Chapter Text
This is the Morning Cup O’News with Dan and Donna!
“Good morning, Hatchetfield! We interrupt your morning broadcast to present to you an important news bulletin.”
“Word has got around to us here on the island that the pandemic first thought to be a super virus strain of the fun has now been determined to be a lethal pathogen, seemingly capable of reanimating-“
Stephanie Lauter, in the backseat of her father’s car, tutted, rolling her eyes. “That could’ve been important,” she told him.
Solomon Lauter remained facing the road. “What do Donna Daggit and Dan Reynolds know about illnesses. There is no such thing as zombies.”
“You thought that about Lumberaxe and look at what happened to me in the summer,” she reminded bluntly. “Or did I need to keep telling you about my tragic near death experience? About how I almost died?” She gestured next to her. “Pete broke his goddamn leg for me.”
Peter Spankoffski, also sitting in the backseat of Solomon Lauter’s car, blushed. His hair fell in his face in an attempt to hide his red cheeks, though he had the darkest feeling that both Solomon and Steph had seen him blushing. “…it really wasn’t that cool.”
“Oh, please,” Steph tutted, looking at him. “You are so much cooler than you think you are.”
“Just like how you’re smarter than you think you are?”
“…maybe.” Steph tugged her beanie down on her head. “Anyway! I’ve been following the pandemic closely! If this isn’t just a virus now, if this is something worse then surely we should be shutting off the Nantucket, right?” Solomon remained silent, so Steph spoke up. “Right?!”
“Whatever illness Dan and Donna were reporting on cannot be that awful. It is December 2020, Stephanie. Everyone and their mother have a cold. And I know that the word “reanimate” is feeding into your bizarre obsession with the horror genre, but for goodness sakes, Stephanie, open your eyes and see the truth. There is no such thing as zombies.”
She rolled her eyes again. “…useless.”
“If I’m so useless, would you like me to drop you off on the side of the road so you can walk the rest of the way to school?”
“I’m pretty comfortable here, Solomon, but I do thank you for the offer.”
She quietened up, deciding not to say anything unless spoken to, much like what Pete was doing. He had the right idea. She did not. After all, she never had been good at keeping her mouth shut.
If she’d kept her mouth shut at camp, then she and Pete wouldn’t have gotten thrown in solitary confinement. If she’d kept her mouth shut, then Lumberaxe wouldn’t have found them in the woods. If she’d kept her mouth shut, Pete wouldn’t have broken his leg. If she’d just remained quiet, then maybe they wouldn’t have died.
But if they hadn’t of almost died, then where would they currently be?
Steph could remember it so clearly. She’d been sitting on a bench outside the camp counsellor’s cabins at the end of the summer. Ever since Jeri and Jerry’s disappearances, Grace Chasity took it upon herself to lead I Don’t Wanna Bang into the ground. Equipped with a freshly sharpened (and partially blood stained) axe, none of the camp’s attendees dared mess with her, including Steph. It was unusual for the girl, considering all she wanted to do was mess with routine. After almost losing her life once that passing summer, she didn’t think it’d be best to do it again.
She had no idea what changed between her father shipping her off to camp and her father coming to collect her. What she did know was that she’d been sitting there, in her stupid pink shirt and her stupid hiking shorts when his stupid car had rolled up. She had not looked up to face him. She did not need to. She was already bracing herself for a verbal scolding, about how she was so foolish. About how she’d been sent there so people would know exactly where she was, not so she could almost get herself killed. She was bracing herself for venomous words puncturing her skin…but they did not come. For the first time in the past half decade, she felt her father’s arms around her, holding her tightly. It was as if he was afraid to let her go. That if he did, she would crumble into her dust. That if he did, she would die…what a bizarre thought that was.
He took her home, and ever since, he had practically been at her beck and call. Anything she asked for, he had not questioned. Hopefully, it stayed like that forever. For once, she had her freedom regarding her own life. He was doing things to let her be free. He wasn’t controlling her (as much) anymore. She wasn’t an extension of his political figure anymore. She was Stephanie Lauter, and he was The Mayor. Things were gonna be fine.
That morning, when she had asked him to drive her to school because her car was being serviced, she half expected for him to turn around, to tell her that actually, no, Miss Tessburger could do it like she always had done. Instead, he had told her to meet her downstairs at the hour on the dot, not to be a minute late. When she’d pushed the boundary even further by asking if they could pick up Peter Spankoffski to prevent him from being left behind by the asshole bus driver again, she had expected him to say no. Instead, he had asked for Peter’s address, and soon, they were heading to his apartment complex.
Now, the two of them sat in the backseat of Solomon Lauter’s stretch Fleetwood Cadillac limousine, and she still couldn’t quite comprehend what her life actually was.
She was broken from her reminiscing thoughts, though, when Solomon asked her a particularly sharp question. “I hear that one of your…friends…Ruth, is it?”
“…depends on the context.”
“…I hear that Ruth Fleming is performing in a talent show tonight. I’ve been told she’s performing a song that you wrote, Stephanie.”
Pete turned to face her. “…you write songs?!”
“N-“ She could feel herself blushing. “Not often, but she asked, so I delivered!”
“Are you going to be in attendance for this Christmas show this evening? Have you bought a ticket, or is that something I must prepare for tonight?”
Suddenly, Steph’s blush turned from something regarding her stupid crush on the geek next to her to that of embarrassment. “I’m not going to some shitty Christmas show! Not even to support Ruth!”
Pete nodded. “I mean, I love her, but I don’t think I’m even gonna go either…I’ve got work.”
Steph tutted. “Pete, we both have work tonight.”
“Oh. Yeah…I forgot about that.”
Solomon looked at her in the car’s mirror. “You’ve been working an awful lot recently. I hardly see you.”
“You never complained about it before, so. I don’t know what changed.”
“I’m trying to keep you safe, Stephanie.”
“I am safe! I’m smarter than you think I am anyway! Pete, tell him!”
She gently nudged him. Not that she’d tell him upfront, but she wasn’t ignoring how easily he was blushing. But, Pete cleared his throat and nodded. “Uh, yeah, we’re working at the plant store tonight…she’s booked in more shifts cuz she’s got to pay off-“
“Spankowski, you better shut up now.” She told him sharply.
That was too much information for Solomon Lauter, though. “Pay off what?” He asked her.
“Nice going, Pete.”
“You told me to tell him!”
“What do you have to pay off, Stephanie?!”
“It’s nothing!” She insisted.
“By the way Mr Spankoffski was talking about it, it didn’t seem like nothing.”
“I-“ She looked at Pete, a glare in her eyes as he watched him drink his stupid Beanie’s hot chocolate. “It’s just a camera I bought for college-“
The car came to a screeching halt. The lid on Peter’s hot chocolate popped off, and the inside contents splashed all over the limousine floor. “…oh no,” he whispered. “I’m too poor to cause significant damage to a car this expensive, Mayor Lauter, I am so sorry-“
“…a film camera, per chance, would that be, Stephanie?”
She sighed, but could no longer find it within herself to look at him in either the mirror or in real life. “…yes, father.”
“What did I tell you about wanting to pursue a career in film?”
“…that it was…it was useless and a waste of time.”
“Because what are you going to apply to college for?”
Her silence spoke volumes.
He turned around, looking at her. “Politics, Stephanie. You will apply for politics in college. Won’t you?” When she remained not speaking, he loudened his voice. “Won’t you?!”
“I’m not going to college!” She said, trying to match his volume, which ended up being an unintentional shout. “I want to go to film school! I wanna make films!”
“Well, I suppose that is a good way to spend your year, isn’t it?! That, when you topple into debt because you can’t get your movies off the ground-“
“It’s not about that, though! I don’t want to be your fucking miniature! I hate politics!”
“It is within our blood!”
“What? The same blood that killed mom!?”
“Stephanie Allison Lauter!”
Not even her full name could scare her anymore. She reached down, grabbing her rucksack from the floor of her car. “Come on, Pete. I’ll buy you another hot chocolate from the cafeteria when we’re inside.”
“Oh, uh, we’re getting out, okay uh…” Pete looked to Steph’s father. “Thank you for the ride, Mayor Lauter. I’m sorry for spilling my drink and-thank you again-“
Solomon ignored Peter, his eyes still firm on his daughter. “Do you really think your mother would want you to become a filmmaker? Do you really believe that she would want you wasting your life away in such a stupid way?!”
“At least mom’s someone who’d encourage my dreams no matter how stupid!” Steph unclipped herself from the car. “Of course she’d want me to pursue my dreams! Hell, she’d be the one designing the costumes for my movies and you know it!”
The mayor shook his head, staring ahead once more. “If only she could see the girl you became. She may have loved you more than life when you were a child, but I am sure that her views on you would’ve changed-“
“Why?” Steph asked. “Because of the pregnancy rumour that Grace Chasity spread about me because I was hungover once?! Because I’m not your innocent little princess anymore?! Because I fucking grew up!?” She stared at her dad even if he was refusing to look at her back. “You’re just mad because I grew up to be exactly like mom and not exactly like you. Don’t pretend that’s not the exact reason you’ve only just started giving a shit about me again. You want me to be your perfect politician of a daughter. Well guess what, Solomon! I got mom’s creativity and your bitchiness so if you don’t mind, I can safely say that when I get into film school, I will be so glad to get away from you!” Exiting his stupid car, she slammed the door shut. “Come on, Pete. Let’s get you that drink before I go meet Alice for the before-school film committee meeting.”
“Oh, uh…okay.” He quickly ran after her, and together, they walked side by side into Hatchetfield High’s bleak hallways.
There was something strange, about the post Abstinence Camp feel. They’d both almost died, and they’d almost gotten stranded in the Witchwoods had it not been for Grace Chasity’s sudden power, yet despite being closer than they’d ever been before, there was still so much distance between them. Fuck, she at least thought what she was hinting at in the showers was enough to get them to the final destination. Apparently, for someone as smart as Peter Spankoffski, asking to have actual sex with him wasn’t a big enough of a clue. There they were, wandering Hatchetfield High’s lonely hallways, with a tense distance between them.
“…you okay?” Peter asked her as they walked, having to look up at her to do so.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, brushing her bangs from her eyes. They were slightly too long by now – she was trying to grow them out and occasionally, they’d fall out of her beanie, falling into her eyes.
“…it was unfair of your father to say that shit about you. Y’know, uh, losing your mom and all?” He kicked a ball of paper out of his way. It rolled, hitting the wall, then landed directly back in his path. He sighed.
She smiled at his dorkish behaviour. “It’s…it’s normal for me at this point.”
“And? You still lost your mom, Steph. He shouldn’t have done it, ‘specially after everything we went through in the summer…he’s a dick.”
“You can say that again, can’t ya?”
“…he is a dick.”
She smiled, putting her hands in the pockets of her black coat. “You’re such a nerd Spankoffski.”
“It’s kinda my brand,” he said, gesturing to his attire. The white button up shirt, the red bowtie…actually, there was something only slightly different about his outfit. Most people wouldn’t bother noticing it.
She did, though. She took one of his suspenders in hand, pinging it, watching as he briefly winced. “Christmas colours? Feeling festive, Pete?”
“You just tenderised my titties, Steph.”
“Answer my question.” She grabbed both of his suspenders then, pulling him in close. “Feeling festive?”
He blushed deeply. “…only a little.”
“Cuz the Christmas coloured suspenders are telling me you are very excited.” Her eyes ran up and down his body. She let him go. “Your suspenders, and whatever’s going on in your pants.”
“Huh?” Pete looked down, blushing harder. “Fuck! I, uh-“ He laughed nervously, turning around so his front was facing the wall. “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick so I probably won’t see you until break but…don’t tell anyone?”
“Don’t worry. I thought we agreed that whatever happens in the bathroom stays in the bathroom?” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, loading up his contact.
“Oh uh, yeah…I guess we did decide that. Uh, I hope you find Alice and Richie and I hope things go well and stuff and-“
“I’ll send you money for a hot chocolate.”
He stopped, awkwardly plastered against the wall. “Steph, you don’t have to-“
“See, I know you’d say that. Hey, any good at catching?”
“Depends-“
She threw a milky way at him. “Watch that blood sugar, Peter! You’re gonna be exhausted after your bathroom trip!”
“Heh, maybe-“
“And check your phone! I sent you something that’ll help you out!”
He looked back at her, and she could’ve sworn his pupils turned to hearts. “…oh, Lord…help me.”
“I didn’t realise your hand was called Lord?”
She didn’t wait for him to reply to her comeback. She was already walking off, a semi-nude photo of hers that she’d taken on a day she was feeling particularly attractive sitting in her and Pete’s text messages.
Through the halls she walked, hoping to find the leader of the media committee, who was helping out with the Christmas show that evening. Luckily, Steph didn’t have too long to wait for, as she turned the corner, she saw Alice standing outside her media classroom.
Alice Woodward was, by far, the coolest lesbian Steph had ever met. She bleached her hair in the summer the year before to spite her dad, but she’d liked it so much, it had remained bleached blonde even a year later. Steph could also say that Alice was able to pull off any outfit, including the ones that shouldn’t work, which brought them to the current moment. Alice was wearing her I Survived The Eye Drop And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt shirt, which was purple with a giant yellow eye in the centre. Half of it was tucked into her black skirt, which remained being held up by a black belt with a gold buckle, making the shirt only read I Survived The Eye Drop. Despite it being December, Alice was wearing white frilly tights and small black boots. Her hair was down, like it usually was, and she was on the phone, fiddling with the sleeve of her black coat.
As Steph got closer, the down expression on Alice’s face became more apparent. For a usually cheery girl, there was only one person who could make Alice so low, and that was none other than her own girlfriend.
“You see, Deb, I-I thought that, cuz I’m not in Clivesdale for Christmas, that maybe you’d wanna spend Christmas with me and my dad this year and…we could spend it as a couple for once? Like, properly and…no, no.” She laughed sadly. “No, Deb, it’s fine. You’ve got art commissions and stuff, I get you’re busy and…no, I get it. It’s fine. It’s-Deb, I said it’s fine! Look, I-I’m telling you it’s fine!” There was a brief pause before Alice scrunched her nose up. “Right, baby, I love you and I’m hanging up because I’ve gotta lead this media presentation and-there’s always next year! I’m not mad! Look, just-babe, I’m hanging up. I’ll see you soon, I love you, bye.”
Alice hung up, so Steph, now close enough, decided to speak her reasons. “You okay?”
She shrugged. “Eh, just…Deb’s busy again and…how are you?”
“Dad told me that me wanting to go into film is bullshit, but I did get my situationship hard.”
“…nice.” Alice eventually settled on. “Sorry, I really am too gay for your heteronormative relationships.”
“You’re fine.” Steph pat her back. “So, uh, ready to go on inside?”
“I sure am!” Alice looked down the hallway, watching as a silver haired man all but sauntered towards them, pointing out all the imperfections within the school’s corridor. “Shit, uh, Richie’s already inside. I’ll be there in two seconds, but save yourself from him.”
“From who?”
“The new director for the Christmas concert. Miss Mulberry got sick with the flu so they’ve had to pull him in last minute and let me tell you, he’s a real hard-ass.” Alice grabbed Steph’s shoulders. “Save yourself, Stephanie.”
She didn’t need to be told twice.
Remaining in the hallway, blocking the door, Alice put on her friendliest smile. “Good morning, Mr Hidgens-“
“I do not want to hear another word from you, Miss Woodward. Your vampire play was chosen over my masterpiece of a musical.” The professor turned to face her. “I will forever hate you.”
Her smile turned thin lipped. “I cannot wait until you die.”
He eyed her up and down. “The same goes for you…my show was better.”
“Then why was mine chosen?”
“…I hope you realised that you have ruined my life eternally. Good riddance, Miss Woodward.”
Henry Hidgens continued sauntering down the hallways, and as Alice turned around, she sighed. “I mean it, Hidge. I can’t wait ‘til you’re dead. Then maybe that mansion can go to the people who need it, like that homeless guy downtown…poor guy.”
With that, Alice Woodward stepped in to great her team of media experts, offering them a bright smile. “Right! Happy Holidays, thank you for welcoming me back to Hatchetfield High, and before we all die of boredom or the flu, how about we get this show on the road?!”