The night of the party arrived, with Annabelle consumed with English lust. She wanted Kelly so badly and was almost certain that it was not purely physical. She was wearing her skimpiest outfit that was, she prayed, still sophisticated. She wore her highest heels and almost fell as she left the dormitory. Everyone else was already downstairs but Annabelle wanted to be fashionably late and to catch Kelly drunk from the start. She was surprised to see Kelly still in full control of her limbs as she entered the party. Whenever she saw Kelly she always mentally undressed her. Kelly saw her staring and tottered over to greet her friend.
'Annabelle!' she slurred. 'How lurrrrvely of yoooou to join usssss.' She gave Annabelle a quick smirk before lurching off to breathe down someone else's neck. Annabelle's face had lit up when Kelly approached but fell completely when she left. Tears pricked her eyes and she stumbled towards the bar, hoping it just looked like she was drunk.
She saw Polly staring sympathetically at her and Annabelle's eyes widened as Polly approached. She spun round hoping to see an easy way out but she was trapped by the drunken bodies writhing on the dance floor. She tried to push her way passed them but tripped over an unconscious body on the floor and lay sprawled. Polly offered her hand and Annabelle slowly sat up. She smiled gratefully at her before attempting to crawl away. Polly stopped her by grabbing her hair and tugging. Annabelle realised that Polly was probably a little drunk as well. She sat down beside Annabelle and they sat in silence for a while both lost in thought. Polly was the first to break the silence.
'Annabelle...' she started.
'You guessed.' Annabelle noted drily.
'You didn't exactly hide it very well.' Polly protested.
'Are you going to tell her?' Annabelle asked, desperation creeping into her voice. The geek shook her head.
'No,' she answered. 'I won't do that.' She glanced sideways at Annabelle's expression but it was unreadable. 'Do you know how she feels?'
'Yeah. She doesn't love me back.' Despite herself she gave a low chuckle at Polly's look of unmasked shock.
'You love her?' Polly whispered. Annabelle nodded unsure whether she was relieved to have shared her feelings or not.
'She doesn't feel anything for me.' Annabelle choked back tears.
'Unrequited love,' Polly murmured poetically. The atmosphere had turned uncomfortable. She raised her eyebrows before struggling to her feet. Annabelle looked up at her, disappointed, before getting up as well. They linked arms and strode towards the bar. They poured themselves strong concoctions of vodka and tequila and plonked themselves back down in the middle of the dance floor.
The crowd was beginning to disperse, those with boys going up to the classrooms, those who had too much to drink to vomit out of a window and those who still had some party left in them, out into the hall. Polly and Annabelle were one of a choice few who were still relatively sober and still dancing or talking comprehensibly.
'Kelly could like you.' Annabelle shrugged. 'She's never shown any emotion in that way so who knows who she likes,' Polly explained.
'She's never had anyone in her room, and she never gets love letters.' Polly frowned.
'How would you know?' she asked suspiciously. Annabelle's face reddened.
'I don't,' she replied eventually, avoiding Polly's eyes and twisting her fingers. Polly's eyes narrowed. Part of being a geek at St Trinians was to know when someone was lying and Polly was definitely a St Trinians geek.
'You have been spying on her,' she said after a long pause in which Annabelle got more and more uncomfortable and flushed.
Annabelle nodded, her eyes closed in dismay and embarrassment. Polly shook her head sadly.
'You shouldn't have done that.' She glanced over her shoulder nervously. 'Kelly's bound to find out sooner or later. She knows everyone's secrets.'
'But she's leaving today. How's she going to find out?' Annabelle protested.
'She might already know. She's very sly and if she does your punishment will be cruel and unexpected.' Annabelle's blush faded and she turned pale.
She rose and walked towards the door, swaying violently. She came face to face with a very inebriated Kelly, who was not in total control of her actions. Kelly was drunker than most but had an incredibly high alcohol tolerance. She loved to drink but hated looking weak so had practiced consuming large amounts of alcohol when she first started school so that she would never have to throw up in front of her peers. She always retained some amount of influence over her actions but today had less than usual. She still kept the qualities that made her a good head girl. She was still shrewd and understood what was going on within her classmates. Annabelle was a good actress and had not allowed her feelings to show when she was sober but now she could not stop a besotted look appearing on her face in its full glory. Kelly knew what had happened but resolved to tackle it later when she could handle it more capably. She still had three full days left as head girl of St Trinians before she left so had plenty of time.
She turned away from Annabelle frostily and lurched towards Chelsea who had abandoned her multiple boyfriends to get some more alcohol to help her come to terms with the fact that none of them were particularly good looking. She was annoyed that they had not invited any cute boys along and was looking for someone to complain to. Kelly looked available so she tumbled towards her head girl and collided head on with her. They both fell stunned. Annabelle let out a piercing scream and rushed to her love's assistance. She saw Kelly's eyes flutter open but she didn't want to miss her chance.
'No heartbeat,' she pronounced and proceeded to give Kelly mouth to mouth. When Kelly came properly to her senses she appalled to find Annabelle kissing her, stabbing her tongue roughly down Kelly's throat and fondling and squeezing her breasts. She pushed Annabelle off her and slapped her squarely on the cheek before stalking towards the bar to knock back another shot of tequila mixed with their own homemade vodka. She inwardly cursed the twins for making the stuff so addictive yet strong and threw the glass at the wall, the shattered splinters raining around the empty room. Inquisitive eyes appeared at the doorway staring at her. She looked around wildly before her eyes rested on Annabelle. She strode towards her menacingly, gracefully swigging vodka out of a bottle. She was drunker than ever before and although she did not feel nauseous she felt lethal. Her practice had become her curse as she did not have to stop to throw up as she advanced on the petrified girl.
She stopped in front of Annabelle, now alone in the hall as the others had retreated back; sobering up quickly and necessarily at Kelly's maniacal glint in her eye. They watched the scene with a morbid fascination, scared for Annabelle but loyally trusting Kelly. Kelly looked at Annabelle unsettling her before she spat into Annabelle's face. Her tongue came out automatically licking around her mouth to lick any that she could get, her obsession for Kelly magnified by her drunken state. Girls around the hall were waking up from their drunken stupor, sensing the drama about to unfold. Kelly watched Annabelle's tongue, disgusted. She raised her hand to strike again, her nails repeatedly scratching Annabelle's cheek as her hand retreated before coming in for another slap. Annabelle didn't flinch but relished every touch; Kelly was normally so conservative and didn't pass out hugs.
Kelly saw that Annabelle's eyes were fixed on Kelly's heaving breast, and she was blinded by her fury, her rage penetrating every vein and pore in her body. As her blows became fiercer the spectators wondered if they should intervene. They respected their head girl but knew that she crazily drunk and might regret it in the morning. However, nobody liked to get in their esteemed leader's way when she was on the warpath. Kelly had a temper but she kept it hidden deep within her and it didn't expose itself often. Kelly had a lot of built up fury and was letting it all out on Annabelle. Her customary placid expression had vanished and there was a wounded yet victorious smirk on her face which enraged Kelly even more. Kelly's hand started to sting after numerous whacks and Annabelle's face was swollen and bleeding.
Kelly was wearing a tight shirt and a short pencil skirt. The skirt was held up by a thin, black, leather belt. She unravelled it, the crowd watching with bated breath. Kelly laid a motherly hand on Annabelle's shoulder before spinning her roughly round and spanking her butt with the belt. She was physically and mentally strong and had the willpower to carry on for hours. However, her vision was clouding and her aim was getting more and more off the mark, striking Annabelle's back, legs and wrists. Eventually the belt flew from her grasp and she howled in frustration. Somehow she had managed to maintain her elegance and poise throughout her madness and had never faltered. Her eyes flashed and she ripped off Annabelle's light pink blouse the buttons flying in all directions. Annabelle was pale but not in an alluring way like Kelly was but in a sallow, pallid, watery way. She was not well endowed in the chest area and a few cruel sniggers passed through the crowd. Kelly loved the reaction and yanked at Annabelle's skirt next, tearing through the black fabric.
Annabelle was wearing old underwear and was suddenly incensed that Kelly had torn off her clothes to ridicule her, not to delight in her body. She cursed herself for wearing a sports bra and pale pink childish knickers instead of provocative, racy lingerie. She spun round to finally strike Kelly back when she saw Kelly's sneering face her resolve wavered. In the second that Annabelle faltered Kelly took control once again and grabbed a pot of paint from the window ledge. She prised the lid open and flung the contents at her victim's fleeing body. Annabelle gasped her back covered in a green sickly mess. Kelly mocked her crowing, 'You think that you could get me into bed. Looking like that. Say away from me and stop leering at me.'
Annabelle nodded slowly, submitting to her victor. She shuffled towards the bathroom trembling but stopping when she heard Polly's voice from the crowd.
'Kelly!' she shouted. 'Annabelle has seen you naked.' Kelly, who had been walking away, pivoted on the spot.
'What?' she asked venomously.
'Annabelle has been spying on you in your bedroom,' Polly replied.
'Not true,' Annabelle squeaked.
Kelly turned on her. 'You disgust me, Annabelle Fritton. You are just like your father. I'm glad I'm leaving now and I probably won't come back. You are going to have some enemies here now.' With that, she stalked off.
Annabelle stred after her in dismay before turning her teary eyes on Polly. She shook her head in disbelief. Polly shrugged noncommitally. 'Someone had to do it.' The crowd murmered its agreement before leaving the scene of the semi-onesided-catfight. Annabelle was left standing in the hall, a ghastly sight. She made no attempt to leave and clean herself up but just stood there, motionless, staring at the place that she had last seen Kelly.
She was still there, covered in paint and wearing only her ancient underwear, when the not so cute boys descended the stairs. They sniggered and left her, now even more detraught than she had been. She found that she didn't care that boys had seen her looking so disastrous. She only cared about Kelly. The girl who hated her.