Chapter Text
Lydia forgets that with being the new student she’s supposed to be introduced to her new classes, so she’s immersed in watching her new tattoo when someone taps her shoulder lightly, bringing her out of her reverie. Glancing up, she finds who she assumes to be her teacher calling for her.
“Ms. Martin?”
She nods stupidly; she should be paying attention. Grabbing her purse and getting up, Lydia makes her way to the front of the class, realizing that she even took someone else’s seat while she had been distracted, the seat of a tall, blonde girl who’s looking at Lydia like she committed a felony. Of course all of her classmates would have their own seats; she’s the new student, not them. Focus, Lydia. She smiles to the class and it's a forced smile, she realizes. Not like the smiles she gave the boy just two minutes ago, come to think of it, even if they were small and brief.
She endures the awkward introduction while praying that things won’t feel this foreign for the rest of the day, and nods absently at whatever the teacher, Ms. Norris, is asking her. Directing a polite smile to the older woman, Lydia makes her way through the room looking for another place to sit. Walking by the blonde, she almost flinches at the way the girl is looking at her; her eyes are like daggers.
Two years ago, Lydia would have made that girl stand up and step away from the seat if Lydia would have been to decide that that was the best seat for herself. Not today, though. Today, she sits on the last desk available in one of the corners in the back of the classroom, and she can’t help but to feel trapped, insecure, even breathless.
When the teacher starts writing on the chalkboard – after what, to Lydia, felt like an hour -, the students slowly drift their attention from the redhead to the lesson that’s about to start, but not all students. Everyone turns but the blonde - who takes a moment longer to glare at Lydia like she’s about to rip her head off - and a brunette sitting at Lydia’s left.
When the blonde eventually turns around on her seat, Lydia glances at the brunette who’s still eyeing her with amused - almost curious - features. A small smile appears on the girl’s lips. “You just got your tattoo, didn't you?” she whispers to Lydia.
Two years ago, Lydia would have given the girl an icy stare, making her regret ever glaring at Lydia like that, let alone talk to her without being spoken to first. But this is not two years ago, and it'll never be again. You need to let go, Lydia, she thinks to herself, swallowing dryly at the girl's question, blushing without her own consent. "H- How did you know?" she murmurs, taken by surprise.
The girl smiles bright. She waits a few minutes to answer Lydia in a hushed tone, waits until Ms. Norris – who, in the meantime, had started talking to the class - turns around to face the board again. "You came into the classroom looking like you just saw a ghost and kept looking at your wrist like you couldn’t believe what you were seeing, like something that wasn’t there before was now. Figured it had to be it. Aside from me, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who just got theirs," she exclaims excitedly.
Lydia blushes further, glancing at her wrist again just to make sure the words are still engraved there. “So, you already have your tattoo, then?”
“Better,” the girl grins, showing Lydia her left wrist discreetly not to catch the teacher’s attention.
Lydia gasps lowly. On the brunette’s wrists can be easily seen two sets of words instead of the standard one - which is a rare occurrence in this world, even if the rules seem to be changing with the younger generations -, both marked permanently. “You have two?”
The girl nods, smiling bright. “Yup. So did you just meet your soulmate, like here, in Beacon Hills High School?” Lydia nods, not sure of what she’s supposed to answer. “Wow. What a coincidence, uh? Right on your first day here, who would say?”
Lydia purses her lips in a thin line and shrugs. The blonde girl looks over her shoulder and whispers something to a classmate, who giggles and stares at Lydia briefly. Lydia averts her eyes. The girl beside Lydia notices the exchange and reassures her, smiling. “Don’t mind Erica. She’s a bitch who’s got nothing better to do than to gossip. She’ll forget about you in a minute, I promise.”
They don’t talk much for the rest of the class because Ms. Norris gives them a stern look when Lydia is about to answer the brunette and they end up quieting. Their silence is only broken when Lydia looks at the girl and murmurs as lowly as she can, another easy smile escaping her lips for the second time that day, which strikes the redhead as more unfamiliar than having to be introduced to her classmates; it’s not a position she finds herself in very often. “I’m Lydia.”
The brunette beams, the warmth of her eyes and smile making Lydia feel comforted in a way she can’t really explain. “Allison. It’s nice to meet you.”