Chapter Text
It had been another of those days. Illi was sitting in the principal's office with two scraped knees and the sticky residue from a banana peel clinging to her neck.
At least that was the only thing that had been thrown at her this time.
Mr Bumbleworth stared disapprovingly down through the glasses perched at the end of his nose. “This is the third time this week you have been involved in some sort of… incident.”
“But Sir, it wasn't my fault! He threw the-”
“Enough excuses, Illi. You've been here for three weeks, and I am somehow unable to go two days without seeing you on the other side of this desk.”
“Sir! You're not listening to me, I didn't-”
Her sentence was cut off abruptly by a fist being brought down onto hard wood. “That's it! If I see you in this room once more, your time at this school is over! Do I make myself clear?”
She dropped her gaze to the floor and, in a voice dripping with bitterness, said, “Yes, Sir. ”
On her way out of the office, Illi was stopped by a hand on her forearm, and a way-too-enthusiastic voice babbling, “Three times in one week? Even I've never been called in there that much!”
“Fuck off,” was all Illi had to say to this heavily-tattooed, impish-looking motherfucker.
“Hey, no, look, I'm sorry about the banana peel. It was an accident! You were just sitting real close to that bin, and that dick Bob shoved into me, so I just… missed.”
Illi spun around to face him, yanking her arm out of his grasp. “I don't know if you think I'm fucking stupid or something, but I know what you self-centred misogynistic motherfuckers are like. And trust me, I know a targeted food-throw when I’m on the receiving end of one.”
“Woah, I'm not- I'm not misogynistic. I mean, out of anyone - anyway. I'm sorry,” he said, eyes dropping to the ground sheepishly. Then, perking up almost instantly, “I'm Frank, by the way.”
“Fuck you.”
“Nice to meet you, Fuck You,” he said, his lip ring glinting in the dazzling sunlight, “Lovely name. So, you new in town?”
Illi's stern expression began to falter, and a small smirk began to play at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah…”
“That's cool! I've been here all my life, so I know all the best hangout spots, all the best places to grab a smoke without being caught, and,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “I've got dirt on basically everyone in this fuckin’ place.”
That grabbed Illi’s attention. She quirked an eyebrow before uttering a skeptical, “Really?”
“Yup,” Frank replied with what might have been the single most annoying self-assured expression ever worn by anyone on the planet.
“Okay, what about them, then?” Illi asked, gesturing towards a group of younger teens, who had formed a circle and were shouting at something on the ground.
“Ugh, they're the worst ,” Frank began. “You know, they once started a fire in the middle of the fucking forest , as if they expected trees to just… stop being flammable, or some shit.”
“Huh,” Illi responded, moderately impressed. “Alright, tell me about those boys.”
Their conversation continued much like this as they walked apparently aimlessly away from Mr Bumbleworth’s office, occasionally ducking to avoid a rogue stone or shoe flying through the air towards them at high speeds. After a couple of minutes, Illi realised Frank had led them to one of his aforementioned ‘hangout spots’, which was currently solely occupied by a boy in immaculate uniform with a slightly wild afro.
“What took you so long? And who’s this?” he asked in a voice that seemed way too high for him, cocking his head to one side.
“Had to plead my case with Bumble, and made a new friend on the way,” Frank responded casually.
Illi opened her mouth to retort with, “I am not your friend,” but before any sound could leave her lips, the weird kid who associated himself with Frank had leapt to his feet, and was aggressively shaking her hand, saying, “Oh, a new friend? That's great! I'm Ray. It's nice to meet you!”
“...Illi,” she mumbled back, slightly dazed.
“What was that?” Frank questioned, leaning in pointedly.
Rolling her eyes, Illi repeated herself emphatically.
“Illi…” Frank said, as if feeling it out in his mouth. “Cool name. So, now that's out of the way, I need to tell you guys what I overheard Trevor saying earlier…”
So. Illi has… friends? Three weeks in the fucking trenches trying to find somewhere, anywhere, to hide from the bullies, and all it took was having a banana peel lobbed at her head? The universe truly is a sadistic fucker, she thought to herself.
~
Illi hadn’t always been so lonely. Back in her old town, she’d been part of a very tight-knit friend group. That’s what happens when you’re one of five closeted trans people within a fifty-mile radius. However, when her alcoholic dad died in a car crash and she was finally able to transition, there was nothing keeping her in the closet. It wasn’t long before the bullying from the feral majority of her school community and the resentment bubbling amongst her own friends left her feeling very unwelcome in that place.
Once her younger brother Mikey had finished middle school, there was nothing keeping them in town, and they moved. Their mother changed her surname back to McMillin and did the same for her two kids; they’d mutually agreed to ditch any connection to the Way family name now they were finally free from Mr Way’s explosive temper, controlling attitude and cold demands, not to mention his sense of ownership over the family.
Over the years, Illi had learned how to fight. Not just the physical fistfight technique she’d been employing ever since she moved to New Jersey, but to fight in secrets, using them as both a defence strategy, and as a weapon. Revenge was her speciality, and she always knew just how long to wait before exacting it. It wasn’t a coincidence that the sports department at her old school went up in flames the day before she left LA, or that the series of screenshots that broke her old friend group apart was sent just before she loaded the last bag into the car.
Illi may have been the master of vengeance, but she still preferred not to use this skill where it could be avoided. After all, sometimes it can be nice to have allies.
It often makes the takedown of bigots all the more spectacular.