1.
Amata first noticed things were different after an ordinary school day.
Amata had made plans to have a late night snack with her best friend in their usual spot after completing her work assignments for the day, but she was running a little late after struggling with a particularly hard math problem. She was already blurting out apologies as she entered the cafeteria but, shockingly, her best friend was nowhere to be found. Relieved to not be the only one who lost track of time, Amata made her way to their regular booth near the door to wait for the other girl and sat with a huff.
A few minutes later and with Amata halfway through a snack cake, the cafeteria door opened to let in Butch DeLoria. He honed in on one of the bar stool seats and reached over the counter to snag a bottle of water. Amata watched as he leaned back into his seat and fiddled with the cap. Sky icy eyes wandered over toward the booth she sat in which she met for half a second then away toward the empty spot across from her.
Butch frowned then hopped from his seat to head for the doors.
Weird, she thought as she tore another piece of cake free and popped it into her mouth.
Before he could reach the control panel, the doors slid open once more and in darted her frazzled best friend to collide straight into Butch. The mess of books she had been holding fell to the floor along with a few papers and pencils.
"Shit! Watch where you're going!" he snapped and Amata was halfway out of her seat to throttle him when she saw his eyes widen and jaw practically hit the floor. "Aw, jeez, s-sorry," he stuttered and hell must've frozen over because Butch DeLoria did NOT apologize to anyone or stutter ever .
Amata could only stare as Butch then proceeded to help her flustered best friend retrieve all of her fallen things and gently hand them over one by one.
"I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going." Amata heard the other girl mutter.
Butch simply shook his head. "Need to watch where you're going, kid. Could've hurt yourself. Here." With everything seemingly collected, Butch stood to his full height and held out one last item: a bright yellow pencil. Their fingers brushed, almost lingered as the two met eyes and Amata felt the hairs on her neck stand up as she felt a certain tension buzz between them.
She must've made some sort of noise because the teens broke their staring contest as if realizing for the first time that they weren't alone. Butch let go of the pencil to run a hand through his still perfectly coiffed hair. "Watch where you're going, nerd," he grunted then shoved the water bottle he still held into the girl's arms before sauntering out the door.
A beat of silence passed before Amata shrieked, "What the hell was that?!" A bright blush adorned the other girl's cheeks but she refused to meet Amata's eyes as she quickly shoved her things into the booth before sitting down.
"Just Butch being Butch." The other teen said airily, pointedly opening a book to dig her nose into it. "Lucky he didn't wallop me one. Remember when he stomped on Christine's toes for accidentally hitting him with her elbow? Anyway, did you get something to eat yet? I'm starving."
Realizing she was still standing, Amata sat back down and counted to five to get her rising blood pressure back under control. "I've seen 'Butch being Butch'," she said slowly. "And that was definitely not it."
"I don't know what to tell you, Mata. Did you want to see me get beaten to a pulp? I gotta tell you, I'm not really feeling the love right now. So, what did you get for problem 15?"
Amata's eyes shot to the book being white knuckled by the other girl. "Well, problem 15 would probably make more sense if you weren't reading the book upside down."
Said book was slowly rotated to the correct position then laid down. The teen behind it nodded solemnly.
"You're right. Much better."
Amata could only slap her hands over her face.
2.
Amata kept a close eye on her friend after that day but it wouldn't be for another month before something else happened.
Sundays were one of the best days of the week, in her opinion, because it meant three things.
One, YumYum Deviled Eggs was on the dinner menu.
Two, no chores.
Three, the weekly baseball games.
There were always two games, one in the morning for the adults and the second in the evening for the 'kids'. The teams consisted of mixed genders with teams switching players every season. It was an entire Vault event with various snacks, drinks and betting that the Overseer pretended to turn a blind eye to even though Amata had caught him sliding over a bottle of wine a time or two to one of the other residents.
Everyone was usually in a good mood regardless of the outcome of the games and Amata lived for it almost as much as her best friend did.
She wouldn't admit it but the doctor's daughter had a competitive streak a mile wide and it took a lot to get her distracted. So, when an impressive, but completely wild fastball clocked her on the side, Amata could only gape in astonishment from the acting dugout.
The teen practically crumpled to the ground with a pained grasp that echoed in the sudden silence which then turned into retching up a thin string of bile. Movement stirred from the corner of her eye that had Amata scrambling into motion to reach her best friend. A muffled thud of boots meeting metal flooring had Amata glancing up to see James sprinting toward his daughter.
Must've jumped, she thought wildly because the man had been observing the game just like everyone else from the second floor of the Atrium only a few seconds ago. Whose bright idea was it to have the only DOCTOR so far way anyway?
They both reached the crying girl on the floor at the same time but while James rucked up his daughter's uniform shirt to examine the wound with a critical eye, Amata could only run a trembling hand against the girl's hair and coo comforting words to her. A commotion on the field had Amata's attention split for a moment and made her blood freeze as she registered the fight that had broken out.
Butch had the pitcher flat on his back and was pulling his fist away from Freddie Gomez's bloody face. Butch's own face was twisted into a look of absolute fury which, wow, Amata had seen him angry before but nothing compared to that. Her attention, however, was pulled back to what was going on in front of her as Jonas finally arrived and crouched low beside them to help heft the hurt teen into James arms.
A low whine of pain escaped her lips at the movement. James pressed a soft kiss to the girl's forehead and moved with purpose across the Atrium and presumably to the Clinic. The crowd that had amassed parted at what must've been one hell of a look from the Vault's doctor.
Amata stayed behind, still in slight shock as she watched the trio disappear then turned her eyes back to the chaos on the field. Someone had finally torn Butch away from his prey because the boy was getting the dressing down of a lifetime from Amata's own father, the Vault's Overseer, who then proceeded to snag the boy's arm to drag Butch away from the field and to God only knows where.
Freddie, she noted, was sitting up with a red stained cloth pushed against his nose and wailing, "It was an accident !" and "Where's the Medic?!"
If Butch hadn't given him such a thorough thrashing then she might've been tempted to give him a sock or two of her own so she felt absolutely no sympathy turning her back to the kid to head for the Clinic.
3.
Amata had been assured by Jonas that her friend was ultimately fine but probably wouldn't be playing any baseball games for a while which was no surprise. She would be put on bed rest for the next three days, per James orders and would take about a few weeks to heal. The pain meds they had given her had knocked her out cold so Amata took a shower, headed to the cafeteria for bottled water and a wrapped up surprise for her best friend then wandered back to her own room for the night.
The next day she went to the clinic as quickly as she could. She wasn't surprised to not be the only person visiting the other girl but she was slightly amazed at who it was.
Slumped in a rolling chair was none other than Butch who had been staring at the sleeping girl in the medical bed in front of him like she was the only thing that existed.
"Butch?!"
Defiant looking blue eyes flicked over to drill into her own.
"What?" He straightened up a bit then crossed his arms and Amata could practically feel him plant his feet onto the floor as if challenging her to dare make him move.
"Nothing."
When she said nothing more he relaxed slightly as if he had expected an inquisition then looked interestingly at the plate she held in her hands.
"Oh! Lunch!" He reached out to grab the plate but Amata tutted and held it just out of his reach.
"Nuh uh! This is for the sickie over there."
A familiar, if slightly slurred voice, said, "Call me sickie again and see who else ends up in a bed."
The tension that had been balled up in Amata released at the quip. Eyes hazed with pain medication gazed back at her then moved down to the covered plate.
"If those aren't deviled eggs then I'm finding a new best friend."
Amata snorted and, without thinking, she said teasingly, "Oh, yeah? Who? Butch?"
It was no secret that Butch and his 'gang' of Tunnel Snakes had relentlessly tormented them throughout their childhood but after seeing how they reacted to each other recently Amata felt the joke fall flat. The light hearted look on Butch's face disappeared like a wall slamming down and her best friend wouldn't meet her eyes.
"More like Jonas, " Butch practically sneered, eyes darting to something colorful on one of the bedside tables. A small, perfectly folded paper flower lay on top with a small ribbon tied around the 'stem'. Amata's romantic heart flipped. She always thought the doctor's daughter and older med tech would make a cute couple with their constant banter and close friendship.
Butch, though, must've felt differently if the look on his face was anything to go by.
To try and diffuse the sudden awkwardness, Amata removed the top of the covered plate to reveal several perfectly cooked deviled eggs. "Well," she chirped. "Luckily I brought enough for the class so dig in!" It wasn't nearly as painful as she thought to share a snack with her drugged up best friend and ex(?)enemy.
When Amata returned the next day with a few bags of Potato Crisps, she wasn't as surprised to see an empty glass cup filled with paper flowers (all folded with varying degrees of skill) as she might've been before.
4.
There was an empty seat in Mr. Brotch's class that Amata might not have noticed except her best friend kept glancing back at it for the first few minutes of class. At first, she had thought the other teen was trying to tell her something or maybe pass a note but everytime she would make an attempt to look behind her by 'accidentally' dropping a pencil or paper, she would always look to the same spot at the back of the row of desks.
Toward the seat Butch normally occupied.
It wasn't until Mr. Brotch pointedly looked at the empty seat and announced that it's usual occupant was sick that she stopped trying to look and made the obviously barest attempt at paying attention to the lesson. When the class broke for a lunch break Amata cornered the other teen in an attempt to get to the bottom of everything.
"Okay, what the hell is going on between you and Butch?" she asked. Amata never was one for subtlety.
Nervously, the girl ran a hand over her hair and tugged on her customary ponytail. "I'm not sure what you mean, Mata. There's nothing going on. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have, uh, things that I need to do."
"Things." Amata said flatly.
"Yes! Things that can't wait so if you don't mind." Surprisingly strong hands shifted Amata to the side and out of the way so she could march determinedly down the hall. Amata gave the other girl a few seconds head start before following after her. She watched as the girl entered the cafeteria then left with a covered bowl of what must be soup then hightailed it to DeLoria's residence. What Amata didn't count on was for the girl to leave the bowl of soup outside of the Clinic's doors only to head straight in for a few minutes before leaving with a small packet of pills which she laid on top of the bowl to continue on her journey.
The teen didn't bother to knock on the door, simply let herself in and Amata glimpsed the seemingly passed out form of Ellen DeLoria on the living room sofa with a few empty liquor bottles of wine beside her before the doors shut. So, Amata waited.
20 minutes passed before the doors lifted again and her friend walked out with empty hands. Amata scrambled away and hid in a nearby room until the coast was clear.
5.
It took Amata a few seconds to recognize what seemed different about her best friend but when she finally realized what it was, she couldn't help but blurt it out.
"Your hair!"
The 17 year old across from her blushed.
"Jeez, Mata!" she hissed. "I don't think Stanley in Maintenance heard you. Wanna say it a bit louder?!"
Amata opened her mouth to do just that before her friend leaned over to slap a palm over her mouth. "Please just leave it alone!" she friend begged.
Amata had always worn her hair in a messy bun. It was low maintenance and as much a part of her as her Vault 101 jumpsuit while her friend always had her own put up into a high ponytail. To see her now with, admittedly, flattering below the shoulder layers and a face defining fringe was astounding. How could she have missed it?!
She was still staring stupidly at the blushingly bright red girl when a shadow cast across their table in the cafeteria. Butch leaned against the table with his back to Amata as he stared down her red faced friend, a familiar looking scrunchie dangling from one of his right fingers.
"You forgot this." he said and Amata could practically feel the smugness radiating from him. Before either of them could react, Butch pushed himself away to stand behind the other girl to run his fingers through her hair to pull the strands into a midhigh ponytail. Deft fingers tugged a few hair pieces free to frame her face then, with one last finger stroke down the side of her neck, he was swaggering away.
Amata flailed her hands carelessly in toward his retreating back.
"Don't. Say. Anything." The other teen groaned, head buried in her crossed arms on the table.
+1
Amata hated admitting that she needed help but her best friend had promised her some dedicated girl time and she was nowhere to be found. She'd checked all of her usual haunting grounds which were the Clinic, the cafeteria, the Atrium, even Butch's room and Amata had nothing to show for it.
How else was she supposed to deal with her growing infatuation with Edwin Brotch unless she had someone help her through it?
It took her an embarrassingly long time to realize that maybe she should've checked the Reactor Room Level because of course her best friend would lose track of time while shooting targets to let out her own stress. So she marched down the stairs, unlocked the door with a specially made key which she had swiped long ago from her father and bypassed the Reactor Room door only to halt at an achingly sweet sight.
A familiar looking BB gun rifle lay several feet from a well worn, jury rigged target practice area. The ever present fluorescent wall lighting cast a soft glow across a nest of blankets and pillows placed together with care. In the middle of the mess lay the self pronounced hardcore Tunnel Snake leader Butch DeLoria with one arm wrapped snugly around the hip of her best friend and the other acting as a pillow beneath the other teen's head.
Butch acted as the big spoon, laying protectively at her back with every breath causing the fine hairs at the top of the girl's head to flutter gently. Amata dared a few more feet closer to see a pool of drool gathering on Butch's sleeve and a familiar snore met her ears.
Amata backed carefully away with a contented on her face.