a curious girl, a wanderer

“Thanks,” Jen breathes with a grin, their cheeks flushing from both the compliment and the alcohol. They’re expecting a lot of road blocks if they switch back to the Foxes, but one of the biggest is they’ll miss dancing. When they took that dance class in high school, they fell in love with it. While it still had structure, it didn’t feel as stifling as Exy did. It’s why they used to watch the Vixens perform with envy. But is dancing enough to make up for the lack of scholarship, missing their teammates, and failing their classes? Maybe, they can pick up a dance minor. 

Jen rests their hands on Mckenna’s shoulders to help steady her, silently praying they didn’t just make her sick. “Are you okay?” They ask with a laugh. “I can go get you some water or maybe we can go get some fresh air,” They offer.  They should probably slow down too if they want to last the rest of the night,

         She gave compliments all the time—maybe too often. So at this point, she didn’t know that complimenting anyone was anything more than second nature to her. Or if what she said even mattered to people. Luckily, Jen seemed appreciative of the comment, so she just smiled back. McKenna felt more free tonight. She likes this feeling and always has. It’s such a contrast to living with her grandparents. They’d have never let her do anything like she was doing right now. McKenna could have never come home drunk—she could only imagine what her grandparents would think of her right now. The thing was, that they couldn’t complain about her. She might be a cheerleader, doing things they’d never approve of, but McKenna still had good grades. So how could they be angry at her? “You’re welcome,” she giggled.

         “Yeah, I’m good. Little too much to drink,” she mutters, nodding. Even after a year with the Vixens, this was probably as wild as she got. Alanna told her it was never too late for her to have a wild sophomore year and she supposed that was true. As long as she didn’t flunk her classes, she could afford to get a little less uptight. “I don’t really… drink much.” She leans on Jen more. “Hmmm. Maybe some fresh air,” the blonde responds. She was fine. She just wasn’t used to this. Drinking and dancing. How did people do stuff like this all the time? “Do you mind? I’m sure I’d be fine on my own, but if you want to stay here you can?” her words are all slurring together.

McKenna’s admission is painfully familiar, even if it shouldn’t be. Technically, Alanna had friends in high school, at least for a few brief moments—but as glorious as they’d felt at the time, she doesn’t think of them as her friends now. Doesn’t think they ever were, not really. Not when she looks back. Not with the way it all ended. 

Once upon a time she’d missed them even still though, once she changed schools, once she learned to keep her head down rather than risk the alternative. And yes, true friends, she knows, don’t turn on another like that. They’d been quick to destroy her once it seemed like the best way into Ava’s favor—or maybe they’d wanted to do that all along, and they’d just waited for Alanna to do something to deserve it in their eyes. Alanna also knows that if it weren’t for the Vixens, she might’ve ended up there all over again, might’ve gone out for the football cheer squad rather than nothing at all and been the one throwing eggs at the Den.

As horrible as it was even before her old squad turned on her, when their friendship came in the form of competition and jealousy, it was still better than being alone. Whatever lesson she was supposed to learn in high school, she hasn’t fully. She’s only found a better squad to belong to wholeheartedly now.

“Well, you’ve got friends now,” Alanna promises McKenna, with a smile. “And it’s not too late to have a wild sophomore year,” she teases, because it’s McKenna, and she doesn’t know if her roommate’s got anything wild in her at all. Not that Alanna’s any better. For all her late nights at parties or the shots she knocks back before Cade can say anything, she still feels unbearably young beneath it all. She still misses her mom more often than not, as if this distance is brand new rather than nearly a year old. 

“Of course I’ll help you pick something out,” Alanna says, eager as always to help. She doesn’t want to give McKenna a chance to change her mind either—the sooner they can get McKenna out into the party, the better. Even if Alanna has to spend the entire night reminding her that it’s okay to enjoy herself once in a while. “What’s the mood for tonight? Fun? Casual? Sexy?”

         Of course, McKenna had good friends now. It’s funny that something that ruined her life in high school, could make her feel so happy now. She’s never really talked about cheering in high school. She’s never discussed the bullying or any of the negative things that happened to her because her grandparents wanted her to be perfect. McKenna’s discussed them with Betsy, but never with the Vixens and Foxes. It doesn’t always seem right to bring it up. So many of them have had more tragic lives. Betsy keeps telling her that her trauma is still trauma though. That while her grandparents loved her, how they treated her wasn’t alright—even if they loved her. So, she doesn’t talk about what she’s been through. Not even with Alanna.

         The Vixens had given her something to be happy about. She had goals now. Her freshman year was her flying blind. Not knowing what she wanted to do with her life because all she cared about was not messing up. She watched people get so wild they flunked out of school—and McKenna knew she couldn’t let herself be like that. She was determined not to make mistakes. To be free, but not give anyone an opportunity to kick her out of the school, to send her back to Kansas. That determination sometimes made her feel a bit too boring. Like maybe she should try harder to be more like her mom. The blonde didn’t want to be like that though.

         She smiles at Alanna. “I know,” she says, feeling slightly awkward admitting that she didn’t have friends before. “I love you, you know.” At the beginning of the year, she’d have been so afraid to admit that, especially when it was said in a friendship way. Those sorts of emotions left a person vulnerable and while McKenna had never been hurt, she’d never experienced love at all. “But I don’t have a wild bone in my body. I’m not my mom.” It’ll be weird to go back to Kansas this summer. She doesn’t know how she’s going to handle being at home, but one thing was for sure, and that’s how determined she was to not let anyone else tell her who she’s supposed to be. Maybe she’ll even be brave enough to come out to her grandparents. 

         “Umm… I donno. How’s the mood down there?” The point of the party wasn’t really to party. The Foxes had to be more concerned about the game than actually letting loose. “Fun, I guess? I know Rosie thinks I can pull off sexy, but I can’t.” McKenna says it with a laugh. She opens her closet to reveal the majority of her wardrobe, clothes neatly hung up by type of material, then color. It’s not like she can borrow anything from Alanna, who is much shorter than her. 

“That’s right,” Jen yells over the music as they hand Mckenna the extra slice. The original idea was to keep making their rounds to make sure everyone got a slice in case they missed the delivery. It seemed like a brilliant idea at the time, but it took a lot of bobbing and weaving to get over here, and going back will be just as hard, so they nix the idea just as quickly as they came up with it. Also, Jen can’t just say no to dancing. 

“Yeah, of course,” They grin and take Mckenna’s hand in theirs to lead her to a good spot in the designated dance area. Once settled, they sway happily to the beat while finishing their slice. Everyone’s good moods are contagious, and it’s such a breath of fresh air after everyone just went home after the last game. It might not look great for the rest of the Championships, but the fact that they get to move forward and find out is huge. Akira saved them from being booted, and at some point Jen needs to make sure he also gets a slice of pizza.

For now, they turn their attention to Mckenna, wishing they had enough hands to also bring them drinks, but they take advantage of their free hands by offering to twirl her. “You were really great during half time!” They compliment her, raising their voice over the music. Even if they’re not a Vixen next year, they’ll always value their time on the squad and how much they learned from their more experienced teammates. Jen’s only real experience was that dance class they took, but they feel like they’ve improved a lot. 

         The blonde giggled as she grabbed the slice. This might be the best Fox party she’d been to all year. The entire team had to be excited they were moving on, even if they weren’t here to celebrate. She knew the Vixens were just as proud of them as well. Since all her responsibilities were taken care of, McKenna had no reason to go back to her room and go to sleep. She decided to join her friends and have a fun night with everyone. None of them knew what the rest of the season held, but the Foxes were moving on. They had done it and she wanted to celebrate with them.

         Lately a part of her felt like she was holding back from her friends. As if she was going back to her old self. Her fall semester had been a better balance between fun and responsibilities. This semester seemed to be off balance. She didn’t know what changed other than her mom’s current drama and the want to not be like anyone in her family. McKenna hoped that the rest of the semester she wouldn’t feel like this. That someone would help her balance things out again until the school year ended. That way she could come back to her squad next school year after a good summer break.

         She grinned as Jen complimented her, feeling happy that someone took notice. “Thanks! You’re always amazing as well.” She giggled and twirled. McKenna hadn’t been part of her cheer squad for long in high school. She hadn’t even taken dance as a little girl. She took a few classes when she was with her mom, they always ended up moving before she could learn that much though. Her grandparents had given her the choice of doing ballet, but she wanted to learn jazz and tap more than anything else. She’s improved a lot, put in tons of extra work just so she doesn’t make a fool of herself. “Oof, I’m getting dizzy from the spinning,” she muttered, stopping in the middle of the dance floor. 

“Totally fun,” Alanna says. “It’s all the Vixens and its a Friday night, how could it not be fun?” She finally tracks down the outfit she’s looking for and Alanna heads towards the bathroom, fresh skirt and shirt in her hands. “One sec, I’ll tell you more about it,” she says, before vanishing to change. 

It’s silly, she knows—she’s changed in the locker room with the rest of the Vixens hundreds of times, but even then, she’s as perfunctory as she can be. She doesn’t want people to look over and see her without the shield of a uniform or flashy clothes and flashier makeup. Maybe it’s a relic of her old squad, the way they’d use any opportunity to tear one another down—locker rooms and weigh-ins included. Vulnerability, of any kind, was dangerous.

When Alanna emerges again, her new outfit safely on and her makeup touched up in the process, the rest of McKenna’s statement has belatedly registered. “You’ve got all weekend to finish your homework,” Alanna points out, as she throws the rejected dress into her laundry bag for now. “I mean, if you’re too slammed to hang, I get it,” Alanna says. With her own horrible grades, she can hardly fault McKenna for being focused. 

There’s got to be a middle ground though—McKenna could stand to have more fun and maybe Alanna could stand to have less. She’s not going to change her tune tonight though, when the Vixens are the ones hosting the event. “But if you decide to take a break, come find me! We should have a drink together. I’ll even let you choose what. There’s beers, ciders, shots, and soda. We’re like, completely stocked up out there.”

         Alanna says the party’s fun, which makes her feel even more miserable that she isn’t there. School is just too much and McKenna’s growing frustrated with her classes. She’s tired and annoyed. And why was math required to graduate? The blonde’s already spoken to her adviser and declared a major, which makes the end of her final semester of general education credits even more final. Realistically, she can change her major, she doesn’t want to. She wants to help people, she wants to teach. Which means she needs to buckle down and focus on her classes.

         When her roommate leaves to change, McKenna looks down at the whole page and a half of problems she hasn’t even begun to solve. A night away from this seems like way more fun than sitting and doing all these problems. What she really needs is someone to pull her away from homework. Betsy’s told her several times that she needs to break to have fun—but how can she when she was told that she needed to work hard before she could do the things she enjoyed when she was growing up? McKenna knows that she can burn out like this; though she has practice and games to pull her away from homework, so it can’t be that bad.

         “That’s true, but can I really do homework tomorrow after staying up really late?” Alanna told her exactly what she needed to hear. McKenna’s heard the same words come out of Betsy’s mouth. She brushes the hair from her face. “Sometimes I feel guilty for enjoying myself at parties when I have so many more productive things I could be doing with that time.” Product of living with her grandparents—of being forced to be responsible. She’s had her share of fun this year. She’s partied with the Vixens and Foxes, learned some things about herself, and had a lot of fun. There comes a time when she’s got to buckle down and be responsible though.

         After a second, she pushed herself away from her desk and sat up. “I never did the whole, wild freshman thing. I never even really had friends until I joined the Vixens.” That might be too deep of a statement for a night that was supposed to be fun. Hopefully, Alanna got the meaning though. The Vixens and Foxes were her friends now, and she didn’t have to be alone anymore. She looked around her room. “Want to help me find something to wear?” she couldn’t show up to a Vixen party in her pajamas. 

Location: Fox Party Date: Friday, March 29 Time: Late Night (open)

When Wmyack told them all to enjoy the night, Jen took it to heart. While the Foxes didn’t win, they’re acting like they did, and Jen is reveling in it. That’s part of being a Vixen, just kind of going with the mood of the team they cheer for. They’re grateful there’s a party tonight, because it’s always a little disappointing when they spend their away games in their hotel rooms, especially in a cool city like Chicago. 

The night is kind of a blur, but Jen knows they spent the majority of it dancing between celebratory shots. Now their skin is tacky with sweat, and their makeup is smeared underneath their eyes, but they’re the kind of drunk where everything is too fun to worry about little things like that. At some point, someone must’ve ordered a pizza, because now Jen has a slice of Chicago pizza in each hand, one for themself and one to pass on to anyone who may need it. 

They weave through the crowd, shaking their hips to the beat as they navigate their way around the room until they bump into someone. “Pizza delivery!” Jen exclaims as they hold up the slice they haven’t bitten into yet. “It’s important to soak up the alcohol, and I hear it’s against the law to go to Chicago without eating pizza so…” Jen ungracefully shoves the slice in their direction, a too big smile on their flushed face. 

         McKenna didn’t need to be told twice to enjoy the night. Even if the Foxes hadn’t won, she was planning on celebrating their victory in the championships. She was proud of them—proud to call herself a Vixen. She loved cheering for the Foxes and every time she watched them, she was more amazed that at the way they played. Fox games were always something different. While McKenna was still learning all the other teams and players on other teams, for the most part she was starting to understand Exy and she loved it. There was something so fundamentally interesting about it—or maybe it was just the Foxes. Her team might have lost the game tonight, but it was still a chance to celebrate. The season wasn’t over. McKenna’s heart soared with pride.

         She doesn’t even know where she is. The break of nothing but practices was helpful for her to catch up on homework. So she was celebrating with her team tonight. Happy and thankful that they all weren’t sad about a loss and not moving on. The blonde barely remembers anything past her first couple shots. Dancing and drinking with the rest of her squad and the Foxes. Sometime soon, she’d have to call it a night—McKenna was exhausted and after a long day with delays and everything, she doesn’t know how much more partying she can handle.

         She’d giggling when Jen comes up to her, pizza in hand. For once she’s not thinking about what the team must look like to outsiders, what she looks like to outsiders. The blonde wants to have fun, to enjoy this night for what it is. She’s not thinking about her grandparents or her mom. She’s not even thinking about the freedom Palmetto’s given her or how she would have never gotten away with something like this back home. The Vixen’s mind is filled with love, with pride, with happiness, and that’s far more important than anything else. “Is that so?” she asks with a giggle, wiggling her eyebrows at Jen as she dances along with the music. “I guess I’m just legally required to take it.” She takes a bite of the pizza in their hands before taking it from them. “’S good. Dance with me!” 

The party’s only just begun when Alanna spills a beer on her dress. She isn’t drunk—this was only her first drink, thanks very much, and most of it spilled out before she ever got to it—she’s just clumsy, but that almost makes it more disappointing. Especially when she’d painstakingly laid out her outfit this morning and now it’s ruined for the evening. 

Thankfully, hosting the party means she can rush back to her room to quickly find something new without missing much. Their room is quiet, empty save for McKenna and her books, and with a quick hi, sorry, Alanna makes her way to her own disorganized closet. It takes longer than she’d like to choose a new outfit, and in the process, Alanna can’t help but chat away to her roommate. 

“I know, I know you’re busy. I just have to change real quick and you’ve got the place to yourself again,” she says, sorting through her skirts for her favorite one. She’s almost positive it’s clean. It would help if she ever got rid of clothes, but she’s still got things she hasn’t worn in years, unwilling or unable to part with them just in case. Her mom raised her to reuse though, to sew on patches and stitch holes and make things work for as long as they physically could. Alanna wouldn’t be caught dead in those old, torn things now, but she can’t bring herself to throw them out either. “How’s the studying going? You gonna take a break later and join us?”

         McKenna didn’t think that she was antisocial, sometimes she forgot that she was surrounded by people who wouldn’t judge her. She hadn’t been a Vixen for very long and it was a completely different experience than her high school cheer squad had been. She knew that her squad would never judge her for certain things, like her sexuality and who she was as a person. But she forgot that they were her friends and people she trusted, people that were there to help her. The semester was rough, with the championships and her schoolwork. McKenna didn’t feel like she had the energy to be around people like she usually did. She just didn’t want people to judge how frazzled she looked and felt. Especially since she felt like she had so much to do and every second of the day was already crammed with things.

         When Alanna walks in, she looked up and smiles, brushing the hair that had fallen in front of her face away. “No, you can stay as long as you want. It’s your room too.” McKenna had two years of getting used to living with a roommate and it wasn’t horrible. As a kid, she was used to a bunch of people crowded in whatever house or place her mom had found for them to stay. Though she was still little when she moved into her grandparent’s house and there she’d been alone. Having a roommate sometimes was still strange. Though Alanna was by far strides better than her roommate last year, so McKenna wasn’t going to complain. She watches her roommate for a moment. “Oh, um, maybe I guess?” she shrugs. “I’ve got so much to do and I feel so… overwhelmed.” McKenna sighs and puts her pen down. “Is it… fun?” The Vixen didn’t know if she really wanted that to be answered because she wanted to be missing the fun. 

location: airport ( after first delay ) date: march 29th closed for: @mckennamonroe​

Restlessness is quick to overtake them at the news of the delay. Quite frankly, if they were to actually acknowledge the dread seeping through their veins, they would properly label it as anxiety. They’ve never enjoyed being thrown off schedule, and as much as they love to claim they’re adaptable on the field, that doesn’t translate well anywhere else. The knowledge the team will be pressed for time due to the delay doesn’t place them in the best of moods.

But they can’t fucking go anywhere. They’ve walked the length of the floor already, and they’re not itching to snatch something at the food court. So they’re stuck at the terminal, pacing over and over and over.

Which is unbearable to do as much as it must be to watch. So after a few minutes, they plop to the floor, stretching their legs out and leaning forward. 

“Someone, anyone, please tell me the way I can improve my flexibility within an hour?”

         McKenna doesn’t mind the delay as much as some people do, but she doesn’t have much to do with her. She had finished her schoolwork very early in the week with no classes to worry about. Her grandparents had asked why she wasn’t coming home for spring break and she had to lie to them, saying that she was behind on homework and wanted to catch up, then she and some friends were going to take a road trip. None of it was entirely a lie, but she felt bad for it not being the truth. One day she was going to have to tell them the truths she’d been hiding from them all year. That wasn’t going to be today.

         Many of the Foxes and Vixens had scattered, finding their own things to do, but McKenna was one of the few that stayed by the terminal. She wanted to know the news for when they’d be allowed to board. It’d make her feel better, even though she wasn’t anxious. McKenna didn’t like being trapped in the airport, just as much as any of the more anxious teammates and Foxes were. But if she knew when they were leaving, she could ease some of the tensions of her friends that had walked off. She sat in her seat, hair cascading in front of her face. She should have brought something to do.

         When River spoke, she looked up and smiled softly at them. “In an hour?” she questioned. “That’s not… possible? But I can show you some stuff that if you do it daily, it’ll improve your flexibility.” McKenna stood up and joined River on the floor. “If you’re interested.”

         Lately, McKenna had been stressing over schoolwork more than she meant to be. Spring semester, no matter what, seemed to be more stressful in general than fall semester—for whatever reason. Her classes seemed to be harder, or maybe it was just that she was towards the last little bit of general education credits taking slightly more difficult classes. Combined with Vixen practice as well as Fox games, her time for studying seemed almost non-existent. Or so it felt like. She probably was stressing over nothing because she clearly was doing well in her classes. McKenna felt like she had too much to do at any given moment. Without a game this week, she’d been looking forward to a quiet weekend to herself to just chill and maybe get ahead on her reading, until the watch party was announced. She felt like a bad person for wanting to skip it, the Vixen didn’t think she had the time to spare.

         But she was at least going to stop by for a little bit so that she could seem social. The rest of the Foxes and Vixens piled into the Den to party and watch the game. Eventually, McKenna excuses herself and heads up to her room. She hoped that she didn’t seem rude by going back so early. With everyone more focused on the game, the party was less wild than a usual one—everyone wanted to be clear of mind when the time for the game came. Maybe it would get more wild later, after the game, when the Foxes knew of what their next game would entail. She settled into her desk, book in front of her and laptop open beside her as she highlighted portions of the text to use in the essay. If someone came into the room, she wouldn’t have noticed, too focus on her own work.

Glory’s tattoos are small things, black ink scattered from her fingers to the inside of her wrist to her inner arm to her shoulderblade to her hipbone. When she’s bored in class, which is frequently, she doodles on herself, temporary ink to match the more permanent fixtures, but she hasn’t given herself a new tattoo yet—the last one she did is the one that no one really sees, except for flashes when she’s changing in the locker room, the fox paw she did during summer practices. 

It had felt sudden and impulsive, then, but she’d wanted to ink Palmetto into her skin. Everything else on her was a memory, and she wanted something to say: this is where I am now. To make it a part of her, in a way she never had in Louisville. 

“If you win?” She repeats with a raised eyebrow. She’s beginning to think that McKenna doesn’t know how bets work. If, by the terms that McKenna’s agreeing to, Glory gets an opportunity to embarrass her no matter what the outcome of the game is. Because Glory doesn’t fuck around with bets. If that’s what McKenna wants when—(because, even if she ended up with the Sundevils in their wager, she’s not holding her breath for them to pull ahead, even if the game seems close right now)—the Buckeyes win, then Glory isn’t going to go easy on her. It’s gonna be Fox Orange, baby. 

But, still, she offers her one more out: “If you want to dye your hair that bad, I’ll help you do it. No bet required.” 

         She’s always vaguely wondered if she’ll ever be as confident as someone like Glory—but then maybe what she has isn’t exactly confidence. When she has always been made to feel ashamed of the person she was, never exactly what her mom wanted and not what her grandparents wanted either, she was quietly herself now instead of proudly announcing to the world who she was. Maybe one day she could be herself in the easy way that some people could. The loudest she got was wearing her Vixen uniform and her backpack with the pride flags pinned onto it. People like her weren’t made to be loud. They were meant to follow rules and be exactly what their guardians wanted them to be. McKenna didn’t want to be like that though, and she was breaking free of the weight that had been put on her to be perfect.

         To her, people like Glory were amazing. With her bleached hair and tattoos and wildness. She felt tame in comparison, though maybe that wasn’t all a bad thing. She wanted to ask about the tattoos, their meanings, if they had any. With all the changes in her life recently, she wondered if she’d ever feel like something mattered enough to get it tattooed—if anything in her life was truly permanent. Right now, she was a Vixen, a lesbian, a girl who wanted to help people like herself and the Foxes, but all that could change. Would she ever want a reminder of who she was now stuck forever when she was still growing as a person? Or was that the point?

         “Well—I mean. I don’t really want to take anything from you and that seems easier than, you know most anything else.” McKenna didn’t know how to bet. She clearly was in over her head in a situation like this and Glory could probably tell. “It’s college though. That’s the whole point of like… being here. Doing something new.” She’d never dyed her hair before, other than with the chalky stuff that came out after a wash. “I donno what else to even ask for,” she scrunched her nose. “Besides, if I have to walk around as like a highlighter for a bit, I wouldn’t mind.”

What makes you think I don’t want a tattoo? McKenna says and, in that moment, reminds Glory of herself, however many years ago in Owls Bend, when she first fell in with her group of friends. She’d been a loner for so long, in the woods alone, and all of a sudden she felt like everyone around her had grown up and left her behind, left her scrambling to catch up. She’d been like this, then, like some puffed up cat, creating dares where there weren’t any, trying not to be laughed at, seen as too childish or too young. 

The tattoos hadn’t come until Louisville, when she’d needed a new habit to make up for her old ones. All the ink on her is home-done, and it shows in the fuzziness of the lines, the simplicity of the designs—always a little clumsy, even if they’d been done with painstaking care. Even Glory would prefer for her ink to be professionally done, instead of by herself or some temporary friend in a foster care bathroom. She’s been saving her money for a bigger design, one that’s elaborate and colorful, but when all the money she has is the meager stipend she gets for being a Fox, she doesn’t have very much money to save.

“But do you want me to give you one?” She counters, with an amused quirk to her mouth. “Jab you with a needle for a couple of hours? That’s a lotta trust to put in someone you don’t even know. And I’m not even much of an artist.” 

But it’s moot anyway, McKenna claims the Buckeyes—which seems like it should be unfair, since it’s on Glory’s word—and so it probably won’t matter if she wants a tattoo or not, if she can scrounge anything from her purse for Glory or not, even though Glory watches her dig through it and come up empty handed—though how she could, Glory doesn’t know. Glory used to play poker in foster care, she knows all about betting dollars and packs of gum, lighters and lip gloss. She’s sure that if McKenna dumped her purse out, there would be plenty in there that Glory would want, even if McKenna doesn’t seen anything valuable in it.

“You can take that as my price if you want,” she says. “But now you have to decide what you want from me if you win.” 

         Growing up, she knew exactly what people thought about her. Poor little McKenna, her mom had her so young and wasn’t ready for the responsibility; her grandparents better watch out, or she’ll end up just the same. Her whole life people expected her to be something, treated her like something she wasn’t. Her mom thought they were friends, her grandparents thought she was a liar, people at school thought she was just the school freak. Everyone thought they knew her without actually figuring out who she was, and it was annoying. Even now, McKenna felt that people expected her to be someone. And sure, maybe she was slightly predictable, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t down to have fun, try something new every so often. She didn’t want to be boring.

         It was funny to think that her only rebellious thing in life was joining a crappy high school cheerleading squad, thinking that they’d accept her, when it was against her grandparent’s wishes. And in a way also applying to Palmetto was an act of rebellion. But unlike some people, it was tame. She didn’t have a really wild streak like some of the Foxes and Vixens. Honestly, that was fine with her some days, but then there were other days where she wished she could be more like them. She wanted to do things without a care in the world and be as confident as some of the people she knew. Instead, she was still fiercely herself, while being quiet about it.

         “No, I suppose not,” she says slowly, as if she is truly contemplating if that’s the worst thing. I’d be a story for when she was older, a reminder of her wild college days that still weren’t that wild. Maybe it’d be fun. She had no idea. Even contemplating this, she thought of her grandparent’s reactions to it and how appalled they’d be over it. The Vixen didn’t care about that anymore. If they didn’t accept her, then they didn’t. As soon as college ended, she’d be on her own. She could be on her own now too if she wanted. What mattered was how she felt about the decisions she made. “But I do want a tattoo. I just don’t know what yet.”

         It didn’t really feel fair to claim a team that was slated to win, though she didn’t care much about that. This was all in good fun, she expected, rather than for an actual gain. And besides, there was always a chance the underdog team could win. After all, there were so many movies about that. “How about…” she thought for a second. “If I win, you can pick a color for me to dye my hair.” If that’s really as wild as she got right now, then she’d take it. At least it’d be a little fun if she ended up with teal hair for a bit.

“I try not to make it a habit to read it,” he admits. He rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of red crawling up his neck. Guilt and embarrassment were nasty creatures, threatening to twist his words if he isn’t careful. “It’s rare occasions, and I definitely don’t want to give them extra clicks, but —- I don’t know, saying, like, I’m checking just to make sure it’s all false sounds weird and a waste of time. And that sucks as much as the site existing, you know?”

He sits back then, listening to McKenna. the only person you can control is you. how you react to how the world sees you is in your control. And despite himself, despite how unnecessary it is in the moment, sadness aches in his chest. It’s a lesson learned from awful experiences, and while it’s a good one to have in the long journey of life, he hates that McKenna understands it.

He hates that he knows it all too well.

“That makes sense. And it aides in becoming the best version of ourselves. We can only go through life one day at a time, and knowing when to hold on to what we can control, and let go of what we can’t, is essential, yeah?”

         “Same here. I mean I don’t check it at all anymore.” She’d stopped reading FoxWatch after they’d posted about her during the Halloween party. It was her business if she kissed Rosie, her business if she was gay. She’d spent too long trying to get people to like her that didn’t matter and now she had the sense to be herself because that’s what mattered most. Not everyone thought like that though. She understood the temptation to care about the gossip site. “I think I just spent too much time caring what people thought of me in high school and now that I’m surrounded by people that actually care about me, I don’t find it as tempting. Does it really matter what some random person online thinks about you when you’ve got a house full of people cheering you on?” she asked.

         It had taken such a long time for her to be the person she was now. McKenna was still learning how to be the person that was proud of who she was. There was still part of her that knew she was still figuring some things out, a lot of things really. She wanted her mom and grandparents to be proud of her, but she wondered if they’d ever be that way. They only ever seemed to want her to be who they wanted her to be. After years of dealing with being who they expected, she’d gotten tired of it. Learning to be who she was as a person was a process, but she was enjoying every second of it, even if it was scary.

         “Exactly. And I mean I have no idea if my grandparents would be proud of who I am now, but I’m happy and that’s what matters. Right? Best thing to do is to just forget about FoxWatch, as tempting as it is sometimes. You’re awesome Noah and if FoxWatch has to shame something that makes you you, then really they’re the ones with the problem.”

When she looks at the upperclassmen, she finds it hard to believe that that’ll ever be her, that she’ll have that experience, or that confidence—even if it’s faked—that, one day, she’ll be someone that freshmen look up to, the way that she looks up to the older Foxes now. 

She feels like she still has so much catching up to do: with this sport, with this team, with this league. Like she can blow off her school reading to read College Exy Online, check the scores from the games the night before, but she’s still behind. 

“The Buckeyes are good,” she says, because she knows that much, one thing to keep her from feeling completely lost. “Right under Big Three good.” 

She looks over at McKenna, studying her for what’s probably the first time. Outside of team parties, she doesn’t spend much time with the Vixens. She’s blonde, in a way that’s natural, unlike Glory’s bleached hair. Clean-cut in a way that Glory’s never been, even when her siblings tried to scrub her up so they could into town, tried to make her sit still in church pews. She looks like a cheerleader, in a way that makes Glory feel a little bit uncomfortable, because she still hasn’t gotten used to the fact that there are cheerleaders whose job it is to cheer for her. 

Glory finds it hard to believe that she doesn’t have anything worth betting, even if it’s just the cash in the bottom of her purse. Even Glory has five dollars. 

“You don’t have anything? You better think of somethin’ fast, because otherwise my terms are that I give you a tattoo,” she says, wiggling her hand with the black lines inked across her fingers at McKenna with a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve never had one get infected before.”

         Sometimes it’s hard to believe that she’s only a sophomore and still has two and a half more years to go at this school. She feels like she’s changed so much since the beginning of her freshman year, learned things about herself that she didn’t know were even there. She wonders if she’ll ever feel like she has any confidence in herself like some people do so naturally. McKenna’s never felt confident, though she’s beginning to feel like she has more confidence than she’s ever had—and she has no idea if that’s because of the Vixens or because she’s away from her family.

         “Right. Then I guess I’m going to have to go with the Buckeyes,” she says with a hum. “I’m still learning Exy,” McKenna explains, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she talks. She doubts that she’s learned that much this year, but she’s learned enough about how the game is played, next up is learning more about the teams. If anyone asked her anything, she’d say the Foxes were the best because she had so much pride and confidence in them, even if they weren’t champions yet.

         Looking at Glory is almost like looking at what her grandparents didn’t want her to become. There’s something wild and untamable about her, like her mother had been. McKenna wishes she could be like that, but she’d never gotten that opportunity. She was forced into the role she played when she moved in with her grandparents—to be the girl that’s quiet when she’s supposed to be, the girl who’s not supposed to make waves, who goes to church every Sunday and is friends with the preacher’s family. Even at her most rebellious phases, all she ever did was become a cheerleader. She never wanted to be like Glory though, she just wanted to be herself.

         McKenna chewed her bottom lip for a second, thinking to see if she had anything with her that might be of value. “I think I might have like… a pack of gum or something. Maybe a couple of dollars,” the Vixen responds before grabbing her purse and digging through it. At Glory’s suggestion, her head snaps up. “What makes you think I don’t want a tattoo?” Her grandmother would absolutely have a fit if she even heard McKenna thinking about getting a tattoo—it wasn’t her skin though.

“Awesome, awesome, glad to hear I am not the only one.” He shoots a quick smile at McKenna, but it soon disappears to a scowl as he glances to his phone again, eyes scanning over each word. It’s a strange feeling, wanting to see if there’s mention of familiar names. Like he’s seeking for a reason to be angry.

It’s a nasty action to partake in, and he shouldn’t approach anything with that attitude. It’s too trivial for that type of energy.

Licking his lips, he glanced back to McKenna, offering another smile. This time, it’s softer; this time, he puts his phone facedown on the table. “That’s even more awesome you’re facing life head on like that. Not being ashamed about yourself. That’s — that’s how it should be, you know?”

         The blonde forced a smile at Noah. Of course, he wasn’t the only person that felt like it. knowing that people cared enough about them to humiliate them wasn’t a good feeling. But what they did or didn’t do did not have to be talked about in a gossip column. “Of course, you’re not the only person that feels that way. Anyone that’s been on that site probably feels the same way.” It was strange to know that there were people watching them. That not every conversation was private or every move they made at a party was watched by someone. It made her skin crawl. “I don’t bother reading it anymore.”

         Deep down, she knew that neither her mom nor her grandparents wanted her to feel ashamed about who she was, but sometimes that’s how she felt. McKenna wasn’t her mom, she wasn’t always irresponsible and she wasn’t always looking to have fun. She also wasn’t her grandparent’s perfect child either. She was somewhere in between the two of them. Her own person that she was becoming to love. She didn’t want to be in the box that everyone seemed to put her in, so she wouldn’t be. Though she was soft about who she was, not loud and proud like some people were. The blonde wanted people to know who she was without her having to feel like she had to tell everyone. When she was in high school, the gossip had been about her—about her mom, her family. Everyone was always trying to make her into something, make her feel ashamed about things she couldn’t control. At first, she cared what FoxWatch said about her, but now she refused to be like that.

         “Yeah, I guess. I suppose I’m not the best version of myself yet. The only person you can control is you though. How you react to how the world sees you is in your control. Who cares what some random person on the internet says about you.” She had no idea if she was making him feel better or not.