Tenacity was Peggy's middle name. When she wanted something, she would strive until she got it. Be her object of desire information about another person or a bigger recycling bin for the school, she would try like hell until her goal was achieved.
But even Peggy realized that tenacity was not infallible.
Sometimes, even if it hurt, you had to accept that trying wouldn't get you far enough. That sometimes what you wanted the most, you just couldn't have and no amount of determination could change that.
So when her thoughts began straying to Li and her eyes followed the way her clothes fit, the way that they were nice and snug and showed off her pert behind, Peggy gave up. She gave up before she could even start pursuing something, because this was one of those painful sometimes where trying just wouldn't be enough. Li was straight. And not only straight, but likely homophobic to some degree. Not in outspoken or harmful ways, but certainly in hurtful ones. A roll of the eyes when Alexy made comments about attractive boys. A crinkle of the nose when Kim put her arms around Violette. Peggy was sure she was the only one who noticed.
Peggy noticed everything about Li.
From the careful way she applied her lipstick to the confident way she walked, the journalist noticed it all.
She had daydreams about sliding her fingers through Li's medium jet-black locks and fantasies about tugging Li's silky Chinese top over her head. She imagined Li's lips against her own and fancied they tasted of citrus, because that was what she always smelled like. Even if she gave up on the possibility of pursuing Li, there was nothing wrong with her private sentiments and musings over what would never be.
Peggy wasn't restricted to insouciance either. She allowed herself to care about Li in small, unimportant ways that made no difference. Like keeping her name out of the paper when the schemes she no doubt helped Amber with were exploited. Like asking her opinion on what types of vegetables should be on the vegetarian menu she pushed to enact.
She was in the girls bathroom one day, washing her hands while Li dug anxiously through her purse in front of the mirror.
"Damn it," Li groaned, "I can't find my strawberry wine."
Peggy paused and shut off the water, turning to flash Li a smile of assurance. "You really don't need all that lipstick anyway. Or any other makeup for that matter. You're beautiful just the way you are."
Li looked to Peggy, her mouth opened in a small circle of surprise. "Thank you," she breathed softly. Peggy gave a nod of acknowledgement and went on her way.