After what seemed an interminable time, the other girl in the orange uniform broke. Her voice dissonant, but soon enough she was chanting along her friend, matching her note by note, word by word, joyful both.
“And, there we see, everyone!” The Korean-looking cheerleader said as if speaking to a jury. “That those who try so hard to break the rules are, themselves, easily broken.”
A chorus of girly chuckling.
“Oh, Dae,” Mikayla didn’t say, but so much as worship the name. “That’s, like, a clever one.”
“Bah. I’ve heard better puns. Though, gotta admit, seeing little rebels getting broken always makes me… excited,” Zoe’s voice broke a little with the last word. As if aware of how that had sounded, the goth cheerleader stepped back a little. Jonatha didn’t even think of telling her sister off for biting her finger.
Dae, that names sounds oddly… familiar, Jon thought, scratching his head. It felt like he should know her, but as hard as he tried nothing came to mind. However, the longer he looked at the woman the more he realised that he was acquainted with that voice, if not her… body?
There was a flash in Jon’s mind. A memory of a camp, years ago, of a dare and a lake. A kiss that wasn’t a kiss. Words tumbling out of a mouth, puckered, fingers gripping tightly around her cheeks. The lipstick wasn’t her colour, she didn’t want it, but the whispering cheers were too much. Too powerful. No, no, she said. Trying so hard to stop them from doing… changing something—
“Holy fucking shit!” Zoe cried.
Jon was brought out of the memory. He put a hand to his chest, feeling the heaving of his breasts, the beating of his heart. A little sweat had formed there.
He blinked his long, feminine eyelashes and turned to look at what Zoe had had to push through to get closer at.
“Come, Mikayla,” Jon said sternly, stepping closer to her sister. As she stood behind Zoe, Jon slapped the back of her head.
“Oi!”
“Language,” Jon said, sternly. More sternly than he ever remembered being with Zoe.
And, to his amazement, the goth girl just pouted, apologized, and went on watching.
Okay, now, that is a positive about this world.
A fight had broken out.
The steampunk cheerleader’s tophat rolled off to the side. She was pinned down, the two girls in orange holding her arms as Dae grabbed her by the neck.
The girl in the hoodie had tried to get up and run, but some of Dae’s cronies had tackled her to the sand again. However, she wasn’t faring well at all. Whoever the girl in the hoodie was, she knew her way around locks and kicks and was doing short work of the now three cheerleaders trying to pile on top of her.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Dae cried at her cronies. “Just push her face into the sand.”
