"Hey, Ultima!"
Shadow, who had just turned the corner away from the locker rooms, looked behind him, mildly irritated. He recognized the voice that had called him. It was linebacker Drago Lupis, a 6'4" tall, stocky, gray wolf senior. Shadow held his breath as Drago confidently strode forward. Drago was being followed by a good majority of the varsity football team, who should have been heading out to the field for scrimmage practice. Instead, they had decided to tail him in the direction of the weight room for what he could only assume was nothing good.
"What's up?" he said as coolly as he could, trying to appear unphased.
Drago smirked in a way that made Shadow mentally prepare himself. "So, how's it going with you and-?"
"Selena?" Shadow cut him off. "We broke up. We disagreed on the terms of the relationship. I tried to break it off peacefully, but she took it back out on me, hence the big fight," he answered, shrugging nonchalantly.
Drago gave a loud chuckle. "That's not what we heard," he retorted. The football team nodded in agreement, some looking at each other with eyebrows raised.
Shadow's face was flat but, in his head, he was grimacing. God, who set them up for this? I fucking know what you fuckers are gonna say . . .
"Dude, we heard that you broke up with Selena for Blaze Katba," an unknown voice from the middle of the pack yelled.
"Cheated on her, no less!" someone else crowed.
Drago chuckled. "Yeah, as well as the fact that you and Katba are getting it on!" He let out a gratingly fake laugh. "You're kidding, right? Like, you're not actually fucking that dirty hoe, are you?" he asked, laying an arm across Shadow's shoulders.
Shadow felt his jaw twitch. "No," he curtly replied. "And, for the record, it's quite rude for you to spread rumors about one of your own teammates.
Drago let out a loud laugh. "Aw, c'mon bro, I'm just playin' with you!" he chided. "This whole thing is really funny to me, is all. We're good buds, right?" he asked, a glimmer in his blue eyes.
Something about the way Drago asked him made Shadow deeply angry. Dropping the aloof act and letting his face contort into one of displeasure, he stared stonily back at Drago. "Since when?" he shot back, folding his arms.
Drago raised his eyebrows and cackled. "Ooh, seem like I touched a nerve bro," he sneered. "What, so you're actually having sex with the school's fleshlight? Is that what you're saying? Cause, like, that's the vibe I'm picking up from you right now, bro."
Before he could even fully process the jab at him and Blaze, Shadow gave Drago a solid shove back, much to the confused shouts and jeers from his teammates. "Bro, what? He was just kidding bro!" someone else yelled.
Drago's expression went from mocking to stony. "Hey, what the fuck, bro? You really wanna fight me over this?" he yelled back. "You really want to stick your neck out for that slutty Katba chick?"
"She's my friend," he growled. "Try me, Lupis."
One blink, and Shadow saw Drago lunge towards him, the muscles in his body contracting as he did so. Shadow was also athletic, though, and wasn't fazed. He countered Drago's lunge by bracing himself and catching Drago's upper body with his own. The teammates behind Drago started to shout and yell.
"Woah, woah, woah!"
"Don't take his shit Drago!"
"Guys, what the fuck?!"
Both football players, despite being different heights, were about equally matched in strength, both being mostly lean muscle. They locked eyes and arms with each other, Shadow out of rage, and Drago out of spite.
"BOYS!"
Shadow and Drago lessened their grips instinctively and turned towards the voice. A tall crocodile dressed in sports gear and holding a clipboard strode out from the direction of the weight room. It was Coach Vector, who was looking quite cross.
"I hope I'm not interrupting something I shouldn't be seeing," he said, staring down Drago and Shadow.
Shadow inhaled, trying to let the rage drain from his body. "You're not," he said curtly. "My apologies for keeping you waiting." He disengaged from Drago and started walking in the direction of the weight room.
As Shadow passed Vector, he saw him looking over the small cluster of team members. "Boys, you should have been on the field five minutes ago. I don't know what you're doing not on the field, and, quite frankly, I don't want to know," he reprimanded.
He looked around at group authoritatively. "We need to work cohesively as a team, especially since we're down Ultima for the remainder of the season. Now, get on out to the field. You'll be working with Remington until I get Shadow here set up with the sports medicine specialist. Now, go. I don't want to hear of any more fighting amongst you."
The team murmured in agreement, and turned in the other direction, towards the practice field. Shadow saw Drago turn away last, giving Shadow a knowing, smug stare. Shadow shook his head, and turned away, heading towards the weight room.
"Hey, you all right there?" Vector asked.
Shadow paused for a moment. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied.
"Just making sure son," Vector replied. "Just making sure."
Shadow said nothing else in response, and instead pulled out his phone, opening his messenger app. He tapped on his conversation with Blaze.
Shadow Ultima: Hey Blaze. Just wanted to check in with you
Shadow Ultima: You doing okay
Shadow Ultima: ?
Nothing . . . She left me on read . . .
He looked up from his phone and sighed, pressing his left hand into his forehead.
I hope you're okay Blaze . . .
Blaze awoke with a painful jolt. She had overslept through all of the alarms she had set for herself, and her aunt hadn't come to wake her up.
Shit shit shit shit shit!
Blaze scrambled out of bed and started throwing on the nearest clothes she could see. She had just managed to pull on a pair of jeans on the floor when she felt her stomach lurch. All of the memories of the previous day came flooding back. Her knees slowly gave out and she sunk to floor, her breathing speeding up.
No no no no no no! I cant go back today . . . I can't. I just can't!
Cradling her head and neck in her lap, she tried to control her breathing and steady it.
I can't face them . . . But I can't skip school like this . . . I'll get in trouble . . . Damn, I've really got no choice, huh? God, I fucking hate this!
She leaned up against her bed, lifting her head, and glanced at her alarm clock. 7:15.
Shit, now how am I gonna get to school? The bus is definitely gone, and so is Shadow.
Blaze pulled out her phone and groaned, standing up. There was no choice. Her aunt had left early for work, as usual, and hadn't woken Blaze up, as per Blaze's own request. Her uncle was gone. She had to walk to school.
It took about seven minutes to pull on some non-attention-grabbing clothes, tie her hair into a low ponytail, and grab a fruit bar from the pantry. It was going to be about a 45-minute walk to school, and she was dreading every moment of it. Lacing up her most comfy pair of sneakers, she sighed, glancing at her phone, and scrolling through social media, against her better judgment. In her Instagram DMs were a bunch of pervy messages from random dudes at her school, as well as an anonymous account that had sent her a slurry of insulting messages. Feeling herself grow more and more sick by the second, she hurriedly disabled DMs from non-followers and closed the app.
She reluctantly pulled her front door open and slung on a snug jacket over her hoodie. She took the first of what would be many steps down her front stoop and up the street towards school.
The graffiti was still there. If anything, there was more written there. But she couldn't tell exactly. Or rather, she didn't want to read it and check.
Luckily, no one had been in the halls when she had arrived, nearly an hour later than she should have been. She had managed to dig out her (now late) geometry project and as many school supplies as she could fit into her bag, to avoid having to visit her locker. She walked into her now nearly finished chemistry class, pink tardy slip in hand, and head down in shame.
She pulled out her phone under her desk and checked her messages. Despite having messaged Amy yesterday numerous times, she hadn't answered at all, even after Blaze had checked in on her to see if she was okay. She bit her lip.
It was halfway through French when she found out where Amy was. She was sitting in the principal's office, next to a very uncomfortable Blaze. Amy had barely acknowledged Blaze's presence when Blaze entered the office, only lifting her head and nodding slightly. Blaze tried and failed to get Amy to acknowledge her any further, which made Blaze feel even worse. But, being honest with herself, she couldn't blame her. After all, she had kinda blown off everyone yesterday.
The door to the office opened, and in came the Dean of Students, Amadeus Prower, and Principal Acorn. Both of them went to the opposite side of the large desk where the two girls were sitting. The principal went to sit down behind his desk, and the dean stood off to the side, just behind him.
"Good morning ladies," Principal Acorn began curtly. Blaze nodded in acknowledgment, and Amy mumbled a small, "morning."
The principal nodded a tight, small nod, in response to the timid response he'd received from the two girls. "Well, I guess to begin, I'll ask both of you if you know why you're here," he stated. "You girls aren't in trouble; I just want to tell me in your own words what happened yesterday. Mr. Prower and I don't want to keep you from your classes for too long."
Blaze and Amy looked at each other, seeing which one of them was going to talk first. Blaze had no idea what expression her face was pulling, but she could only assume it was one of reluctance. Amy looked like she was going to be sick, but she straightened up, leaned back in the rigid plastic chair, and started to speak.
"Someone graffitied our lockers yesterday," Amy said curtly. "And someone left a . . . a note in mine." She seemed a bit less intimidated, but still very upset.
Principal Acorn turned to look at Blaze, his aged blue eyes staring her down in a manner that made Blaze feel like she was being interrogated. "Would you agree with Miss Rose, Miss Katba?"
Blaze nodded mutely, then spoke out, her voice sounding surprisingly strained. "Yeah . . . or well, wait, I . . . I didn't know Amy's locker was defaced too," she finished, turning to look at Amy in shock. Amy chose to stare at her ballet flats instead of at Blaze.
"Miss Rose told us that both of your lockers were defaced, and that she received a verbally harassing note in hers," interjected Mr. Prower, speaking for the first time. "Did you receive a note in your locker, Miss Katba?"
Blaze shook her head, a knot of pity and concern starting to form in the bottom of her stomach.
Principal Acorn nodded in understanding and placed his folded hands in front of him on his desk. "Right. Well, as I'm sure you young ladies are aware, defacing school property is against the rules, and the defacing of your lockers was done in a particularly damaging manner. Do you have any idea who may have done-"
Blood rushed to Blaze's ears. Suddenly gaining a burst of passionate anger, she blurted out, "Selena Brenig!"
The three other people in the room turned to look at Blaze with varying degrees of surprise.
Principal Acorn straightened himself up and angled his body so he was pointed towards Blaze. "Right, yes, so, you think sophomore Selena Brenig defaced your locker?"
Blaze, suddenly abashed at her outburst, shrank back into her seat, nodding in response.
Mr. Prower spoke up again. "Miss Brenig? Miss Brenig has a spotless record," he told Blaze. "We've never had a problem with her rule-breaking before. She has not so much as a warning on her record."
Blaze couldn't believe her ears. Selena Brenig was a huge bully. There was no way she hadn't gotten in trouble for anything, right?
It was Amy who spoke up next. "It . . . It might have been Alysha Linehan . . ." she suggested.
It was Principal Acorn's turn to reprimand. "Miss Rose, Alysha Linehan doesn't have a record either. Do you girls have any evidence to support your theories as to who vandalized your locker, other than what I can only assume is a personal grudge?"
Amy and Blaze were stunned. They looked at each other with the same wide-eyed, disbelieving expression. What do you even say in response to that? The two highest authorities for discipline in the school didn't believe a word they said.
"Or . . . or it might have been Fiona G-"
Principal Acorn held up a hand to stop Amy. "Miss Rose, please stop." Amy flinched and decided to resume staring at her shoes.
The principal sighed. "Look girls, you have every right to be upset about your lockers. But unless you have proof, we cannot point fingers like you two are doing. Destruction of school property is a very serious accusation."
Amy narrowed her eyes, blinking back tears. "Our proof against them is that they hate Blaze! They will never leave her alone! They were the ones responsible for the mess in the cafeteria! They threw dirty water on her!" she shouted furiously.
Both the principal and the dean looked exasperated, much to the fury of Blaze and Amy. "We have no proof of the mess in the cafeteria either," Mr. Prower replied curtly, very clearly annoyed with Amy's accusations.
"If you have complaints about being harassed, please submit them to your girls' respective guidance counselors and the main office. That is beyond the scope of this meeting," Principal Acorn concluded firmly. "We are sending in janitorial staff to clean the marker off your lockers with rubbing alcohol. If you haven't already, please get as many school supplies as you can out of your locker and head back to class. If you get any evidence of who graffitied your locker, just bring it to the office."
Amy opened her mouth to argue with the principal, but he gave her a stern look that made her change her mind. She shot a teary glance at Blaze, quickly gathered up her things, stood up abruptly, and hurried out of the principal's office.
Blaze felt terrible. How do you even process any of this, let alone respond to it? There was nothing she could do at the moment, though, so she sighed and stood up, awkwardly clasping her hands in a self-soothing gesture.
Mr. Prower silently took his leave from the principal's office, nodding in departure to the principal and Blaze. Principal Acorn gave Blaze a look of mild concern. "Anything else on your mind, Miss Katba?" he asked.
Blaze felt the presence of a hard lump in her throat. She wanted to argue and yell at him, and she had never felt such a powerful urge to shout at someone in her entire life. How could two powerful men in charge of students be so incompetent? Did the trio have them under their collective thumb? She wanted to plead with him, beg him to believe her and Amy, to go and interrogate Selena and Alysha, to punish them. She wanted to cry and could feel the lump creeping up further and further into her throat, every muscle in her body was filled with burning anger, she could hardly contain herself-
"No, sir," she said, a slight tremor in her voice.
Principal Acorn nodded. "Best hurry back to your class then," he replied.
Blaze felt numb as she turned and exited the principal's office. She shuffled aimlessly through the still empty corridor just outside the office, glancing around to see if Amy happened to still be around. Luckily for Blaze, she was, as she had stopped about halfway down the hallway, staring numbly at her phone.
"A-Amy!" Blaze called out weakly. "Amy, wait!"
Amy turned around, quickly wiping tears from her eyes. Blaze hurried over to her.
"Amy, I . . ." Blaze began, slowing down once she had caught up to her.
"Blaze . . ."
"Amy, I'm . . . I'm so sorry! I had no idea they got to you too," Blaze spilled, stopping her run as she reached Amy's side. "I'm sorry, oh god, this is all my fault!"
"No, Blaze," Amy said in a shudder-y, close-to-tears voice. "It isn't your fault."
Amy's reassurance only made Blaze feel worse. She could feel the resolve starting to crack even further. "But, if . . . if I hadn't made Selena and Alysha upset at me, they wouldn't take it out on you too," she explained, biting down hard on her lip as she finished, hoping to retain a small amount of composure.
Amy turned to look at her friend, a mixed look of sadness and kindness on her face. She reached out and placed both her hands on Blaze's shoulders. "Blaze. Stop. Please. It's not your fault that they're doing this to y- . . . us."
She let out a shudder and slumped down, sitting with her back to the nearby wall. "I . . . I'm sorry, I know it sounds dumb, but I . . . I've never been bullied before! I don't know how to handle it," she cried. She have a very guilt-stricken glance to Blaze before burying her head in her knees. "And the shit they said to me was horrible! They told me to kill myself!" she cried.
Blaze sat down next to her. She wiped the silent tears that had pooled under her eyes. "You . . .We shouldn't have to handle this," she assured, feeling like she was talking to just her friend instead of to both of them. "And they're wrong. Everything they said about you was wrong Amy. You're better here with all of us, and you're an incredibly talented cheerleader. I bet everyone one the JV team agrees with me."
Amy looked up, and wiped her tears on her shirt sleeves. "R-really?"
"Oh my god, yes!" Blaze exclaimed. "You are one of my best friends. You mean so much to me. And trust me, I've seen you perform. You're an incredible flyer, and you do amazing tumbles. I wish my aerials were as good as some of yours. You deserve your place on the cheer team."
Amy gave a weak but genuine smile. "Thanks . . . And, for the record, your dancing is really good too."
Neither of them said anything for a while. The silence of the hallways was deafening, occasionally punctured by sniffles.
Finally, after a while, Amy spoke up again. "Hey, I'm sorry, Blaze" She gave a long sniff.
Blaze snapped out of her daze and turned to look at her friend. "For what?" she asked, confused.
"For ghosting you," Amy replied. "And for dumping my stuff on you."
Blaze couldn't believe her ears, but in a relieved or sympathetic sort of way. "Amy, you didn't do anything wrong," she said, almost laughing out of relief. She lunged forward and wrapped Amy in a tight hug. Amy softened and returned the hug.
"Thanks, I needed that. You're a great friend," Amy replied, a smile finally appearing on her face. The two broke apart and decided to stand up.
Amy seemed to have cheered up a bit. Blaze smiled and replied, "You're a pretty damn good friend too."
At that moment the bell rang, and a couple of seconds after the hall quickly filled with bustle of students. Amy and Blaze looked at each other, gave slight smiles to each other, and turned in the direction of their personal finance class.
"Promise you'll message me next time you're upset? Cause I've got your back," Blaze asked, trying her best to be lighthearted, in spite of the circumstances.
Amy looked back and smirked. "Only if you promise to do the same," she replied. "I've got yours too."
Blaze smiled. "Deal."
"Deal," Amy agreed.
The two giggled in spite of themselves and everything around them, joining the masses of students in the corridor.
Alysha was sitting in her Audi in the mostly-vacant student parking lot with Selena when Fiona opened the rear passenger door and slid into the backseat. "The janitorial staff is cleaning off her locker. Saw it briefly on my way out." Fiona reported. She reached into her pocket and threw a wad of cash at Alysha. "Listen, not to be rude, but I'm gonna pass on marking up her locker again. They've already cleaned it up, and I've already got a target on my back from everyone in that damn place. You want it marked, you do it yourself from now on."
"Okay, first off, chill," Alysha said, sipping from an iced tea and snatching up the money. She stuffed it back into her black Versace handbag. "There's no need to throw my money around. Second of all, both you and Scourge jumped at the chance to a couple days ago. Why give up now?"
Fiona resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "They weren't on the lookout then. Now they know someone's going around defacing school property. Besides, Scourge is in enough hot water as is. You don't want him to get into more trouble, do you?"
"Obviously not, Fi," Alysha huffed. "Listen, you aren't him, so can you just do it?"
"Can't you?" countered Fiona.
"You know I can't, I've got Poms practice early in the morning. Besides, my school record is clean. It needs to be if I want to go to university in Mobotropolis."
"Jesus girl, you really do want to go to Spagonia University, don't you?" Fiona loudly muttered to herself.
Alysha turned around and gave her friend a glare. "Hey, I don't judge whatever your stupid plans are for after high school, don't judge mine."
"Going into the trades is hardly stupid," countered a now very annoyed Fiona, her eyes narrowing. "Just get your dad to buy your way in, like he does with everything else," she said, pulling a nail file out of her pants and sanding down her left thumb.
"Get yours to bail you out of jail, cause lord knows you'll eventually need it," Alysha snapped back.
Fiona looked up from her nails, her face going dark. "Take that back!"
"Only after you just write on that damn girl's locker again!"
"GUYS! STOP IT!" shrieked Selena. Both of them looked at Selena, surprised. Selena went pink, took a deep breath, and asked, "Fiona, if we both pay you to do it, will you? It would mean a lot to me."
Fiona's expression softened a bit. "I appreciate the offer, but no, not worth it."
Alysha had found her voice again. "Not even to use as weed money?" she asked, taking another sip of iced tea.
"I don't need your bougie-ass money to get weed, I've got family and other friends to do that for me," Fiona sulked.
"Fine then," Alysha said, rolling her eyes. "I'm not in the mood to argue anymore anyway."
An uncomfortable silence fell over the group.
"Now what?" whined Selena. "We had a plan and we were gonna stick with it!"
"Calm your tits," Alysha said. "There's gotta be something we can do besides writing on her locker. I mean, it's not like Blaze's invulnerable or anything. Everyone's got weak spots. There has to be something we can do to make her crack."
Despite Alysha's insistence that there was something they could to besides writing on Blaze's locker, no one had any suggestions.
"If no one has any ideas, I'll be going then. I don't have time for pointless and petty stuff tonight," Fiona huffed. She was about to open the car door and leave, but was interrupted by Alysha's phone vibrating in her purse.
"Who's it from?" asked Selena.
"Scourge," Alysha replied. There was a pause as Alysha read the text. Then, her face broke into a grin as she rapidly typed out her reply. "Buckle up, girls,"
"What?" the other two asked simultaneously.
"I've got just the thing we need."
"Babe, can you just tell us what it is already?" Alysha asked Scourge in sweet sounding voice, yelling up a flight of stairs.
"In a minute hon," Scourge called from upstairs. "I'm getting us drinks!"
The three girls were at Scourge's house, in his basement. They were sitting in lumpy but comfortable furniture in front of an older flat-screen TV and had rested their things on a cheap-looking coffee table. Both Alysha and Selena were on their phones, and Fiona had resumed idly filing her nails.
"I'm back," he said cheerfully as he reentered the basement, holding three cans, a bottle of vodka, bottle of Coca-Cola and a plastic bag filled with what looked like green shreds of paper.
"Three Smirnoff Ices for you lovely ladies," he said charmingly, handing a tallboy can to each. "And vodka for me," he said with a grin, grabbing a slightly dirty glass off of the coffee table. He quickly filled the short, fat glass with the crystal clear liquid and took a large swig, followed by a swig of coke.
"Give me some of that," Alysha said, making a grab for the bottle. "I want something stronger." Scourge grinned at his girlfriend and passed her the vodka. Alysha quickly gulped down a few mouthfuls of Smirnoff Ice and then poured a sizable amount of vodka into her can. She gently swirled it around to mix the two alcohols together, and took a slow sip. "Much better," she commented, passing the vodka back to Scourge.
Scourge then reached into his pants to pull out a lighter and a pipe, when Selena groaned. "Please don't smoke that stuff," she asked. "It gives me a headache." She took a small sip of her drink.
Scourge's expression went from confusion to understanding and disappointment in a second. He grinned at her. "No problem."
The four of them sat in relative silence as they all drank their drinks. Scourge (reluctantly) pocketed the marijuana paraphernalia and leaned back on the couch next to Alysha.
"So," said Alysha. "Are you gonna tell us your big idea now?" she asked flirtatiously, rubbing her hand on Scourge's thigh, just above the knee.
"Ah, yes," he said eagerly. "A buddy of mine from school sent me this," he told her, taking out his phone. "Come and see," he told Fiona and Selena. Intrigued, they made their way over to him.
Scourge rotated his phone to a landscape position and opened up a video file, tapping "play" as he did so. The girls watched intently. As they watched, their eyes widened in understanding, and they started to laugh.
"Ah, so that explains your text message!" Alysha giggled. She crawled closer to Scourge to get a closer look.
"That's even better than the one I got," Selena snickered. "It's front and center!"
"Damn, that feels like it was a while ago," Fiona commented. "God, the look on her face . . ."
The video finished. Scourge looked up proudly at his girlfriend and her friends. "Well, whatcha think?"
Selena thought for a moment. "It's good," she said thoughtfully. "It's really good. But I dunno if it's enough or not."
"What do you mean?" Scourge asked her curiously.
"Well, I mean, most people already know about that. I mean, half of our friend groups saw it. We want more people to see it."
"Gotcha, gotcha," Scourge acknowledged, nodding.
Fiona spoke up. "What if we edited it?" she suggested.
"Edit it how?" asked Selena.
"I dunno, I don't edit videos," was Fiona's only reply.
Scourge started the video again, watching his screen intently. "She looks like a WAM slut," he chuckled to himself.
The three girls stared at him. "A what?" Alysha asked.
Scourge looked at his girlfriend, one eyebrow cocked. "A WAM slut? You know, WAM fetishism?"
Alysha gave her boyfriend a pained look. "Did I just find out something about you?" she asked, her voice becoming strained.
Scourge burst out laughing. "Oh, god no! No, I just know of it through the internet in general, I promise," he said.
"Well, what is it?" Selena demanded. Scourge opened his mouth to answer, but before he could Fiona gave a gasp of realization.
"Oh my god Scourge, you're right. She does look like a WAM slut!" Fiona agreed, staring at her phone. She laughed as she scrolled down the page she was looking at.
"Is someone gonna tell me what that is?" demanded Selena, crossing her arms in an irritated fashion.
Fiona held out her phone to Selena to read. Selena took it, quickly skimming the page with her eyes. Her eyes widened and she giggled madly. She passed the phone to Alysha, who also read it. She gave a loud, victorious laugh.
"Scourge, honey, I know what we need to do!" she crowed, taking a big drink from her can.
Scourge glanced over to Fiona, who gave him a stare but didn't say anything. He wrapped his right arm around her waist.
"What can I do for you, Princess?" he asked, kissing her on her forehead.
"We need to edit this, but like . . . frame it so that everyone knows she's a WAM slut! Get me?"
"I getcha," said Scourge. "I know someone who'll do it for free. Or, well, mostly free. I'll probably owe him a smoke."
"Awesome," said Selena. "That'll show her for taking Shadow from me." She gave a fist bump to the air and took a long drink of Smirnoff Ice.
"Should we upload it to a porn site?" Scourge asked. "I assume YouTube is a given."
"Pretty sure that's a crime," said Fiona, taking a sip with raised eyebrows. Scourge gave her a look.
"Aw, but she's not even naked or anything!" he insisted.
"Dude," said Fiona. "Look I hate her guts, but if it goes onto a porn site, even an obscure one just meant for WAM, you could get in big legal trouble. Besides, it doesn't feel right."
"Well, sorry Miss Rule-Follower," said Alysha sarcastically. The alcohol was starting to kick in, giving Alysha a noticeable slur in her words.
"I'm serious," said Fiona. "Look, she's a bitch, and she's messed with the wrong people. But this is all meant to be a joke. Or, I guess, just a way to get revenge. She deserves the school laughing at her and ditching her, not random fetish weirdos on the other side of the world jerking off to her. Besides," she continued, looking at Alysha as she spoke. "We all like Scourge here, and we don't want him to go to jail. Or any of us."
Alysha thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement. Selena did too, but it was much stiffer nod, as though she didn't want to agree with Fiona.
"Alright, alright," Scourge said. "I was mostly kidding. No problem though, one edited video, ready for YouTube by tomorrow morning," he declared finally, finishing the last of his vodka. "I'll tell my guy to get started."
"Thanks babe," Alysha replied, kissing him on the nose.
"You're welcome kitten," Scourge replied, a warm smile on his face.
Selena and Fiona moved to back away to their previous seats, but before they could, Alysha raised her tallboy.
"A toast to us!" she declared. "To my fuckin' amazing friends, and to my wonderful boyfriend!" she simpered. Scourge grinned at her, Selena gave an amused smile, and Fiona eventually felt herself cave, and she started smiling to. The four of them raised their drinks and met in the middle.
"To us!"
⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤ END ⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤⬤
A/N: Hey guys! Thank you so much for your patience while I get the next chapter out. I got sick with a cold a couple days ago so I was able to make a large dent in the progress of the next chapter while I was lying around at home.
Just a couple odds and ends about this chapter (info dump incoming, sorry):
In case people were initially unaware, this school setting is roughly based on the US school system, so football in this fic refers to American football, aka not the game where you kick a round ball with your feet. Don't ask me why it's called football when feet aren't really a part of the game, I don't have a damn clue.
For those unacquainted with cheerleading terms, a "flyer" is someone who, well, flies. They're on top of pyramids, get carried and tossed, and orient their body so the bases can lift and throw her. So Amy in this fic is on top of all the stunts in her team's routines (along with a few other girls).
Poms is a strictly American thing from what I've seen, but it might not even be a thing everywhere there (my high school has a poms team, at least). Poms is basically cheerleading without the stunts. It focuses more on dance (with pom-poms) as opposed to tumbling and stunts. The Poms team usually wears a uniform similar to but distinctly different than the cheerleading uniform (my school's team has "swishy" skirts as opposed to a "rigid" cheerleading skirt, and wear dance slippers instead of cheerleading sneakers.) So yeah, Alysha avoids the mean girl stereotype of being a cheerleader by the skin of her teeth, lol.
Oh, and for those that haven't done so yet, please take care when Googling WAM, as it is a very NSFW subject. And for those who have before seeing this warning, well, oof. Sorry bout that _
Bear in mind our mean girl trio (plus Scourge) is the bad guy here. I do not actually see my Blaze character as actually participating in WAM and I don't want her character in this fic to be sexualized by readers in that way (just in case that wasn't obvious).
That's it I think. Thanks again for waiting for this update. Check out my Carrd if you want to know more about me! violetfoxviolarose .carrd .co (no spaces). I love you all and I'll see you next time!