Dead frogs science lesson is one of my favourite recurring clichés in high school dramas.
Take this first scene's "location" as a homage to "Yeah right" by fellow writer honoroconnor, an incestfield story that contributed to inspire OMIYS and that just happened to get an update (check it out). You can easily find it in the "Incestfield" community on FFN (it's on my profile).
[I had to split it in two in the end]
Chapter 34 – Dead Frogs and Other Crudities (part 1 of 2)
Part 1 – seeing things
November 27th, Tuesday.
So yeah, that huge fuckhead of Albert Wesker decided to ruin everyone's day with a lab lesson of the worst kind.
Apparently, for a teacher of his "stature" to teach biology without the helping hand of some dead frogs was unconceivable. Here's why Claire and her classmates found themselves sticking frog bowels with metal tools during second period.
Claire had always been a lab-day enthusiast. Be it either in account of her father's genes at work or else, yet to see how book theory applied in real life had always fascinated her.
Until that day.
That day Claire realised how profoundly she despised the smell of formalin.
She knew it was because of the pregnancy altering her senses, but really, this time it seemed to smell much worse than all the other times combined. And it sickened her to unmentionable levels. Her stomach wouldn't keep it together much longer.
To make things worse, her nausea was aggravated by the slithering presence of Wesker, who kept strolling among the long desks judging every student's doing from behind the impenetrable curtain offered by his omnipresent shades.
Thankfully, Claire could count on Rebecca, who really helped her stay grounded and present by her mere presence since, like it usually happened on lab-days, they paired up sharing the lab desk.
Overall, Claire had kept herself together pretty neatly so far, but when the sinister blond stopped by her and Becky's place, she nearly lost the little grip on her stomach she'd got. His proximity triggered bad, very bad and very vivid memories of him and his cold fingers gliding up her arms and around her shoulders, insomuch so that it made her almost gag.
Since that time when Wesker had quite viscidly tried to lure her to his place, with lots of unwanted physical contact and slimy manners and the excuse of some extra lessons, Claire had made sure to avoid being alone with him as much as possible. She'd never leave the classroom without Jill and Rebecca by her side and sure she'd never engage in any conversation with him by the hallways.
And to think she'd even found him being "smexy" until Chris told her what he liked to do to lonely girls – and definitely until she witnessed it herself!
Many times Claire had gone back at that occurrence with her mind, thinking that maybe she'd just let Chris's version influence her. Maybe she'd let Wesker's disturbing persona coax her that Chris had seen things straight when claiming the harassment. Maybe Wesker was just a good person who'd had the misfortune of easily coming across as a wicked reptile at first. Maybe he's just some awkwardly social dude. Maybe he truly only wanted to help her with her grades offering extraordinary lessons.
By his place.
Alone with him.
Mh.
Maybe he'd really wanted to rape her.
And rip her into a dozen pieces.
Maybe this froggy lesson was just a demonstration of what he'd do to girls if only he were to get his bony hands on any.
Maybe she was reading too much into it.
She was definitely reading too much into it.
"Miss Redfield," Albert's nasal voice butted in into her train of thoughts, "I'd be obliged if you would put more care into the dissection. This is a biology lesson, we're not butchering pigs at the wholesale market, and that's a bistoury not a gross cleaver."
Claire nodded and mumbled some quick excuse, feigning to focus more on the poor dead amphibian lain on the white plastic tray. To interpose a little more room between herself and the professor, who didn't allude to resume his tour, Claire inadvertently shifted a bit towards Rebecca, who was excitedly taking notes and drawing sketches of a piece of something she'd carved out of the frog's intestines.
His perfume.
His perfume was… thick.
It smelled like luxury and power and manhood and it'd been the only thing about him that Claire had always found alluring no matter what. But today... today it simply disturbed her sense of smell so bad!
Claire glanced up at the big clock hung on the opposite wall, above the blackboard, and sighed to herself. The bell was just about to ring.
C'mon, it'll be over soon. Hold on!
"You should separate the fat cluster from the left liver lobe so that it comes out clean," Wesker said, reaching on to gently grab Claire's hand and slowly guide it to a masterful dissection of organs and tissues.
His touch was even colder than the corpse lying in front of her.
Claire's stomach churned. Too much formalin, too much perfume, too much Wesker.
Something clicked.
"Exc-excuse me, sir," Claire muttered and retracted her hand from below his, leaving the metal stick to him, "I need to go to the toilet…"
That said, she exited the lab, ignored by her classmates who rather tried to fight against the clock in order to finish the assignment on time and gather enough notes for the test they'd bet their teacher would deliver any time in the next weeks without the slightest forewarning.
Once in the hallway, Claire took a deep breath but, apparently, fresh odourless oxygen wasn't enough to appease her nausea. She guessed it'd been ignited for good this time, breathing control couldn't save her. A retch in her stomach was building up and up.
Claire had hardly taken a few steps towards the bathrooms when the bell rang for real. In the turn of a couple of seconds, that hallway flooded with teens, each treading either towards their lockers or straight to the next class, minding their own business and careless of Claire's presence, much to her content.
Although nobody cared about her, this was still a problem. Claire knew she was going to spit the hell out of her stomach and the last thing she wanted was people around. Therefore, she decided to go to some bathrooms that, being a bit out of the way to the mid-period crowd, would grant her the sufficient privacy to throw up in peace.
And she better run.
As she dashed away from the crowd, little she knew of a dark set of eyes that heedfully watched her, peering from above the average heads.
She'd hardly made it to the stall.
So hardly in time that she hadn't even got the time to close its swinging door.
Coughing and retching, Claire looked down at the toilet bowl. The chewed remains of a pancake floated in a disgusting slurry of cocoa milk and gastric acid.
There goes my breakfast. Great!
Claire spat out the little of it that still burned her mouth and rose to a stand.
Her attention was caught by a human-shaped shadow that grew big in a blink of an eye and umbered the white tiles in front of her. Flinching, Claire turned to see who had entered the otherwise desert room, fearing to find out that Wesker had followed her up there, maybe with the dead frog in one hand and the damn bistoury in the other.
"Chris!" she gasped in relief, palming her chest, grateful to find her brother and not any creepy teacher.
The big boy towered right behind her, concern spread pretty much all over his face.
"What are you doing in the girls bathroom?!" Claire exhaled.
"I followed you. I saw you and you looked so pale..." Chris admitted, as he stepped on to cast a glance inside the bowl, "morning sickness, I guess."
"Yeah," Claire nodded, and grimaced in disgust, "biology lab stinks as shit. And Wesker fucking baths in perfume! Yuck."
Chris rested a warm-hearted hand onto her shoulder, gently rubbing it with the pad of his thumb, and inquired, "are you alright now?"
His cuddly demeanour ripped a little smile out of Claire. The girl placed her hand over his and squeezed it in an appreciative manner. "Yeah, quite so, thanks."
Chris hummed, pensively, and watched his sister reach out and flush the toilet, bidding goodbye to the former breakfast.
"Bye-bye," she whispered to herself, "you've been a delicious treat."
As Claire turned to leave the small stall, Chris looped an arm around her shoulders and drew her into a half-assed bear hug and a kiss on the temple. Claire let that little cuddle cradle her and undo the remaining knots in her stomach.
With her faced utterly squeezed against his meaty shoulder, she muttered "we'd better get going, Chris, before anyone finds you here."
"Absolutely," Chris agreed and watched her go to the nearest sink and wash her mouth with a pair of gulps of water, "next time you'll feel sick though, please give me a shout."
"What for?" Claire scoffed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, "it's not like there's much to be done but puke."
"Yeah, I know, but I'd like to be with you," Chris said, approaching and waving an arm towards the entrance as to accompany her motion out of there, "also, if anyone sees you, I can pretend I threw up too and make people believe we caught some virus or stomach flu or whatever."
"Or some of Dad's worst recipes," Claire giggled, "or that you're pregnant too!"
Chris's grin dropped, along with his knitting eyebrows. He didn't find it as funny.
Noticing his reaction, Claire sympathetically smiled, "sorry."
"It's fine, just don't use that word 'round here," Chris murmured, turning towards the bathroom door to leave.
"Alright, I won't," Claire conceded and, quite prickly, she added, "I'll add school to the list of situations where the normal name for my condition is banned."
"It's not bann- ugh! It's not like that!" Chris sighed, eyerolling as his sister preceded him to the door, "you just can't know who may be listening."
"Woah, and you add paranoia to the list of symptoms paternity's got you so far!" Claire joked, aware of the trigger potential of her words.
Chris frowned and glared at his sister in stern reproach before she pushed the door open with a sorry-not-sorry little grin and a shrug of her shoulders.
Following her right hot on the heels, Chris stepped into the hallway and caressed her ponytail. He curled his fingers around the base of her neck and gently pulled her closer so he could whisper in her ear "when I said I'll be by your side, I meant it, baby. Don't cut me out of it."
"Never said I would," Claire eyerolled, "but I can take care of myself."
"I know you can. And you know I love you so don't push me aside, okay?" Chris repeated, leaving another deep kiss on her temple. "We're in this together."
"Yeah, I know. No need to remind me," Claire said, walking along with him to mingle in the dissipating crowd.
Frowning suddenly, as if she'd just remembered some unpleasant thing, she glanced at him and asked, "uhm, will you please carry me to the lab room? I need to fetch my stuff there."
"Actually, my class in like in the other direction..." Chris answered, pointing at the opposite end of the hallway.
Claire implored him with a look of unease on her face, "please, Chris. Wesker's gonna be there alone..."
"Say no more. Let's go."
He'd been lowkey shunning Rebecca recently.
Not that he'd ghosted her or something, but Leon hadn't been looking much forward to their next date lately. Their last one dated back to Thanksgiving Friday afternoon, during which they shared some fun by the amusement arcade and, later on, some romantic moments on a bench by the boulevard.
Leon liked her, truly.
Rebecca was a real treat of a girl. But there was just this feeling stuck into his heart that wouldn't let him go… This something keeping him from giving himself to that relationship completely and pushing him not to take much initiative and be forward to her. Something that made him feel like a confused hideous guy.
Leon had kept quiet on his inner feelings and made sure to not disclose them to the brunette, which can be a hard thing to achieve given her naturally inquisitorial character. He'd never know how much she'd get out of his demeanour.
The Thanksgiving weekend, with relatives coming in town for a quick visit and all that stuff, had helped him under this point of view. To simply text with Rebecca had been much easier and… safer. But once they'd been back at school, Leon felt the need to avoid situations that would first and foremost remark to himself his own questionable ambiguity of feelings and that could also potentially give away his innermost trouble.
Lowkey-ish avoiding.
On that Tuesday morning, at the second period bell, Leon intentionally avoided walking by the chemistry lab where he knew he'd come across her. You can't really shun anyone if you don't meet them. No body no crime, isn't it?
Such decision determined for him to witness a very peculiar occurrence.
A scene that'd stick to his mind and obsess him for days to come.
Leon walked along the wall, drifting through the other teenagers, keeping a single strap of his school backpack hooked around his shoulder single-handedly. He simply carried himself with an untroubled air about him when his angel-blue stare was caught by the sight of Claire exiting the girls bathroom far ahead in the hallway… followed by none less than Chris?!
Leon immediately stopped walking, questioning himself if his eyes weren't tricking him. He leaned closer to the wall, semi-hidden by a hanging fire extinguisher, and watched.
Claire showed a bothered frown on her face and, even from the distance, Leon could see the heavy eyeroll she did when her brother grabbed her from behind and pulled her into his wide chest to talk to her in the ear.
To Leon's darkening eyes, that scene dripped Chris's stupid possessiveness all over.
Leon hated seeing Claire being grabbed by the neck, even if apparently so innocuously. He hated it beyond what words could express. That gesture bore a sort of assertion of dominance that repulsed Leon to the bone. He hated the sternness shadowing his buddy's face. That stupid, crazy, calculating control mania of Chris!
A deep scowl grew on Leon's angelic features. His lips tightened into an angry pout and his fingers curled harder around the backpack strap.
So now Chris was following Claire even to the bathroom!
What was he scared of? That she might fall in love with her own reflection in the mirror or what? Had he really got to this point?! This far in his mad jealousy?
Leon let out a pissed-off scoff as he watched the Redfields walk away.
He could hardly believe he'd really looked up to Chris in the past.
What a disappointment! His best friend and hero, his favourite role model suddenly showed these hateful traits and toxic manners! Chris sure had gone out of his mind. What had happened in Moon's Donut days before had been just a little taste of it!
Leon raked his fingers through his blond hair and absently scraped his nape as he mulled over that whole situation.
He couldn't ignore the fact that Chris had been acting that crazy since he'd been forced into carrying Claire's life for a whole month. Sure, he'd always showed jealousy when it came to his little sister, but things had gotten much, much worse recently. As though he struggled to let go of the complete control he'd had over Claire's "life". As someone once said, power corrupts only those who haven't got it. And apparently it was true when it came to Chris. He'd had such complete power, and now he failed to accept he'd lost it.
Leon sniggered scornfully.
He reckoned it must've been a real blessing for Chris to have had the chance of "minding her business", take decisions on her behalf and whatever else he'd done in that fateful month. But he needed to understand it was over now. The big fucker totally needed someone reminding him that the body-swap had been fucking fixed! Chris couldn't carry on with that crazy, manipulative attitude no matter how much Claire seemed to tolerate it.
Leon sure couldn't stand that.
He couldn't stop thinking about it.
About Claire.
Gulping down bitter thoughts, Leon peeled off the wall and headed to his next class, mulling over the lesson his friend Chris needed to learn before he'd ruin his sister's life once and for all.
Part 2 – RE-revelation
November 28th, Wednesday.
As she appeared in the front driveway, Robert waved a hand at his daughter while holding the leaf-blower with the other.
All wrapped in her burgundy coat and black scarf, Claire was just returning home from her ballet lesson, carrying along the blue duffel bag containing her ballet gear. It'd been nice to have those two hours of diversion from her present worries.
On the dancefloor, every trouble shrank and distanced.
The sun was already low in the sky, its warming light powerless against the chill breeze stirring across the neighbourhood streets. Much to Robert's delight, that gentle wind wasn't strong enough to take care of the fallen leaves on his behalf. Any weather was fine as long as it'd give him an excuse to show off his new leaf-blower and have fun with it. That was like the third time he used it since he purchased it! Conspiracy theorists might think he'd spread dead leaves on purpose, for the sake of his own personal entertainment.
Claire scoffed and shook her head when, predictably, her dad jocosely pointed the air-blowing tube at her as she walked by.
Jerk.
Once inside her home, Claire already foretasted a long, relaxing shower while hanging coat and scarf on the wall coat rack by the entryway. A very few things in this world can top the unwinding effect of warm water raining on you. Under the waterjet, every tension would just come undone. If only Chris could join her...
Speaking of whom, Claire wondered his whereabouts.
Since they'd parted ways by the bus stop on their way home from school, Claire couldn't help but feeling somewhat misplaced and uncomfortable.
Not that she couldn't stay away from him or missed him too much for doing well enough alone, not at all! Rather she lowkey feared that Chris, if left all by himself and alone with his thoughts, would just... do something as stupid as entrusting their parents' tolerance and blurting it all out. And Claire just couldn't get out of her head such fear.
Eagerly hopping up the stairs, Claire repeated to herself that it wasn't because she didn't trust him...
Once on top of the staircase, Claire grabbed the top newel post and swirled around it. Man's Cave door was open almost just for her to have a glance inside.
Chris, who sat by his desk doing his homework, seemed like he'd been waiting for her to appear beyond the doorframe, maybe that's even the reason why he'd kept the door open in the first place. He addressed her a curious, interrogative look to which Claire answered with a reassuring thumb-up and a convinced nod of her head.
Chris had soon taken the habit of checking on her frequently, especially since they had to keep carrying on their normal lives, doing their usual activities, not to raise suspicions on how abnormal and unusual their lives had turned. A little exchange of nods and other non-verbal communication was all it'd take to keep each other updated on the plan progression.
After all, there wasn't much to be done while waiting for Friday to come when the visit they'd booked will eradicate all their problems from the roots.
As noiseless as she'd come, Claire left Chris to his maths book and proceeded to Girly Room in which she met her mother roaming inside her walk-in closet. The girl announced her arrival with a tired and casual "hi, mom," and placed the duffel bag next to the low and fluffy beanbag armchair on the left side of the bedroom door – where it usually sat for five days a week.
"Oh Claire, you're back," Lily smiled as she walked out the closet, carrying the neatly folded bedsheets that Grandma Mary had gifted Claire, "I'm trying to find a place for these but your closet is so stuffed I can't fit it anywhere," and giggling maliciously she remarked, "a whole room is not enough for your wardrobe it seems."
Lily placed the pile of finely embroidered cloth on top of the chest of drawers and pinched her chin in a thoughtful manner.
Claire approached and leaned against the chest of drawers to casually rest and elbow on its top, joining her mother in the search for a storage.
"We could put them in bed now," Claire shrugged.
"No," Lily shook her head and pointed out "they're vernal."
"They're what?"
"Vernal," Lily repeated in her warm, mature voice, "it refers to springtime. They're not appropriate for this season."
"Oh," Claire mumbled, casually, "okay." She couldn't care less.
"You totally need to go through your stuff and declutter a little," Lily reproached, waving a hand at the closet direction, "you can't keep clothes you don't wear anymore, they just clutter and waste room."
Claire heavily rolled her eyes and huffed. Although it's particularly satisfying, she really had no intention to do any spring-cleaning now.
"Nah, that's vernal," Claire retorted with a snug grin impressed on her face.
Lily scoffed to herself, rolling her eyes since she'd basically just taught her daughter the perfect comeback to her motherly request.
Shrugging and winking maliciously, Claire walked into the closet to grab her red bathrobe and finally have that shower she craved so much that she didn't mind answering when she heard her mother ask from the bedroom "is it a problem if I store them with your beachwear?"
"It's the only place I can think of," Lily bowed down to open the bottom drawer and altogether shoved a hand into its contents to jerk them all on one side to make some room for the new item. "And it's not like bikinis get wrinkly, so... and... wha-…" Lily mumbled as a hard object lurking in the bottom of the drawer kept getting in the way of her movements, "Lord, even more clutter, I see, uh Claire?... oof, what is... the hell is th-"
Claire remembered a moment too late.
The loud gasp that resounded inside the closet was utterly useless to save her from one of the most embarrassing moments of her life.
Despite how forcefully she threw herself through the pearl-stringed entrance, Claire hadn't the time to stop her mother from extracting that one thing that she was never meant to find.
Lily's face grew astonished as she found herself with a... well, with dildo-Chris in the hands. Only that she couldn't know the name it carried, nor the real purposes it'd served.
Claire wanted to die.
Kill me please!
There was no damn way her mother wouldn't understand what it was. Its shape was unmistakable.
"Uh...u-h..." Claire stuttered, drowning in her own embarrassment as Lily slowly pivoted on her heel and shifted her eyes to her, an expression of dumbstruck surprise plastered all over her face, as she silently asked for an explanation for that staggering unearthing.
Lily was just as embarrassed. She wasn't equally expecting to find herself in a situation of such.
Lily was well aware that teens are like a tempest of hormones and curiosity and she'd always respected their privacy on that side, certain that they had to do their own exploration and stuff. Like, she always knocked on Chris's door before entering his bedroom and things like that, but this time her carefulness hadn't been enough to prevent the accident. How were she to know?
Ultimately, Lily saw it as a chance to catch up with her and have some needed conversations on those kinds of topics and see how her daughter was doing with her sexuality. She just needed to overcome her own shame.
Claire gulped down saliva but her throat seemed to become dryer and dryer. As soon as she recovered her speech, the girl uttered out some raspy and antsy "I can explain."
"You don't really have to," Lily murmured, noticing the note of fear in her daughter's voice. "It's... uh, weird, no, uhm... it's unexpected but fine."
"No, no, it's not mine, Mom!" Claire hastened to clarify, and lied, fidgeting nervously, "I don't use that stuff!"
"Then why on Earth is it here if it's not yours?" Lily inquired, not really buying it.
Claire mumbled some nonsensical sounds as her mind failed to produce any answer that wouldn't involve other people's reputations. She stood next to the closet entrance, unable to look at her mother and the gummy fake penis thing in her hands, in apparent discomfort. She could say it was one of her friends', or that she bought it by mistake or to prank someone or...
"That's mine," a voice from beyond Lily uttered.
As Lily accordingly turned her head, Claire quickly stepped forward and saw Chris standing in the doorframe. What the actual fuck?
No way he'd just said what he said! NO WAY!
The big boy briefly glanced at his sister and then looked at their mother.
"Yours?!" Lily wondered.
Chris nodded, sternly. "Yeah, I bought it online. Weeks ago." He spoke calmly, unblinkingly, not any particular emotion showing, as if the whole thing wasn't about a sisterfucking dildo.
Lily blinked in shock and placed the thing down, as though she'd suddenly remembered where that object was supposed to have been. She cleared her throat loudly and kept blinking in disbelief as she quickly collected her thoughts.
Alright, she might've overlooked it if it was her daughter's. It's something embarrassing to know about your kid, but it sure is not the end of the world. After all a fake penis is sure safer than a real one. But this revelation instead, it couldn't be ignored nor accepted.
One thing is your daughter willing to... explore her femininity in quirk ways. Another thing is your son exploring your daughter's femininity. Deep inside. Too damn deep inside.
"Is it true Claire?" Lily asked for further confirmation, intently eyeing her daughter.
Claire inhaled sharply and tightened her lips in a grimace of deep discomfort. She wanted to lie, but she was blocked. She should take the blame for that purchase but her own shame prevented her to. Chris had offered her such an easy and safe escape... She only managed to mouth like a fish out of water.
"Alright," Lily sighed waving her open palms in the air, needing no other answers. "I'll leave you to it, Claire. Tidy up the drawer and take care of grandma's present. Chris? A word. Come." And she waved at her son to follow her outside Claire's bedroom.
Claire's protest was useless. With an intense look and imperceptible nod, Chris reassured her he got this and left along with Lily.
Left alone with her shock, a question stormed in Claire's mind as she lowered on the floor to do as Lily requested: why did he do that?
I'm so screwed.
Thank you all for the patience in which you wait for the updates.
With this chapter officially starts a sequence of one of favourite teen drama clichés: the unreasonably complicated and illogic choices that characters make in order to solve their problems. You'll get to read a bunch of them, one worse than the other. I'll show no mercy.
Make sure to check for updates next week (today's July 15 2022), or otherwise subscribe to this story to get notifications or follow me on instagram. See ya soon.