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![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/community.gif) crescentcity
![[info]](https://www.scribbld.com/img/userinfo.gif) porcelinaofvast | |
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Characters: Tatum & Bekka. Setting: Their room, Tuesday afternoon. Content: NSFW for language. Summary: Bekka is pissed, Tatum's oblivious, and they're about to meet in the middle. Other than the slightest air of awkwardness, Tatum felt that her mood was better than it had been in weeks. Things just felt better, and the tension of being pulled this way and that seemed subdued for a little while. She was still trying to keep hanging out with Mackenzie on the down low, never one to rock the boat, but mostly she was glad that they could even still be in the same room together. There had been no relapse, not one more kiss since the other night, not even an inappropriate touch. She could actually look the blonde in the eyes, and other than the sinking guilt in her stomach every time she really thought about what she had done, it was just like old times. Frankie was being as stand-offish as ever, and Tatum was surprised when she had woken up the morning before and realized she didn't care that much. Maybe it wasn't worth stressing herself into panic over every time the brunette got pissed off.. she was a moody girl by nature, always had been. She would get over herself when she felt like it, and Tatum planned to be there waiting whenever that was. No sense in churning her stomach over about it. For now, she wasn't forcing herself around the other girl. She couldn't look her girlfriend in the eyes quite as easily as she could her best friend. This particular Tuesday, the red-haired girl was enjoying her good mood and her last afternoon alone in the room. Bekka had been acting a little weird when she texted yesterday, but she figured it was just stress about her father's situation. Plus, Bekka was always a bit fucking weird anyway, in Tatum's opinion. Whatever had been going on with her roommate, it was at the very back of her mind. She was reclining at her desk, her usual position, with her feet resting on the desk and a bong already blazing in her lap. She had cast the appropriate spells for masking the smell, and settled in for a lazy time, more than content just doing her own thing. She had been doing her own thing for a while now, with the tension between her and the only two girls she really split her time between, so it was becoming an almost relaxing habit. Alone wasn't so bad, she had been before Mack or Frankie showed up. It wasn't so bad at all. Choking a little on her smoke, the redhead sat up and coughed, pounding a fist on her chest lightly. Tags: !complete, !incomplete, aune walkky, tatum donnelly
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There was a hell of a lot that Bekka put up with. Her father's career coming first in everything, her grandmother's insistence that she stuff her bra, her classmate's drama in regards to everything. The ineptitude of the available math courses offered at CCI... the list went on. All of it, all of it Bekka tolerated in silence, only briefly mentioning them in her notebook, as a sort of record of days. Then of course. She lost her notebook, her socks, her parents and now the fucking sanitation of her sheets. So what if they weren't 'Egyptian' or some shit? Those sheets had cost Bekka sixty damn dollars! Sixty dollars she had to earn with hard work and sweat. Sixty dollars she now had to throw away because of what had happened in them. It did not matter whether or not Bekka was a virgin, or if she even knew what happened during girl-sex, it mattered that it was not in their girl-bed. Bekka believed Hunter, not because she was the most trustworthy person at CCI, but because of how she announced it, and that she had paid for it. Bekka believed in things that costs money. The night before she had slept, fully clothed, on the top of her comforter. But not tonight, oh no. Tonight she was going to sleep in the finest of satin, the softest of pillows and the blood of her enemies. Perhaps not all in that exact form, but close enough. Dressed out of her uniform (for god forbid she gets that dirty), Bekka stood just in the doorway, looking over at the scene of the crime, the accused and the evidence... which there was very little. When she spoke, she used her sweetest, most innocent of words. "So I hear you're into bigamy now." |
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She was high. Of course. Not that Bekka was innocent on any or all charges of illegal substance use, but Tatum seemed to be training for the druggie decathlon in the terms of marijuana. Well, at least it'd be easier to follow through on the rest of her plans if she was passed out on the floor.
Bekka took a step forward into the room, quietly closing the door behind her, less anyone overhear. Heaven forbid that, yet. She widened her stance, and spoke louder again, just in case Tatum didn't hear her.
"I'm told that's what it's called when you're screwing two different people. Or is that infidelity?" Bekka paused, leaning back, just a little, against the door. "I always seem to get them mixed up anymore."
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When Bekka closed the door, Tatum was right back into her self-absorbed actions, puffing smoke rings idly with her head tipped back against the headrest of her chair. Maybe the other girl wouldn't stick around long. She really wanted to put some music or something, but she really hadn't really gauged what kind of mood Bekka was in. She almost seemed too calm, it was wigging her out.
She almost spoke up and told her to stop looking at her like that, but what came out of Bekka's mouth next completely shut the redhead up.
What tiny bit of color she had immediately drained from her face, and sputtered a little on her current smoke ring, destroying it mid-exhale. "What?" she asked weakly. Her hands had tensed around the bong, and she quickly leaned forward to put it onto the desk instead before she broke it or something. Her hands were sweating like mad now.
"I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about," she insisted quickly, perhaps too defensively.
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Oh Jesus tap-dancing Christ, she knew. How in the name of fuck did she know? Who else knew? Tatum felt her stomach plummet, and she knew she was going to freak out. The panic was creeping up on her already, as she stoned mind began to piece everything together. What all of this meant, if Bekka wanted to say something to someone, anyone. But Frankie especially. How the fuck did she know? Tatum tried desperately not to betray any of her worries on her face, just staring blankly at Bekka, and hoping her chest wasn't heaving as quickly as it felt like it was. She was going to hyper-ventilate if she didn't calm down. This was bad, really bad, and she didn't think she was getting out unscathed. Finally breaking the paralysis of her panic, Tatum spun around in her chair, back turned to Bekka now. She fiddled with something on her laptop, staring blankly at that instead. "W-Why do you care? I just.. it's none of your business. You were gone away. Y-you.. you could fuck a guy in here if y-you wanted," she managed to blurt out, lips feeling numb even as she said it. Act tough was her best chance. That's what someone like Hunter or Mackenzie would do, just puff out their chests and fuck the haters. She just didn't know if she had enough puff in her. She was already winded, and Bekka hadn't even gotten started. "What b-bird?" she suddenly asked, realizing another reality of this situation. How else could she know? Mackenzie was the only person who could have told. Wasn't she? Moodily, she clicked through her iTunes, selecting a song. She didn't want to talk about this anymore. |
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This couldn't actually be happening. Just when she thought everything was going so well, and just getting back to normal. Any of the relaxation she had been enjoying earlier was gone, and she felt herself getting madder at Mackenzie by the second. How could she do this to her? Just when things were getting better.
She jumped again when Bekka grabbed her chair, and she quickly craned her neck around to look up at the other girl. "Will you k-keep your fucking voice down!?" she found herself snapping, regretting it as soon as she said it. That was defensive. She was defensive. What was the point in hiding it any longer?
Frankie and Rowan were just next door. The walls, while not paper thin, certainly weren't soundproof. When Bekka let go of the chair, Tatum jumped out of it, pacing over to the windowsill and standing there. Just staring out and scrubbing her hands quickly over her face. This was bad, so fucking bad.
"I-I'm not-- I'm not a slut! Fuck you, I didn't mean to, we just-- it happened unexpectedly," she finished lamely, feeling like hyper-ventilating again. It had been a stupid mistake after all, hadn't it? She should have known.
She had honestly forgot they had even been in Bekka's bed until now, with the girl screaming at her. She had been so focused on Mack, the location had been irrelevant.
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"It-- I didn't do it to m-mess with your stuff! Screw off! Do you actually t-think that?!" Tatum managed, throwing her hands up over her head in frustration, wand still clutched in one fist. Smoking out of a bong always left the worst taste in her mouth, and it was now worse than ever. She felt nauseous and faint, and it certainly wasn't helping. She'd be lucky if she didn't ralph from freaking out.
"Don't," the redhead quickly offered, trying to hide the desperation on her face, but finding it coming out anyway. "I didn't-- it was a mistake, I lvoe her, please don't tell her," she managed, swallowing thickly again, and lowering her wand a bit. What was she going to do, hex her? Really? Good luck explaining why to anyone.
"I'll-- I'll do anything, I'll like.. buy you a new bed, I'll give y-you all my weed, my tv, anything!"
She knew, in the end, making some kind of financial offer was the only chance she had. If she even still had a chance at this point.
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"Like hell you aren't!" Bekka yelled back, but was then silent. She had to think. Before she came in, before confronting Tatum she had tried to write everything out in a new notebook, plan out her words and demands, get the phrasing right. The only fault in her plan, now that it was in action, was that she was still a teenage girl, one who was stressed and without sleep and just a little big scared. This wasn't as calm or Soprano-esque as she had planned out.
She took a few breaths, looked Tatum over and glanced back to the door. Frankie. Right. Frankie was her bargaining chip here, and Bekka couldn't let herself forget that.
"You're buying me a new bed." She started again, much (albeit forced) calmer. "But you're going to have to do a hell of a lot more than that for me not to go post a warning to anyone's roommate that you're sleeping with. Warning them to cover their sheets in plastic or some shit."
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She was backed between a rock and a hard place, and she really didn't have any room for bargaining. She nodded her head furiously when Bekka agreed she'd buy her a new bed, and she only tensed a little when the other girl suggested actually posting something about this. Just right out where everybody could see.
Now Tatum was sure she was going to pass out. She reached out her free hand, clutching the windowsill and leaning on it. Everybody would know. Not just Frankie, but all of her friends, Sera, all Sera's friends, all Frankie's friends. Everybody would know. Oh god, she was definitely going to be sick.
Everybody in the whole school could not find out what she had done. If that happened, she'd just have to leave school. She'd go home and just.. go to school with Rath in Maine. She should have done something like that months ago, maybe even years ago, before she became this fist-fighting, cheating liar that she didn't even recognize anymore.
"N-Name it, name it and I'll do it, I s-swear I'll do it," she offered weakly, trying to breathe deeply.
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"Never again," Tatum agreed, more to assure herself than to assure Bekka. Still shaken up, but with her wand lowered entirely now, she moved back over to her desk and grabbed her wallet from where it lay. She opened it, trying not to frown as she counted out three twenties. It was all she ever carried, it was the two gram bill, she probably spent one every day.
Holding the sixty out to Bekka, she tried to straighten up and seem less upset by all of this. "And a new bed, a really nice one, right?" she added. How much were whole beds anyway? Probably crippingly expensive. She vaguely wondered if Sera might help her out with a loan. She always had her money squirreled away somewhere, if she hadn't started spending it on pimping Jenny out or something. There would be interest, but it could save her whole relationship.
Or salvage what was left.
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