Author's Note: The first two POV's are flashbacks from the party
Apparently the students who drank from the punch bowl were not the only ones who'd drunk alcohol that night. Holden had showed up, even though he wasn't asked to supervise. He told Mrs. Wilson he liked spending quality time with students. Well, that much was true at least.
"You look gorgeous," the old man whispered in her ear, and she did not like his tone one bit. "How 'bout you follow me to the storage room?"
The girl's eyes flashed to Doctor Watson, who was standing closest to them.
"I'll be right behind you," she heard herself whisper.
Holden was eyeing the doctor as well, then smiled at her and whispered, "Good thinking. You're getting the hang of working your way around the law by now, haven't you?"
He left her with her lips pursed. On moments like this she hated him the most.
It was one thing her treated her like this- but one word about her family. Of course she couldn't blame her parents for all of this.
She had her equal share in everything. How many times hadn't she gone out to assist them? And after that, how many times had she attempted to follow their footsteps.
She pulled the frilly white dress down a little, knowing it would be parted from her body as soon as she would enter the storage room.
Still, she felt her own legs transport her to it, her body growing numb with fear again. She would never get used to this.
If she could, she'd already have.
If this is what she needed to do to keep her parents and herself out of jail- this was worth it, wasn't it?
The light in the storage room was on. She paused for a second, took a deep breath and she opened the door.
The sight of Holden grinning at her like that would have been creepy enough without the growing sensation of claustrophobia she got from this room.
It was perhaps one and a half metres in width and three meters in length, and it was stuffed with cupboards filled with paint and brushed and other art tools.
Was this really all worth it?
A secret. She needed a secret. Louise hadn't been able to sleep the past few nights. She dreaded there would come a moment when S.K. just would say 'I'm sorry, this is taking to long. I'm going to tell everyone Jenny is with child' and it would be all her fault.
Louise looked around the room, not even sure what she was supposed to be looking for. Someone going outside, to smoke pot? People going off to the toilets to shag? People who'd cheat on their dates? All of these at once?
Luckily Louise was blessed with one talent. She could always see the guilty looks on people's faces.
But there were so many faces in the room she didn't know where to look. Maybe she should handle the situation as Dani had. Choose someone she hated- Who did she hate enough to- to sell to S.K.?
Fred. Fred and Oliver. Those names were the first to pop into her head. Fred and Oliver, those boys always felt superior to everyone else.
Louise searched for their faces, and saw the two of them sitting in a corner. Trust Oliver to sit aside when the other students were having fun. But there was something about the way they sat there, something not entirely normal for two friends.
Maybe it was just Fred's hand that rested on Oliver's thigh a little too long to be considered friendly.
All her friends in 4B had make jokes about them, but no one truly believed they were involved.
How sweet would it be to be able to confirm what had crossed their minds at least once?
Louise even saw Oliver smile at Fred, a smile that meant no good.
The two boys trotted upstairs, and Louise's breath caught in her throat. This was her turn. Her turn to help S.K. had come. Had Dani felt guilty, even though Stella had deserved it?
After some quick thinking Louise left her heels at the bottom of the stairs, had her phone ready and on camera and sneaked upstairs.
Before reaching the second floor Louise could already hear kissy, smoochy noises. Her jaw dropped. This was Christmas!
She lay down on the last stair, so her eyes could confirm what her ears had already picked up.
For a split second she had been afraid that Fred and Oliver would see her, but they were so caught up with each other she was just a fly on the wall.
The intensity of the kiss told her this had been going on for quite some time, and before she could forget what she was doing, she aimed the camera of her phone at then and pressed the button.
A loud click echoed through the hall and Louise knew she had to get up and sprint downstairs and hope that the boys hadn't seen her.
At the bottom of the stairs she picked up her heels and sprinted to the bathrooms.
Once she entered, she saw her own reflection, red-faced and wide-eyed, like an animal on the run.
She'd done it. She had her leverage. Something to keep Jenny safe.
Louise typed in the message on her phone and attached the picture. She pressed send with her trembling thumb.
She took a deep breath and leaned back against a stall.
Her phone buzzed: S.K. had replied.
Splendid! I knew I could rely on you, Louise, my dear.
Your little friend's secret is safe with me. I'll let you know when I need you again.
Until then, keep your pretty little mouth shut- or we'll have more Janes and Ricks.
xoxo S.K.
Stella Meyers was the last one who expected to have a headache the next morning, but the atmosphere of the party had been too tempting.
She tried to blink the sleep out of her eyes while rubbing her sore head. If the pain had been bad before, it was nothing compared to like when her mother opened the curtains.
That's it, she thought. I'm now officially becoming a vampire. Edward Cullen, here I come.
Stella had already missed the first hour. Her mom hadn't minded, though. Stella was smart enough to know secretely she was just glad Stella had behaved like a normal teenager last night.
Her mother had tried to feed her six peanutbutter and jelly sandwiches for breakfast, but only the smell had been enough to make Stella puke.
After having a massive argument, Stella had gotten her way and she was sent to school with nothing but an aspirine in her tummy.
On the bus she checked the regular status updates, Facebook, Instagram and finally, too.
You'd think she would find the site abhorrent since she had been in one of the most recent posts, but somewhere it felt good. She wasn't endangered anymore.
Yesterday had been the day of S.K. last update, about some girl who had ended up in jail for shoplifting in summer holidays.
Bo-ring. Stella sighed and refreshed the page, not expecting to spot anything new.
Then her eye fell on the date of a new post that popped up. This was from today. Three minutes ago!
Curios, Stella clicked on it and waited until the page had loaded.
Another news flash from last night's party, my dear readers!
Fred Richards (blonde hair) and Oliver Bellisano (brown hair) from 4B went wild last night!
According to my sources they've been sucking each other's faces for quite some time now.
Jackie Pavel, if you're reading this, I can't exclude the possibility Freddie dear has had a dirty little secret while you were seeing him. A wise move might be to inquire his true reasons for leaving you.
Of course I've included a nice little picture for the mistrusting ones amongst you.
Don't forget: I am everywhere and I know everything.
Bear hugs and French-kisses, S.K.
Stella almost dropped her phone to seeing the picture of Oliver and Fred together, the proof.
She couldn't believe it. Dani obviously thought there was no doubting it, but Stella had never doubted that Fred's denials were based on truth. Fred had been lying to her face.
She read the post over and over again, but only then she noticed the ending of it properly. Bear hugs and French kisses? S.K. had said that before, hadn't they?
Following her intuition she closed the post about Fred and Oliver and then scrolled to her own. It had the same ending. There was something else about it that bugged her, it triggered something in her memory.
Think, she commanded herself. You remember everything. Where do you know that from?
It took Stella a while before she could wrap her mind around it. Didn't someone else she she knew say that? It was very, very distinctive.
Then, in a moment of realization she gasped and clapped her hand in front of her mouth.
She remembered it very well, reading Louise's and Danielle's chat on their phones. Louise had left hers on the table while she had gone to the bathroom. Stella hadn't been able to resist.
Sherlock knows how S.K. gets by the secrets.
And, more importantly, at the bottom of the conversation, Dani had said,
Gotta run. Willow's growing more and more suspicious each second. Bear hugs and French kisses.
Stella couldn't believe it. This could only mean one thing. Danielle had been the one who told S.K. about Stella's little problem.
Well, Stella thought, gritting her teeth, if she wants to play dirty, I'll throw her back a handful of mud.
Without taking time to think it through, she scrolled down to where she could pin down a reaction and typed in one single word: VINDICTA.
The bus had reached school and so Stella got out, clutching her phone to her chest, not wanting to ler her conscience interfere. Danielle deserved this. She needed to learn Stella Meyers was not someone you could mess with.
Her phone buzzed, and Stella carefully peaked at the message, looking around timidly, checking if no one was watching her. She opened the message and read:
If revenge is what you want, Stella, I would be pleased to give it to you, since I am a very generous person.
But to get what you want, your dear friend on the website, we'll need a secret to put up there, too. You know what you need to do.
I'm always happy to help.
-S.K.
"This is is rubbish!" said Oliver. "They could have told us this a little bit earlier!"
"Mrs. Wilson only felt ill this morning, that's why first period was cancelled," Fred shrugged. "It's not that bad."
Fred grinned, bit his lip, and payfully ran his fingers along Oliver's thigh, higher up to his-
Oliver's eyes widened and he quickly removed Fred's hand, looking around and breathing fast.
"Are you mad?" he hissed. "We're not even alone here! People can see us!"
They were concealed from the other students by several shelves, in the Russian section of the library. Nobody ever came there, except for the handful of students who took Russian or Russian History.
The boys sat in between shelves on the ground, next to each other, their sides and legs touching.
"Hey, relax," said Fred bracingly. "I know you're still freaked out about last night, but I actually doubt it was S.K."
"Someone made a picture of us, Fred," said Oliver. "Even if it wasn't S.K., that does not comfort me in the slightest. How am I supposed to relax when- what if they found out?"
"You know, Ollie," said Fred carefully, biting his lip, "I was thinking, the last few weeks... They were some- er-"
He laughed softly, and felt his face go red. Fred smiled shyly at Oliver and tried to muster the courage he needed to ask his friend what he wanted to ask.
"I suppose I just want to know- er- we never really talk, Oliver," Fred said, with great difficulty. "What does this all mean?"
Oliver's posture changed, he pulled back his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He shrugged.
There was a moment of silence between the two.
"Oliver," Fred pleaded.
"Nothing's changed," Oliver said stubbornly. "We're still friends."
"Oh, really?" Fred replied, his anger flaring. "I don't believe this- well, if you should know, I never knew friends leave hickeys on each other's necks!"
Now it was time for Oliver to flush. He had stretched his legs again and looked Fred in the eye, a fierce glow in the brown eyes Fred loved so much.
"Lower your voice, dude," Oliver said, the his voice dropping to a whisper.
"I don't mean to argue," Fred whispered. "I just wanted some clarity. I don't get anything about this situation and I'm just scared I've misinterpreted your actions because..."
His words got caught in his throat.
"What I'm saying is, I guess, I don't want to hide forever," he explained. "I thought maybe this could turn into something nice and lasting."
As a response, Oliver edged away from him a little. Fred had been dreading this.
"Ollie," he pleaded, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, "If this is too fast, I'm sorry, but I had to know!"
"Don't touch me," Oliver hissed, standing up.
Then he looked like he realized he had gone too far. He tried to get rid of the moody look on his face and said dryly, "C'mon, we've got to go to class. Chemistry's starting in five minutes."
Unable to hide his disappointment, Fred grunted, "Okay, let's go."
He stood up and flung his bag over one shoulder, and started to sulk next to Oliver.
He was too deep in thought to hear the first girl giggling. Oliver, however, had noticed.
"Fred," he hissed, "Fred, she's laughing at us."
"You don't know that," Fred replied, harsher than he had planned.
But now Oliver had mentioned it, Fred thought he saw people laughing at them everywhere.
But it wasn't until they had entered the Chemistry hallway, Fred knew Oliver had been right.
"Hey there, fags!" called out a boy he'd never seen before.
Oliver sent a death glare to the boy but Fred took him by the arm, and tried to pull him away.
"C'mon, let's go, Oliver."
Oliver stood transfixed on the spot and when Fred pulled his arm he hissed, "Don't touch me!"
"Aw, sorry boys," said a friend of the unknown boy, "we didn't mean to cause a lover's quarrel."
Oliver bit his lip, the action that only further displaced the agony on his face.
"Let's go," Fred repeated.
Oliver went from not moving an inch to moving a lot of inches at a time, walking away as fast as he could without looking like running. Fred was hot on his heels.
They passed another group of boys, that moved to block Oliver's way.
"Get out of the way," he said briskly, as Fred stopped next to him.
"Watch your tongue, cocksucker," the tallest boy snapped.
"Byron, I bet he's just put off by your face," a friend of his said and the group laughed. "I'm way handsomer than he is. Don't you think?"
Oliver said nothing and tried to push past the group of boys.
"Oi, he asked you something!" snapped the boy called Byron.
"Just leave him alone, we need to get to class," Fred commanded.
"Oliver, do you need your boyfriend to stand up for you know?" another guy sneered.
"He's not my boyfriend!" Oliver shouted and he threw a punch at him, so he was finally able to break through.
Although Fred knew he and Oliver hadn't made arrangements, the words kept echoing inside his head and he felt like there was an emptiness in him he couldn't quite explain.
1. What do you like best about this story?
2. What could I improve to make it (even?) better?
3. Fred and Oliver: OTP/NOTP?
