Moving out to the sticks wasn't exactly what Persephone Black wanted. If she had it her way, she'd still be living in Chicago. Of course, her father had other plans.
Persephone sat in AP Physics 2, playing with the peeling bat and skull stickers on her binder, almost glad to be at school. It was a place that felt oddly cathartic, as crazy as that sounded. Though she didn't know anyone and sat in an unfamiliar place, she could breathe without being surrounded by boxes and boxes of crap. She instead distracted herself with schoolwork, not once needing to cross paths with 'drill sergeant' Dad, Ronald. Ever-invasive thoughts of him kept her from resting too easily, though. At least her new school enveloped her in peace (and the muddy, scummy smell of swamp).
Dulvey High School — the place where all the hick kids seemed to go. Not nearly as prestigious (pretentious) as Northside College Prep, but Dulvey was the best she could get on two week's notice, ala the much-impulsive Ronald. Her high school career would be over soon anyway, thank god. Winter hadn't quite arrived by the time she'd moved and classes were probably easier here, so she wouldn't be losing much progress. Lucky her — Ronald's castigation knew no bounds when it came to slipping grades.
The teacher, Mrs. Tompkin, got her attention by announcing a project where students would be working in pairs. Her shoulders dropped and she rolled her eyes. Pairs. Ugh, she did not need to make nice with her classmates, not when she only had a few months around these no-name hicks. She tuned out Mrs. Tompkin calling partners by last names until she heard her own.
"Miss Black and Mister Baker."
Baker… What was his name again? Lewis? Laurence? Something like that. She glanced around the room but no one in particular stood out to her — not that she really knew what to look for.
"All right," said Mrs. Tompkin curtly, "everyone find your partner. I'll be handin' out guidelines, so start plannin'."
The sound of scraping chairs followed. Students stood to pair up and Persephone's eyes darted every which way. Who in the hell was Leon Baker again? Or whatever his name was. While everyone else got together, she noticed one guy sitting by himself. He had his book open, seemingly waiting for his partner to find him while putting as little effort into reciprocation as possible. She approached with her book in hand.
"Baker?"
"Yep," he replied shortly, not looking at her.
She observed him as she took her seat on the opposite side of the desk. The boy had probably the worst hairline she'd ever seen on a high schooler and damn did he have a thin face.
Mrs. Tompkin came by their table, dropped two project guidelines before them, and went on her business. Persephone took half-hearted notes as she read, the chattering all around making his silence more noticeable.
"So, uh," she started, tapping her eraser against her book. "Name's Persephone."
"Lucas," he replied absently, scrawling in his notebook.
"That's what it was," she said, smacking the table. "I thought it was Lewis or Leon or something — but don't worry, I'll remember."
Lucas said nothing. She fixed her glasses and examined his notebook. He didn't write anything about their assignment. Instead, he sketched something electronic-looking, naming and annotating certain aspects of it. Is this really what she had to work with? Someone who didn't care about the project? Great, she'd be pulling most of the weight. College here was going to be horrible, wasn't it? If she had to put up with this kind of shit — this Chicago-ass lack-of-giving-a-shit shit — it sure would be. She wasn't looking forward to another decade of schooling, not if she'd have to put up with people.
"What?" Lucas demanded.
Oops, she'd been staring. She cleared her throat, eyes wandering away. "Nothing."
"Expectin' me t' take this project seriously 'r are ya just gawkin'?"
She shrugged. "Honestly, I think we could get by half-assing this whole thing."
Not a smile or a smirk or any kind of reaction to her joke outside of a deadpan glare. Once more, her eyes rested on her book.
The project was due to be done in about a month, just before winter break. Mrs. Tompkin advised the pairs to get together and work as often as possible in order to get the project done in time. Fuck, she would have to get all friendly, lest she face Ronald's wrath — the cold shoulder, grounding, more chores, the works. God forbid she doesn't get an A.
After a silent note-taking session between her and her partner (aka, she took notes while Lucas doodled), class ended and students cleared out. She followed behind Lucas in the hall for a moment before reaching out and putting her hand on his shoulder.
"Yo, partner," she said, forcing an amiable smile.
He turned and looked at her, scowling.
"See you tomorrow. We can really get started then."
He grunted, then turned and left.
What a practiced sneer. She shrugged his attitude off and continued down the hall, looking at her schedule. Physics was her last class that Tuesday so she made her way to the front doors to walk back home, passing through other seniors leaving for their half-day.
Persephone needed to consult her phone's map several times to make sure she didn't walk in the wrong direction. The country roads all looked the same. At least the houses tended to be different, unlike Chicago with its same three styles of home — apartment, townhouse, and ubiquitous cookie-cutter single homes. The differing houses here didn't help her complete lack of motivation to memorize the area.
Along the roads to her neighborhood, foliage abound. Louisiana's wild and tangled wetlands reeked, especially given how far south as she was. Definitely a swamp, and a warm one at that. This late in autumn, she would've expected at least a chill, but she sweat like mad and the muggy air stuck her clothes to her. At least she'd have respite in her air conditioning.
As she approached her new house — up its trimmed lawn, clean concrete walkway, and all the other bullshit that made houses home to boring people — she couldn't help but observe it with disdain. While she'd never felt connected to her old home or anyone living near it, any sense of familiarity had vanished, never to be gotten back. It took her a moment to get her key into the lock properly; upside down at first. She eventually succeeded and stepped inside. Her mom had passed out on the sectional in the living room. Persephone shook her head and walked past to the kitchen, talking to herself (as if her mother would care if she heard anyway).
"Your doctor keeps telling you not to mix booze and happy pills but you just don't listen."
She started on dinner for the evening, equanimity allowing her to think back on the events of her day; her project, the schoolwork, and homework due the following days. Too much shit to do, probably not enough time. When she peered to the clock, she felt thankful that Ronald wouldn't be home for another several hours. She grimaced just thinking about him.
"This new job'll really put me on the map," is what he'd said about a week before they'd moved.
She figured he cared more about being 'put on the map' than his own family. It wasn't the first time she'd watched him switch jobs, and thusly houses. First had been Cincinnati, then Yorkville, Geneva, Pontiac, before they'd settled on Chicago for a long while — she guessed that wasn't good enough anymore. His wife and only daughter be damned, suck it up and move to a different state. She slammed a pot onto the stove. What she wouldn't give to let him know how she really felt.
At his locker the next day, Lucas swapped out his textbooks, preparing for Physics after lunch. He didn't know if he should be looking forward to it or not. Somehow, by a stroke of luck, he'd been partnered off with a girl, and one who wasn't a complete idiot or a vapid priss or ugly. Glasses weren't typically his thing, but she made them work really damn well. Once she learned who he was, though, she wouldn't want anything to do with him. Like everyone else. They'd all grown up around him since elementary school and knew to stay away. She would learn, sooner or later.
Something leaned against the lockers beside him but he ignored it. Probably Oliver or Janine or another jackass — at least he thought, until he heard Persephone's voice.
"Hey."
"You don' have t' come visit me at my locker," he said shortly, shoulders tensing.
"No, but I saw you and I don't know anybody else."
Lucas felt her prying and slammed the door, turning to look at her under his hood. She wore a red plaid dog collar with a skull pendant, and all black otherwise — do people from the city always wear weird shit?
He spat, "Y'all stupid? Wanna be seen with Crazy Lucas — ya gotta be."
"Crazy? You don't seem crazy. Maybe a little eccentric, but I don't mind."
"Trust me, you have no idea."
He turned and left her. Of course, escape wasn't that easy. Persephone's footfalls were right behind him until she caught up to his side.
She said, "Well, maybe gimme a chance to find out for myself."
"Ya wanna know what you'll be in fer? Fine. Just listen t' everyone as we walk by n' see whatcha think."
Persephone kept close to him as the discourse grew; "who's that with Crazy Baker?", "she'll prob'ly wind up dead by the end a' the week", "ew, look who's with Crazy Lucas", "dumb bitch must have a death wish". His schoolmates talked shit during their whole walk to the cafeteria, particularly from one punchably loud mouth.
"'Course he'd have ta go fer the new girl! Crazy Lucas doesn't stand a chance with anyone else!"
"That's Oliver," Lucas muttered, facing forward and clenching his bagged lunch. "Maybe y'all should hang out with him instead."
"You mean Mr. Loud-and-Obnoxious? He doesn't really seem my type."
She'd be one of the few girls at school who thought that. Maybe he'd actually lucked out getting her as a partner? Nah, too optimistic.
He went through the cafeteria and sat at his table in the corner, alone. Or he would be, if Persephone hadn't insisted on taking a seat beside him. Why the hell she wanted to follow him, he didn't know. A temptation to tell her to fuck off rose in his chest, but he released these words in the form of a deep sigh instead. People grabbed chairs from his table to move them to other tables instead, despite the rest of the cafeteria being packed.
"Less than five minutes," he said as he opened his lunch bag. "Y'all think ya can handle this fer the rest a' the school year?"
"Whatever." Persephone shrugged. "I grew up in Chicago, dude, d'you really think these hicks'll spook me?"
Was life really gonna tease him? Cute, smart, and funny? This couldn't end well.
Persephone unloaded her lunch — green apple, banana, carrot with the leaves still on top, peanut butter and jelly sandwich folded in parchment paper, granola bar, and a small salad in a glass container. Goddamn. What was she, a hippie or something? She squinted at his food.
"Chicken sandwich and chips? No wonder you're so skinny."
"Says the one eatin' like a rabbit."
She laughed softly. "And yet I still can't get these extra fifteen pounds off. Here—" She placed her granola bar near his food. "—take it. I don't really like granola bars anyway."
"Y'all don' gotta feed me, I'm not a charity case." He pushed it back to her.
She slid it across the table to him. "Oh, just take it. Stubborn."
"Hypocrite."
He didn't push the bar back this time, though ignored it for a little while before picking it up and unwrapping it. Why the hell not? He was always hungry after lunch. When he side-eyed her, he noticed her smiling between bites of her sandwich. Part of him wanted to wipe that stupid grin off her face, yet another part… Well, he tried to ignore that part of him that thought she looked cute.
Hands slammed down on the other side of the table, rattling the contents atop it. Lucas rolled his eyes, not needing to look to know who did it, but he glanced up anyway to glare in his stupid fuckin' face. Oliver leaned across the table, his palms flat atop it as he smirked at Lucas. One of Oliver's friends slouched behind him, fiddling on his phone.
"What, Baker?" Oliver started. "Blackmailin' the new girl ta get her ta sit with ya? That's low, even fer you, Crazy."
He continued glowering at him.
Oliver's eyes shot to Persephone. "Look, I know you're new, but that's no reason ta be hangin' out wit' Crazy Lucas. You're way too cute fer that." He winked.
"Bet that line gets all the girls," said Persephone, deadpan.
"Ooh, got yourself a feisty one, eh?" Oliver snickered. "Lucky. Name's Oliver, babe. Remember it when ya get tired a' Crazy here." Oliver glanced around their table and said, laughing, "She gotchu eatin' like a girl?"
Oliver reached toward the unwrapped granola bar and Persephone's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist tight, thumb pushing into his palm to bend his hand back.
"So eating healthy is girly now? Please."
Oliver ripped his hand away from her then rubbed his wrist.
"Look," Persephone said, "I'm new here and just trying to get by. Don't ruin my school year by being an ass-clown. Now, if you don't mind letting us eat in peace."
Oliver stood up straight, chest puffed out. "Ya better learn your place here, city girl."
With that, he and his friend walked away. Lucas, his brain finally working from Persephone's unexpected reaction, had to wonder if all city girls were fuckin' crazy.
"Yer out yer damn mind," he said, looking at her from under his hood.
"Well, judging by all the rumors, that means we'd make a good team, don't it? Besides, I'm not afraid of that jackass. Have you seen people from Chicago? It's an absolute madhouse."