A different POV of chapter 9.
Chastity Pearson resisted the urge to punch the dashboard of her car. Although it would be satisfying, it would also probably damage her manicure.
Ugh, that thought reminded her that she wasn't going to be able to even wear nail polish for most of the next year. She was going to be stuck in knee-length skirts, hideous vests and a goddamn tie every school day. She missed her Cheerios uniform already.
She'd planned to make her own changes to the uniform she'd been provided to try to make it look a little more appealing but that prude of a teacher at the orientation day she'd just attended had made it clear that no such alterations would be permitted.
All the other new students she'd met had seemed like total losers. How could she be expected to spend her senior year at a school populated with nerdy girls and no boys whatsoever? Especially when she'd put so much effort over the last three years into working her way up the McKinley social hierarchy.
Now it was going to all be for nothing. At Crawford she'd just be the new kid.
She'd told her parents about the travesty that prom had become with the expectation that her mother would just write an angry letter to the principal like she always did, hopefully preventing senior prom from being just as disastrous. She certainly hadn't expected to be shipped off to some stuffy private school where makeup and jewellery were contraband.
Having finished wallowing in her anger, she was about to start heading back to Lima when she noticed a familiar figure climbing out of the car that had just parked behind her own.
What was Dave Karofsky doing in Westerville?
As she watched, an unfamiliar blonde boy got out of the other side of the car.
Normally she wouldn't consider such a thing worth investigating but she remembered her mother saying something strange about the Karofskies a week or two ago. And it wasn't like she had anything better to do seeing as her social life was in ruins.
She saw that they appeared to be heading towards a restaurant a few doors down from where they'd parked the car. There was something… off about the way they moved together. They just seemed to walk a little too close to each other. As they entered the restaurant she could have sworn she saw Blondie's hand brush against Karofsky's arm.
Holy crap, was it possible her useless busybody of a mother was actually right about something for once? Whatever was going on here, it seemed like it was definitely worth a closer look.
She got out of her car and walked towards the restaurant. While pretending to read the menu displayed near one of the large windows, she looked inside to see where Karofsky and his companion had gone. She was stunned to see them sitting down at a table with, of all people, Kurt Hummel and that other fag he'd taken to prom. When she recovered from the shock she reached for her phone to take a picture. No one would believe this unless she had evidence.
As she was taking the phone out of its case she heard someone clearing their throat behind her. Some fugly old guy was looking at her strangely. Crap. In her astonishment at seeing big bad Dave Karofsky dining with the school's resident homo she'd forgotten to avoid looking like a creeper.
She headed back to her car and drove around the block a couple of times before settling into a parking spot on the other side of the street. Hopefully from this position she'd be able to get a photo of them leaving together.
An hour or so later she was considering giving up and going home when she glanced up from her game of Angry Birds to see the four of them leaving the restaurant. By the time she managed to switch her phone back to camera, Hummel and the preppy guy had already left. Just as she was about to actually punch the dashboard this time, she saw Karofsky look around nervously before holding the other guy's hand! This time she managed to get her photo. She examined it carefully. It was dark and blurry but hopefully when she blew it up on her computer it would be clear enough to get the point across.
She heard a car engine starting and realised that Karofsky and his boy toy were leaving. She decided it couldn't hurt to follow them since she was in no hurry to get home to her mother's pettiness and her father's disinterest. Besides, the more damning evidence she could get, the better.
She stayed as far back as she could while still keeping the other car in sight. When she saw it pull over she did the same. She watched as the two boys got out and walked towards a nearby playground. She quietly slipped out of her car to find somewhere she could observe them unnoticed.
After another half hour of surveillance she wasn't sure whether to be disgusted or overjoyed about the number of times she'd seen them kiss. She now had more than enough photographic evidence to bring Dave Karofsky's reputation crashing down into the mud.
Alright, she had her ammunition, now she had to decide the best way to fire it. If she was still at McKinley it would have been simple enough. Being able to take the credit for exposing Karofsky's dirty little secret would result in her own social status being boosted accordingly. However, the way things were, simply outing Karofsky, although satisfying, wouldn't do her any good in the long run.
The best option would probably blackmail, though she couldn't think of anything in particular she wanted from him. She supposed that didn't really matter though. As long as she possessed these photos, she owned him. Who knew what he would be willing to do to keep them hidden? As long as she was able to hold them over his head, he would effectively be her own personal slave. She liked the sound of that.
It would only be fair, she reasoned. All her dreams of spending her senior year at the top of the social heap had been ruined, so of course she deserved compensation. Suddenly, this year wasn't looking so bad after all.