Queen Bee

*・ﾟ✧ ––––––

“Complain, complain, complain,” Evelyn teased back as she took the proffered seat at their side. “You’re so damn lucky you’re cute and I put up with you.” 

Things were easy with Bee – comfortable. There was never an awkward moment, tense silence, or misunderstanding between them to be found. Though they hadn’t known each other for very long, it felt as though they had. That was just how their relationship worked, and had from the moment they’d started getting closer over the past year. 

“Aw. That’s so sweet I think my teeth are rotting,” she cooed and reached out for a cigarette happily; cradling it gently between her fingers as she lit up the end to take a long, much needed drag before re-facing her friend. “I don’t blame you. I’m doing the same. It’s a fucking mess out there.” The mention of the spastic glee girl, however, had Evelyn groaning aloud. “God, you’re lucky. She fucking caught me as I was heading over to the LGBTQIA+ booth. It took all my very limited restraint not to bite her head off.” 

“Hell yeah I know I am. I’m the cutest person in this entire shitty small town,” Bee teased. Eveyln never missed a beat when it came to treat them like they were. It was a nice change of pace from everything else in the world.

Remembering the way that the girl had all but vulture in on them, Bee laughed. “Oh Jesus, right? Fucking annoying as hell. And we need more people in PRIDE. You’re coming to the PRIDE homecoming right? Wanna go as my date?”

It wasn’t a romantic offer, but it was still a sincere one. Bee loved spending time with Evelyn no matter waht they were doing.

—

The concept of neither being masculine or feminine didn’t occur to him as a real thing. Everyone was determined a boy or a girl at birth by whether they had a penis or a vagina and the rest…

Johnnie narrowed his eyes, growing uncharacteristically quiet as his brain did the first cohesive jog it’d done in the past three years. The rule of what it meant to be male or female had nothing to do with people’s genitalia, did it? Last time he checked, his dick was pink and it was considered a womanly colour. So did that mean… someone just made it up? That the concept of gender was just all arbitrary guidelines created to put people into easily digestible categories? 

Wait, did that mean Frank was lying? What really made a man then?

The ash from his cigarette fell off onto his jeans amidst his deep pondering. He brushed it off and flicked his cherry out the window before scrambling to sit up right. 

“Does that mean I can’t call you ‘babe’ anymore or…” What he was really asking was whether that meant sex was off the table, but he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about sex with other people. Lore hadn’t said anything about hypothetical sex, though. Right? 

Bee watched as the wheels turned slowly in Johnnie’s brain, unable to keep themself from giggling as his eyes fixated somewhere off into the distance. The last of their cigarette died out and with a sigh they tossed it out the window. There went that. Hopefully there would be another pack in their future after this weeks paycheck came through.

“Alright so here’s what the skinny, Ward, gender is hella fake. Like most things in like if’s a human construct that we arbitrarily choose to live by. And it’s cool and rad if you identify within that binary, more power to you, but to dictate certain things as gender specific is dumb. Pink is as inherently feminine as you make it. Muscle cars aren’t just for dudes.  Some girls want to fuck bitches get money. Example, you know Lore’s weird little brother? He’s not any less of a dude just because he openly admitted to crying during To All the Boys. Dudes who wear eyeliner or skirts aren’t any less dudes if they say they’re dudes. I’m agender no matter if I wear a skirt or cut my hair or get acrylic nails or wear flannel that hides my chest. Being a man is however you define it. Gender and sex are two completely different rodeos.”

Bee grabbed the water from the small pile of stuff they were currently living out of. At least the suitcase made a good end side table for the couch. “People have been living outside the binary for forever. It’s this Eurocentric thinking that stifles the ability to explore. Maybe for tomorrow’s lecture I can break your brain with the complex realm of human sexuality which are overly complicated just because people think they should be.”

Babe. Well that made them laugh.

***

“Martha Rae went to Jesus Cheer Camp and wants us all to repent for our sins,” Lore didn’t hesitate to reveal. Just because Bee wasn’t a Cheerio anymore, that didn’t mean that Martha Rae just dropped out of memory. No, surely Bee would remember how just months ago the girl had almost run away to France with the one kid who had elected to do his study abroad in Lima, Ohio. Martha had been trying to convince the squad to learn French for weeks to make him feel welcome in Cheerio social circles. And then Martha was told the boy was from Spain. That relationship was over before Duolingo could even be deleted from her phone.

“Apparently we’re all still young and there’s still time for us to switch it up to make it into the Kingdom of Heaven but I think she’s going to drop this when the pastor she met at camp stops liking her pictures on Insta. Since that day is not today, I figured I’d take my lunch break in peace,” she further explained, pulling her apple slices out of her bag before popping one into her mouth.

While she was prepared to eat in awkward silence, she appreciated that Bee didn’t let that occur for long. 

“Next week, probably. I think we need to make it through the Org Fair, get the new recruits processed and work from there. When is Homecoming? And also is there a theme?” she questioned, internally debating whether or not to ask the other question that was on her mind. She popped another apple slice into her mouth to procrastinate the impulse, but found that crunching away at it did little to quell that specific desire. Thus, she continued.

“Also, forgive me if I’m overstepping, but… you’re not on Cheerios this year. Am I allowed to ask why? Or is that to remain a mystery?”

The admission was a surprise, but not one that Bee found bizarre at all. They let out a loud laugh, nearly falling from their perch as they imagined Martha Raw the now bible thumper. “Does she think God will forgive her for getting tag teamed in the bathroom at a football game if she gets more people to convert? God that girl is weird as hell, and that’s coming from me of all people.”

They moved over enough to give Lore some space though Bee didn’t do much in terms of making her feel comfortable. It wasn’t a Lore thing, it was just the fact that she now served as a reminder of the before. Before getting kicked out. Before life fell apart. Before they had figured out what they really were. Who they really were.

“Sure, sure. Make it through the org fair so we can poach the freshman off the yearbook committee,” Bee teased, offering Lore a rare smile. “Homecoming dance is the same week as real homecoming. We just always make sure it doesn’t happen on a big event day so once they release that I’ll know for sure. As for theme, it’s the same one as every year. Rainbow. Allies are always more than welcome too. We have a fundraiser at the event that raises money for the annual drag show. I can give you the date if you want to come.”

There it was. The question they had been expecting. It wasn’t every day that someone dropped off their place atop the pyramid. 

“Look it’s not anything against you and the Cheerios. I liked you guys for the most part. The crew was awesome and I loved the vibe. But I just don’t have the time right now. Some....shit went down and I’m currently the literal term of homeless and working as many hours as I can to figure my shit out. I can’t afford to take time off to cheer. I’m sorry.” 

There was a pause, quiet and unsure. “Also, um, I came out as nonbinary. So if you could use they/them pronouns for me I’d appreciate it.”

*・ﾟ✧ ––––––

There weren’t very many people that Evelyn got along with, that much was abundantly obvious. But for the few that she did, she cared about immensely. Bee was, without a doubt, one of those people, despite their ( former ) affiliation with the Cheerio’s. From the moment they’d met, the two had just clicked, and they were someone Evelyn enjoyed being around ( as they both discovered a few times over the summer when Bee had come to stay with her at her apartment ). 

So, when she saw her friend off to the side of campus, she didn’t hesitate in heading on over that way herself, a small smile curling at her lips at the snark shot her way once she was close enough.

“Rude. And here I was, about to ask if you wanted a smoking buddy.”

If there was anyone that Bee would be happy to see it was Evelyn. They turned around and grinned, moving over so that she would have a seat beside her. “Damn be a little louder when you approach then, bitch. Stop being so light on your toes.”

Evelyn, Bee had learned, didn’t give much of a shit about anyone except who they were and how they treated people. It was a refreshing change from the Cheerleading world, and the Chandler household. She had let them crash at her apartment a few times over the summer and that was enough to cement the friendship for good. Hell, if they were feeling generous, Bee might even call Evelyn a best friend.

—

Johnnie looked around the room at the comment. It felt relatively clean in his eyes but he wasn’t gonna stop anybody from doing what they wanted. He pushed the window wide open before taking perch on the edge of his desk by it, propping a foot haphazardly up onto the windowsill while drawing a cigarette with his lips.

“Yeah, but you gotta come here and blow out the window. Stan only likes blowin’ one thing,” he said, holding the box out to Bee. Lighting up the end of his cigarette, he tossed over the lighter after.

He settled in and listened, looking lazy and boneless against the wall but intense in the brow as he tried to make sense of what they were saying. It was like, corn and homosexuality and binaries, which he all understood individually but the combination still sounded confusing. Bee very much felt like a girl when they were together, unless he was missing something very important. He glanced at their legs before averting his eyes out the window before they took that the wrong way. 

“Your parents should know that girls look great in every colour of the rainbow,” he told them sagely, like it was like, a totally valuable interjection and not a loose grab at something insightful to say. He puffed thoughtfully on the end of his cigarette.

Growing up, Frank made sure he understood what being a man was and for the most part, he followed suit. He ran fast, played ball, drove a noisy car and fucked a lot of chicks but college taught him that he could still very much be a man, do all those things and more. Did that make him nonbinary too?

“So, like, what’s that mean exactly? You want a dick now or somethin’?”

Bee moved over the to window, choosing to ignore his comment about what Stan liked to blow. They didn’t want to know, they didn’t care to know, and they were certainly going to throw that information out of their brain the second they got the chance. Stan was definitely not the type of person they saw Johnnie swinging for but to each their own. Especially if it gave them a place to sleep.

The cigarette was nice. It calmed their nerves as they let out a cloudy wisp into the air, watching it float out the window. Bee appreciated that Johnnie was wiling to ask questions. Some people were so worried about offending that they decided it was better to just not know and fly blind. As absurd as his questions were, they meant something. Curiosity, compassion, a desire to understand even at a base level. That was all Bee wanted.

For someone to care enough to ask.

“No, not particularly. I identify as agender which means I don’t feel like a boy or a girl. I don’t want a penis but sometimes I can feel...dysphoric. Where my body doesn’t quite match what I have in mind. Sometimes it feels too feminine, because I’m not a woman. And I’m not a man.”

Bee hummed gently, chuckling as they took the last drag of their cigarette. “Sorry. It’s confusing to me sometimes too.”

If Lorelei Lyons had to trudge to the other side of campus to get even ten minutes of alone time that afternoon, she was going to do it.

They were on lunch break from Cheerios practice, and Lore needed a full break from Martha Rae and her endless stories about how she’d been Saved over the summer at Christian Cheer Camp. God knows if you’re only doing it to impress a hot pastor, Martha, and your Finsta stories made it clear that was the case, Lore was barely able to keep herself from saying. Being around the squad again was… an adjustment.

So Lore had grabbed her pre-packed lunch, mouthed her apologies to her brother, and made sure to be almost to the tables at the edge of campus before half of the squad had made it out of the locker room. Some alone time would be good. Preferable, even, considering how much she had to mentally sort through. If only the whole alone thing had actually worked out.

“Last I checked you couldn’t reserve the great outdoors,” the blonde pointed out, sliding into the table nearest the smoker just to be petty.

She hadn’t really been focused on who exactly had been speaking as much as the words that had come her way, but looking over, recognition of the face (and also voice) of former Cheerio Bee had her speaking up again.

“Oh. Hey. Long time no see.”

Bee recognized the voice immediately, tilting their head gently to look back at where Lorelei Lyons was. You had to be an idiot to not recongize her right away. It was a suprise more than anything for bee to not see the lanky twin brother tagging along. For a long time, they had aspired to bee like her, always so confident, on top of the social pyramid and the cheer one. But thanks to their current situation being a Cheerio just wasn’t in the cards. It was hard to dedicate their life to full time work and school while throwing themself into a sport.

“Hey yourself. What brings you to the edge of your kingdom?” they teased, taking another long drag before stomping the cigarette bud out on the ground. 

They didn’t want to be rude to Lore. It wasn’t her fault that the Foster home had crumbled on a single dramatic night. No one else should have to deal with the concussive fallout.

“When’s the first meeting of the Muckracker? I’ve got a few ideas to pitch. PRIDE is doing our homecoming dance.”

It was hard for things not to be awkward when just the year before they’d been sitting on the bleachers cheering for sports and giggling about boys together. My how the times had changed. Summer really did destroy you.

“I wouldn’t worry about the RA. He and I are on very good terms.”

It was hard to say that he knew what he was doing on the matter. It wasn’t everyday someone came to him for help with anything– not that he wouldn’t help them if they did, but Johnnie Ward wasn’t the name of a kind, philanthropic person. He was a little selfish, self-involved and very under-equipped to handle anything that expanded beyond sexual repression or a fistfight behind the school. 

So when Bee asked for a place to stay in the middle of summer, he answered by pawning her–them, off onto his roommate-slash-bestie who was far more kind, but just as ill-equipped to handle testy parental situations but at least, he had dealt with him in the past. And thus, there they were with a new roommate until better options arose.

Johnnie kicked aside a few articles of clothing from the floor to clear some space out of courtesy. It’d been a few days into Orientation week and the dorm was already a mess with two rowdy boys having moved in after a short summer apart with their families. They’d missed each other and evidence of it was strewn all over in empty soda cans (for him) and burnt up roaches (for Johnnie). 

“You know I’ll never say no to free beer, but uh, don’t worry about it. You should save what you’ve got in case of emergencies. I’m not saying I can’t deal with Stan but, you know, in case,” he said, cocking his head as he looked at them from the corner of his eye.

Johnnie fiddled with a box of cigarettes, tucking a stick over his ear while toggling with the lid on the box. He rarely found himself scrambling for words but he was always cautious when navigating new territory.

“So, I get that somethin’ happened with your parents. I ain’t real good with the text thing so I didn’t really follow but… I guess what I’m askin’ is what happened and if you wanna talk about it.”

Bee couldn’t help but blanch when Johnnie mentioned just how good of terms he was with the RA. Not that it was any of their business what the hell he was doing in his spare time, but they’d seen Stan a few times and couldn’t imagine why someone like Johnnie would be willing to pal around with him. He could do better.

“Maybe I’ll give this place a clean then. It looks like the set of a teen romcom. I know dudes like to live like this but your newest roommates is going to buy a vacuum ASAP.”

Bee paused and pointed at the little box of cigarettes. “If we’re talking about deep shit any chance you’d be willing to spare one of those.”

Talking about home wasn’t their ideal turn of events. Home was...it was complicated in many ways but maybe Johnnie, who was wiling to share his home with them, deserved to know even the bare minimum of what had happened between their parents and them the night they had come out.

“I came out to my parents as nonbinary. I was tired of having to live in their fantasy world where all I would wear was pink and I’d be a cheerleader and I’d marry a nice rich man who could continue on the fucking corn empire or whatever they hell they wanted. That shit isn’t for me. They were already peeved i chose Gender Studies instead of business as my major and I think that was the final straw. They don’t get it. They think it’s fake and made up and I was just rebelling or something so my dad told me to get the fuck out until I learned my lesson or whatever. But there’s no lesson that’s going to get learned. I’m not going back. I want to be myself fully starting now. As much as I sorta miss the Cheerios, I don’t have the time with how many shifts I’m picking up.”

ANNABELLE (BEE) FOSTER (Quintessa Swindell) is an 19 year old SOPHOMORE majoring in GENDER STUDIES. THEY are a member of PRIDE, THE MUCKRAKER, and a (FORMER) CHEERIO and is A LIBRARY AIDE. They’re PROUD, AMBITIOUS, and ADAPTABLE but can also be CRITICAL, HAUGHTY, and UNRESTRAINED. Some refer to them as THE SPITFIRE.

Full Name? Annabelle Antoinette Foster

Preferred Names or Nicknames? Bee only. Never call them Annabelle unless you planned on getting decked. Even before coming out as nonbinary they hated the name.

Age and Date of Birth? 19 years old. November 1st. Scoprio baby.

Gender and Pronouns? Nonbinary Agender. They/Them only.

Sexuality: Prefers the general term “gay”, still trying to figure out specific sexuality

Hometown? Born and raised in Lima. Their parents are well known, unfortunately for them, because of their wealth and their monopoly on the corn empire of Ohio.

Does your character fit into any well known archetypes or tropes? They used to be the Queen Bee but now they’re the Spitfire, having been dethroned by unfortunate events.

Have you made any aesthetic Pinterest boards for this character? Or playlists?  Pinterst baby

Some basics

Is allergic to corn despite the fact that their family comes from wealthy corn people

afraid of crickets

does want to fight you, will fight you, but does not want to get in trouble

avid smoker of both cigarettes and weed (Juuls are for weak people)

There wasn’t a lot in their suitcase. Mostly everything that they’d been able to grab from home before being forced out the door had to fit into an oversized Prada luggage case. They’d stolen the as a final fuck you to the Foster household. 

“So is the plan to hide me under the bed when the RA comes calling?” This was an awkward situation, living with two guys in a dorm room, but they were grateful for the support that they had given. It had been a surprise, to say the least, but not an unwelcome one.

“Hey, um, thanks again. Seriously. For offering me a place to stay and letting me crash with your roommate during the summer.” 

Emotional conversations were not Bee’s strong suit. “I’ll like buy you a case of beer to say thanks.”

There were a few things that weren’t so bad about this place. The sky was pretty to look at, not overcrowded with smog like when they had visited New York with their parents.

Back before that shit went south fast.

There was the subtle sound of footsteps approach and without looking back they motioned to wave whoever was there off. “This spot is taken. Find your fucking own.”