" Ramona asked, eyebrow raised, "you're 11 and in high school. I consider that mighty impressive, if I do say so myself."
"I guess so, but not in the same way they are," Bea explained, "by the time they were my age, they probably could've been in college with full paid scholarships. Violet would be an engineer and Klaus some type of professor."
"Hmm, I'll give that to you. It does seem like something the children of Beatrice Baudelaire would accomplish, if given the chance," Ramona admitted, "what about Sunny?"
Ramona watched Bea's eyes divert toward the ground, making it clear she was thinking, before her mouth curled into a slight smirk.
"She'd probably have to wait," Bea chuckled, "she's not the best academic, and I doubt that culinary schools provide scholarships."
"And how would Violet and Klaus feel about that?" Ramona asked, curious to hear Bea's take on the attitudes of her older siblings.
"Well there's not much they can do about it," Bea evaluated, "but they've definitely made it clear that they'd like more from Sunny, even though at this stage of their lives, it seems quite hypocritical of them to say."
"Why is that?" Ramona asked, faking naivety.
"Don't entertain me," Bea said, crossing her arms, "I know you're aware of what Violet and Klaus do for a living."
"You're right, I am," Ramona admitted, "it just interests me, quite a bit. I wonder if Sunny has the same bitter attitude towards them that you do."
"Oh, she does, or at least she will," Bea answered simply, "although at the moment, there seems to be another thing troubling her, that takes importance over anything Violet or Klaus could say to her."
"And what is that?" Ramona asked.
"It's not my place to tell," Bea said with a smirk, "although, that's only because I'm in a good mood, at the moment. But it's more of an inner turmoil, if you know what I mean."
"That does narrow it down, but only slightly," Ramona said, "maybe you can collect more information on it, since her class should be getting out soon.""Nice try, but you can't get rid of me that easily," Bea complimented sarcastically, "you still have to tell me something about my mother. You've claimed to have known her better than anyone else I've come across. Who better for me to get information from, then?"
"Fine. She was a blonde," Ramona said simply, turning away from the girl and back towards her papers.
"You take me for a fool, I see," Beatrice scoffed, narrowing her eyes at the woman, "that's not the information I want to hear, and you know it."
"It's not my information to tell," Ramona sighed, in annoyance, "you can get it easily from other sources. Ones who know quite a bit more than I do."
"What sources?" Bea asked, accusingly.
"Once again, not my place," Ramona replied.
"How the hell am I supposed to get my information if you don't tell me who these sources are?" Bea huffed, her anger rising.
"You can go out searching for them, if you want," Ramona suggested, "but I have no doubt that they will find their way to you first. They've always been good at that."
Bea opened her mouth to retort once more, but a flood of children entered the room, signally Ramona to get up from her seat to prepare for teaching her after-school session. The woman looked back at Bea once more, smirking, and disappeared into her office to find her materials.
Beatrice huffed, in annoyance, once more, before leaving the room to join her friends in the hallway.
"What were you and Ms. Dell talking about?" Bea's friend, Sinclair, asked curiously.
"Everything and nothing," Bea growled, clearly still upset with her lack of information gained.
"Don't let it get to you, Bea," her other friend. Aurora, reassured, tucking a strand of her short red hair behind her ear, "you know she was probably just messing with you. You can't really blame her, since that's kinda what you two do."
"I know," Bea said, rolling her eyes, as she opened her locker to retrieve her jacket, "but it can be quite frustrating when I need something out of her. Then again, I recall that I've done a similar thing to her that time I set Janice's hair on fire."
Her friends gave her a knowing smile, as they were quite aware of Bea's antics, however their faces fell once they caught sight of the small crowd of women approaching them.
"Oh my! Tia, darling, I must say, I didn't believe you at first! But now that I see her with my own eyes, it's unmistakable!" the middle age woman exclaimed as she walked quickly towards Beatrice.
"Oh, it's understandable dear," another woman, probably Tia, replied in agreement, "I was quite skeptical myself, but once I saw and spoke to her, I knew it was true!"
The women quickly approached Beatrice, one of them immediately grabbing her face and pinching Bea's soft cheeks.
"Just like Kit's used to be!" the middle aged woman sighed, happily, "it's wonderful to meet you, Beatrice darling, I was a colleague of your late mother."
"Oh really?!" Bea replied in a fake astonished tone, her voice laced with sarcasm and annoyance, which those who were close to her could've easily detected.
"Yes! You're mother was one of the bravest and most noble volunteers we ever had," the woman continued, a large smile plastered on her face, "it's so good to see you following in her footsteps!"
Aurora and Sinclair snickered to themselves. They themselves didn't really understand the whole "VFD" thing, no matter how many times Bea had tried to explain it to them. But they never failed to enjoy watching a new group of people approach Beatrice, their eyes twinkling, and acting as if they knew the girl. Even more, they enjoyed watching Bea's little evil twinkle in her own eye grow as the people showered her with undeserved compliments, which had no basis since the people had just met the girl.
Bea always zoned out as the people repeated the usually script that came with every encounter from a fallen volunteer. She'd looked deeply into their eyes and picture them being met with an unfortunate accident, and it usually calmed her anger and made such encounters a little more bearable.
"Oh and don't forget her father!" Tia added, smiling.
"Oh yes, how could I forget?" the middle aged woman sighed.
Bea's head snapped up, her eyes becoming clearer. This was the first time anyone had even mentioned her father, who she had been told was named Dewey...a dumb name in Bea's opinion.
"I myself never met Dewey. Many of us didn't even think he existed," the woman continued, "but we were all so relieved when we heard that he and Kit had married."
"Oh yes, what a relief it was," Tia agreed, "no longer was there that threat of defection always tapping on her shoulder. She was ours for sure, then."
"What?" Bea asked in confusion. She'd never heard any of this before, for sure.
"Oh Tia, dear! We're going to be late!" the woman exclaimed, eyeing the watch on her wrist, "it was wonderful to meet you, darling!"
"Wait!" Beatrice cried after them, although it was too late. Just as fast as the women were there, they were gone.
Bea let out an annoyed groan. Twice today she had been close to gaining information and failed. Bea turned and saw Ramona watching her through her classroom window with a smirk, causing Bea to scowl back at her.
"What was all that about, Bea?" Sinclair asked, "you usually can't wait to get away from people like that, and now you're calling after them."
"Today has been an interesting day, to say the least," Bea sighed, "but dammit if I let it ruin my mood. That was the first time anyone had mentioned my father, and I was curious to find out something new regarding my real family."
"You'll find out something soon enough, Bea" Aurora reassured, chuckling.
"I better," Bea sighed, "I'm not sure how many more nostalgic volunteers I can take."
"But Bea, aren't those your people?" Sinclair teased.
"Correction. Those are...were, my mother's people," Bea said, her voiced raised, as she walked down the hallway, towards Sunny's classroom and away from her friends, "I'm my own person, whether they see that or not! I should be able to make my own decisions, godammit! No volunteer or Baudelaire can tell me who I am. I hate the hypocritical volunteers, and I'm quite fond of fire. I'm a baticeer, and from what I can tell about myself, a pyromaniac. I hate the fire department! I'm a VFD Villain, dammit!"
Sunny swore letters and numbers shouldn't ever belong together in a subject. It was like they were trying to set her up to fail. Everything on the board looked like gibberish to Sunny, which made it even more difficult since her professor actually expected her to solve the shit.
Sunny let out a quiet sigh of frustration. Math should definitely be illegal, she thought.
She couldn't believe there were people who were actually good at this stuff. The thought caused her mind to, once again, drift to the person sitting diagonally behind her. The person who was a genius at this stuff...and other stuff, as well.
Sunny immediately shook her head furiously, attempting to clear her mind of the thought. She was determined to go at least five minutes without a thought of them coming into her head.
It had been more difficult than Sunny had planned, though. Ignoring them, she meant.
It was supposed to be easy and quick. She planned to make up excuses as to why the two couldn't spend time together, until finally they were as distant as two strangers.
But it had proved to be more of a challenge than she originally thought, seeing as how there were only five of them in their friend group. So if Sunny wanted to hang out with anyone, she was forced to hang out with all of them, which included...her.
Sunny could tell that the others had easily figured out there was a problem. The two had gone from being inseparable and, basically, hanging on to each other any chance they got, to now hardly being seen next to each other. Sunny now made sure to walk on the opposite side of wherever the other girl was and did her best to never speak or make eye contact with her.
So far, Sunny had been successful, but her efforts definitely hadn't gone unnoticed. She felt bad, since it was clear that she'd made things awkward amongst the group, but she didn't know what else to do.
She knew what she was doing was sorta fucked up, but she'd made up her mind.
She was going to stay away from Brooke...for her own sanity.
"Paris, do you have an eraser I can borrow?" Brooke's honey-esque voice broke through Sunny's thoughts, causing her to flinch.
Sunny tried to catch her breath, choosing to focus on the sound of Paris shuffling through her pencil case, in search of an eraser for her friend.
"No, sorry B," Paris sighed, "Jake, do you have eraser Brooke can use?"
"Of course. I'm always prepared for the beautiful Brooke," Jake said slyly, clearly flirting, as he handed Brooke the eraser.
"Thanks, dipshit," Brooke chuckled as she grabbed the item from his hands.
Sunny listened as Brooke slowly caressed the eraser over her paper. Sunny refused to turn around and watch, but she could tell Brooke was watching her. She could feel her eyes staring at the back of her neck, and it made Sunny's skin crawl.
She heard Brooke place the eraser down her desk and let out a long yawn, that possessed quite a long moan by the end.
Sunny snapped her eyes shut and squeezed her own pencil, hardly. She refused to let any of this drive her crazy. She was determined to be in control of her own fucking feelings, for once.
She inwardly cursed Brooke and her stupid, beautiful face.
The little seductress knew exactly what she was doing. It was like she was punishing Sunny for ignoring her, in the best way she knew how.
And Sunny hated how her own body was responding. It wasn't supposed to be effected at all. Sunny had told it that, repeatedly, and yet here she was. Trying to keep herself from jumping on the other girl.
"I'll see you all tomorrow!" a voice said, breaking into Sunny's thoughts.
Sunny opened her eyes and immediately looked around the room to see her classmates gathering their things and slowly clearing out the room.
She snapped her head up to look at the clock, realizing it was the end of the school day.
"Alright so, I'm thinking we ditch the assembly tomorrow morning and go get coffee and cinnamon treats from Starbucks," Frankie's voice boasted to his friends.
Sunny reluctantly turned around to face the others, still attempting to avoid all interaction with Brooke.
"Frankie, why are you so interested in going to Starbucks all of a sudden?" Sunny asked with an eyebrow raised, "you've been trying to get us all to go there for over a week now."
"It's because he wants to see James," Jake explained, "he says he smiled at him once when he gave him his blueberry donut and swears he's in love with him."
"Quit trying to make me seem like I'm the delusional one here!" Frankie scoffed, "you're just jealous that he didn't notice you! Although, then again, who would notice you when there's gorgeous me to look at, instead."
"You're so dramatic, Frankie," Paris sighed, smiling.
"Despite his reasons, I like Frankie's idea," Brooke added, rising from her seat and walking over til she was standing right near Sunny's desk, "Starbucks it is."
"I agree," Paris said, "it's been a while since I've had a good frappe. Plus, I hear coffee is good for your skin."
"Where did you hear that?" Jake asked, curiously.
"From a super credible website called "I need an excuse to break my diet and drink coffee, so I'll make up a random fact to make myself feel better about it"," Paris chuckled.
"Ah Paris, I don't know why you're even trying to diet in the first place," Brooke compliment with a smile, "you look lovely, already."
Paris blushed and winked at Brooke, which caused the other girl to smirk in reply.
Sunny's scowled at the two girls, but hid it behind the sleeve of her hoodie. Once again, she knew what Brooke was trying to do, and she refused to let her win.
"Well you all have fun, tomorrow," Sunny said, standing up quickly, after she'd collected herself, "My siblings and I have things to do together, tomorrow morning."
"What things?" Brooke asked possessing an innocent tone, although not so innocent intentions.
"Probably some secret Baudelaire business they can't tell us about," Jake snorted, before Sunny could reply. For once, she was thankful for his obnoxiousness.
"It's nothing bad. We just have to take care of some things. That's all," Sunny added, making her way out the classroom door, quickly, trying to avoid anymore interaction with Brooke.
Sunny rounded the corner, picking up her pace, until she felt herself stumble, realizing she'd bumped into someone.
"Jeez, what's got you in such a hurry that you need to run over your own sister?" Beatrice huffed.
"Sorry, Bea," Sunny mumbled, glancing over her shoulder to see if the others had followed.
"What are you running from this time?" Beatrice questioned with a sigh after noticing her sister's discomfort.
"Hi Beatrice," Brooke's voice flowed, right into Sunny's ear, causing her to jerk in surprise.
"Ahhhh I see," Beatrice chuckled, eyeing each girl.
Sunny narrowed her eyes at Beatrice, who simply gave her an innocent smile in return. Sunny was well aware that Beatrice knew of the situation between the two girls. It wasn't like Sunny had, particularly, tried to hide it from her, especially not all those months ago.
But she also knew the kind of person Beatrice was and she couldn't afford Violet, or anyone else, finding out information they didn't need to know about Sunny's endeavors.
"Hello Brooke, how are you on this fine afternoon?" Beatrice asked overly politely, which received another scowl from Sunny.
"I'm doing wonderful," Brooke replied, in the same playful tone, "how about yourself?"
Sunny noted that Brooke's voice seemed to get louder in her ear, as if she were slowly coming closer and closer to Sunny.
"I'm doing just splendid," Beatrice continued to joke.
"Mmm good," Brooke's voice sounded like no more than a whisper in Sunny's ear, her breath tickling the hair on her neck.
"Breathe in, breathe out" Sunny silently reminded herself. Don't let it affect you.
Beatrice's phone buzzed in that instant, relieving Sunny from some of the tension that'd built up.
"That was Violet," Bea said, her tone flat, "she said we're going to have to walk home."
"Oh great," Sunny huffed.
"The girl is probably high out of her mind," Bea sighed.
"Oh, well," Sunny said quickly, clearing trying to get out of the situation as fast as she could.
"I would offer to walk with you," Brooke began, "but I've been getting the vibes that say I'm not welcome."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Sunny mumbled, grabbing Bea's hand and attempting to pull her toward the entrance of the school."Of course you don't," Brooke scoffed, under her breath, "excuse me for thinking it's odd when my best friend of 9 years starts distancing herself from me slowly."
"I'm not distancing myself, Brooke," Sunny said as she walked, still not turning around to face the girl.
"Then what are you doing?" Brooke asked, sighing, "because it's obvious to me when I barely see you anymore, when several weeks ago we were spent everyday together, like we usually do."
"I'm not doing anything," Sunny replied, picking up her pace, "I'm just...busy, that's all."
"Busy with what?" Brooke asked, exasperatedly.
"Why do I have to tell you?!," Sunny snapped, finally turning around, but still avoiding eye contact with the other girl, "you're not my g-!"
Sunny stopped herself, looking away and biting the inside of her cheek. She let out a sigh and tried to stutter out a response.
"I never said I was," Brooke replied simply, looking away from Sunny also. The girl reached up and brushed a piece of hair away from Sunny's face, "I'm here, whenever you figure yourself out. See you around, Bea."
Bea waved towards Brooke as she turned and walked back into the school building. A smirk formed on the younger girl's face as she looked up at her sister. Sunny looked off into the direction of their house, blinking a couple times before taking off.
"So, I was thinking I could make cheese lasagna for dinner," Sunny began.
Bea chuckled.
"So, we're not gonna talk about what just happened?" Bea asked, eyebrow raised.
"There's nothing to talk about," Sunny said, adding a small laugh to try and appear casual, but sounding more nervous.
"Right," Bea laughed, "nothing at all. That definitely wasn't awkward."
"Just don't worry about it, Bea," Sunny sighed, "I'm fine. Everything's fine. Everything's normal."
"You have an odd version of normal," Bea chuckled.Sunny rolled her eyes and walked a little faster, hoping to get Beatrice to forget the conversation.
"Well, on the bright side, now I can sleep at night without listening to the sounds of you and Brooke "wrestling"," Beatrice snickered, under her breath although loud enough for her sister to hear.
"Bea!" Sunny shouted, reaching out to grab the snickering girl.
Beatrice laughed, dodging her sisters' attempt and running off down the street.