Chapter Text
As the bell to end passing period rang, Ms. Mulberry's shrill voice rang through the classroom, rudely interrupting the teens packed into her classroom. Once she was perfectly sure every student in her class could hear her clearly, she smiled, uttering a few of the words every teen who had better things to do then learn dreaded. “Pop Quiz! Everyone take your seats.”
“Shit..” Steph groaned as she lifted her head from her desk, and she wasn't the only one. All of the students around her flailed in disappointment and annoyance. Aside from the damn nerds, obviously. But all excitement the few of them felt foolishly comfortable sharing was overshined by the groans of the rest of the student body. Steph especially.
She'd stayed awake all night arguing about some stupid-ass dog from the pound. It had… been eaten, or eaten something, or barked in a way that sounded like a slur. Whatever it had been, she’d been really fucking passionate about it last night. Passionate enough that she obviously hadn't had any time to study. There was no way in hell she wasn’t going to fail. Dad was going to be pissed.
It wasn't like she cared what he thought, obviously she didn't, but that didn't matter if her Dad could still take her phone, or freeze her card or something. He'd been getting on her ass about test scores recently too. It was far-fetched, but she wouldn't have been surprised if
It came out her dad had called up the school and made them give her a test, just so he could make her feel stupid about it later. She glared at the paper in front of her, as if through sheer force of will she could magically make it about a topic she understood. Ms. Mulberry slumped into her chair, checking the clock before loudly ringing a bell she kept on her desk. “You may turn over your papers now!” Steph braced for impact, grabbing the frustrating slip of paper with her nails.
5 minutes later, her paper had just as much writing on it as it had when it was freshly printed. A.K.A, nothing. God, she was fucked. If she wanted to have any chance at all of escaping this without a lecture, she needed to cheat. But how? Ms. Mulberry was watching her like a nighthawk, peeking over the pages of her bullshit fantasy novel. Steph certainly wasn't a stranger to cheating, and her teacher knew it. If she was going to cheat, she'd have to be discreet.
She looked around, desperately trying to see if anyone smart was sitting around her. All of the nerds had a certain look to them, one that made them easy to pick out in a crowd. Steph scanned her desk neighbors for anyone who was already done with the quiz. It was a long shot, any teacher who knew her knew not to sit her next to anyone smart, but checking just in case wasn't going to make her paper any more blank.
Behind her was Grace Chastity, who obviously wouldn't be any fucking help. In front of her was Brenda, who probably knew as much as Steph did. Her parents just cared less because she was a cheerleader. To her right was some exchange student she barely knew, and who definitely wasn't worth the gamble. To her left… Steph smirked.
Next to her sat one of the biggest nerds in the school. The rich one, who had been wearing a bow tie and suspenders every day she'd ever seen him. What was his name? Something beginning with a P… Peter! She could see he was already like a third done with the quiz, and he had very conveniently not put his name down yet. It was like he wanted someone to cheat off him. Steph checked Ms. Mulberry, who at this point had actually gotten sucked into the writing of her trashy book. The coast was clear. She leaned over as far as she could, whispering at him. “Hey geek!”
He jumped, eyes darting around before landing on her, smirking at him. He blinked, straightening up and pointing at himself. “Me?” Steph nodded, smiling as convincingly as she could. “You're Peter, right?” He slowly nodded back. “Uh.. yeah?” Steph grinned. “Well, Pete, we've had classes together for a while, haven't we?”
“Since the first grade.” Pete intercepted. Steph gripped the side of her desk. “Exactly! And I realize I've never introduced myself. I'm-” “I know you. You're Stephenie Lauter, the mayor's daughter.” Steph’s smile tightened. People said that every time they met her, god was it annoying. “My friends call me Steph, though. We're friends, aren't we Pete?”
He blanched. “I- Are we?” Steph snickered, leaning closer. “It's not like I'd tell the whole school or anything… but there's an unspoken bond between us! We're classmates, comrades, nighthawks! We don't leave anyone behind.” Peter scoffed. “The bus driver left me behind this morning. What a fucking asshole.” Steph nodded, hyping him up. “Yeah! We succeed together, or we fail together! And I won't lie, I'm gonna fail this test, Pete. Unless you help me cheat.”
Pete gasped, eyes widening. “Cheat?” Steph smiled, she had to convince him to help her before he got the confidence to snitch to the teacher. Her dad would get on her ass way more for that than for failing a quiz. “Yeah, it's easy. You just finish your test, hand it to me, and I'll put my name. I do the same for you and we turn them in. You'll get to take it all over again! That's fun!”
He shuffled in his seat. “Yeah, I guess, but…” He looked around, pursing his lips. Steph wasn't looking or anything, he was just being stupidly obvious about it. Pete nodded, looking back to her. “Alright, but-” “Cheaters!” Fuck. Steph whirled around, glaring at Grace Chastity, who was leaning across her desk, her stupid finger pointed at the two of them. “Butt out Chastity!”
Pete turned around too. Him and Grace probably knew each other, right? They were both weird and nerdy. He could talk her down. “Grace.. Just be cool.” She looked to him, raising her hand in the air. “Never.” Before either of them could stop her, Grace stuck her hand in the air, as high and taunt as it could go. “Ms. Mulberry! They're cheating!” Steph groaned, slumping against her desk as all eyes turned to the three of them. Next to her, Peter straightened up, face turning pink. “I'm so fucking dead.”
Ms. Mulberry strode towards them. “What's this about cheating?” Grace stepped forward, a triumphant grin on her stupid face. “They were gonna swap tests and put their own names on them so Steph could pass!” Their teacher sighed. “Stephanie, Peter, principals office.” Peter shakily raised his hand. “We weren't-” “Now!” Ms. Mulberry insists, pointing at the door. Steph rolled her eyes as her and Peter collected their things. Everyone was watching them. Steph couldn't care less.
She stalked through the hallway, Pete walking next to her. She was walking a lot faster than he was, but he'd got stupid long legs, so they moved roughly the same distance. Steph kicked at the ground. “Grace Chastity, that damn snitch! Man, I hate that nerdy prude!” Pete whimpered. “God I'm dead, I am so dead.” Steph looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “What? This your first time? Don't worry about it, it's like two hours detention tops.”
He scoffed. “I'm not worried about detention, I'm worried about what the popular kids are going to do once they find out I've talked to you. I don’t need this attention!” He worriedly looked around, breathing heavily. Steph chuckles. “What? You don’t want to be bullied?” He stopped to look at her. “No!” He waved his hands and gestured to himself. “I want to be invisible.”
Steph can't help but smirk. “Then why do you come to public school in suspenders and a bowtie?” Pete looked at her incredulously. “Bowties are high class!” He huffed, thinking for a moment before sputtering out. “Do you remember Travis Colton?” Steph nodded. “That really poor kid.” Peter sighed. “Didn't he and his family starve to death or something?” Travis had always come to school in old loose-fitting clothes, always with an empty lunchbox. One day he'd randomly stopped showing up at all. Most kids could connect the dots by themselves.
“No! And he wasn't poor!” Peter blurted out. He stamped his foot. “He wore a dirty shirt once and everyone bullied him so bad, his parents transferred him to Sycamore.” Steph snorted. “Sycamore? I'd rather starve to death.” Peter ignored her. “And the suspenders are to hold my pants up. Brad Callahan pantsed me once in the sixth grade right in front of Sarah Zimmerman. And she started this rumor…” He trailed off, but Steph didn't need him to finish.
“Oh my god! You're Micro-Peter!” Steph grinned, pointing. Peter groaned, pinching his nose. “You're like, famous!” Everyone at Hatchetfield high knew about Micro-Peter, the only issue was that there were five peter's in their grade, so sometime around seventh grade Micro-Peter's specific Peter had been lost to time. She should've figured it would have been this nerd. An awkward silence fell between them, and Steph couldn't keep her eyes from straying. “Can I ask about it-” “It's not actually a micro-penus!” Peter's voice cracked. “I was eleven, it's grown since then.”
She smirked. “Well, there goes your claim to fame.” Peter made a noise of annoyance. “This outfit is a tapestry of my trauma. It is designed to provoke as little teasing as possible.” Steph waited a couple seconds, before walking up close to him. “Anyone ever do this?” She slid a finger under one of his suspenders, pulling it out and watching the elastic slap back into place with a ‘tong!’. Peter rubbed his chest where the strap had hit him. “Every damn day. My titties are tenderized.”
Trying to contain her amusement, Steph nodded in solidarity. Peter adjusted his strap back into place. “But, it's better than being called that humiliating nickname.” He looked at her. “I have a real name, you know? Peter Spankoffski.” Steph stared at him for a second. Really? No wonder people made fun of him. He sighed. “It's Polish.” Steph chuckled, this dude was fun. “I didn't know you were funny.”
Peter stopped, shoulders slumping back. He looked caught off guard. “...neither did I.” Steph shrugged, smiling at him. “I like funny guys.” Before he could respond, the bell rang, and Peter flinched. “Shit! Oh shit shit shit! I can't let him see me with you!” Steph took a step forward in confusion, and he skittered back. “He's creamed nerds for less!” With that, Pete ran down the halls into the crowd of students emerging from their classes. “Who has? Spankoffski! Who are you running from?” Steph took a few steps after him before giving up. There was no point following if he wasn't going to answer her. She had other things to do. Like deciding whether she should get chewed out at the principals office so she could skip her next class, or just sleep at her desk and hope her teacher cared as little as she did. The latter was much more likely.
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Steph's footsteps echoed around her as she stomped through her house's linoleum hallway. She wasn't stomping for any particular reason, aside from the fact that it pissed her dad and his stupid assistant off from all the noise. There was a rug underneath her, but it did nothing to stop the sound of her feet or the echo. She stomped into the sitting room, making sure to wipe her shoes on the guady carpet. “I'm home!”
As if on cue, the aforementioned assistant stormed in, glaring at her. Ms. Tessburger frantically paced, huffing. “Stephanie, where have you been! I've had three staffers dry to fet ahold of you! You didn't pick up all day.” Steph rolled her eyes, throwing her backpack to the ground behind her. “I was at school.” She slumped against the couch arm. On instinct, she tried to grab her phone, but she'd left it in her bag and she wasn't about to sheepishly walk back and take it out.
Ms. Tessburger gave her a tight smile, picking her bag up from the ground. “This is politics, Stephanie. Learn to multitask.” She took a deep breath, waving her hand in Steph's direction. “Have you seen the new polls? Your father is in the margin of error and you are doing everything you can to fuck things up!” She took another deep breath, pushing her hair back. “It's like you don't care about this campaign at all.”
“Wow.. Ms. Tessburger, it is like that.” Her and the assistant stared at each other, before Steph's least favourite voice cut through the air. “Well, well, if it isn't my October surprise.” Her dad slowly walked in, arms crossed. He commanded the both of them's attention, and Steph swore he made the room even less bearable. Ms. Tessburger picked up her bag with a scowl and left, leaving Steph alone with her Father.
He sighed. “Stephanie, next time you're going to cheat, do it like a Lauter and don't get caught.” Steph scoffed. “I wouldn't have gotten caught if it weren't for that nerdy, little-” “Please, Stephanie.” Her father raised his hand, shutting her up. “I'm trying to have an intelligent conversation with you, in other words, shut up.” From the back of the room, Ms. Tessburger, who clearly hadn't left yet, snickered. “Yeah. Shut up.”
He turned to her, pointing at the door. “You! Out!” Like the coattail-rider she was, Ms. Tessburger nodded politely and left, holding Steph's bag in her arms. Her father turned back to her. “Stephanie, do you have any idea what's coming up in a mere matter of weeks?” She nodded, only half-listening. “The election.” “The election!” He repeated, clearly listening to her as much as she was listening to him. “I had to personally call your principal this afternoon and apologize. Do you know they wanted to suspend you? Imagine how that would've reflected on me. The mayor's daughter. A deviant, a flunky.”
Steph looked away. God she hated lectures like this. She couldn't care less if she flunked or if she was suspended, and she didn't give a crap what her dad thought either, but he still managed to make her feel like shit every time. Steph was pretty much an adult, but her dad just loved to make feel childish and idiotic. It sucked. “We came to an agreement. They aren't going to punish you, but I am.” He paused. “You will raise your grades, or else.”
Steph smirked, turning back around. “Or else?” She snickered, mustering confidence. “How ominous.. What, are you gonna ground me? Like I won't just sneak out.” She stepped away from him. Her father and her never had equal ground. He always thought he was above her, but this, she had control over. “Face it old man, there's nothing you can threaten me with.”
“Oh, really? Ms. Tessburger.” Ms. Tessburger came back through the hallway. She'd clearly deposited Steph's schoolbag somewhere, and she was holding something Steph couldn't see in her hands. She grinned triumphantly as her heels clacked across the floor, and Steph couldn't help but turn around out of interest. Her father held out his hand, and Ms. Tessburger waved around the mysterious object before handing it to him. She smiled. Steph stopped in her tracks. “Hey… That looks like my phone.”
That stupid bitch! She'd picked it out from Steph's bag after she'd left that room! What the hell. Her dad examined it. “It is.” Steph stepped forward, her voice wavering. “Please, be careful with that dad.” She stepped closer, flashing her vest attempt at puppy dog eyes. “Please, Daddy?” He didn't respond at first, placing her phone on a side table. “Oh, I'll be careful with it.” He reached under the side table, grabbing a tool. “I'll carefully smash it with this hammer.” Steph gasped. “You wouldn't! Not even you would do something that evil! You know all of my pictures are on there!”
Her father held Steph's phone in one hand and the hammer in the other. “I've found a weak spot, haven't I?” He held the phone higher in the air. “Your whole generation's enthralled with these fucking boxes. App-junkies.” He threw the phone to the side table. “I'm going to free you of it, Stephanie.” He threw his arm back, swinging the hammer down. Steph gasped, rushing forward and clamping her hand over the phone before she could think. “NO!”
Her father stopped, frozen, holding the hammer a few feet over her hand. His hand lowered to his side. He looked down at her like she was the stupidest thing alive. “Did you just throw your hand between the hammer and the phone?” Steph scooted away, standing up and fixing her hair. “Yeah…” Her dad scooped her phone up. “Smart phones are for smart girls, not little dumb-dumbs. You can have this back once you're raised your grades. I don't care if you have to lie, cheat, steal, or shock-of-all-shocks, read a book for once in your life”
She took a tentative step forward, then another. “How am I supposed to study without listening to Spotify?” Steph groaned, before stalking padt him. “Do you even know what you're doing? You're killing me with what your doing!” God she had to go find a payphone. Did they even still have those? As she walked through corridor, wondering how on earth she was going to raise her grades, she heard the parting words on her dad, still standing in the sitting room. “If only, Stephanie. If only.”