silken twine;

head tilted a touch as she read the words suicide stone. that was terrifying. was it a stone that compelled people to commit suicide when they may have never contemplated it before? or was it simply a stone where many people had committed suicide? had anyone? god, curse wikipedia. just enough information to intrigue her but no where near enough to answer the seemingly endless questions that stemmed from the information. “ maybe it’s not as bad as it sounds. ” she said suddenly, leaning away from computer screen and straightening up as she did. while this was a discussion of sorts, her statement had been said aloud to convince herself as well. “ like, maybe some sort of conscious mass suicide happened at the stone– and that’s still really bad and tragic and horrible, obviously, ” she cut into her own statement quickly with passionate empathetic tone. “ but it’s not like a people are mysteriously and uncontrollably compelled to kill themselves at this weird stone thing. ” which was honestly where her mind had immediately gone to when flick had first said the phrase. from the sounds of things there was a lot of potential unconcious compelling in the bridgewater triangle, whether it be from ghost or cryptid or something more on their plain of physical existence. 

okay, well, if nothing else she had flick. she wasn’t sure how comforting that was, or how much she trusted flick, but she certainly thought it was a lot better than being the only person watching out for everyone while also trying to make sure she didn’t get dragged off by bigfoot herself. she nodded absently, pressing her lips together for a moment as she thought before flick spoke again. head turned to her with brows slightly raised, waiting to hear what the favour was before she went agreeing to things willy nilly. she had just agreed to save her from herself or whatever else was in the swamp on their upcoming camping trip, she wasn’t sure she was ready to do flick anymore favours. but then it wasn’t really one. she quickly leaned forward and started typing into a new tab as flick continued. “ like what? they believe in all this stuff? ” she questioned, that seemed to be the implied reason but sofie couldn’t picture the stiff faculty of broadripple believing in pukwudgies. then the search finished loading a sofie returned her eyes to the screen to read the results. unsurprisingly none of the results were where they were going. “ boston / cape cod k.o.a. holiday, normandy farm campground, and pine acres family camping resort, ” she listed, “ all of which sound lovely, compared to the suicide stone and goblins ” she noted under her breath with a hint of bitterness to her voice as she looked a little closer at the map google provided. “ and pine acres is like, between here and boston. ” she said, pointing at the red marker on the screen. 

Flick delivered Sofie a look that could only be translated into a blatant ‘what the fuck?’ when she spoke again, “That’s your version of not so bad, is it?” she questioned bluntly. She knew that Sofie was crazy- well, she’d been told by Gwen on numerous occasions that Sofie was crazy but this wa something else. She furrowed her brow, still entirely unconvinced by Sofie’s attempt to remedy the concept of the suicide stone, if that was indeed what she was trying to do, “So, as long as we mean to top ourselves, rather than being convinced to do it by some goblin in a rock, that’s fine?” she questioned, admittedly more facetiously than was necessary. She knew, intellectually, that that wasn’t quite what the Keough house captain had meant.

She shrugged her shoulders at Sofie’s follow up question, “Don’t know, can’t be sure,” sh conceded, though it was a possibility, she suppose. “Either they’re purposely stuffing us in the middle of all this bullshit because yeah- like you say- they believed in all of it or it’s all a load of bollocks but its a good distraction from summat else- whatever that might be,” she reasoned. She was edging dangerously close to a full-blown conspiracy theory rabbit hole but she knew she was in good company with Sofie Bauer on that front. 

“Hmm,” she hummed pensively, shifting her chair once more as she mulled over the alternatives Sofie had come up with during her Google search. “So there’s other places. Places that are more fit, closer, less fucked,” she noted, thinking allowed, “Yet, we’re on our way to Bridgewater by the bus load. It’s not right, that,” 

sofie could only lift her shoulders because she had no idea if that was how you pronounced pukwudgie, and she had no real idea of what the hell they were. no, em had stopped her tale at that point, promising it for next weeks episode. she’d never been so glad she was behind on her regular podcast listening. “ i dunno, some kind of little goblin thing, i think, ” she said, doing her best to skim page on screen to see if any more information would jump out at her “ they try and draw you out into the woods or something, ” she had to leave it there because she had no idea why the pukwudgies did what they apparently did.

“ not specifically, i don’t think, but there’s been like loads of cult …  ” she trailed off, waving a hand as she tried to think of the word. falling short of activity she went with “ bullshit in fall river. ” she said, trying to find the spot where she’d read about cults in the area. “ it was all in the eighties but that stuff lingers, you know. ” she wasn’t sure on her statement that it was all in the eighties but she was too busy remembering that flick hadn’t answered her question if she believed in all that shit. maybe residual energy would be too crazy a concept and flick would go back to her cousin with stories of how she was definitely nuts. she was distracted from that thought when flick pointed to her screen. “ are you serious? that’s what it’s called? ” she questioned, shifting so she could get a better look at the screen.

she wouldn’t say it now, but sofie’s first thought had been to dig the crucifix necklace out of her jewellery box and become a devout christian for a week. and she probably still would but maybe there needed to be a larger overarching plan. “ maybe we just have to look out for each other? make sure no one does anything dumb like wander off by themselves? ” she suggested, it wasn’t much of a plan but there weren’t a whole lot of options. “ it’s not like we can tell a teacher, they wouldn’t take it seriously. they already planned the trip there, there’s no way they haven’t already heard all of this stuff. ”

Flick made no effort to disguise the unpleasant expression contorting her features as she pictured the ‘little goblin thing’ Sofie spoke of. No fucking thank you. She already had a little goblin thing in her life, she called it Gwen and it was more than enough for her to deal with on any given day.

“Great,” she chimed dryly, cults, kiddie fiddling- wait, Sof said there was none of that. Whatever. Cults, animal sacrifice, some suicide rock thing. If Disneyland was the happiest place on earth, Bridgewater was the most fucked. Why on God’s sweet Earth it was considered a camping spot, let alone a holiday destination of any kind of was mystery to Flick but she’d grown to expect bad decisions from the Broadripple faculty to some extent, she supposed. “Right here,” she confirmed, shifting the laptop slightly, angling the screen toward her blonde companion.

Flick’s jaw tensed as she pictured her throwing Sofie’s body into the jaws of whatever the fuck a thunder bird was if it came to it. If any sort of life of death situation emerged, she certainly wouldn’t be looking out for anybody but Felicity Phillipa Fortescue, that was for darn sure. Not that Sofie needed to be made aware of that. “Yeah, of course,” she agreed instead, it was better to have the other girl on side than to admit that she would be using the Keough house captain as a meat shield, should the opportunity present itself. 

“Do me a favour, yeah?” she tapped on the blank space next to the touch pad of Sofie’s laptop, “Google ‘best camping spots Massachusettes’ - I want to see how many other options we had before the faculty settled on this place,” she insisted, “There has to be a reason they landed on this and I’m not taking history lessons for an answer, that’s a load of bollocks, I’m sure of it,” 

the ghost of lamps past and a pumpkin stealing cryptid, a seemingly innocent episode title of one of sofie’s favourite podcasts. little did she know that she would be tuning in to em and christine talking about … well, about exactly where her and her classmates were supposed to be going camping. she didn’t notice it at first, happily listening to the hosts catch up with one another as she typed away at an assignment. then they say it: the bridgewater triangle. 

it catches her, but she thinks maybe she heard it wrong, or she was misremembering the name of the place they were supposed to be camping in a week’s time. or maybe bridgewater was where they were going but the bridgewater triangle was an entirely different thing. but then they continue. the corners of the triangle: abington, rehoboth, and freetown. wasn’t freetown one of the places they were going too? with concerned features she minimised microsoft word and opened chrome instead. in one tab a google search from the triangle and in another, her school emails open with the information about camp. there was only one freetown massachusetts, just like there was only one bridgewater massachusetts. both were in this bridgewater triangle, both were locations of philip’s war,  and both were where they were going to be camping. oh boy.

she paused the podcast, removed headphones from her ear, and wondered to herself, was this nuts? it had to be, right? she hated to disturb other people while they were working but if they were going to some crazy supernatural vortex, surely people had to know about it, right? “ hey, sorry, ” she said, reaching out a hand to grab the attention of the other person at the table. “ have you ever heard about this? ” she asked, spinning her laptop around to show the wikipedia page. “ the bridgewater triangle, ” she said, even though her companion could surely read that for themselves. “ i think it’s where we’re going for camp– i mean, do you like, ” she paused a second, lowering her voice a little as she continued “ believe in all that spooky stuff? ghosts, and cryptids and whatever? ” because sofie absolutely did, but she wasn’t in the mood to be completely mocked for it.

“The fuck is a pug- puck-” she stumbled on the unfamiliar word, the collection of letters in a strange arrangement getting caught behind her teeth, “Pukwudgie? I’ve no idea how to say that, I’ve never heard of that me whole life,” Flick asked, having abandoned her own laptop in favor of Sofie’s, scooting her chair right beside the blonde’s to observe the screen more directly. “Does it say anything about kiddy fiddling or ritual sacrifice? I think we’ve got summat to worry about if it does,” she spoke a little absently as her eyes wandered the text on the page, searching for keywords to pique her interest. “Suicide stone,” she tapped the tip of her index finger delicately on the surface of the screen, “Bloody brilliant that is, what a proper laugh for a bunch of students on an educational trip into the middle of fuckin’ nowhere,” she rolled her eyes, “That would be right,” she complained dryly, it seemed perfectly on-brand for Broadripple at this point and she wasn’t sure whether it was worth the energy being concerned about any of it.

She leaned back in her seat with arms folded across her chest, “What does this mean for us, then? I’m no wearing a bloody crucifix around me neck and making circles of salt around me tent but I sort of feel like we should do something about all this,”

           bless her naive, hopeful heart. morgan hoped that after her father’s tuesday evening phone call, in which he was more or less demanding to know how her club activity is going, he would end up… well, not particularly incessant. spoilers: he did. just one hour before this very moment, he rang again, not taking no for an answer. so, what is a girl supposed to go, when she’s been staying as far away as possible from all of these things ( and other forms of optional responsibilities )? LIE, obviously. oh, yeah, dad. actually, i’m switching clubs. my old one sucks. 

           cut to now, as she’s sitting by the edge of a window, feet crossed, a list of pros and cons in one hand and a delicious, delicious shake in her other one. it’s bad enough that he’s starting to check her grades and performance now, let alone the fact that he’s regulating her social life too. SCREW YOU, MALIA. she had to go abroad and fuck everything up for her.

          “ orchestra and band, ” she mumbles to herself, teeth nibbling on the ( ecologically friendly ) straw. “ out. ” a turn of the page. “ it’s almost like i’d need to be talented for this. ” she’s been going back and forth for roughly five hundred hours now. something has to click, right? as her eyes remain glued to a few options she finds slightly viable, there’s a flick of her arm and she tosses the empty shake cup into what she knew for a fact to be a trashcan. and that’s about right. except someone ends up between the projectile and its trajectory right in that very moment. it’s from the corners of the eyes that she glimpses the way the object hits the person’s head. and, dumb as she is, morgan lets her head turn. just enough to make ( uncomfortable ) eye contact.

          shit. did she just assault someone? they’re probably pissed now. “ sup? ” she’ll keep it cool, though. right? right. “ you in any clubs? ”

The moment the paper cup met with Flick’s forehead, the senior stopped in her tracks, stifled by shock but immediately furious just moments after. “Oi, dickhead, think that’s funny, do you? Are you off your meds?” she growled assertively as she picked the cup up and whipped it back at Morgan with strength gifted to her by years of playing rounders in the schoolyard. 

Not for a second did the Setonite consider that perhaps the incident had been the product of poor timing and not an explicit attack on her. Even though Morgan and Flick hadn’t had any memorable issues with one another in the past, Flick was pretty sure that being Gwen Prescott’s cousin made her a permanent target for all sorts of unpleasantries, it was merely a fact of life.

Wiping what she hoped wasn’t something completely disgusting off of her forehead with the back of her hand, she realized the other girl was actually talking to her, “Am I what?” she snapped, at the question as she hitched her book bag over her shoulder, the strap having fallen slightly as she threw her arm violently moments beforehand. She furrowed her brow and stared at the girl, trying to establish whether she was having a lend of her or if she had a few screws loose. “Maybe I am,” she was, “What’s it worth to you?” she asked her, folding her arms across her chest, standing to full height with her back straight as she addressed the other girl directly. 

Things were finally looking up! Well, actually, they weren’t great, Jay’s legs felt like jelly from trying out for the Basketball team that afternoon in order to occupy some of his free time at the moment but then, he also decided very quickly that TPTS ( tall people team sports ) were really not his thing. Plus, is hair was sweaty now and he didn’t like it. But most of all, this whole swift change of living arrangements really had Jay on edge and avoiding his dorm at pretty much all costs lately. Which was kind of fine because between trying new stuff, attempting tutoring, and having his two best friends in one dorm package now, it wasn’t hard. As if pray-freak DeStantis hadn’t creeped him out enough for years to come, though Jay realized he probably would have taken that over anything else at this point, at least the guy had never been around. Now, Jay had to hold his breath before walking into his room every afternoon, hoping that maybe his new roomie was out doing something dumber than yesterday and posting himself in an envelope to Europe or something with no return address.

Despite whoever it was in his dorm room that afternoon though, the fact the door was left right fucking open was enough to have Jay’s heart jump into his throat. Stuff didn’t exactly go missing often around this school ( which was, first of all, wild, given that bears died and ghosts haunted people, but whatever, right? ) but his deep love for his Switch and his committed relationship with his Wacom tablet was far too great to even humor the idea that Chris or himself could just… leave the dorm door open for all and any to come sauntering on in whenever they felt like it. He swore… if this was his roommate and that annoying friend of his again, Jay… would probably not do a single thing, but he’d have words about it to the girls later. Lots of words. Ones he might even have to look up in a dictionary first before repeating.

Pushing into his dorm, without even registering the presence of the person who might be inside, an immediate, “What the hell?” jumped out of him in accusation at the lack of security.

“Alright?” Flick greeted Jay casually as if she wasn’t the culprit of an extremely lazy B & E that afternoon. “You know the open door rule is reserved for when you’re actually in here like,” she noted, pointing at the door, “Otherwise any old lunatic can wander in here, fuck with all your stuff and leave and you’d be none the wiser,” she warned, maybe she’d already fucked with his stuff, maybe she hadn’t. The mystery would prevail, it seemed. “Or maybe there’s someone in the closet with a six-inch hunting knife, waiting for you to fall asleep,” she shrugged her shoulders. She hadn’t checked for any psychos recently, she’d leave that to Jay, “You heard about what happened with Walsh and Bauer, innit, best be careful if you’ve pissed either of ‘em off as of late,” she wasn’t sure if the knife thing was common knowledge but she had no allegiance to either girl, she didn’t care to keep it under wraps, “Walsh might not fit in there but you never know. Can’t trust anyone these days,” she motioned toward the door of one of the boys closet, unsure of which roommate it belonged to but deciding it served the point she was making regardless.

“Anyway, glad I caught you though I-” she cut herself short, noticing the gym bag over his shoulder. As far as she was concerned, he’d quit the swim team after socking his captain square in the nose and that was a pretty good reason if you asked her, “What’s all this?” she asked, curiously, she’d return to her previous sentiment eventually but now, it seemed, was not the time. “You look all sporty,” she noted wiggling a finger in his direction, quite impressed by it, really.

Flick’s little display over how inadequate Broadripple’s social food chain was in no way incorrect, but Gwen still felt a little bit of bile at the fact she was tearing apart the only place Gwen had come to know. So what if the popular boys were absolute creeps, they didn’t mean anything and Gwen was especially sharp at reminding Alex and co. about it whenever she could but that was her job, not Flick’s. But then, she also didn’t know if Flick was telling the truth about London boys either, as Gwen had refused to be the one to do the transfer for their Ultimate Year Of Fun. “If your standards were so high, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.” Gwen reminded her sharply, as if stabbing a stop sign into the ground right before Flick’s feet, a warning to shut up if she didn’t want to argue with Gwen all afternoon.

It took a minute to pretend not to care, but Gwen got there eventually, putting a swing into her step as if she had better things to care about. Listening to the backchat about Maggie, however, Gwen laughed. “If she does, I’ll tell her where to go. To Hell,” She announced, stopping by one of the drinking fountains to fill her water bottle, “Where she probably came from, right?”

“Blood’s thicker than water, innit?” she reminded her promptly. Once upon a time, Flick would have done anything for her cousin and maybe, though she’d not dare admit it to anybody, she still would. Despite what a let down the United States had turned out to be and what an absolute circus Broadripple was on a daily basis, she still loved Gwen with all her heart, insults and all, even if she did want to knock her for six every so often.

She managed a laugh at the joke, it was so fuckin’ easy to laugh at Maggie Monroe, even when Flick was in the sourest of moods. “Hell wouldn’t even take her back, I’d bet on that,” she insisted, hopping up from where she’d been comfortably perched to dump her empty yogurt tub in the nearest bin while Gwen filled up her water bottle, not sparing a single shit to give over the fact that it was clearly for paper only. “Speaking of freakshows, I bumped into Ben in the hallway-  music blaring and all that- he had a message for you, you want to hear it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and folding her arms across her chest. It was an unpleasant message on every front and even worse if Flick decided to use the very same phrasing that Ben had used to deliver it to her first hand. “I tried to warn him, told him he’d be proper fucked if he started a war with you but he wouldn’t listen,” sure, it wasn’t exactly how things had gone but Flick was desperate for entertainment, “Couldn’t believe the cheek of him, not after all he’s done to you but he’s mad, he is,” which was essentially nothing, in Flick’s opinion but she’d wholeheartedly agreed with Gwen’s raging fury every time Ben’s list of misdeeds came up.

Ben stood waiting through Flick’s rundown of exclamations and witticisms in the same manner he often had with Jamie’s—one-part confused, two-parts annoyed, and wholly fuckin’ over it. He ran an errant hand through his hair, gritting his teeth as he swallowed the bitter truth that lay within Flick’s continuous flow of words: Gwen was still pissed. It wasn’t the first time she had ever been aggravated with him in some way, but this was a different creature altogether. She was pissed and she really, really wanted him to feel it. She was pissed and while Ben had once thought he knew the extent of how long some stupid fight of theirs could last, this one had gone way beyond the five days she refused to speak to him when they were twelve. He stiffened slightly as Flick messed with his tie, then rolled his eyes at the sound of her laugh. “Thanks for the warning, man, but I’m not gonna fuckin’ run away just because Gwen doesn’t wanna eat her salad across from me anymore,” he replied, forcing a shrug of indifference, then loosened his tie enough to lift it up and over his head, taking it off entirely. “Was this some kind of mission she sent you on or something?” It wouldn’t have necessarily surprised him, but he found it surreal enough to be on the receiving end that his stomach gave a sudden, nauseating surge. He shifted his jaw. “Listen, I’m wicked glad you’ve still got your henchman gig. That’s just, like, so sick for you, since you were dragged across a fuckin’ ocean for it, but I don’t give a shit about her plans and threats or—whatever. She’s not my problem anymore, just like she’s made it clear that I’m not hers. You can go and tell her that.”

“Is that right?” color her shocked, she expected that burying his head in the sand was just about the only thing Ben was capable of, aside from running track of course. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you then, can you?” she asked rhetorically, feeling as if she’d done her civic duty to the male by reminding her that Gwen still had a mind to decapitate him as soon as she could find the right tools to get the job done with. She shook her head, “No, I’ve done it on me own volition, I’m tryin’ to be kind to you, you see,” she reasoned and thought quite sincerely that she was doing the right thing. She laughed at the phrase ‘henchman gig’ somehow it seemed to be a promotion compared to whatever the fuck it was that Gwen actually considered her cousin. Guard dog was probably closest but for the sake of her own pride, she didn’t mention that aloud to Ben. “I’ll tell her you said so, would you like me to use those exact words?” she questioned with an eyebrow raised, folding her arms across her chest as she did so. “Who you gonna sit with now? You know she’s dragged Fitzy to our table to take your place? He makes goulash seem fun, man’s got all the personality of a rubber band,” she complained, thinking that Ben was practically a walking beach party compared to the Fenwick house captain, “Don’t get me wrong, I’d still trade my freaky roommate for yours but fuckin’ hell, he’s a dishrag,” she thought about it for a moment, “So, why aren’t the two of you best mates then?” she asked, if they were both as useless as each other, it made no sense to Flick why they hadn’t coupled up yet.

The swift way humidity descended on New England always took Ben by surprise, even after eighteen years of it. From months of snow and below freezing temperatures to a sudden, sweltering heat had never been a smooth transition; it was always happened too fast, even after a whole winter spent wishing for summer. There was no real in-between, even spring only lasted a couple weeks. Everyone had to contend with going from one pole to another, from layering up as many school-sanctioned articles of clothing to shrugging out of their blazers at the earliest opportunity in the blink of an eye. Ben never waited long before loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt, welcoming any semblance of a breeze that managed to wind it way through the trees and across campus. He wrinkled his sleeves by pushing them up to his elbow, fucking with the smooth lines of the fabric as he untucked the hem. Historically, he ever hated a uniform more than when it got warm, but lately he figured the sight of the Academy’s crest and colors was likely to piss him off regardless of the weather.

As soon as he stepped out of Civics, he tugged at the knot of his tie until he felt less suffocated by it. It was the end of the day and if a nun wanted to give him trouble for showing a lack of respect for a piece of fabric, then they were more than welcome to do so. Ben had lost any and all capability of giving a minutiae of a shit. He was quick to stick his earbuds in, queuing up the new Blood Orange mixtape in an attempt to drown out the conversations that filled the hallway. People still talking about the power outage, about the long-dead bear, about a weird noise they might have maybe heard in the middle of the night. It all seemed like a waste of time and breath. Ben lacked the energy to involve himself with it, to really involve himself with anything. He was content to just let Dev Hynes and Toro y Moi tell him what they knew about loss. But a tinny voice managed to break way through the steady beat and Ben felt a prickle at the back of his neck, the instinctual and disappointing knowledge that he was the one being spoken to.

Ben tugged at the wire that connected his earbuds to his phone just hard enough to pull them out of his ears, letting them dangle from his fingers by his side. He inhaled deeply, then let out his breath on a sigh. “Sorry, missed that. You say something?”

“Fuckin’ hell, I said, didn’t expect to see you wanderin’ the halls with all them teeth still in your mouth, no broken bones either by the looks of things,” she repeated herself now that Ben could hear her properly, “The size of the balls on you,” she emphasized, clearly impressed by the fact though she still thought he was a complete idiot, “If I was in your shoes, mate, I’d be joining the Royal Navy, on the first ship out of the nearest port and headed as far the fuck away from here as I could possibly get,” she spoke, using her hand darting through the air to represent the sailing vessel she had pictured in her head. “Don’t you know Gwen’s got it in for you? You’re officially off her Christmas Card list and if you’re not careful, I think she might knock you down with her car, given the chance,” she straightened Ben’s tie where it was hanging a little crooked around his neck but then gave it a little tug, “-or she might just use this but she’s creative that girl, loves a bit of flair, don’t she?” she laughed at the thought, “Either way, you’re in big trouble lad, big trouble with a capital T, you are fucked good,” she wasn’t bothered by Ben’s banishing, she didn’t like any of Gwen’s pals all that much anyway. “What song would you like us to play at your funeral?” she asked with a perfectly trimmed eyebrow raised, “Assuming they can find enough pieces of your body to even have one,”

“They’re basically one and the same thing.” Gwen eyeballed Flick like she was the dumbest person in the room. She’d never had a mental breakdown of her own, not the kind where you pulled your hair out in a grocery store or killed your best friend, anyway, but the hospital had been full of sad cases at the time she was admitted. Still, nothing quite Edith Lynch standard. 

Gwen’s eyes went back to the grounds out the window. No, it wasn’t a bad thing she wanted to say, but her gut told her differently. With everything going on with Damian now, she felt like something new and big had begun, and the fact that the year was ending before she knew it only put pressure on the change to feel more prominent than it did. She wasn’t ready for it to be over yet, because it had only just started. “You just want to go back to London.” She said instead in an attempt to pin Flick in her honesty instead of coddling the feel-better attempt. “I mean, I don’t blame you,” Gwen turned around again, tightening her arm-fold. “I always said you probably weren’t going to make it here.” A flippant comment that wasn’t really all true, in fact, Gwen had been the one pushing for Flick to transfer to begin with. All doubt had been argued with an iron fist until her cousin had given in and ultimately become her lackey.

She gave Flick a look when she insulted Ben. As angry as she’d been with him lately, he still had been her best friend and it was a tender topic. It was evident that Flick and Ben had never quite seen eye to eye, but they had made good flanks. Until they hadn’t.

“Well, God, if you know one don’t hog him to yourself, I’m open to suggestions.” She replied, although her taste was particularly picky so she’d have been quite surprised if Flick already had a nominee. “I did offer Damian to sit with us though,” She said it bluntly, casually, as if it was as normal of an offer as it was to skip lunch today for the gym. “Izzy DeSantis too, I said, he’s fine when he’s not speaking directly to anybody. A rear in a seat, sort of thing. Besides, I think it’s important to have allies in strange places.” Of course, in a strange sense, Izzy was her ally. Nobody had to know it, but he was and he had been all this time. “Faith wasn’t invited though,” She informed. “Sharing a room with her has certifiably confirmed that if she comes near me at any other time of day, I might actually have to cut her ponytail off to teach her that’ no means no.”

After a moment, Gwen smiled. “So if Damian and Izzy come sit with us tonight, don’t freak out. It’s probably not forever, it’s just payback. For some things.” And she would leave it at that.

Flick had almost believed for a moment or two that she and her cousin were about to level with one another. That for a moment, Gwen was considering Flick’s feelings and even empathizing with them, something she wasn’t convinced that her cousin was capable of. Then it came. The punchline. Flick’s jaw tightened but she tried her best not to let Gwen know that the jab had absolutely landed, practically hitting her square in the nose. “You’re right, you know- I just can’t make heads or tails of it, can I? Back home, the most popular boys in school are proper fit, worth squillions and they know how to have a good time. They’ve got the whole package goin’ for ‘em and it’s just not the same here, innit? Makes no sense to me- but I suppose you’ve got to work with what you’ve got and if what you’ve got is a bunch of god lovin’ mummy’s boys with acceptably straight teeth and half a portion of a personality then you’ve got to pick the best of the bunch,” she shrugged her shoulders, speaking as if she wasn’t born and bred in Liverpool where lads thought that a fresh pair of Reeboks were perfect for formal occasions and a good measure of character was how well you could kick a football, “- and that’s not a dig at you or nothing,” except that it was, “It is what it is, I just suppose I’ve been learned with higher expectations, higher standards or summat like that, I just can’t get on with settling for less,” she knew exactly what she was saying but pretended she hadn’t noticed the razor-sharp barbs sticking out of each of her words. “Anyway, it’s not important, all that, is it?” if it wasn’t, she wouldn’t have mentioned it but she pretended not to notice that either, “We’re here, doin’ what we can. At least we’ve got each other,” she offered with a smile and a wink.

"Did you now?” she felt her stomach turn ever so slightly as she recalled every insult she’d ever thrown at Damian in private and the fact that now she’d have to sit across from him and play nice in an effort to keep Gwen from jamming her eyes with forks at lunchtime. She raised an eyebrow at the mention of payback, trying to work it out. Payback for what? Was Faith even the target? She realized she’d been silent for a moment too long and simply nodded her head, sometimes it was best to just agree with Gwen, particularly when Flick had sufficiently stepped out of line for the afternoon already. “As long as Maggie isn’t coming with them, I couldn’t care less. Rather stick pins in my eyes than spend a minute longer with that child than I already have to- I swear to God she speaks in tongues when I’m asleep,” she didn’t know that for sure but she had dreamt about it once.

Domenico smirked, yeah a catfight with Gwen and Louisa would have been a fight to behold. Oh well, next time they will be luckier… 

He shrugged when she dismissed the humor. Yeah sure.

“Sounds catchy.” Well truth was that fraud or not Nico was forced to stay there another year or so, there was no way he could find his way in another school with the same kind of visibility or contacts as Broadripple. So who cares if they found dead bears or whatever, it was his golden ticket and he was going to stick to it. 

“What do you think they are covering up? I mean the sisters have been shifty, but they don’t look like the conspiracy types.” He mused. 

The boy chuckled. “I have to bow to age and experience then.” He grinned, it could be fun game to play. Besides hanging with senior girls could be fun, even if he had little to no chance of scoring with Flick, all things considered. Besides, he was not in the mood anyway, not with the mess with Ella. Fuck, wasn’t he supposed to go on this little adventure not to think about her? 

He followed the girl out of the building, probably they would not find anything particularly out of the ordinary, but who knew right? “So what’s our next move?”

“Cheers,” Flick mused absently, hardly proud of the term given the implication it carried with it. She was nowhere near pleased that the school had turned out to be so deceitful and strange. Gwen, as well as Flick’s aunt and uncle, had most certainly not mentioned that during the process of convincing her that spending her senior year in Massachusettes instead of with her close friends in London was an excellent idea. A load of bollock that had turned out to be, on almost every front.

She pressed her lips together, furrowing her brow ever so slightly as she considered the query for a moment or two, “Couldn’t be sure,” she admitted, she had her theories of course and the rest of the rag-tag group that called themselves Broadripple Unsolved had some even wilder theories. They were exclusive to club members, however, and Flick wouldn’t dare share them with an outsider. “Summat fucked, that’s as clear as the nose on your face,” she confirmed with confidence, no doubt in her mind. 

“Age, experience, beauty, brains, you can bow to all of it if you like,” she teased obnoxiously, talking herself up a little in the process without any semblance of shame in her tone as she started wandering down the stairs, toward the outside. “Thought I’d see if the kitchen was planning on getting rid of any old bananas today so I can make some banana bread for the girls in my class,” she spoke deadpan in response to Nico’s question, “- what the fuck do you think our next move is?” her tone shifted as she made it clear that Nico was asking a ridiculous question, which was why she was giving him a ridiculous answer, “Obviously, we’re goin’ to the bloody tape thing to see what’s goin’ on over there, see why it’s all shut up and all that,”

Domenico chuckled at Flick’s description of what had transpired during her night. “Must have been a sight to behold.” Yeah his ex and his house captain were not exactly besties weren’t they? 

“It’s a miracle you are all alive.” He teased. 

“Thanks.” He nodded. “After tonight it might be one.” He grinned, yeah at least he had managed to scrape most of the scent form himself, the clothes he was wearing that night hadn’t been that lucky. In fact, Nico had decided that no way he was going to wear them again, forcing him to throw most of the stuff away. 

“Besides, the place should be renamed Stinkripple or something, I mean, once is enough, but twice?  This is supposed to be a fucking private school.” He mused, yeah not that he was paying a dime, as his scholarship covered the expenses, but he knew that tuition was by far not cheap; it seemed a bit weird for these kinds of accidents to happen.

“Well I thought that was going to be your role actually.” He teased, a playful look in his eyes. “But I can work with that.” The young man smiled, yeah sneaking around the sisters place to investigate was definitely going to be the distraction he was looking for. “Lead the way o mighty leader.” He bowed slightly and pointed toward the door, smirking.

“Summat like that, yeah,” she agreed, shrugging a shoulder casually. It was far less of a bloodbath than she’d anticipated but she supposed that was supposed to be a good thing.

She quirked an eyebrow at his attempt at humor, hoping he didn’t plan on a career in comedy in the near future, “I’d keep working on it lad, Broadnipple is way funnier than that- and with all this coverup bullshit any time something out of the ordinary happens, I’ve already taken to calling it Fraudripple,” she noted, she wasn’t going to pretend that the school wasn’t blatantly trying to deceive them when the members of Broadripple Unsolved had already gathered enough evidence to inform the fact that they were.

“Not a chance of that, pal. I can tell you that for free,” Flick assured her companion for the afternoon, “I’m older than you and I’d be taller than you in heels, you’re my sidekick,” she was confident in her statement, tipping her chin a little. Standing flat they were the same height, if her boots had any more of a heel to them she’d be looking down her nose at the junior. She kind of wished she’d thought of that sooner, now that it came to mind. She smirked to herself at the thought, he was sidekick material, indeed. “Let’s get a wriggle on then, before I change my mind,” she encouraged, he was on thin ice with her as it was, purely because of their run-in in the girl’s dormitory and the fact that he was Gwen’s leftovers.