One of these for Bianca with a dash of Zoe/Bianca fir good measure.
Hard as Nails
No St Trinian really had a pleasant story, it what made them into the trouble causers, the mischief makers, the arsonists, the bomb experts and pain inflicting geniuses that they were. Bianca was absolutely no exception, she'd grown up in a council flat near to where Taylor lived and she'd grown up with toughness drilled into her until it came naturally. Her dad had always said that 'the world had no place for softies, you gotta be as hard as nails and not let anything get to you. You have to be stronger than the strongest then no one can break you.'
Bianca had grown up hanging on her dads every word, he was an amateur boxer, nothing big but he was good, slightly stereotypical with his tattoos and whatnot though admittedly one of the tattoo's was her name on his collar bone, she'd wrote that herself aged six. His daughter liked to think of him as a grizzly bear with a big hulking form but a heart somewhere underneath it all. His cheeks were always slightly bristly, he liked his stubble and had the toughest brown eyes of anybody, EVER. Bianca's mum was similarly solid, she worked as a supermarket manager, snapping at the heels of anyone who stepped out of line within those walls. She hated slackers, she'd had to work hard for her spot on top, not everyone was so obliging to let a black woman take over. The area they lived in was filled with sniping people who whispered and muttered because they were racist and Bianca's dad HATED racism, it's what got him in that fight with the guy living opposite. It was nothing different than usual but he was always doing it and the Rude Girls dad was bound to snap.
He did and though he wasn't the greatest boxer in the world, he was good enough to pummel the idiot into a bloody mess. He got a few years for assault and Bianca had never been prouder. She was the only kid that the Wilson family had, she'd almost had a little brother at one point but a miscarriage prevented him from seeing the world, and so Bianca took it upon herself to keep up her dads legacy of not to mess with a Wilson. Bad things happened to you if you did. It was how she met Taylor, how they became friends, she'd seen Taylor smack a girl in the teeth and been brave enough to ask what it was for. They both hated it when anyone involved family, they got on like a house on fire after that.
Whilst her dad was in prison, the Rude Girl cracked her knuckles and used everything her dad had taught her in a good punch to make sure that no one dared to so much as think anything racist, anything against her family because despite the fact they were as solid as steel girders that didn't mean they didn't love each other, even if they never said it. They didn't really need to.
Going to St Trinians had been her parent's idea which she'd agreed to because she respected her parents over any teacher to exist, over any other adults in her life and besides, there were certainly worse places to go… like Cheltenham. She didn't know then that her own mum had gone there twenty five years earlier, the woman had conveniently forgotten to mention that to her, it had apparently 'slipped her mind'. Not that Bianca minded, she felt somewhat smug that she discovered that by herself actually.
Then she met Zoe and with both of them aged ten and despite the fact neither were officially in a clique everyone knew where they were heading, especially when they saw the pair fighting, crashing through the dining room, kicking, punching and biting. Some part of the young Chav was impressed by the fact that the Emo could hold her own against her punches which could leave most people whimpering in agony, the best she got with an enraged snarl. Of course they despised each other, the liked completely different things, hated what the other loved and something about them clashed horribly. Something, probably their matching determination, not stubbornness… determination. They fought constantly and came to an understand after a couple of years of it that it was kind of essential to their routine and it became almost a planned thing, one comment and bang! They were tearing into each other with insults that'd make a sailor flustered. It was awful, the tension, the hate, the malice, the loathing but after every year, and after spending the holidays with her family Bianca kind of looked forward to sneering something at Zoe and making her hiss. It was dreadful and however much it pissed the Rude Girl off to no end she knew that without it everything would be so utterly boring and meaningless even if her father was out now, even if they were there to back her up, to tell her that there was ALWAYS meaning.
The problem was that Zoe was ALWAYS going to be there to snap right back and annoy her but it didn't really matter because at the end of their last year somehow they'd ended up together. Hating the differences but not because it made them who they were, fighting but not because they weren't hating properly, it was stress and frustration and misunderstandings that made them fight and they were in love but not because they still liked to beat the crap out of each other over the small things. Bianca would continue to wake up though with that unbelievably infuriating Emo at her side and even if she were just that, an Emo and Bianca were a Rude Girl and they didn't really get along and they were simply crap at it she couldn't imagine Zoe not being there.
Bianca was as hard as nails, as tough as old boots but much like her dad, somewhere inside her was a heart that her rival had somehow managed to find and steal. Zoe stole a lot of Bianca's things… Bloody Goth… and Bianca suspected that, even if it rankled some piece of her, she wasn't going to be getting that rather vital organ back anytime soon.
"Bianca, shut up, you're thinking aloud again," Zoe muttered drowsily, laid half across the other girl who smirked because the Emo might have DARED to steal from her but she knew that she'd stolen one of her own and she'd be damned if she'd ever give it back. If she couldn't have her own, she'd have Zoe's instead… Fair trade innit? Not 'cause she was gettin' soft... O' course it weren't.
Review because the last one didn't get ANY and I'm loosing my motivation and will to write... Terrible I know, worse than... not dying, I say not dying because y'know, death is like life but with all the crap bits taken out like poverty, facism... and MILEY CYRUS. I just love that quote.