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More than a year ago, when your mom told you about the scholarship offer to that private catholic high school and the “amazing opportunity” gifted to you, you were less than thrilled. Leaving all your friends and family to go to a religious boarding school? Not your idea of a good time.
But everyone was so happy for you, talking about all the opportunities that it would give you in the future, and you didn’t have the heart to protest against it. So, next September, you were shipped to your new school.
And it was even worse than expected.
First, the school's expectations had nothing to do with what you were used to. You never had to work much before, easily staying on top of your grades without any effort. But there? You had to work, trying to please the incredibly strict teachers and bearing all the expectations from your family. It was hard to transition from genius above your grade to less-than-average student.
Second problem, Catholics girls were fucking nuts.
Sure, you expected some ignorance and stupidity. But you quickly discovered that trapping a bunch of ignorant rich girls in a highly competitive and over-controlling environment was the key to breeding psychopaths.
You just entered a pool of piranhas, and you were a prime bait. As an ugly, geeky, poor, Korean girl who was too abrasive for her own good, it was a recipe for disaster.
After a month, you started considering calling your mom to get back home. It would be a humiliating process to go through, but the place was a nightmare. They discovered how good you were at math, and your stuff started to go missing in an attempt to make you incapable of doing your homework. They realized you weren’t straight, and you got kicked in a solo room after being accused of sexually harassing your roommate.
Three more years of that? You couldn’t do it. Even with the promise of great scholarships and Ivy League assured entries.
But in those dark days, someone changed everything.
A girl named Eridan Ampora.
The first time you ever saw her, you didn’t catch her name. Mostly because the people who were with you at the time only called her that crazy bitch. You didn’t know why at the time, and didn’t bother to ask. You were too busy being grateful that even as bad as the school was, you still had some eye candy to distract you.
You couldn’t help but watch her, your attention drawn to her when she came into a room. There was something magnetic about Eridan, an air of elegance tied with harshness. It was in the way she carried herself, every detail of her appearance impeccable, and the confidence she had, walking around like she owned the damn place.
One day, as you were going up the staircase, you caught her watching you from above. Icy gaze pining you in your place as she frowned and walked away. That was the first time you truly felt what it was like to be a cockroach.
It was easy to think of her as another one of the mean girls of this school. A more beautiful one, sure, but that’s it. You didn’t get why everyone else was avoiding her like the plague.
Two weeks later, you finally got it.
While hiding in a corner of the cafeteria, trying to make everyone forget you’re sharing the same space as them, you saw Eridan’s arrival. Determined, she walked through the room, pigtails bouncing in the angry rhythm of her steps.
She finally stopped, standing in front of one of the senior girls that you vaguely recognize as a massive bitch who kept whispering slurs when she got in your vicinity.
“Oh, there you are,” Eridan said, with a too-wide smile.
There was a silence, the senior lifting a brow before opening the mouth to respond, but she never got the chance as Eridan threw herself at her.
You don’t know what happened that day, barely listening to the insults they hurled at each other, too stunned at the sight of that pretty girl beating the shit out of someone. Gone was the girl who complained to the PE teacher that holding a basketball could chip her nails, too busy trying to claw out the eyes of that senior.
After that incident, you watched with a new understanding how the sea of your classmates split to let her pass in the hallway, or the way every seat around her was systematically empty. A logical reaction to that display of violence, who might have been one of many.
But sometimes, logical was wrong.
Or at least, it wasn’t useful, you thought with a plan forming in your head.
All you wanted was to have people leave you alone, and getting in a fight yourself was out of the question as you didn’t have insanely rich parents able to pay the school to forget about your transgressions. But you could try to befriend someone who could fight on your behalf. Or, at least, let people think that.
You thought for a while, trying to come up with a way to become friendly to Eridan without risks of being her next victim, but in the end, you decided to improvise. Hell, maybe the sight of you getting beaten up would make them pity you enough to leave you alone.
The occasion you were looking for arrived in the shape of a group assignment in math.
Every time, Eridan would end up alone in those, as the number of people in the class was uneven, so you had no problem sitting down next to her when the teacher asked you to partner up.
You remember the incongruous look she gave you, her glittery violet pen stopping on writing the assignment that she had instantly started, not expecting anyone to work with her. Again, you felt like dirt under her shoes when she tilted her head, assessing you.
“You’re the math genius, right ?”
“... I guess ?”
“You better not be disappointin’,” she said, sliding the assignment to you.
At first, you assumed you were getting advantage of, which you were fine with since that what you were doing too. So you didn’t talk, easily scribbling down the expected answers because, even as high as the level was, math was still a breeze of fresh air. Everything might have gone to shit, but numbers and equations would never betray you.
With a satisfied smile, you slid the paper back to her and watched her examine it. You were confident in the perfection of your work, so you were confused to see her frown and point at it with a serious expression :
“Explain this to me.”
By the end of the hour, you had become Eridan’s unofficial tutor.
Your friendship started with her sitting next to you in every math class, asking you to explain to her the subject of today’s lesson. Which had you a little stunned because you knew she was one of the top students in your grades. It took a little time to finally understand that these discussions were less about learning math than an excuse to talk to you.
Days passed, and slowly, you got over the initial fear of getting your ass kicked, growing more and more comfortable in your interactions with her.
Surprisingly, you found it very easy to get along with Eridan.
You’re not sure exactly how, but your dynamic came naturally, banters and insults with a little more bite than what most people would feel comfortable with, and yet, it was an unlikely match but a good one nonetheless.
Like you, she was a heinous bitch, angry at the world, and being trapped in this place.
But there was so much more about her.
You learned that Eridan was studious to a fault, fine with sacrificing a night of sleep to perfect a homework. She was a history nerd, weirdly passionate about wars and whoever Napoleon was. Whenever you could, she would stay in the library, sitting in the biography section and trying to read the entire collection.
In those moments, she would be quiet and relaxed, shedding away her haughty persona. You couldn’t help but feel privileged to be able to witness her like that, like a glimpse into her true self, hiding behind all those walls she had built. And you couldn’t help but try to see more of her.
With time, Eridan slowly let you in.
At first, it was with a discussion, late at night, as you were exploring the school well after curfew, who let you know about her shitty over-controlling parents. Then, a lazy Sunday spent in your room, an admission of never having a real friend until you. She told you all about her struggles, and you responded in kind, telling her all about Mituna’s health problems, the loneliness away from everyone you knew, the unavoidable doom you sometimes felt, …
Before you knew it, in between nights of sneaking around the library to hack computers to watch movies and days spent hiding from anyone else, Eridan had become one of your best friends.
On your bad days, you wonder how sincere this friendship is. After all, you are the only access to the outside world for Eridan, and with how different you both are, you’re not sure if she would choose you if there were any other possibilities.
It’s hard not to question it, when she drops the most awful take known to man, and you end up viciously insulting each other. You’re both good at finding your respective weakness and striking in it with no mercy, too blinded by anger and the original subject of the conversation long forgotten. It’s always the same thing, she accuses you of being condescending, and you try to let her understand how hard it is for you to fight her ignorance on a daily basis.
In those times, you bitterly remember that Eridan is just another white, straight, privileged girl, that there is no instant cure for stupidity and conservativeness, and that you might never see eyes to eyes with her on those kinds of subjects.
You brood after that, pondering on what is more important, your friendship or your principles. But without fail, after a day or two, Eridan comes to find you all contrite and regretful. She doesn’t even apologize most of the time, talking to you in a low and careful voice, like she is afraid of you blowing up.
“... you’re not mad at me anymore, right ?”, she would ask, her head propped up against your shoulder. And every time, you look at her, trying to muster back all your anger and frustrations, but promptly forget about it, when she gives you her pathetic sadden look, batting her long eyelashes and nervously biting on her lower lip.
“... we’re fine,” you mumble, leaning into her and not thinking too hard about why the smile blossoming on her face twists your insides in knots.
The twisty feeling has been happening more and more lately, but you were choosing to shove it away every time he came. The brush of a knee under a table, a sight of freckled skin in the locker room or an accidental innuendo, all of these had you desperate. She just had to be stupidly attractive, didn’t she?
Anyway, after more than a year knowing each other, that’s where you are: no one fucks with you at school anymore since you got your personal crazy bitch at your side, but you are very much falling for the crazy bitch in question. Life is tough.
But tonight, you are not thinking about school or unnecessary feelings, too busy going on an adventure: Eridan’s first Halloween.
Once again, another thing that she was forbidden to do growing up, and that you took as a personal mission to make her experience. Like her movie culture, which had been greatly improved, or anime, which were gathering mixed reviews from her.
So, in an attempt to make her live the Halloween realness, and make you feel less homesick, you showed her the true spirits of the holiday with last-minute costumes. After a trip around town, you had settled on stealing a makeup palette and with some white paint to make you even paler, some black around the eyes and on your lips, combined with some of your more ripped clothing you made a decent-looking zombie.
As for Eridan, she had you visiting all the stores in the goddamn town to find the perfect outfit for her. She didn’t seem to like your idea of throwing some toilets papers to make a very easy mummy, so instead she was now parading around as a bloody bride, with some tastefully placed fake blood and a shredded wedding dress.
A very short dress.
Well, not that short, but spending time around nuns started influencing you. Look at you, about to faint from the sight of ankles. And knees. And tights. Fuck.
It’s a long night of trick or treating, trying your best to act like a normal human being capable of not looking at her legs every time Eridan takes a step. Thankfully, your friend is dumb and clueless on all things pertaining to same-sex attraction, or else she would have noticed your internal torment over her a long time ago.
Hours later, you end up with a pretty empty bag with Eridan pouting and frowning, pointing at kids passing by :
“Look at this, w-why do they got full bags, and I got nothin’!” she screams, her stutter going back full force with her frustration.
“I don’t know ED. People are nicer to cute kids, it’s not that deep.”
“What the fuck! I look very fucking cute, adorable even,” she says, then starts to point at a child, “This one is fucking ugly, and his bag is full! This is so unfair!”
At that point, you had to run away before Eridan could get into a screaming match with a bunch of angry soccer moms who started to have enough of the swear words and aggressive attitude around their children. And that’s how you ended up hiding in a pirate ship structure in an empty playground.
Shoulders to shoulders, you were eating your candies, talking about this and that. You were pretty happy with this day, insulting kids aside, you thought it had gone pretty well. Eridan was excitedly chatting about everything that you saw, pressing against you in an attempt to get some warmth. It was a good evening.
“... and this couple who were sittin’ on the bench outside the store? Ugh, it was disgustin’ to see them make out in public, don’t they have any sense of shame?”
“Yeah, poor girl.” Seeing Eridan’s confused expression, you add, “like take a hint, there is such a thing as too much tongue, dude.”
“What… do you mean by that?”
“I mean, it looked like a terrible kiss that girl wanted to run away from.”
There is a moment of silence, where you see turning gears in Eridan’s head before she starts screeching:
“Kisses can be terrible?!”
You can’t help the incredulous laugh getting out of you, who has her face reddening.
“Don’t laugh!”
“ED did you- what-” you kept getting interrupted by your laughter, “of course, it can suck!”
“But I thought- I mean, everyone makes such a big deal about it, I thought it was nice!”
You shake your head, whipping off the tears of laughter gathering at the corner of your eyes. Oh, sweet, innocent, clueless Eridan, you could always count on her to say the dumbest shit.
“Kissing is pretty nice, but it’s like everything else, you know. You need to practice. No one is born with the inerrant knowledge of how to make out pro-style.”
“... You did that too? That praticin’ stuff?
“Yeah. I sure did,” you say with a proud smile. Even if you weren’t having much success here, you still had pretty good games when you were back home. Hell, you almost got laid this summer, if it wasn’t for your mom coming home early that day.
Sitting in silence once more, you pop a few acid-tasting candies in your mouth, watching Eridan frown and taking in the information. It was something that often happened, for her to discover something you thought obvious, and have her whole world-view rearranged in some ways. Used to this, you waited for the inevitable dumbass follow-up questions she would come up with, after that.
“You need to kiss me.”
You choke.
“What.”
“Come on, I don’t want to be the only idiot who doesn’t know how to kiss! What if I meet the love of my life, and then we kiss, and I suck?”
She sits up, facing you with seriousness.
“You will kiss again, but better this time?”
“Wrong!” she shouts, jabbing her index in the middle of your chest, “he will make fun of me, leave me, and I will spend the rest of my life miserable because of you !”
Before you can ever point out that the love of her life sounds like a douchebag, your brain is being short-circuited by the sight of Eridan moving to straddle you. You try to remember if you might have fallen asleep at some point, the only logical exploitation to the unreal moment you are currently living.
Discreetly, you pinch your arm. Not a dream. Fuck. Okay.
“Come on, Sol’, think about it,” she says, like you thinking about it isn’t part of the problem, “friends are supposed to help each other out, right? And you’re my best friend, so that’s your job.”
“You don’t even like girls,” you counter, weakly.
“Of course I don’t,” she scoffs, “but that’s the great thing! Since I don’t like girls, it doesn’t really count! So, I can get some practice and still keep my first kiss for my future boyfriend.”
She seems so proud of herself and her genius idea, while you helplessly think of all the flaws in it. A part of you wants to get angry, telling her about how stupid and homophobic this kind of thinking is.
Another part of you has a hot girl on her lap and a full view of her overflowing top.
This whole thing has a ninety percent chance of ending up being a terrible idea, and you are the only one capable of stopping this because Eridan genuinely doesn’t know any better.
And yet.
“Fine. I guess.”
You’re going to hell.
Grabbing her waist, you help her settle against you. Her hands fall on your shoulders, resting there lightly. From this distance, you have a great view of the mapping of freckles imprinted on her cheeks. You watch her as she starts blushing even harder, looking at anywhere but you.
“Having second thoughts?” you ask, ready to let her go if she wants to.
Eridan shakes her head and takes a deep breath.
The next thing that happens is more of a headbutt than a kiss.
She presses her lips against yours, too harshly, your glasses knocking into each other's in a loud clink and her nose digging into yours hard enough to be painful. And almost immediately, she draws back, looking mortified.
You are a bitch, so you start laughing in her face. Her grip on you tightens as she grows upset, so you quickly decide on controlling yourself.
“Come on, let the experts handle it”, you joke, moving your eyebrows suggestively.
“Don’t start being too prideful, I’m not even sure that you are a good kisser either.” She rolls her eyes, but you see the hint of smile on her face.
“Guess you just have to find out then.”
First, you take off your glasses, then hers, absentmindedly noticing her shivering as your fingers brush against her cheeks in the process.
“I need you to close your eyes,” you talk low, whispering, like the dream-like state growing on you might shatter if you were too loud, “and just follow my lead, okay ?”
She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t need to, obediently closing her eyes and waiting for you to act. This has no right being as hot as it is.
You kiss her. You barely brush your lips together at first, letting her slowly get used to the sensation before pressing your mouth against hers. You’re careful and slow, not rushing as she tries to match your movements. She is clumsy, betraying her total inexperience, but you don’t mind, too giddy at the chance to have Eridan that close to you.
If you were a more reasonable person, you would leave it there. A footnote in the long list of weird stuff that happened between the two of you. But that wouldn’t account for a simple fact.
Eridan is so fucking into it.
She was a fast learner, and it shouldn’t surprise you that it applied to more physical stuff too. But here you were, growing bolder and bolder into the kiss, while Eridan matched you. It didn’t help you calm down, only wanting to see how far you could go with her following.
Perhaps a bit too confident, you lightly bite on her lower lip, winning a surprised moan out of her. In response, she digs her nails into your shoulders, bringing you even closer, and now you are the one moaning into the kiss.
It feels wrong, how right this is.
After a while, you finally draw back. Keeping your eyes closed, foreheads pressed against each other, you try to catch your breath. Your head is spinning, replaying what just happened in disbelief.
When you look at her once more, your traitorous heart skips a beat, seeing her. Lips redden, black lipstick and spit all over her mouth, she is the picture of debauchery, far away from the proper high school girl she pretends to be. But you like her like that, looking less like a wax statue and more like the wild girl she truly is.
Eridan opens her eyes, blinking at you like she just woke up. She leans over, arms tightening around your shoulders.
“...not too much tongue, I hope ?” she whispers in your ear, making you shiver.
“Nope.” You answer too quickly, making a popping sound on the p that resonates too loudly in the tiny space you’re in, “just the right amount.”
“Good.”
And after that, she is gone, walking out without a look back at you, leaving you here, alone with your thoughts and the flavor of strawberry candies on your lips.
After a few moments, you decide to peek through the opening and look at her, to gauge how fucked your friendship was from now on.
She stands, a few feet away, not looking back at you. You can’t exactly see her face, but you see her trembling hand, slowly moving up to let the pads of her fingers brush against her lips.
As she starts to turn to look back at you, you duck, hiding back into the structure, heart beating.
Somehow, you feel like this is only the start of your problems.