Clove hops around her bedroom, some Bleachers song blaring from her speaker as she gets ready for the day. "You steal the air out of my lungs, you make me feel it," she sings quietly along, shimmying into the school-mandated skirt of her uniform and buttoning her white shirt. Her maroon blazer rests on the chair in front of her vanity, which she slips into easily.
The notification of a text message interrupts the song, and she picks up her phone to see that it's from Glimmer.
b there in 10 beyotch
Clove rolls her eyes at the message, but still smiles fondly as she types back a reply.
don't get pulled over this time
She places her phone down and sits in front of her mirror, eyeing the array of makeup products. She hasn't broken out in a while, so concealer is unnecessary. Besides, she likes her freckles. So she settles for neatening up her brows and applying mascara, then snaps the wand back into place before reaching for her hairbrush and taking on her mane of bedhead.
She's heading down the stairs ten minutes later, dark hair pulled into a loose braid that falls over her shoulder. Outside, she hears a car honk and knows that it must be Glimmer. Grabbing an apple from the kitchen, Clove shoulders her backpack and walks out the door, shutting it carefully behind her so not to wake her father.
Walking quickly to Glimmer's (very expensive) car, she slips into the passenger seat and places her backpack at her feet.
"You ready for the best senior year ever?" Glimmer asks with a grin, her perfect blonde curls bouncing as she turns to face Clove.
"It amazes me how much of a morning person you are," says Clove, placing her apple between her teeth and buckling her seat belt as Glimmer backs out of her driveway. Glimmer laughs and takes off down the street, leaving Clove's house behind.
"Seriously, though, this is our year, Clove. No drama, no problems, nothing. Just college acceptances and awesome parties and endless time with friends. I have a good feeling about it, I do."
Clove can't help but smile at her friend's positive attitude. "Let's hope so," she says, reaching to turn the radio up.
Their next stop is only two minutes away, on the other end of Clove's street. Glimmer pulls into the driveway and, as customary, honks her horn. It's only another minute until the front door is opening and Cato is stepping out of his house, his backpack slung over one massive shoulder and carrying a duffel bag—no doubt his football gear—in his hand. Clove can see his sideways smile from the car as he waves, and she snorts.
Cato files into the back seat, dropping his stuff beside him. "Good morning, ladies," he says smoothly, leaning forward and giving Glimmer a quick kiss.
"Ew, PDA," Clove says, wrinkling her nose. Cato playfully leans toward her, and she blocks him with a hand against his face as she pushes him backwards. The three of them laugh as Glimmer backs out of Cato's driveway and heads toward their next stop.
Clove has been friends with Cato practically since birth. Their mothers were great friends growing up, and living half a mile down the street has its perks. They met Glimmer in kindergarten, and Glimmer and Cato began dating halfway through their junior year at Panem Prep. They're cute, Clove thinks, but a little cliche. Football captain and queen bee. Still, as long as they're happy, Clove is, too.
"Please change the station," Cato whines from the backseat. "I don't know how much of this electronic-indie-alt shit I can take."
Clove and Glimmer gasp in faux offense. "You take that back!" Glimmer demands.
"I am literally begging you."
Clove smirks and turns to Glimmer. "Hey Glim, I feel like the radio's turned way too low. Don't you agree?"
"Oh, yeah," says Glimmer seriously, nodding her head as she flips on her left directional to turn onto the main road. "Definitely need it louder."
Clove cranks the volume, Glimmer rolls the windows down, and Cato complains until they're pulling up to Marvel's house five minutes later. Their friend practically sprints out the door, calling something out over his shoulder before ambling over to Glimmer's car, slipping into the backseat behind Clove. "Hey, I love this song!"
Cato groans, and Glimmer and Clove burst out laughing.
Panem Preparatory Academy was founded 74 years ago, an elite and exclusive private school for trust fund kids and their legacies. It's this massive, fancy-looking brick building on a huge campus, with perfect lawns and freshly-paved roads. Truly, it looks like a college.
Clove thinks it's a bit much.
Still, she's a legacy. She may not be wealthy like Glimmer, but her mother was a top student at the school, and therefore Clove was able to follow in her footsteps. She was given some academic scholarship for her grades. Cato's in the same position as she is—both of his parents were well-known students and his GPA is nearly as good as hers, so he got off the hook, too.
"Well, here we are," says Glimmer, maneuvering into a parking spot and turning off her car. "You guys ready for this?"
"Let's make a fucking entrance!" Marvel hollers, and the four of them cheer before exiting the car.
If this was some dumb teen movie, they'd be walking in slow motion, their hair and clothes blown back dramatically by an invisible gust of wind as students and teachers alike stared on with awe and respect. At least, that's what Glimmer always says. Clove thinks it's funny. Regardless, they push through the large double doors and walk into the first hallway, their heads held high.
"Glimmer, hey!"
"Cato, how's it going, man?"
"How was your summer, Clove?"
"Marvel, new haircut?"
That's something that Clove grudgingly likes about Panem Prep. Contrary to popular stereotype, most of the students are down-to-earth and friendly. There are specific friend groups, sure, but no solidified cliques. It's an admittedly good environment.
The group greets everybody as they walk. When they reach the main staircase, they part ways—Glimmer and Marvel to their shared homeroom on the second floor, and Cato and Clove toward their respective ones on the current floor. Glimmer kisses Cato and hugs Clove, whispering a quick, "This is our year, remember?" into her ear before waving one more time and following Marvel up the stairs.
"She's so positive," Clove muses as Cato falls into stride beside her. They head to her locker, where she enters the combination and drops her backpack into the crook of her elbow as she rummages for unneeded binders.
"She really is," Cato agrees, then shrugs. "I can respect that."
"Of course you can," says Clove with a smirk, turning to look up at him as she closes her locker and shoulders her backpack.
"Well, she is my girlfriend."
"Oh my god, really?" says Clove, feigning surprise. "Wait, that's like, so cute. I can't believe you guys didn't tell me!"
Cato grins and shoves her shoulder lightly. Clove only laughs and bids him a goodbye as she enters Mr. Abernathy's room and he continues down the hall to his own locker and homeroom.
She slips into the room just as the final bell rings, signaling the start of the day. The start of senior year. This is our year.
She smiles.
Yay, first chapter! I'm literally so excited for this, you don't even know. I adore high school AUs.
Okay, so anyway. Elephant in the room. Yes, there is Glato. I know, it makes me die inside, too. But it's fine! Remember, endgame is Clato. Just give it some time.
I know this chapter's a little on the short side, but my goal here is quality over quantity, if that makes sense. I feel like sometimes I spend too much time trying to hit a certain word count, which can make me lose interest. For this story I'll be writing for my enjoyment, meaning chapter length will likely fluctuate, but also that updates will probably be more frequent. Still, expect every chapter to exceed 1,000-1,500 words.
So yeah! This is going to be drama, drama, drama. Very unrealistic high school portrayal. But hey, sometimes you need a nice dosage of cliche. Makes the world go 'round. I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! Leave a review, if you want to!
Also, if you're also a reader of Ask the Careers!, the next chapter will be up later tonight.
