this chapter is a bit more intense than some before. Actual M material I think. Did I mention I love reviews? Let me know your thoughts!
Summer Games
The two week holiday in April presented a new challenge for Annabelle and Kelly. Camilla wanted to have repairs done throughout St. Trinian's which meant the premises had to be vacated. Neither wanted to spend the vacation time apart but they couldn't really take each other home to the family either. Belle gathered that Kelly's family would be about as tolerant as Carnaby himself. (Who'd made a proper nuisance of himself by means of increasingly emotional pleas via phone and post.)
Realizing they couldn't go home, the girls displayed typical Trinian ingenuity and decided to have a proper holiday. Pooling their winnings netted well over 2000£ - more than enough to jump to the mainland for an adventure. The tunnel to France, a train to Paris and stays in a few different Hostels (most of which kicked them out for noise) was easy enough and created hundreds of memorable moments. A favorite was the expression on the face of the American tour guide when the girls (by means of some convincing acting and lies) commandeered her group and bus. Nothing sinister, they just took them for a joyride out to Paris Disney. They even taught the naïve Americans some traditional slang, such as: 'Hello, my name is Bob. I'm a Yankee wanker.'
Kelly smiled, thumbing through the printed photos as she selected the black & white of herself and Belle at the top of Notre Dame to go in a frame. She felt a tug of pleasure, knowing she was beside Belle for the first stamp in her passport. The first of many, no doubt, but still - rather like being her first. . . Well, never mind. Kelly's cheeks colored a little. The coming months of summer term loomed over the Head Girl, a ticking clock like a terminal disease. Whenever she dared to think about the time left, 3 months, only 3 months, she felt a pressure in her chest like she might hyperventilate. So she didn't think about it.
Job offers had been pouring in steadily for weeks now. Security companies, claims adjusters, law enforcement, mafia, casinos, entertainment, politics! She literally had her choice of any career in the world - she'd even been offered a position with a fraud investigation firm in Australia. They all meant the same thing though: leaving Trinian's. Leaving Belle. Kelly sighed, running her finger over the face staring out of the frame.
"You could just tell her, you know." the bored sound of Polly's voice interrupted Kelly's musings. Her head snapped up, staring irritably at the door she'd forgotten to close. Figures the head Geek would find her as soon as she returned. Polly had been riding her for months now, trying to get Jones to admit her feelings; to herself at the very least. She was even worse than Chelsea, whose indestructibly romantic soul had practically planned an entire wedding.
"Have a good vacation, Pol?" Kelly ignored her comment, placing the new picture on the shelf over her desk. The redhead sighed, pushing her glasses up on her nose. Winning the scotch wasn't seeming as important anymore. Kelly and Belle were proving to be pathologically stubborn about their situation. Polly had actually considered wiring them up to her Pavlovian Lie Detectors (they electrocute you for lying, stronger charges for worse fibs).
Instead, she'd enlisted Chelsea's help, knowing the Totty would be an unfailing ally in this mission. The bubbly blonde had proven most effective in the art of manipulation. Monopolizing Belle's time, she was constantly distracting her attention just to get Kelly angry. Parker could be very clever about stealing Belle away and then fake complete ignorance when Jones confronted her. It bordered jealousy and therefore pushed the Head Girl ever closer to the truth. The party before spring break had almost done it. Chelsea had repeatedly lured Annabelle away for dances - each more intimate and provocative - and Kelly had almost punched the Totty. That would've been an ideal catalyst to force all the real emotions into the open. Unfortunately, Belle had realized that Kelly was getting upset and had immediately stopped letting Chelsea interfere. Damn them, they had a better relationship in denial than most couples had with full disclosure.
"Stunning. When are you going to tell her?"
"I'm sure if I knew what you were talking about I'd have an answer. But you brains tend to leave me a bit in the dark." Jones resumed unpacking her suitcase. Polly huffed and slammed the lid shut, very nearly catching Kelly's fingers. Good thing the Head Girl had the reflexes she did. Jones' eyes snapped angrily at her friend but Polly met the gaze unfazed. This wasn't a game.
"You have 3 months, Kel. Three months to grow a bloody pair or just walk away from the best thing you've ever had."
"I'm aware of when the term ends, Polly." Kelly refused to let the anger come through in her voice. She was Head Girl, she kept her head in all situations, she wouldn't let the Geek provoke a rise out of her now.
"And are you aware of the fact that you stand to lose Annabelle forever? You take off and leave her without saying what she needs to hear, she won't wait for you. Why should she?" Polly knew she was exaggerating. Hell, Belle would probably spend the rest of her days loving Kelly no matter what happened. But it wasn't fair to her. It wasn't fair for either of them and Polly was starting to feel the pain both her friends were carrying. The ecstasy of their happiness was matched only by their fear of losing it.
"That's not going to happen." Kelly stated firmly. Her reply was classic Kelly Jones: strong, determined and completely ambiguous; open to a variety of interpretations. The redhead sighed, knowing she wouldn't get better than that.
"Right, Kel. Your call." she shook her head and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Kelly faced the window, angrily gripping the windowsill. How dare she? What did Polly know about relationships? What did she know about trying to think of someone else's needs first? How could she imagine trying to plan an entire future around someone else? The pain was back in Kelly's chest and she was taking short shallow breaths, refusing to acknowledge the way her eyes were burning with held back tears.
When the door opened again Kelly assumed Polly had returned to argue more. She'd been relentless lately. The girl never could leave well enough alone.
"I told you -!" Kelly spun and stopped short, encountering a very startled Annabelle. The brunette stared at her in surprise.
"Told me what?" Belle asked in confusion.
"No. Sorry. Thought you were someone else. First day back and these girls are already doing my head in." Jones sighed, relaxing. Belle laughed, enveloping the taller girl in a hug. Kelly gratefully wrapped her arms around Fritton's waist, turning her face into her hair to deeply inhale the calming scent.
"Not too much longer." Annabelle offered in what she must've thought was consolation. She couldn't imagine that she was only echoing the terrifying deadline in Kelly's head.
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The Cheltenham bus rolled hesitantly down St. Trinian's drive. Remembering their last welcome, the paranoid driver had covered almost every inch of his vehicle in plastic and duct tape. (After all, isn't that how you protect yourself from terrorists?) The girls of the hockey team were braced for attack, most of them gripping their seats or murmuring prayers. With every passing moment that the attack didn't come, the anxiety grew more intense.
Then, suddenly, they were slowing to a stop at the front of the school. Verity stared out the window in shock. No anti-welcome committee? Something was wrong. She could already make out the figures of students and faculty congregated on the hockey pitch. Looked like the school had fancied itself up a bit. They'd cleaned up all the explosive residue that had been smearing the outside of the building, the broken windows had been replaced with blast-proof glass, the huge double doors had been reinforced for an invasion and even the tarmac had been repaved.
Thwaites was the first to step off the bus onto the shiny new blacktop. She was therefore the first to realize that it wasn't freshly paved, but newly covered with an organic lubricant of Polly and Celia's device. It was slicker than greasy ice and, thanks to Celia, completely biodegradable (like all things organic it dissolved in lemon juice). It also had a nasty way of staining everything dark purple. The First Years had been up most of the night coating the drive and then engaging in a paint war.
Thwaites' foot went completely over her head as she landed flat on her back. She was just struggling to her feet as the rest of the Cheltenham girls piled out, every single one of them falling prey to the same trap. The enemy team slid, slipped and spilled across the pavement, shrieking as they flopped around like fainting goats. Verity crawled on her hands and knees to the grass, losing her grip a few more times and gaining a purple stain on her front to match the back.
"You bloody monsters!" she roared, getting to her feet on the sure surface of the field, shaking with rage. All the Trinian's were in hysterics. It was the best stunt they'd put over Cheltenham yet. "We thought your uniforms could use a bit more color. They were looking tired." a Chav commented, snapping her gum happily at the stuck-up school's humiliation. Verity lunged at her, ready to bludgeon her with her own hockey stick but another pair of hands grabbed her.
"Save it for the field, Thwaites." Ms. Bagstock counseled, still breathless from her own pirouettes across the pavement (12 years ballet finally paid off). The rest of the team was assembling, rubbing their many accumulated bruises. They managed to strip down to their hockey kit and bandage any more pressing injuries, ignoring the snickers and jibes coming from the other team.
"You realize that little trick may affect how my girls play?" Ms. Bagstock confronted Camilla Fritton. The two had maintained an almost affectionate competition for many years. While both wanted the other to leap naked into a pit of snakes they would be very sad to lose such a comfortable adversary.
"I have to make some concessions to my girls, you know. They originally intended to detonate an IED under your bus and I think that might've been a tad more injurious." Camilla laughed at the whole situation like she did with every other prank. So long as no one died or missed curfew she couldn't care less what happened. With Cheltenham she could even be flexible on the death bit.
Annabelle watched from a distance as the two headmistresses exchanged their usual wager and then shared a peace pipe in the form of a flask. Old Baggy might be a stroppy cow but it was nice to see she wasn't always as haughty as she pretended. Satisfied that peace reigned on the bench she turned her attention back to her main concern. Kelly hadn't taken her eyes off Verity from the moment she stepped off the bus. She'd only smirked a vaguely malicious smile when the bitch face-planted.
"You have to at least pretend to play before you attack her." Belle teased quietly.
"I bet I can take her out on first strike." Kelly flashed her teeth in an evil grin. She'd been looking forward to taking another shot at Verity Thwaites ever since she found out everything Annabelle had been through at Cheltenham. The bad blood between the two schools had reached epic proportions and for the Head Girl it had become personal. She'd given the tribes permission to unleash hell today and knew they'd come prepared.
"Try to remember we're here to win, not punish." Belle advised, unconsciously wrapping her arm around Kelly's waist. She was relieved to feel the taller girl return the touch, perfectly manicured fingers caressing her side.
"At St. Trinian's we believe in doing both." Jones' finally tore her eyes away from her enemy long enough to rest affectionately on Belle, her normal smile gracing her face once again. Annabelle sighed, resting her head on Kelly's shoulder. She had thought about it carefully and decided to sit this game out - knowing her presence on the field would only intensify the hostilities. The moment she stepped on the green Verity would focus completely on her and then Kelly would really lose control.
"Finally found your own kind, have you, Fritton?"
Speak of the devil . . .
Verity's sharp voice made Belle cringe in irritation. The sound was grating on her ears, plus she could feel the way Kelly's whole body tensed. Thwaites Jr. was just a few feet away, eyeing their intimate contact.
"I'm very impressed, Verity. You've come up against us twice now and had your ass handed to you both times. Takes guts to try again." Annabelle cut off whatever insult Kelly was readying. She could see the scar above Thwaites' nose where the stitches had gone in. That cell phone had done some marvelous damage.
"Third times the charm." Verity smiled confidently.
"Sure is. This time we might finally kill you." Kelly agreed. If the words didn't rattle Thwaites' cocky expression, the look in the Head Girls' eyes certainly did. The rumble of menacing chuckles from the rest of the Trinian's team ominously followed her back to her own huddle.
The starting whistle might as well have been the opening cannon volley on a battle field. The Bursar was immediately taken out by Andrea. Matron was tripped by Cheltenham before she could even get on the green. It seemed both teams had the same plan. No rules, no adults, no interference.
The ball barely even came into play except to identify the next target. Kelly made a point of putting it near Thwaites every chance she got and the rest of the team obediently focused the brunt of their assault on the team captain. All of St. Trinian's had a bone to pick with the Minister's daughter and were happy to have their Head Girl lead the attack.
Knuckledusters appeared like magic on tiny fists, kidney punches dropping players from behind before they even saw an attacker. Cheltenham vented their grievances equally, hockey sticks and punches lashing out in every direction. The Twins had small cans of mace and pepper spray improvised into mines throughout the field and it was entirely indiscriminate which teams' players vanished in an explosion of red mist and screams.
The First Years were medics. Busily running players to and from the field, performing triage on the sidelines, administering painkillers and deadlier weapons where necessary.
"Ah-ah!" the Headmistress reprimanded Esme as she was about to hand Janie a shiv, "Blunt instruments only."
The two girls pouted but the blade was replaced with a cudgel as Janie darted back onto the field.
"Camilla! This is an atrocity!" Miss Bagstock was on her feet, both fists clenched in her hair as the war waged in all directions. Verity chose that moment to race by, attempting to strangle Taylor with her own stripped off jersey.
"Yes, I'm quite sure there're some rules governing modesty on the pitch." the headmistress casually agreed, lighting a fresh smoke.
Annabelle chewed her lip, watching worriedly as Kelly twisted and dodged around the field. She expertly evaded countless attacks, her hockey stick an impromptu baton for warding off blows and leveling opponents. She'd always been one of the best in their martial arts classes. If anyone ever spoke about Fight Club, it would be readily acknowledged that Kelly was almost impossible to take down.
"Behind you!" Belle screamed just as a Cheltenham was lunging for the Head Girl. Jones artfully slid to one side, letting the girl dive straight to the ground and roll. Kelly's dark eyes found Belle across the pitch, smiling and flashing a wink.
Noting activity near the scoreboard Belle realized the Geeks were actually tallying points on the match, despite the fact that both goals had been sucked into the carnage and destroyed. It wasn't hard to figure out the scoring system. Any opponent knocked out of play: 2 points. Any member coming back in for the competing team: -1 point. The match currently stood 5 to 3, St. Trinian's.
It was hard to know who set off the smoke grenade but the absence of Tania and Tara pointed to some likely suggestions. The erupting cloud enveloped the field, obscuring all vision for the worried spectators. The sounds of battle cries, curses and yelps of pain still radiated from the morass, the occasional swish of a stick making the heavy smog ripple.
Belle leapt from the bench just before Andrea crashed into it, locked in a choking match with one of Verity's cronies. Both girls were turning purple - remarkable considering the amount of makeup Andrea wore. She ducked as Celia came flying overhead. The trustafarian rolled a few times, then sprang to her feet and raced back into the fray with her slapjack (made of completely recycled materials).
"This is ridiculous." Belle groaned and made eye contact with Polly down the line. The redhead raised a questioning eyebrow, barely perceptible. Annabelle nodded firmly. This had to stop. The Geek tapped a command into her Blackberry, activating the backup plan she and Annabelle had orchestrated several nights before. Sprinklers erupted from the ground, high pressure water spraying in every direction, knocking players down and transforming the turf to a mud slick. The pitch sprinklers were usually refreshing fun to frolic in on warm days but Polly had seen fit to intensify the pressure to the level of a riot hose. The smoke cloud broke down and was scattered. Combatants all over the field broke apart, shrieking, choking on the spray and crawling away from the barrage.
The two headmistresses both dove for cover behind the bench, Fritton laughing as she knelt on her hands and knees, watching the spontaneous war get rained out. Once the fights were all definitely broken up and the majority of players had vacated the field (barring those too injured to move) Polly tapped another command. The sprinklers withdrew harmlessly into the ground, leaving a massive pit of mud in their wake. Belle wished her paranoia hadn't proven correct. She sighed in relief. It was over and hadn't been as bad as she expected. Trinian's had humiliated Cheltenham; defeated them as well if the 9 to 5 score held any weight. Hopefully all the girls had gotten the violence out of their system.
She spotted Kelly making her way to the bench - her almost transparent shirt clinging to her skin, black hair soaked and flat against her head, a few strands stuck to her face. Yet her makeup was still in tact. What the hell brand did she use anyway? She looked like a beach bum's wet dream. Belle could already imagine the feel of the wet hair between her fingers. The gooseflesh that would rise as she peeled soaked cloth away from skin. What would she taste like right now? A bit like the time they'd slipped away to the showers?
She was going to walk over and find out (spectators be damned) except she realized her knees wouldn't move. Her legs were actually trembling. Oh c'mon. Seriously? Annabelle rolled her eyes at herself. Had she really gotten that turned on just watching Kelly engage in juvenile warfare? The answer - as Kelly began towel drying her hair and blew a kiss her direction - was absolutely, unequivocally, yes.
"Are all the games like this?" the curious voice beside her made Belle's heart freeze. Oh bugger. She turned very slowly, praying she wasn't correct about the owner of the voice. Oh bugg-bugg-bugg-bugg-bugger! She hadn't planned for this. All bets were off.
"Margaret," Belle acknowledged her former schoolmate, "What're you doing here?"
"School spirit for the team and all that rot," Margaret smiled and then winked, "Besides, I'd heard you changed your look and wanted to see for myself."
"The games are usually a bit more orderly. The girls just had some complaints to air." Belle endeavored to ignore the comment and the look the Cheltenham girl was giving her. She hadn't expected Maggie to show up. This was not good. Could she get out of this quickly enough? Where was Verity? Where was Kelly?
"I love what you've done with your hair. And this vest!" Margaret fingered Belle's curls, then traced the buttons of her vest, gripping the bottom as though she intended to rip it off.
"Margaret -" Belle started in a warning tone. Maggie licked her lips, eyes broadcasting what she must've thought was a smoldering look but really just seemed caught between lust and constipation. She actually makes Chloe look good.
"Belle, care to do the introductions?" Kelly's calm voice broke into the awkward scene.
Annabelle looked to her helplessly, unable to explain why another girl was groping her clothing or how to make her stop. The Head Girl perceived her dilemma, a faint arch of one eyebrow indicating she understood everything. Kelly was here to rescue her. Belle let out a soft breath of relief. Jones' face was a friendly, innocent smile. Only those who knew her would recognize the flashing anger in the black of her eyes. She'd just found the one person on earth she wanted to hurt worse than Verity Thwaites. Margaret had no clue, just smiled happily up at the stranger. She struck out one hand innocently without releasing Belle.
"Hi! I'm Maggie. Annabelle and I are," she paused to glance at Fritton, giving the next word special meaning, "Friends."
"Really? That's lovely! I'm Kelly. Annabelle and I are," she deliberately echoed the other girl's pause, "Shagging. So what say you take your hands off her before I make your face even more a pity?"
Belle squeaked slightly, shocked by Kelly's candor. Maggie looked back and forth between them for a moment, then ran her eyes carefully over her competition. She paused to take in Kelly's shirt (collar and sleeves deliberately torn off) her serpentine tattoo and her deep red lipstick curved into a menacing smile.
"You and Annabelle?" Margaret scoffed, "I think you might be just a little too common for her."
Kelly's brow shot up in surprise. She didn't even have time to blink. Belle grabbed the hockey stick from her hand and slammed it full force into the side of Margaret's knee. The girl dropped to the ground, screaming as she clutched her shattered joint. Kelly laughed in surprise, she'd forgotten what a temper (and what a slap shot!) Belle could have when provoked. She thought her chest might actually explode from the swell of pride. But Maggie's screams had attracted more attention - Verity was racing towards them, pure deadly rage in motion.
Kelly grinned, pushing Belle aside and meeting the enemy captain head on, flipping her easily over her back and into the refreshments table. The two grappled with each other, wet clothing slipping and tearing as they both wrestled for an upper hand. The rest of the teams tried to break them apart but ended up all holding each other at bay, forming a circular audience around the enemies. Screams of both girls names went up from all sides, cheering on their champions. This wasn't a school pride issue anymore, it was something far more personal.
"We have to do something, Fritton!" Ms. Bagstock was trying to break through the ring of girls, unable to drag any of them away.
"Quite right. Let's double the wager. No chance your bint walks away from this." Camilla laughed, waving another 50£ note.
"What?" Bagstock turned in shock, "Verity is going to kill that helpless girl of yours!"
"Fine, make it a hundred." the headmistress pulled out another note. Bagstock hesitated, some part of her brain obviously still thinking that she should be trying to do the responsible thing. But this was a hundred quid. And it was Verity Thwaites.
"You're on," the Cheltenham headmistress shook on the wager and then turned back to the rolling fight, "Come on, Verity!"
Annabelle yelled with the rest, holding her ground against the surge of bodies that was a rock beat away from being a mosh pit. She screamed her throat hoarse as Kelly came up on top, pulling Thwaites into a full-nelson lock. Both girls were worse for wear, clothing torn, bruises and scratches forming over cheeks and eyes.
"Right, we're settling this for good," Kelly growled, "How about you just tell everyone why you've been torturing Belle for so long?"
"Go to hell!" Verity snarled back. Trinian's Head Girl smiled.
"Soon enough. But first, how about you answer the bloody question?"
"Because she's a whiny slag!" Verity shouted. Kelly's smile vanished and she laid a hard punch into the girl's left kidney before flinging her completely to the ground.
"That's one wrong. You only get three." Jones stood over her. Verity got to her feet, wiping the hair from her face. She threw a punch at Kelly's face, only to have it deflected. The same happened to another, and a third; her brute anger no match for Kelly's trained reflexes.
After the fourth blocked blow Kelly followed in close with a triple combo, staggering the Cheltenham snob backwards.
"Is she trying to get killed?" Margaret had struggled thru the pack to stand beside Belle. Fritton noted that someone had bandaged her grossly swollen knee.
"Just too proud still." Belle shook her head, feeling almost sympathetic for her former nemesis and her futile attacks. Not bad enough to interfere of course. Six years was a lot of torture to forget.
"Why pick on our Annabelle?" Jones repeated her demand, spinning away from a lunge and bringing her knee up into Verity's diaphragm. The girl dropped to one knee, gasping for breath.
"I was jealous. Ok?" Verity choked, clutching her wounded ribcage. Everyone roared at Kelly's victory. Jones flashed Belle a triumphant look.
"That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Kelly smirked, "Jealous of what?"
"She stole someone I loved." Verity spat, eyes glowering fiercely at Belle as she climbed back to her feet. Fritton glanced sidelong at Margaret. Was she holding her breath?
"That's two." Kelly shook her head and moved to strike again but Thwaites quickly put more distance between herself and the Head Girl. She wouldn't be able to take too many more hits.
"Fine! Fine, she didn't steal her," she admitted weakly, "But she might as well have. I couldn't get the time of day with Fritton around."
The crowd went suddenly still, shocked by the sincerity of the confession. Something real was happening here, something more than a proud cow getting hers. The door had just been blown off the closet. Time to drag her the rest of the way out.
"Right. Then it's time we wrap this up. Who was it?"
Verity didn't answer. She stood completely still, glaring at Kelly but her mouth set into a firm, stubborn line. Kelly came closer, both fists clenched and ready. She wasn't going to get this far and not finish the story. They were going to hear, every last one of them was going to hear. Belle had suffered torture at their hands because their leader had been lying and they were going to know every last detail.
"Who did you love?" Kelly reiterated the question, so close to Thwaites that she could feel the angry heat of her breath. No answer. Jones grabbed her collar and lifted her completely, slamming her down onto the refreshment table (the metal legs were starting to groan at this abuse).
"Last chance." Kelly muttered, holding her enemy by the throat and drawing her fist back.
"Stop it! It was me! Leave her alone!" Margaret grabbed Kelly, shoving her away to release Verity.
"What makes you so sure?" Jones stayed a few feet back, watching Maggie check the blonde's injuries and breathing. The gentle stroke of her fingers down Verity's cheek was telling a whole story in itself.
"I knew. Ok? Everyone knew!" Margaret yelled angrily, then softened her tone, "I just didn't know how much."
The tenderness of the tone spread an awkward moment over the whole audience. Girls on all sides began looking at their watches or injuries and murmuring excuses as they wandered (staggered) away. Gradually only a knot of involved parties remained behind. They watched as Margaret spoke quietly with Verity, then helped her up. Thwaites wrapped an arm around the object of her affection - not for an embrace but for help limping off the pitch. Belle came in close to Kelly, circling her arms around the other girl from behind and kissing her cheek, careful to avoid the bruise. Polly also joined them in watching the newly established couple take their first steps together - literally.
Once the two were well away Kelly turned in Belle's arms, returning the embrace. She smiled at the variety of emotions flashing in the hazel eyes. She loved being able to read her every thought through the colors. Pride, fear, pleasure and irritation were fighting with one another and kept getting bowled over by naked lust.
"You're a damn stubborn pillock, Kelly Jones." A glint of amusement in the green and gold reminded Kelly that the younger girl could read her just as easily. The Head Girl made no effort to disguise her own more raw desire. Something about seeing that slag's hands on Belle . . .
"Mmm," Kelly smiled, leaning in close for a kiss, "Just your type."
She caught Belle's lips. They exchanged caresses for a moment, tenderness escalating quickly into a silent argument of who wanted who more. Polly watched the clouds, waiting patiently for the two to surface. After four minutes she began to wonder if she shouldn't interrupt. Kelly could catch a cold out here in wet togs. Jones' wandering hand stroked up Belle's thigh, squeezing her ass and making her gasp. Polly definitely was going to have to interfere. She cleared her throat pointedly. Twice. Belle took the hint and broke the kiss, smiling at the frustrated noise from Kelly.
"We really should get you something for those marks." she traced a finger gently over the scratches on Kelly's pale cheek. The flush in her skin made it clear she wasn't just thinking about plasters. The three made their way off the field. The Geeks and Eco lot were already dissolving the grease off the pavement. The First Years were taking their last opportunity to skate over the slick drive. They all paused to watch the Cheltenham bus clear the distant gate and roll completely away.
"Bit ironic isn't it? Getting the shite beat out of you only to find out everyone already knew the secret," Polly commented from beside Kelly, "Could've saved herself a lot of pain if she'd just 'fessed up from the beginning."
Jones was too pleased with her victory to even be annoyed with the jibe. Did Annabelle know what Polly was always getting at with these digs? Probably. Fritton was no one's fool. Least of all Kelly's. She squeezed Belle's hand and smirked at the Geek.
"Yeah, but that wouldn't have been near as much fun for me."
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Belle was pressed hard against the lockers in the changing room. She could tell the metal digging into her back was going to leave marks and couldn't care. She didn't want to move, didn't want to lose even a second of the intoxicating contact with Kelly's body. She hooked one leg around her lover's waist, groaning as she felt hips move against her heat. She nipped at the tongue dancing over her lips, hungry for deeper contact. One hand tangled in the wet black hair while the other slid up under the clinging shirt, tracing the muscles of her abdomen as she reached higher. Her questing fingers pushed up the material of Kelly's bra, luxuriating in the feel of soft flesh meeting her touch. She felt Kelly's gasp trapped between their lips.
She could track the decent of Kelly's hands, stroking down her sides, squeezing her hips, tickling up the inside of her thighs, brushing her skirt higher. The play of teeth and tongue against lips became more feverish as air grew scarce. Who would break first? Belle felt the goosebumps racing across Kelly's skin as each inch met the cool air but was immediately warmed by her touch. There was altogether too much clothing still in the picture. The graze of fingers against the fabric of her panties made Belle break the kiss to groan.
"You know what it felt like, Belle?" Kelly husked, forcing the girls eyes to meet her own, "Seeing her hands on you?"
Annabelle shook her head, biting her lip as she felt fingers stroking languidly against the soaked cloth. It took all her concentration to keep her eyes open, focused on the black orbs burning into her. All she wanted was to tilt her head back, see nothing but the colors Kelly could make dance behind her eyelids. The Head Girl relented, trailing kisses towards her ear, nipping the soft lobe and feeling Belle's shuddering breath hitch. Brunette curls tickled her cheeks. She breathed deep the smell of her skin and warmth.
"I wanted to rip your clothes off," Kelly whispered in her ear, "Take you right there in front of them all. Make you scream my name so they'd know . . ."
The torturous fingers deftly slipped past her underwear, meeting slick heat. She teased the aroused flesh, exploring familiar ground. Belle's whimper turned to a moan, knowing she would've let her do it. Knowing she would've loved every moment. Just like now.
"Know you're mine." Kelly smiled wickedly as she plunged deep into Belle, making the girl gasp at the sudden sensation. Jones' whole body was a knot of trembling desire. She'd needed this. Needed to feel Belle's body succumb to her every touch, play her like an instrument and listen to the music she produced, unconsciously echoing the sounds.
Belle's hands dug into her shoulders, scrabbling for leverage as she canted her hips to increase the depth of the languid touch. No matter what it was she needed more. More speed, more force, more of Kelly. She could feel the soft chuckle in Jones' throat, laughing at her impatience.
"Kel!" Belle groaned in exasperation. She felt the taller girl's slim frame tremble at the sound of her name, her speed instantly increasing.
"Again, Belle." Kelly murmured, her voice thick and raspy in her own ears. Annabelle smiled, hearing the need in her lover's voice. She focused her gaze for a brief moment, locking onto her eyes.
"Kelly." she whispered tenderly. She leaned in to kiss her briefly before the hand between her legs began to move more meaningfully. She let her head rest back against the lockers, every sense turned inward to the building waves of pleasure crashing closer and closer together.
She gasped Kelly's name with every breath. It was a whimper, a plea, a prayer. Her whole body ripped lose of itself. She screamed that sacred name as she arched into the lithe figure pinning her. Kelly held her tight as she spiraled out with her climax, then collapsed backwards against the metal, panting for air.
Belle was dimly aware of lips moving over her shoulders and throat, across her mouth and eyes, caressing her face and nuzzling the tender spot by her ear. She took a few deep, grateful gulps of air. Only when she could feel her actual muscles again did she rest both feet on the ground, still unsure of her legs. She sought Kelly's lips, stilling her caresses.
"You. Really. Are. Amazing." Belle punctuated each word with a teasing kiss before sealing their mouths together.
"And," she smiled when they broke apart for air, "You're severely overdressed."
On the other side of the wall to the changing rooms Taylor was crouched low, ear pressed to a glass against the plaster, grinning as she realized round two was already beginning. Those two had some serious impulse control issues. An insistent tapping at her shoulder drew the Chav's attention away from the show.
"Well?" Andrea demanded, still holding an icepack to her bruised neck.
"Yeh, yeh. Belle was first. That's 20£ to you." Taylor scowled, handing over the note.
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"You know, Belle, I don't mind you coming to fetch me for a snog but you might've waited another 10 minutes! I happen to enjoy our handwriting class." Kelly protested playfully as Annabelle led her by the wrist through the corridors.
"Spade's a spade, Kel. It's Forgery class. And I didn't bring you out here for a snog!" she argued over her shoulder, dragging the Head Girl towards a specific goal.
"Pity." Kelly sighed, but her smirk still confident. Her curiosity increased as she realized they were heading deep into the east wing, normally vacant this time of day. They slowed up when they got to the languages corridor. Belle signaled for them to be quiet and stealthily crept the last few feet towards one of the classrooms. The door was closed. Fritton glanced in the window briefly before pulling back out of view. She nodded Kelly to have a look, her smug smile triumphant. Kelly arched a tired eyebrow - there were far more enjoyable games they could be playing right now - but willingly switched places with the younger girl. She leaned just close enough to the side of the window to peer in with one eye.
She didn't see much at first. Empty classroom. No big shock. St. Trinian's girls weren't huge on languages. Particularly not in the morning when they were all too hungover to put a sentence together in English, let alone in French or Spanish. Then movement at the far end of the room caught her eye. Two people were by the teacher's desk. Actually, one was on the teacher's desk. Kelly furrowed her brow, concentrating to make sense of exactly what she was seeing.
Miss Maupassant was sitting on her desk, engaging in a rather intimate embrace with another party. From this distance it was obviously female - only because they both had their shirts off. No big surprise. The languages teacher had already seduced the entire male faculty. She'd have to move on to new frontiers to stay entertained. But who was standing between her legs on the receiving end of that kiss?
Kelly focused closer, squinting to make sense of the tangled brown hair and disheveled business suit. Dickinson? Holy hand grenades! The English teacher had one hand in Maupassant's hair and the other was conspicuously absent between their bodies.
"Bollocks!" Kelly breathed in surprise, pulling away from the window.
"Told you." Annabelle smirked, leaning past her to watch the amateur peep show.
"How long they been at it?" Kelly wondered, joining Belle in looking thru the glass. The two teachers were far to involved in each other to notice any audience. A bra was flung across the room.
"No idea. But I found them like this yesterday. Bursar's been depressed for months." Belle shrugged. Kelly chuckled, sad for the little man with big dreams.
"Does Chelsea know?" Jones chewed her lip, watching as the usually milquetoast English teacher pressed her lover flat against the desk.
"Chels? Not as far as I know," Annabelle looked at her curiously, "Why?"
Kelly stared at Belle in surprise. Fritton was usually so on top of life at St. Trinian's, it always came as a surprise when she didn't know some hint of gossip.
"Didn't you know? She's well into Dickinson. Or did you think she was reading Little Women for fashion tips?"
Belle's mouth worked open and closed a few times before blowing out a surprised breath. It did make sense. After all, it had been Chelsea who'd offered to seduce the girls of Cheltenham. And Belle had never seen the Totty so caught off guard as when the elder English teacher had told her flat out that she was smart. That smart could be cool and sexy. It was like a new light bulb went off in that dim blonde head.
"Is everyone gay these days?" Belle finally wondered, hearing a very familiar moan from beyond the closed door.
"Only the better people," Kelly grinned, "How'd you find them out?"
"I was here yesterday looking for a good place to shag." Belle admitted with a blush. Kelly laughed, idly brushing the hair away from Annabelle's face.
"Hope you found it." she purred, taking Belle's hand and tugging her further down the hall.