A/N: Please forgive all of my mistakes and remember that I own nothing mentioned in this story that is copyrighted. As for the guest, the person you thought it was may be showing up in Chapter Four.

Three

"Regina Porter?"

Gina had just taken another hit off her inhaler. She put it away and smiled at the administrative assistant behind the counter. "That's me." She didn't bother giving the woman her nickname. She doubted they'd talk often.

"Ah yes." Kitty Lynn, if her name plate was to be believed, gathered a few papers and handed them to her one at a time. "Okay, the top one is your locker number and combination. You need to put that somewhere safe."

"I will." Gina took the paper and stuffed it into her binder.

"This is the school handbook with the school song and dress codes and such."

"Okay."

"And this one is your schedule."

Gina was really excited to see what her classes would be. The usual reading, math, and science, of course, but she'd been hoping for a couple of electives her private school hadn't offered.

Trying not to look like a kid on Christmas morning, she took her schedule and looked over it. She had the state requirements, as expected—English, history, geometry, physical science, and geography—along with physical education/health, and American Sign Language.

"Thank you ma'am," she said, more than pleased. She had put her preference down for her electives with ASL being first, chorus being second, and journalism being last.

Her old school, a private school in Eureka, didn't offer ASL as a foreign language elective, and that had really disappointed her. It was only one of several reasons she had agreed to transfer from the academy to Lima Springs High.

Kitty Lynn gave her a long look as if she was studying every detail of her appearance. "You are so pretty, and so respectful," she said, her tone part surprised and part amusement.

Gina didn't understand why she was complimenting her looks and manners, but she felt more embarrassment than astonishment. "Thank you." She finally said and decided to take the woman's words at face value and not as a dig that she as black girl would be rude and ugly.

"My daughter, Lily, is a freshman, too, if you need someone to show you around and help you find your classes. I can't get her to do it."

"Thanks for the offer, but I had someone offer to do that very thing over the winter break."

"I am not surprised. Our students here are so welcoming to new students. Please, let me know if you have any questions."

Gina told her she would and headed out for her first class as a student at Lima Springs High, her mother's alma mater. She glanced around for the girl she'd met at the party, then walked to the vending machines by the front office. They'd made plans to meet there before the deputies came and everyone left the party. She really hoped that the girl, who was a freshman and tall and looked older than her age, and was new as well—though not quite as new as Gina—didn't forget about their plans to meet up here. But that scenario was looking likelier and likelier.

She waited for her to show up until the first bell rang, but the red headed girl was a no-show. She really couldn't blame her. Hanging with Gina could cost the girl any hopes of being popular and accepted by the students at the high school that thought Gina was a snitch. Gina was officially the most hated student at the school. Nobody would want to hang around her because she was the snitch whose mother the sheriff drove her to school with lights flashing, if the glares of hostility coming her way were any indication. Trying to suppress her disappointment, she decided to get on with her day.

As she walked the halls looking for her first-period classroom, she got the occasional curious glance, and even the outright stare—which she partially blamed her appearance, which was odd for the daughter of the black sheriff to have—but if she had to put a number to it, she'd guesstimate that more than half the looks directed her way were because of the police confiscating the keg.

Who knew that denying high school kids the ability to get drunk off of disgusting beer was such a big deal? If she didn't know better, she'd have thought she'd set fire to the football field. While the players were still on it.

Just as she started down the hall, she happened to look back through the open doorway and into the principal's office. She saw a girl take a crystal figurine of some kind off his desk and put it into her jacket pocket.

The principal was in the hall, was talking with a group of kids, so Gina didn't understand why the girl was in there. But she recognized her from the party. Blond hair. Huge blue eyes. She was obviously the queen bee type, probably a part of the popular clique.

So, while the stealing of the object was weird enough, the girl turned, looked right at Gina, and did something even weirder, she winked at Gina before walking out of the principal's office.

"Bye, Mom," she said to Kitty Lynn.

"Goodbye, sweetheart. Don't forget to come by and get your lunch."

"I won't forget." The girl, who must have been Lily, smirked at Gina as she walked out, and Gina couldn't help but feel there was a joke and she'd either missed the punch line or she was subject of the joke.

Taking in a deep breath, she turned to the hallway filled with kids and then she heard the tardy bell rang.

'You got this' She used self-talk to encourage herself. She'd been the new student before when they'd moved from McKinleyville, where her mom had been working and going to college, to Eureka, where she'd gotten her first job in law enforcement as a police officer for the Eureka Police Department. That had seemed like so long ago, but she owed it to her mom to do her best and not be a problem. She had to go with the flow and make everything work out. She could never—ever—be an additional burden to her mother.

That was her biggest worry. To cause her mother any additional upheaval. To be any more problematic than she already was.

Dear God, if only her new friend hadn't deserted her today. She touched the cross necklace that she wore around her neck as if it was a talisman and would make her feel better. She couldn't understand the girl not reaching out to her and saying she wouldn't be there because she'd felt an instant connection to Ashlyn. However, there was a chance that Ashlyn hadn't felt the same about her.

After wandering the halls longer than she should have and growing more anxious by the second, Gina finally found her first-period classroom tucked into a corner of the main building. Unfortunately, the tardy bell had rung about three minutes earlier, so plan A, the plan where she would walk in and take a seat before anyone noticed her, fell by the wayside.

Plan B consisted of two steps. Pull the fire alarm which was against the law, but would work out for her good. Because she could reenter the building with everyone else once the firefighters gave the green light. But just as she was about to pull the little red lever, she noticed a security camera pointed in that general direction. Thus, plan B had to be forgotten as well. Not that she would have done it, but she would've liked having the option.

Left with no other choice, she had to opt for plan C, the worst of the three she'd come up with. It basically involved her walking into the classroom and interrupting a lesson already in progress so that the students would turn their attention on her at the same time and give her their full and undivided attention.

Just great.

She braced herself and opened the door to Ms. Holiday's English I. If nothing else went her way that day, at least Gina could tell her future children that plan C had worked brilliantly. Every student turned toward her as expected, and she stood there frozen in fear.

After what seemed like an eternity had passed in which she prayed again to God this time for the earth to open up and swallow her, she tore her gaze off the sea of faces and scanned the room for Ms. Holiday. She'd assumed the teacher would be the only adult in the room. Instead, she found three adults, all of them standing at the back, staring at her as expectantly as she was staring at them.

Gina could feel the heat rise to her face because of her embarrassment. She was too tall to shrink into herself, but she decided to low her head just enough to let her braids cover most of her face.

But before she lowered her head she realized who everyone was looking at before she so rudely interrupted the class. A boy was standing at the front of the classroom, holding a piece of paper as though giving a report. A boy who she immediately recognized.

She had seen him a few times at the lake when she'd spent her summers and winter breaks with her grandparents, but she'd never talked to him before. In fact, nobody ever seemed to talk to him for very long. Even though everyone would wave at him or try to convince him to join in with their groups, he would just sort of hang back and watch everyone else have fun. She thought he was a loner by choice and not because nobody else wanted to be around him.

However, something about him had fascinated her and she could barely keep her eyes off of him. Now, he looked even more mesmerizing. He was taller than she'd expected. And more . . . attractive.

She thought she'd seen him at the New Year's party as well, but when she'd looked again for him, he was gone and there were two law enforcement cars racing toward the scene instead.

"Can I help you?" one of the adults asked, a woman with long straight blonde hair and a supermodel physique interrupted her gawking at the boy.

Gina tried to center herself. She cleared her throat and walked to the back of the classroom to hand the woman who was obviously her teacher, her schedule, and all the eyes in the classroom remained locked on her like heat-seeking missiles.

The woman looked at her schedule, welcomed her to the class, and gestured toward a seat, explaining something about a poetry reading, but Gina was already inside herself. Everything outside registered only as a droning hum over the blood rushing in her ears.

The only positive thing about the entire experience was that the teacher didn't introduce her to the entire class which was a small blessing.

After she sat down, she ignored the stares and fought to climb back out of her self-imposed exile, to reenter the world she shied away from all too often.

And then she heard a soft and deep and lyrical voice.

She looked up. The boy had continued to read from the paper he held, and the words out of his mouth rushed over her like restoring springs of water. The poem was about a trapped owl yet even imprisoned, the bird's powerful wings caused the air underneath them to stir and curl as it fought for its freedom like a hurricane demanding to be set free on nature. One simply had to look close enough to see the power building beneath it before it was able to get free.

"One simply has to take the time to see," he said before folding the paper and stuffing it into his front pocket.

The class along with the adults in the back clapped, many with genuine appreciation, and the teacher beamed at him.

"See?" she said as she walked to the front of the room. She looked back at the other two adults. "Isn't his poetry like song lyrics? He is such a gifted writer already at fourteen."

Gina quickly stole a glance over her shoulder and saw that the adults wore pleased expressions on their faces as is they agreed with her teacher and were in awe of the boy's talent.

"That was really beautiful," one of them said. "Ms. Holiday was right, Ricky. You're very talented. Your work is so original."

The other woman agreed with a nod, but when Gina turned back to him, the, boy, Ricky, she now knew his named seemed to be anything but happy. Either he didn't believe them or he didn't care enough about their opinions. He nodded his head in response which caused his curly hair to fall over his eyes before he went to his desk and sat down.

While he was sitting, his body was still facing the classroom, he stopped for a minute to look at her. To literally stare into her eyes. He held the stare longer than he should have, the startling intensity of his attention shocking her.

She let out a breath of relief when he finally turned in his seat and faced the front as a couple of boys wearing red-and-white letterman jackets patted his shoulder, and a couple of girls wearing sweaters of the same colors gave him admiring smiles. Again, he didn't seem to want or need their affirmation, but he took it with grace and not arrogance.

Gina couldn't move or think the only thing she did feel was her heart beat with heavy thumps against her rib cage, then she spent the next couple of minutes trying to figure out the look he'd given her as another student read a poem about a cat who died after getting on top of a rocket and going into outer space because it wanted to jump over the moon but couldn't breathe in space so was not just floating around until all was left was nothing but his essence.

She couldn't waste time thinking about the insane poem whose author must be on some powerful drugs, but she could waste time thinking about the boy's name, Ricky. She wondered if it was short for Richard or Ricardo or something. He was definitely not a Richard or Ricardo, so his nickname fit him, though she couldn't figure out why she even thought that.

Forcing herself to finally look away from the back of his curly head, she took the next few minutes to look at the other students around her. Some she recognized from her summers in town, but she'd never really gotten to know any of their names. Faces, yes, but that was as far as it went.

One girl who looked familiar, a pretty black girl with bleached curly natural hair. The girl did the unexpected thing of waving when she looked at her, and she actually wiggled in her seat with excitement. The girl's smile she was genuine, and Gina began to breathe a little easier. At least she had one friendly face at school. She wouldn't be a complete pariah.

Unfortunately, there were a few unfriendly faces sprinkled throughout the curious onlookers as well. The faces all seemed to belong to friends of that girl Lily, who'd stolen the figurine from the principal's office. While Lily kept her eyes on Gina, her smile was not so much as friendly as it was deviously calculating, and her friends' glares were very cold and unwelcoming.

She couldn't believe that she was the recipient of all this animosity because they thought she was a snitch. There had to be more to it than that. They could cool the Sahara desert with the kind of shade they were casting her way.

Lily chose that moment to lean over and say something to Ricky. One corner of his mouth lifted in response, and another kid, named Bastian Blythe, shoved him from behind playfully.

She knew Bastian's name because everyone knew Bastian's name. He was rich. And cute. And rich.

"Does anyone else want to read his or her poem?" Mrs. Holiday asked. When nobody raised their hand, she continued, "You guys had two weeks to come up with your original poems. Surely, someone else—"

A knock at the door interrupted the teacher, and before she could get to the door, the principal walked in with the school's security officer with him.

He spoke softly with Mrs. Holiday, whose worried gaze moved across the room until it landed on Gina. She froze for the second time that day in that classroom.

"Regina Porter?" the principal said.

Gina hesitated, then nodded her head as if acknowledging that she was indeed Regina Porter. Neither man looked happy to see her.

Then, in a tone that could break concrete, he said, "You need to come with us."

She was still frozen, so she couldn't move at first. The heat of embarrassment once again consumed her, and it took her a moment to gather her thing and get out of her seat. She wouldn't have dared to look around her if not for the giggling that came from one of the girls who was seated beside Lily.

She looked at them. Lily was actually gloating like she had succeeded in doing something, and Gina knew she was in trouble. The students felt she needed payback for being a snitch, and they were glad that their plain to get revenge on her for the raid had worked.

Just as she got to the door, she couldn't help herself from looking back at Ricky. The poet. The one with dark curly hair and a presence that made her hunger to be around him. It was if he was a werewolf who had imprinted himself on her. But if anger had the ability to shape-shift into human form, she imagined it would look just like him at that moment. The bond she felt earlier was now broken because he appeared to be disgusted with her.

Apparently, the entire school wanted to see her go down for something she didn't do.

"Mayor Berry," Cedes said as she welcomed Rachel into her office. The room had a large desk, bookshelves, a couple of guest chairs, and a computer. Rachel Berry headed to her chair behind the desk, but Cedes stopped her by pushing the chair to the side of the table where she sat down.

Rachel went to the one of the guest chairs and made a production of sitting down and putting her phone into her purse giving Cedes her full attention. "Sheriff Porter."

Rachel was a thin and petite woman with a large nose, and beautiful long brown hair with highlights. She was that girl in town who as a youth wasn't popular as a student at Lima High School where she was actually bullied by the popular crowd, but with adulthood became better dressed, wore expensive labels, and knew how to schmooze influential people. She was self-conceited and one would think a mayor would be focused on the betterment of his or her town, but she was only focusing on making herself look important because her dreams of becoming a famous singer/actress in Hollywood were never realized. Using the excuse that her talent was best for stage of Broadway and not LA, she came back home and used her casting couch ethics to launch her political career.

She always hated Cedes because she truly believed Cedes dated and ran away with her crush, Finn Hudson, when they were seniors in high school. Until that moment they had been frenemies auditioning for the same roles in the school's high school musicals and for leads in their school's chorus. But after the rumors of Cedes and Finn were spread around school, Rachel had never spoken to her again.

She was surprised when the woman offered her her hand to shake. She was not surprised when mayor got right to the point of her visit. "So, how in the world did you become sheriff of our county? Who did you use to stuff the ballot boxes or blackmail to have the results in your favor?"

Cedes cleared her throat and walked to the window to look out on their quaint little town. "Well, I actually didn't do anything at all. Unlike some people I can name. I don't resort to the adage of winning by any means necessary."

When she turned around to stare at Rachel, the woman only pursed her lips, so Cedes continued, "Are you accusing me of using your tactics to win an election or excuse me that would also involve something a little more risqué as well that I wouldn't dare mention." Cedes had heard that Rachel gave out oral sex for her biggest campaign contributor as well as was sleeping with the married former sheriff among others to curry favor and ensure support. She was still single not because she was unattractive or desirable, but because no man who knew her wanted her when they realized how she was willing to sleep and her suck her way to the top.

"It's okay for you to use deflection." Rachel put on her expensive sunglasses and stood up as she headed to the door. "I will discover the truth. As you and I know nothing stays secret in Lima Springs for long unless it has to do with you and your faulty memory, but we all know one or two things that probably happened that you don't want revealed."

Cedes suppressed a shudder of dread. Honestly, what had her parents done? Making an enemy of the mayor could not have been their plan. Rachel Berry would use her body, position, and influence to uncover all of Cedes' deepest secrets. Her parents never considered the fact that they were citizens of Lima Springs and the United States and were bound to the laws of the land. Their rebellion more so on her mother's part and not her fathers had resulted in her mother accidentally growing marijuana in her garden several years before they became a legal dispensary. Even though the pot was only for her mom's personal use with her friends, she didn't sell it until it was legalized five years later. Her father worshipped the ground her mother walked on, and would overlook everything her mother did and even assist her if she asked. Even after all these years, she still had that man wrapped her around tiny finger. He was her willing accomplice whenever she decided to do something outrageous or illegal. The ends always justified the means in her opinion.

"In the meantime, you might want to research a concept called the glass cliff." Rachel told her before leaving.

Cedes tried not to laugh. She failed miserably, but at least she'd given her all. "Is that what you think this situation is?"

The glass cliff was a play on the metaphor of a glass ceiling. Only in this scenario, a woman or minority, which she was both, was put in a position of authority during a time of crisis. In other words, he or she was set up to take the fall when everything went to hell.

"Is little Lima Springs County really on the verge of a scandalous catastrophe?"

"Haven't you heard?" She asked as she turned to walk out. "You might want to do your job and investigate."

What did that mean? No one told her her hometown and county had any major problems.

"I'll let you in on a secret." Rachel stopped and turned back being the consummate drama queen that she was. "I don't really care how you came into office. I appreciate a good law enforcement officer as much as the next person. Especially one with your record."

"My record?" Now she was just embarrassed. "I know you are not talking about the duet album I did with Hunter when we were sixteen. We recorded that in one take. In Hunter's garage with a live band. We didn't even have a decent sound system."

"You are so funny. I am talking about the time you beat up that college student who'd murdered that girl, handcuffed him to you, and tortured him while bringing him in to the nearest police station."

Cedes laughed softly. Good times. The guy refused to allow her to arrest him, so he tried to kill her, she had to defend herself without shooting him, so she did show him how somebody half his size could take him down. She was working undercover as a college student herself at the time. She didn't torture him, he just kept crying all the way to the station not believing that a little black girl was a cop who beat his ass and brought him in. Cedes was sure that Hunter was responsible for the version of the story that Rachel was droning on about.

"I'll make you a deal."

That perked Cedes up. "And what kind of deal do you think I would willingly make with the she devil?"

"You still have that weird sense of humor that you have always used to deflect from the sadness of your life. We are adults now, Mercedes. You are an important elected official. It's time for you to play the game. If you can get me all of the names of the Dangerous Damsels; I'll let the whole illegal election thing slide."

Cedes didn't even bother trying to suppress her laughter. "You're talking about my jokes. You have to be kidding. The Dangerous Damsels? Would you also like Santa's email while I'm at it or the Tooth Fairy's phone number?"

Rachel didn't move an inch.

"You can't honestly tell me that you believe they exist?"

"I don't just believe it; I know they do," she said. "How else can you explain your win?"

Cedes looked at Berry as if she had lost her ever loving mind. "I've heard they prefer being called the Diabolical Daughters."

"I've heard that, too. I've also heard them called the Devil's Due. The Damnable Dears. Even the Despicable Dowagers. Take your pick. I just want their names."

The Dangerous Damsels were supposedly the members of a group of women who'd secretly run the town since it went from being a bankrupt mining town to a hippie commune during the thirties to the early seventies. The group of women were supposed to operated behind the scenes so the men wouldn't know who saved the town. They were tired of women being seen as damsels in distress but were smart enough to know that the menfolk would never take them seriously or give them credit.

"And how do you propose I get the names of the members of a group that doesn't even exist?"

"I'm sure a detective of your caliber will think of something."

"Or?"

"Or I'll go through your past with a razor-sharp blade and rip it apart, bit by bit, Mrs. Porter." She leaned in as though sharing a secret. "You really don't want that, do you Mrs. Spencer Porter?"

When she turned and left the office, Cedes realized she'd been holding her breath with that last threat. She most definitely did not want anyone sifting through her past. One of those things she'd give her life to keep hidden. Something her daughter could never, under any circumstances, find out.

Thus, she had a choice to make. Did she cut this bitch, set this bitch and her home on fire, or destroy Rachel Berry's online presence and get that bitch sent to prison for kiddie porn?