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Temperance looks around, slumping down against the lockers and onto the floor as she thinks of all the ways she could escape the disaster that was this evening. She hadn’t wanted to come- it had felt unnecessary for her to show up and watch someone be elected as a queen based on popularity, and although she understands the dynamics of the metaphorical beehive, she also knows that she is, by definition, very fucking unpopular.
She knows the importance of social status, but as she’d watched her peers dance and seemingly have a better time than she was, she’d felt a strange sense of… alienation. It wasn’t new, but in this particular scenario, it had been overwhelming enough for her to seek solitude in a corridor far from the gymnasium.
She hadn’t had that many friends throughout her life, probably due to her social skills, but for some reason, the awkwardness decides to stick to her skin like her clothes after a rainy day that specific evening.
She hadn’t wanted to go, but Russ had been so encouraging that she hadn’t been able to say ‘ no’ . On the off chance that she might have a little fun and dance with someone (something she did not feel inclined to), she’d worn the prettiest dress she could find within budgetary limits- it was green, had thin straps that showed off her creamy shoulders, and was just silky enough. She wasn’t particularly good at make-up (or at all ), but with the help of about three tutorials and some make-up she’d borrowed from Russ’ girlfriend, she’d managed to get by. She usually had a steep learning curve, but some things clearly took more time than others.
Her parents weren’t there anymore, but she still had Russ to care for her. That was good enough.
**
She’s staring at her feet, sitting with her legs crossed as she wipes a tear away from her face. She’s never felt this foolish in her entire life- she’d rather have complete control over her emotions, but this is simply not happening tonight.
She tries to pull herself together as she hears footsteps approaching. She sniffles a bit too loudly, furiously wiping her cheeks and hiding her face in her hands.
“Hey…” She hears a voice, and looks up to see someone staring at her, “Temperance, right?”
The other girl smiles at her, seemingly shimmering in the low light of the corridor.
Temperance sniffles slightly, bringing her knees to her chest and resting her head on them. She eyes the other girl carefully, “How do you know my name?”
“I’ve… heard… things about you,” the girl says, and extends her hand. Temperance recognizes her as the star of the softball team. She eyes her carefully, given what she knows all about jocks and their alleged reputation, “I’m Angela.”
Temperance reaches out slowly, shaking it, “I know who you are… You’ve heard… things?” She slowly says, narrowing her eyes a bit, “About me, I presume?”
“Well,” she tilts her head slowly, smirking a bit, and Temperance feels her heart rate pick-up just a bit, “I’ve heard for one that you murdered that poor Sarah girl- you know, gossip and all... Personally, I don’t believe it. You look super sweet… Even when you’ve got mascara tears all over your cute little face,” she reaches for a tissue and extends her hand out slowly, pausing as if to ask if touching her is okay. Temperance nods slightly.
“Well, I guess I should thank you for thinking I look okay with my eyes all red and puffy…” she says, while Angela tries to wipe the tears away. She takes another look at the red streak in Angela’s hair, “You look… rad .”
Now that’s a word she hasn’t used in a while.
“I know, thank you very much,” she grins and flips her hair slightly. It suddenly dawns upon Temperance that she doesn’t know the reason Angela is making conversation with her. Jocks are usually mean and tend to border on idiotic, but Angela seems nice and Temperance has to admit that she feels… something when the other girl looks at her.
“So… Why are you talking to me?” She blurts out, “It’s not like I’m the most popular person in this school… And we all know how jocks are…”
“Now, that’s just offensive,” she points an accusatory finger at Temperance, “Do you know what they say about assumptions?”
“No…”
“Assume makes an ass out of you U and ME?” She tries, shaking her head upon seeing the confused look on Temperance’s face, “Besides, it’s prom night and you’re sitting alone in the science corridor, so… I’m guessing it’s not going too well for you. What, did your date dump you to do a backflip to Bump ‘n Grind? God knows where mine went...”
“I…” She trails off, “What?” She simply asked in a weak voice, as her brain tried to catch up to Angela’s words.
“Oh, sweetie, you have so much to learn…” She chuckles, raising an eyebrow. She pulls out a small flask out of her red purse, “I have this. I don’t know you well, but you look like you could use a drink, babes.”
“The legal drinking age is twenty-one years old...”
“And?” She shrugs her shoulders as she takes a swig out of the bottle, “Besides, I think it’s very fucking stupid that I”m allowed to vote and go to war but can’t have a little vodka with my apple juice, if you ask me.”
“I… concede your point.”
“Good, because I was hoping you weren’t the kind of person to rat me out to Mr. Connor. He once tried to give me detention because I was ‘treating his class like it was The Louvre’,” she scoffs, using her fingers to make air quotes, “Mind you, all I did was doodle a flower in a far corner of my sheet… I was baffled.”
“Oh, god,” She giggles a bit at the mention of the teacher, “He gave me detention for calling him a fool once, but I feel it was warranted… He got a radioactive isotope wrong. Any competent so-called ‘chemistry teacher’ should know better,” she recalls, as she reaches for the bottle. Who knows, a little liquor might not hurt… She scrunches up her nose as the smell hits her nostrils, and tentatively brings her lips to the bottle. The alcohol burns her throat on the way down, and she finds herself cringing slightly, “God, that is poisonous.”
“Yeah, you’ll get used to it after a while… But that one bit about Mr. Connor is very understandable. I think... If I could, I would hundred percent spit on him. No mercy, just aim at his forehead or his shoes.”
“That seems highly unsanitary,” Temperance frowns, taking another swig from the bottle and Angela grins. It’s still uncomfortable, but not as unpleasant as she thought it would be. She feels mesmerized by the slightly rosy shade Angela’s cheeks seem to have adopted as a result of their intoxication, but she feels the fluttering in her stomach might not be caused by the alcohol.
“Which is exactly why I’m doing it,” she says, poking Temperance’s shoulder slightly. She finds she doesn’t mind the physical contact, “I can’t shoot a gun or fight, but if anything happens, I can spit with deadly accuracy . It’s come in handy so many more times than you’d think...” She grins dreamily.
**
She spends a questionable amount of time rambling about teachers, the syllabus and how much she can’t wait to leave this school. Angela doesn’t interrupt her when she talks about her parents, and when Angela makes a joke about her turning out just fine, she can’t help the grin that makes its way to her face.
Angela lets her complain, before doing the same and launching into a tirade about her teammates, art mediums- she's apparently a very skilled artist, too- and her dad- who is a rockstar? When they’re done, they sit in silence for a minute, but for once, it doesn’t feel uncomfortable, and she feels oddly at peace.
Angela suddenly shifts her entire body to face Temperance, “Hey,” she reaches out for Temperance’s arm, “Tell me a secret.”
“Oh... What type of secret?”
“I don’t know, something stupid that no one knows about you… Like, uh… My birth name is Pookie Noodlin… And now that I’ve told you that, I feel a sudden urge to shift the subject, so, uh… I really fucking hated Romeo and Juliet,” she rolls her eyes, “Every time my lit teacher brings it up as an example of romantic love, I’m just like, girl, please don’t kill yourself for some guy. You can do so much better, you know? I mean, what the hell was Shakespeare on?”
“I have to agree on that… I find the idea of committing suicide for someone you barely know to be… silly . And I won’t comment on your name, if that’s what you wish.”
“Thank you… I feel validated. Now, you!” Angela bounces up and down, excitedly clapping her hands.
“Well… I can’t think of anything other than my crush on Andy Flueger last year, and that ended well,” she cringes at the memory of the Brainy Smurf that had been taped to her locker on the last day before Christmas break.
“Yeah, don’t mind him, he’s an asshole,” she waves her hand dismissively, “He keeps trying to spread rumors about me secretly being a lesbian because I refuse to let him take me out,” she scrunches up her face in disgust, "Yeah, like I want to spend the evening watching him trying to do belly flops at the municipal pool. Hard pass."
“And... Is it true?” She finds herself oddly curious, "I mean... the rumors."
“What? That I'm a lesbian?” She asks, and Temperance nods- a little too eagerly, but she chalks it up to the ethanol coursing through her veins- despite the fact she hasn’t had that much of it, “Oh, honey, no… I mean, I like girls… but I also like boys… Sometimes… ” She trails off.
Temperance simply nods.
“And you? What are you into?” Temperance’s eyes widen at the question, her heart rate picking up slightly. She’s never questioned her sexual orientation before, but as she stares at the way Angela’s hair falls on her shoulders and the curve of her smiles, she realizes there might be more when it comes to these matters.
“I’ve never thought of it… But…” She trails off, slapping her hands on her flaming cheeks and looking down, “Well, this is embarrassing.”
“What’s embarrassing? Is everything okay down in Temperance-town?”
“I just…” Oh, fuck it. She’s never been a spontaneous person by nature but if this goes wrong, she’ll simply blame it on the fact that she’s intoxicated, even if the extent of said intoxication is her head spinning slightly and something simmering in the pit of her stomach she can’t quite pinpoint- and even she acknowledges that it might not actually be due to that. “You’re very beautiful- and I don’t just mean aesthetically… It makes me question things, and I do not like ambiguity.”
She takes Temperance’s hands and pulls them away from her face, not letting go.
“Would you like me to help with that?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows, and Temperance doesn’t miss the proximity of their faces.
“Are you going to refer me to the library? They probably have some books on the subject, although I do not enjoy psychology…”
Angela simply laughs, “I think you know what I mean, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” she inches closer, and Temperance feels herself getting dizzy with anticipation, “Would you like me to kiss you?” She says, her brown eyes burrowing into Temperance’s icy blues.
Temperance swallows the lump in her throat, slowly nodding, “Yes.”
Angela leans in even closer, slowly pressing her lips against Temperance’s. She’s never been kissed before, so she doesn’t know what to expect, but her heart is wildly racing and this is entirely new. She’ll blame it on rushes of hormones later, but as she tangles her hands in Angela’s hair, she decides to simply let herself enjoy the moment.
... Okay, she most definitely likes girls.