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She stays behind to clean up.
She has no interest in having to give Veronica specifics, so she might as well get it all done now.
(It’s not like she has anywhere else to be.)
By the time she’s done, Toni is exhausted and craving a warm bed and a good night’s sleep.
(The truth is, she never had a real bed growing up – just a beat up old pull-out mattress. Nothing had ever been as comfortable as Cheryl’s four poster bed.
As Cheryl’s arms.)
(Toni briefly wonders if anything ever will be again.)
She swallows her pride and instead just heads over to one of the speakeasy's more comfortable booths. You’ve slept in worse, she reminds herself as she curls up in it, wrapping herself up in a large coat that some obnoxious rich dude must have left behind.
She pulls out her phone and begins to scroll through it.
(Before she moved into Thistlehouse, whenever they would spend nights apart, Cheryl would always send her a goodnight text. It didn’t matter if they had spent the day together or apart or even if they had just hung up the phone from talking – the text would always be there.
Toni feels tears well up at the lack of text.
She blinks them away.)
(Even before Cheryl though, her groupchat with the boys would always be lively – memes and dumb jokes about Northsiders littering her phone. Toni glances at the last message she received, months ago, from Sweet Pea.
So that’s how it’s going 2 be huh? Sending ur girl to jump us? Coward
Toni remembers how she had to steady herself after the text, how she swallowed back the lump forming in her throat – how the realization hit her that things had irrevocably changed.)
She decides to tap over to the Pretty Poisons groupchat instead. She finds the girls apparently all binging some movie on Netflix, if their running commentary is anything to go by.
She catches the title of the movie through her scrolling and remembers Cheryl mentioning wanting to do a movie night to see it.
Toni squeezes her eyes shut as the traitorous tears escape.
(She knows this was the right call. They moved too soon, too fast. It was the right thing to do, she reassures herself.)
(It doesn’t stop the ache in her heart.
It doesn’t stop her love for Cheryl.
Fuck reassurances.)
She locks her phone and lets herself cry as exhaustion finally overtakes her.
She wakes the next morning and groggily glances at her phone.
10:05am
Guess I’m skipping, she thinks.
Toni stands and stretches – her back sore, her neck stiff. She quietly walks upstairs, hoping to avoid any of the staff and having to explain herself, but she has no such luck as someone calls her name.
“I was wondering when you’d be up. I thought about shaking you when I came in, but the smell of bleach downstairs was strong. Figured you had a long night?” Pop Tate says with a warm smile.
“Yeah,” Toni replies. And you don’t even know the half of it.
“Well anyway, I think Veronica has you all working too hard. Security, cleaning up. It’s a lot. Here,” he says, setting down a plate of breakfast in front of her. “On the house. You deserve it.”
Toni only hesitates for a second before diving in.
(She knows what it’s like to go hungry. She knows the value of a hot meal.)
It’s a little past eleven when she’s done, so she opts to take advantage of the fact that Cheryl is probably still at school in order to go get her stuff.
Might as well get it over with.
She revs her bike and heads out.
To the Northside.
She’s not sure if she should be surprised or not, but all of her things have already been collected for her.
Her duffle bag sits just inside the foyer and, well, Cheryl is nothing if not single-mindedly focused and efficient in her anger.
(Toni’s just grateful the bag itself wasn’t left on the porch.)
She walks around the house though, before she spots Nana Rose in the conservatory. She’s there, tending to her roses.
“Nana Rose,” Toni quietly calls out to her.
“Oh, hello dear. Cheryl was looking for you,” the old woman replies.
“Really?” Toni asks and her heart can’t help but beat faster at the revelation.
Maybe she’s changed her mind, maybe we can work something out, maybe there’s hope–
“Yes. Yesterday afternoon, she came to me looking for you and I informed her of the….rent.”
.
.
.
(Oh.)
“Oh. I see,” Toni says swallowing back the newly-formed lump in her throat. “Nana Rose, I’m going to be….moving out.”
“Whatever for?”
“It’s...complicated. Things between Cheryl and I are complicated right now and this might be what’s best for us.”
The woman says nothing in response, so Toni walks up to her as she fiddles with her key ring. She pulls out the key to the front door and sets it on the table next to the older woman. Nana Rose’s eye follows her every move.
“Thank you for your hospitality.”
When the woman says nothing again, Toni just turns around and begins to walk away.
She quietly exits the house, locking the door behind her.
(Toni thinks of her uncle’s trailer.
Of Tent City.
Of Thistlehouse.
She adds it to the list.
Just another home you’re no longer welcomed at.)
Toni revs her engine.
She doesn’t look back.
She ends up in a bit of a secluded spot down by Sweetwater River. She wastes no time in setting up her tent and jumping into the cold waters of the river for a quick wash.
(Toni has always kept some toiletries and some food in her duffle bag. Always ready to be on the move – to be on the go – at a moment’s notice.
She thinks back to a few weeks ago though, when she briefly thought she might not have to do that anymore.
Her heart aches.)
It’s later that evening, as she uses her little bonfire to heat up some canned beans, that her phone beeps.
A text message.
Toni rushes over to unlock it.
Maybe she’s changed her mind, maybe we can work something out, maybe there’s hope–
.
.
.
(Oh.)
Toni, hello! I had hoped to catch you in school today, but you were absent. As you obviously know. Regardless, the school is letting us do another musical this year – all thanks to our good friends at The Farm! A last minute change of, well, the actual musical we’re doing, has caused us to need some extra helping hands – particularly in the dancing department. I was wondering if perhaps you’d be interested in stepping in as choreographer? A small ensemble role is also up for grabs, if that sweetens the deal. Please let me know ASAP we’d love to have you come onboard!
Xoxo Kevin
A beat passes, before another text comes through.
P.S. I heard about you and Cheryl. I’m sorry.
(Toni takes a shaky breath as she reads the last line.)
She considers Kevin’s offer and finds that something like this sounds perfect for getting her mind off of things.
Count me in, she answers back as she starts to dig into her food.
Another message comes through almost instantly.
Perfect! Thank you! This year’s musical will be Heathers. Here are some links to the songs and to some of the live performances. Obviously we can’t recreate it all beat for beat, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to make us all shine!
Toni clicks on the playlist first, lets the sounds of the musical fill the air as she watches the sun finish setting.
She might not be able to mend her relationship or her broken heart right now, but she sure as hell can help mend this stupid musical.
(Toni wonders if that’ll be enough for now.)
.
.
.
(She knows it won’t.)