Found Out

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except the plot & the girls. And Ryan. And Tormentor. And Coach Mike. And Katie. And Holly. And Emmett (although he's based on Emmett from Twilight/New Moon/Eclipse by the goddess herself, Stephenie Meyer). And Agnes. And Pop (who I'm thinking may be named Don, but I haven't quite decided yet).

But other than that, it's all Covenant.

A/N:

Lucky, lucky readers! Two updates in as many days! This one is kinda short, but I wanted to post something more to make up for my kinda long hiatus. Also, I wanted to add that I have a new poll up, this one concerning Becky. It's on my profile page, so please go vote (on up to 2 choices). I'm curious to see how my readers vote...


CHAPTER 12:

Corrie spent another day with her head in the clouds, only periodically brought back down to Earth by texts from Betsy informing her on the status of her leg. By three, Betsy was at their dorm room, leg securely encased in a thick plaster cast, waiting for Corrie to get back with her homework for the day. Ryan had left for work at Starbucks ten minutes earlier, leaving her with strict instructions to call him if she needed anything at all.

The taller girl dropped the books off quickly, leaving Becky to look after Betsy before sprinting to lacrosse practice, where she was pegged by more than a few hard rubber balls due to her inattention.

By the time she dragged her battered body back up to their room, Betsy was asleep and Becks was watching Oprah and taking notes on how to pleasure a man properly.

"Becks, what in God's name are you doing." Corrie whispered, taking in the ink stain on the other girl's pinky and the intent look on her face as she adjusted her glasses higher on her face.

"Oprah's having a special on sex toys. Shh, I'm missing it." Becky admonished, eyes never leaving Betsy and Corrie's 12" black and white television screen.

"Why do you need to know about sex toys?" Corrie whispered sarcastically.

"Hmah? Sex toys? Pogue? Wait, what? Cor? Sex toys with Pogue?" Betsy asked, cracking open an eye and muffling a yawn with a sleepy smile.

"Nope. Becks."

"Oh. That's less fun."

"HEY! I'll have you know, I am very kinky in bed and very good with sex toys. Sex in general, actually." Becky said proudly.

"Yeah, and that's why you're taking notes. Because you're a pro." Betsy quipped, swinging her leg out of bed and lugging the other to the floor. "I've gotta pee."

Seeing their blank looks, she elaborated. "Kinda need help. Full leg cast and everything. Should take about 6 weeks to heal." She explained slowly. At their looks of horror, she started laughing. "Gotcha. I seriously have to pee, though. So I'm gonna go take care of that. Which I can do alone. For the record." And she hobbled out of the room and into their half-bath on her new crutches, still chucking at the looks on their faces.

A beat passed as Corrie dropped her stick and goggles on the floor, not caring that it splattered mud all over the wooden floor.

"So what's up? Anything changed since school?" Becky asked, setting her notebook down as a commercial came on.

"Nothin'. What about you? Anything exciting happen?" Corrie asked, pulling her letterman jacket and sweaty tee shirt off.

"I gave birth to a pterodactyl."

"Who's the father?" Corrie asked easily, playing along.

"Reid Garwin." Becky answered just as easily, a small, secretive smile on her face.

"Hmm. Good." Corrie murmured distractedly, gazing at the charcoal drawing above her bed. "I'm gonna head to the library. Don't wait up, 'kay?" She asked, pulling a fresh tee shirt and hoodie on over her work out shorts and grabbing the sketch book Becky had given her for her last birthday, along with a fistful of soft-lead pencils, a bottle of water, and a Power Bar before slipping off to the quiet musk of the school's ancient library.

"Mm-kay. I have, uh, Lit homework to do, too, so I'll be busy. All night. Later, Bets!" Becky excused herself, glancing at the clock and closing her notebook.

"Bye!" Betsy called from the bathroom before hobbling out, toothbrush sticking out of her foamy mouth. "Awl be wover laider to talk about the Wit homwurk." She mumbled around the brush. Becks froze like a deer in the headlights, hand on the door handle.

"I'll just let you copy. I'll drop it off, um, later." She promised, closing the door softly, moving to her own dorm.

Betsy finished brushing her teeth alone before returning to the dorm room and seeing the stack of books a foot high from her numerous AP classes. She hobbled to her desk, booting up her computer with a sigh. Even with help from Becky, tonight was going to be a looong night.


The library was dark when Corrie slipped in through the old double doors, breathing in the musky air and marveling at the sheer size of the room. From floor to ceiling, books lined the ancient, dark wood shelves, most of them old and brittle, with yellowing pages whose only purpose for years having been to sit on the shelf and collect dust. She moved silently through the stacks, making her way to a dark, out of the way corner with a beanbag tossed down. Dull moonlight filtered through the dust motes in the air, shining in through a tiny, warped window. The beanbag was well-used to the point where it almost blended in with its drab surroundings, and slightly limp from bean-loss, but comfortable nonetheless, and the teen sunk into it quietly, feeling it mould itself to fit the shape of her body as the light landed on her hands holding the sketchbook loosely in her lap.

Tearing the Power Bar open with her teeth, she took a huge bite, followed with a swig of water. Then she just sat, looking and reminiscing. She had been coming here to this corner of the library since freshman year, when the Art 1 teacher had led them in here to draw a still-life of stacks of books.

She and Pogue had ended up back in this corner, shielded from the view of their classmates and teacher by two very thick, very conveniently placed book shelves. It had been here that he had drawn her hands, in a few long strokes, before pressing kissed to the palms of both of them. She smiled at the memory. He had always had a flair for the dramatic, the romantic, even as a freshman boy.

Of course, it was moments later that a certain dark goddess had stumbled into their little corner of the library, blushing and apologizing for getting so thoroughly lost and disturbing them. That had been the first time she had ever seen or spoken to Kate Tunney.

A frown crept across Corrie's face as she remembered how Kate's eyes had watched Pogue, the obvious crush she had on him, even after what she had just witnessed between him and Corrie. Corrie rubbed her arms to ward off the sadness and unwarranted jealousy before taking another bite of her dinner and flipping open the sketch book to a blank, creamy page. She ran her fingers over the thick paper, feeling the texture, before selecting a meticulously sharpened pencil and pressing it lightly to the paper, not even knowing what she was drawing.

She often snuck down to the library at night when she was feeling upset or confused, and just drew. It helped to clear her head and give her something tangible to focus on.

In moments, she realized what the gray lines on her pad were morphing into, but found herself helpless to stop it. His nose came into being first, then his brows and those lips she had trouble concentrating around, curved up in the smile she had only seen when he was looking at her. His forehead and jaw followed, then the infamous hair, slightly mussed, like he'd just woken up. She drew the beginnings of his shoulders from her memory of him that morning, and finally his eyes.

She was just putting the finishing touches on his eyelashes when her phone started vibrating, making her jump and nearly ruin the painstaking portrait.

"What?" She hissed, her voice low and hoarse from lack of use.

"Cor, it's midnight. Becks hasn't dropped off her homework yet and they're locking us in for the night. Come keep me awake until she can sneak over." Betsy commanded sleepily, although the sound of keys being tapped on her end of the phone never slowed. Corrie gasped. It couldn't be that late! Lacrosse had ended at 6:30 and she'd left her room around 7:30...

A glance down at the watch on her wrist confirmed what her friend's claims. She scrambled up, flipping her phone closed without another word and shoving it, along with the half-finished protein bar, into her hoodie pocket, followed by the water bottle and now-dull pencils, sparing one final look at the drawing before closing the book and scrambling up and out from behind the stacks, moving quickly and quietly toward her and Betsy's room, never noticing the silent predator watching her from the balcony, eyes black as the night surrounding them


R&R if you want another chapter.