Chapter Text
Angela, in her many moody musings, had occasionally given thought to how she’d die, but as the clock struck midnight, a vision of her own demise flashed before her eyes when her cell phone began to buzz. Loudly.
She lunged desperately for the phone on her bed, because even thought she was 18 and definitely old enough to decide on her own bedtime, her parents would be pissed if she woke them up. The walls were thin and her mom was a light sleeper- a recipe for disaster. Glancing at the offending device, she discovered it was a text from her cousin, Spencer.
Spence: lol r u taking summer skool this year
Angela: yea how did u kno?
Spence: my mom told me. did haas tell u the news yet??
Angela: no… wut news?
Spence: ROFL i’m not telling. funnier if u find out at skool
Angela: >:( ur so lame
Spence: yea but im funny 0:-)
Angela laughed at the angel emoticon and started typing a response before deciding that not replying would get under his skin even more. Two could play at that game. She flipped the phone closed and jammed it under her pillow to muffle the buzz, then went back to labeling and doodling on the CDs her friend had burned for her. Fuck the system, no way she was paying for it when she could have her friend make them for her. Also, she only got enough allowance to get one new CD a month, so Limewire and Josh’s PC setup were pretty much her best friends.
Her phone lay forgotten for a peaceful fifteen minutes until “Somebody Told Me” by The Killers started blaring from her bed. Startled and suddenly reminded of the conversation she had been having earlier, she jumped for it again.
“Oh my god, Spence! It’s late as fuck, my parents are sleeping!” Angela hissed quietly, cradling the phone against her ear, prepared to give him the reaming out of a lifetime.
“Well, don’t ignore my texts then! I sent you, like, a million!” came the equally hushed voice of her slightly older cousin.
“Dude, chill! I was busy!” she retorted, too embarrassed to admit she had gotten absorbed in her doodles and completely forgotten their conversation. Spencer sighed, and she could sense that he knew what had happened without her having to say anything. Fucking cousins. It was almost impossible to keep anything from him considering he had known her for her entire life. She had known him for almost his entire life, minus a few months. Why was he so much better at reading her? She huffed and heard him chuckle quietly on the other side of the phone.
“Okay, what’s so important you had to send me, like, a million texts and call me even though you said it was more fun not to tell me?”
“Chillax! It’s fun news! You know Superintendent Haas?” Spencer began conspiratorially. Angela flopped onto her bed, chewing her gum with well practiced irreverence. Of course she knew Superintendent Haas- everybody knew him. He started at their school district this year and wouldn’t stop blabbing about it. He’d held at least 3 assemblies at each school in the district to introduce himself to students and talk about “school spirit” . It was like the guy didn’t have any other work besides talking to students about respecting their peers or whatever. Angela wasn’t exactly sure what the last assembly had been about, since she’d snuck out to smoke in the parking lot with Keith.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. What’s the news???” she asked impatiently, chomping down hard and cracking her gum.
“Dude, Downtown and Hollywood are getting combined for summer school!”
“So what? I don’t know anyone from Downtown High but you, dork.”
“I failed bio and the second half of lit this year! We’re gonna be in class together! For six whole weeks!” Angela’s heart leapt at that. It was super lame, but Spencer was basically her best friend, no matter how much she made fun of him. Making fun of each other was basically a requirement for cousins, anyway. She didn’t have many friends at school, so getting to hang with Spencer during the total drag of summer school was kind of the best news ever.
“Dude, you’re fucking kidding!” she squealed loudly before clamping a hand over her mouth. “You’re fucking kidding!” she whisper-repeated urgently.
“Dawg, I’m so serious. Bummer school might actually be kind of baller this year.” Spencer sounded just as excited as her. Angela knew he didn’t have many friends either, and cool people to hang with were pretty scarce during summer school. Everyone was hanging out and doing way cooler stuff without you for the whole summer break. It felt like people went to the mall, like, exclusively during the hours she was trapped in class.
“It’s gonna be so sick. Do you know who’s teaching?” Angela asked excitedly.
“Pretty sure the dude who normally teaches for Downtown got fired for being a perv, so I have no clue. Maybe they got someone else?”
“Ugggghhhhhh. If it’s not a teacher from Downtown I guess it’ll be Mrs. Lehan. I swear to god she’s been pregnant for, like, the whole year. But like. With the same baby.” Spencer laughed on the other end of the line, but she was only sort of kidding.
“Man, whoever it is, at least we’re in the same class.” Angela sat up as she finally had a realization.
“Right, but do you think it’s gonna be chill? Like, Hollywood and Downtown hate each other like crazy. It’s like, a blood feud or whatev.”
“When have we ever cared about that shit? We can hang in the back of the room if it’s that bad. I’m gonna bring my PSP every day anyway.” God, Spencer was so chill. It always made Angela, who secretly stressed over everything, feel better.
“So true, man. So true.” she replied. Suddenly, there was a loud shout from down the hall.
“ANGELA GIOVANN GIARATANNA. SLEEP. NOW. OR YOU’RE GROUNDED.” Angela yelped and clapped her phone shut without so much as a goodbye to Spencer, but that was normal for them. She changed into her PJs as quietly as possible and crawled into bed, but she could hardly sleep from the excitement. As a junior going on senior, this was her third year in summer school, and it was always kind of lonely and boring. At least this year, she’d get to hang with her favorite cousin. Plus, summer school was always full of burnouts. Only jocks and popular kids actually cared about the Hot Dog-Dairy Cow rivalry. It couldn’t be that crazy.
— 3 weeks later —
Arasha could not believe she had to spend her summer making up her biology credit. She was going to fly to Cabo or wherever the hell her last guidance counselor had retired to and freaking strangle him. She wouldn’t be caught dead here with all of these burnouts when she could be studying for the SAT or working cheer routines for the next year. She’s the freaking cheer captain now, she needed to get sets ready before they actually started practice. But no, Mr. Grub had promised her THREE YEARS AGO that an advanced credit from middle school would count for her high school bio credit. Then the freak had gone and had a nervous breakdown and retired by throwing all of his paperwork into the Hollywood High School pool without any warning and then peacing out to somewhere in the Carribean; therefore, completely fucking up Arasha’s meticulously planned high school career, since any proof of her stupid middle school advanced credit had drowned in the over-chlorinated pool, along with her hopes, dreams, and an sliver of respect she had for Mr. Grub.
She wouldn’t have known anyone in the class, especially since it was combined with the Downtown Dairy Cows, which ugh- as if being in summer school wasn’t bad enough, she had to put up with the complete dumpster fire that was their rival school! Her sole ray of sunshine was her childhood best friend Trevor being kind of a slacker and a total sweetheart, since he could have passed biology with barely a C, except he chose not to answer a single question on the final after Arasha had a meltdown to rival Mr. Grub in the passenger seat of Trev’s car when she got the terrible news from the new guidance counselor.
She took stock of the social scene as soon as she stepped through the door of the classroom. Ugh. The outlook was grim. She immediately recognized all of the Hollywood students. Woe of woes, she and Trevor were the only ones who were even vaguely adjacent to popularity, though that was to be expected for summer school. She spotted Keith and Noah in the corner, bickering and totally deaf to the world around them, as usual. Near them was a guy with the most aggressively combed hair she’d ever seen, a sweater vest at least a decade out of fashion, and a huge novel that looked unspeakably boring. She didn’t recognize him. A Dairy Cow, perhaps? That thought left her mind as she zeroed in on the number one problem in the room. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of Angela Giarratana, who was easily one of her least favorite classmates. She was sitting with a guy Arasha didn’t recognize, which meant he must be a Dairy Cow. Arasha immediately dismissed him, considering his entire vibe just screamed ‘loser’.
After a moment’s analysis, she concluded that Trevor was the only person currently in this room that was worth her time. She primly set her bag down and sat in a front row desk. Trevor predictably took the seat just behind her- the perfect place for the annoyingly tall guy to look over her shoulder to copy her work. Arasha unpacked her supplies with a vengeance. This summer was going to suck. She was sure that dumb slut [AN: adding this one and only period-typical authors note to say that I guess I’m including some period typical misogyny. oops] Brianna was developing cheer routines and plotting to take the captaincy from her at this very moment, and Arasha was trapped in a classroom with total burnouts and losers, retaking a class she should already have a credit for.
“What the hell are you doing here, Lalani?” Angela’s abrasive jeer snapped her from her brooding.
“Pleasure to see you as always, Angela.” Arasha replied primly, scrunching her face with disdain as she looked the goth girl up and down. The brief examination made Arasha unreasonably mad at the wasted potential. Angela was kind of pretty behind the heavy eyeliner and dark persona. Arasha brushed the unwelcome thought away and turned her eyes to Angela’s companion, who was currently engrossed in a PSP. “Who’s your boyfriend?”
The mystery boy turned bright red and looked up at her with wide eyes. Angela did an Oscar-worthy retch and mimed shoving a finger down her throat for added effect.
“Gag. He’s my cousin, you fucking perv.”
“I guess weirdo is genetic.” Arasha rolled her eyes just as dramatically and turned back towards the front of the room, already bored by this conversation. Trev clearly had different ideas.
“Whatcha playin, bro?” he asked, leaning over to try and catch a glimpse of the PSP. Mystery Geek looked like a deer in headlights as he stuttered out a response that sounded like total violent gibberish to Arasha, but apparently made sense in boy-speak.
“Absolutely beast, man. I only hit level 30 before I dropped my PSP in the toilet last month. Total bummer.” Trevor offered up a fist bump that the Geek returned after a slight hesitation.
“That’s Arasha Lalani and Trevor Evarts,” Angela hid her mouth behind her hand but used an exaggeratedly loud, sarcastic stage whisper, “She’s Hollywood’s airhead cheer captain, and he’s the prep that follows her around like an oversized Great Dane puppy.”
Arasha gritted her teeth and refused to turn around, knowing that Angela just wanted to get a rise out of her. She was literally on track to be valedictorian, not even close to being an airhead. Nothing Gothatana said would change that.
“Hah, guilty as charged.” Trevor said affably.
“Trev!” Arasha screeched and whipped around and glared at him. “What the hell! I am not an airhead!”
“What? Nonononono!!! I meant that, like, I just follow you around! I didn’t mean-” Trevor started to rapidly backtrack when faced with her ire. Angela snickered with glee as Trevor frantically squirmed and apologized.
“Ugh, whatever,” Arasha huffed, turning back to face the front. She decided she would only be mad at him until the end of this class. Angela was right about one thing- he did resemble a kicked Great Dane puppy when she was mad at him. Sort of dopey and gawky, like he hadn’t grown into his limbs yet, with wide, guilty puppy dog eyes. It took a huge effort to not giggle at the mental image.
Oh. Em. Gee. She did not just find Angela Giarratana, of all people, actually funny. The loser-fumes in this room must be getting to her head.
“You see what I have to deal with every day, Spence?” Angela sighed dramatically, snapping her gum like it had personally offended her. Thank god she immediately reminded me how totally irritating she is, thought Arasha. The world as she knew it would crumble to bits the day she actually laughed at something Angela Giarratana said.
“Did you know,” said a guy who had slunk in during all the commotion and was now slouched in the desk next to Spencer, “That cheetahs are so high strung that they give them service dogs to keep them from freaking out? Usually they’re labs, though, not Great Danes.”
Arasha’s head snapped around like she was spotting a turn in a cheer routine. She fixed the newcomer with her iciest glare. No wonder she hadn’t noticed him come in. He was a slouchy Super³ Senior with a bowl cut, outfitted in a nondescript t-shirt and basketball shorts.
“Are you implying,” she said in a whip sharp tone, “that I’m high strung?”
“Um. No, not at all. Just sort of a fun fact.” He said, his hands raised non-threateningly above his head like he was actually staring down a carnivorous big cat of the savannah. His basketball - literally the smoothest, most faded, worn down piece of sports equipment she had ever seen - spun slowly in place on his desk as Arasha held her glare and he looked anywhere but her eyes. The tension was broken by another snicker from Angela. Arasha redirected the look at her, but Angela was unaffected. Sensing that he was no longer the primary prey, Super³ Senior scrambled into the desk behind Geek Cousin to place himself further out of the predator’s line of sight. Satisfied that the Super³ Senior was suitably cowed (hah!) by her, Arasha turned back to setting up her own things.
A few more people trickled in as the beginning of class crept nearer. A guy with bleach blond hair, shades, and a leather jacket came in and took a seat in the back. He immediately pulled out a laptop and began furiously typing away. Then there was a pink clad set of girls. Arasha’s eye was immediately drawn to the more eclectic of the two. Pink tie-dye shirt, a bunch of butterfly hair clips in her short blonde hair, a bedazzled camcorder in one hand and a notebook covered in doodles in the other. Plus like, eight colorful bracelets on each wrist and three choker necklaces around her neck. She had a skip in her step that radiated optimism. Totally overboard in every sense of the word, Arasha concluded. The human embodiment of cheerfulness had arrived, apparently.
The other girl was the total opposite despite the matching color scheme. She wore all pink with a cute newsboy cap and big sunglasses. She was typing away on a hot pink flip phone and navigated the room perfectly without even looking up. Total Sharpay vibes, which Arasha could definitely appreciate. After a moment of analysis, Arasha decided that she looked popular… of course the only person of her and Trevor’s social status in this class was a Dairy Cow. Arasha made a mental note to keep a close eye on her. Perhaps she could extend an olive branch and get some tolerable company for the remainder of the summer.
Considering that class started in less than a minute, Arasha assumed that this was the entirety of their cohort for the summer. She checked her watch, counting down the seconds and wondering where their teacher was.
“Whaddup, peeps!” The overwhelming stench of Axe body spray enveloped the classroom when a lanky boy with copper-tan skin and curly brown hair burst through the door. Arasha clocked the blue and grey Downtown High letterman jacket and knew with a sinking feeling that this class had just gotten ten times more miserable for her. She watched his expression turn sour as he saw her in the front row.
“Heyyy!” she chirped, saccharine and sarcastic. For a moment, Arasha understood why Angela took so much pleasure in being a heinous bitch. His visible recoil at the sound of her voice filled her with a sick sense of satisfaction.
Just Arasha’s luck. It was Chanse McCrary, Downtown High’s star running back, ladies-man, and worst of all- her ex-boyfriend.