#illestfated

rachel retreated to her bedroom for the week, stewing between anger for nathan prescott who was seemingly out to ruin her life and the shame that burned hot in her face that her father was seeing her as something other than just his perfect little girl. 

when her suspension was raised rumors had flown around the school. that first day back sucked. rachel held her head up high, letting words roll off her back, continuing on with her day trying to keep up with her school work. when she returned to her room for the day she finally felt like she could breathe. tossing her backpack on the floor and falling into bed, she scrolled through social media a bit, deciding to relax a bit before starting on her homework. 

it’s then that she gets the text.

it’s long, and mostly incoherent. brows furrow as rachel tries to wrap her head around it.

it’s from nathan prescott and from what rachel can make of it, he needs to see her. the message is enough to set her uneasy, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as she debates her next move.

to nate 😈: seriously? you get me suspended and suddenly you NEED to see me? fuck off.

rachel sits up from her place in bed, braid falling over one shoulder as she bites her bottom lip, glancing up at her bedroom door. she wanted answers from him; how could he do that? it was so unlike nathan to want to get her in trouble...

to nate 😈: i’m in my room if you NEED to see me but i’m still fucking pissed. 

She still can’t believe she’s even gotten an invitation in the first place, or that she’s somehow become friendly with Victoria Chase. Even despite her fear, she’s smiling, yet there’s an air of trepidation. 

Ashley releases a squeak as Victoria pokes at her sides, giggling as she grabs her wrists before she even has the chance to retaliate.   ❝I mean....no, not exactly,❞ she says hesitantly. If she tells Victoria she still sleeps with a nightlight because she’s still afraid of the dark at 18 years old, that might as well be social suicide, but she doesn’t have to do that. Ashley’s about at good at lying as Pinnochio, so she decides to downplay it instead.  ❝Just not a huge fan of dark, spooky places, that’s all. I’ll go if you promise not to run ahead and leave me alone.❞ 

The sounds of party-goers and the bass of the music on the first floor was, thankfully, muffled for the time being. Not enough to help the sudden migraine pressing against the base of her school, though. Sam was not sure if she had sought out the quietest room that she could find- In all honest, she did not remember how she had even gotten there. Her thoughts were too jumbled and unfocused to piece together. Was that something that people who went to parties experienced a lot? Being curled up in the corner of the upstairs bathroom, feeling like absolute shit and not being able to think straight?

The sound of the door to the bathroom almost made her jump. ‘Almost’ because there was a small jerk in response, but it was slow and the action came a second too long after the sound. She managed to glance upward to see who was standing in the doorway and, if she had enough energy to think, than she would have probably thanked whatever god that it was Nathan standing there. 

“uh, i don’t think a haunted house is a good idea. it’s literally just gonna be us and like, gregg and angus. maybe germ. whose going to work the haunted house? just us two?” bea points out, chin in her hand as she silently watched the other crossing out haunted house in a notebook. “we got to think a little smaller. in a few weeks we can drive out to the halloween store an hour away but having a plan before we get there would probably be the best idea.”

bea moves and folds a greasy piece of pizza and puts the end in her mouth. she chews on the slice thoughtfully before putting it back down onto the round silver pan. “we can maaaaayyyybe keep the haunted house theme but we can’t like, go crazy. don’t forget we’re on a budget. we could probably afford a few of those stupid like shiny fake paintings you put on the wall that make the face change when you walk by it.” 

“victoria will spread any rumor faster than a wildfire,” she frowns down at the initial drawing, a deer and not a very good one at that. “so the second word got around that you had been to jail, well, your reputation at blackwell kind of tanked.”

hazel eyes flicker over to the other who sat a few desks ahead of her. she gives him a small smile. “i wouldn’t worry about it though, rumors burn bright and fast and not everyone will think it’s true.”

she stretches her arms out in front of her like a feline, hands grabbing the edge of her desk and leaning forward. her appearance in detention was out of the ordinary but, like jonas, rumors seemed to follow wherever she went. when principal wells confronted her about a concerned classmate and her connections with one frank bowers, she had snapped. cursed at him. this time it cost her a day in detention. the only blessing this day seemed to bring was that it was ms. grant’s turn in detention rotation. trusting rachel amber, ms. grant didn’t feel bad stepping away to grab coffee from the teachers lounge and to take a bathroom break. 

“my name’s rachel. you’re jonas, right? how’s your first week been?”

@illestfated​ asked ... ❛        what    are    we?      ❜ from jonas bc... duh 

rachel’s knee-jerk reaction is to make a joke. she wants to say that he was her plug to the inside, the right hand man to some infamous reign they held of drugs over blackwell academy and laugh about the absurdity of it. but when rachel looks up and meets his gaze her face flushes. he’s being genuine and she can’t find it in her to deny him an answer. rachel breaks her eyes away from him to stare at the ocean, watching the waves crash down violently against the sand.

they had been on a handful of dates now, more than she could say she’s had with anyone else -- especially not in such a short amount of time. jonas was different and she knew that it sounded stupid to say out loud, like some cliche trope that meant nothing more than momentary infatuation but as their time together continued rachel had no interest in anyone else. it was impossible to explain but it was that kind of feeling that rachel only saw in movies, dramatized in plays and at her family dinner table.

“seeing as we’ve been on quite a few dates,” rachel starts off slowly, hazel eyes returning and locked on his. “aaaaand i like how i feel when you have your hands on my waist, or your arm draped over my shoulder...”

she takes his hand in hers, resting it on the center console with a smile creeping onto the edge of her lips. “and i like how you make me laugh, how we can sing neil diamond and not care how bad we sound. not to mention how you simply keep allowing me to pop all these cherries of yours...” rachel hums, gently squeezing his hand. “i guess i was kind of hoping you’d be my boyfriend at this point, but i understand if you don’t want to mix business with pleasure.”

Despite her desire to I-told-you-so Victoria, Ashley knows now really isn’t the time - even though she’s in an inebriated state as well, she needs to get her friend out of there, fast. She’s had enough panic attacks in her lifetime to know one when she sees one. ❝Okay. It’s okay,❞ she reassures, gently placing an arm around Victoria to guide her outside, grateful for the people allowing them to find a path out. 

     When Victoria deigns to speak to her, the words sting worse than the phantom  twinge in her neck. Any semblance of strength evaporates from her body, Kate scrambling to salvage the wreckage of her resolve.  ❝  It’s not a disguise. Someone put something in my drink. I don’t even li-ike--- ❞  She squeaks, last syllable repeating like a needle on dirty vinyl. A chance at absolution rests on the precipice of one word. A truth set free before Helen buries her in the closet with the rest of the family’s skeletons.  ❝  ---like parties. ❞      Hanging as herself makes no difference; the noose will choke her all the same.      The jumble of bathroom supplies press against Kate’s chest, a comforting pressure that keeps the tears from falling on her flushed face. Hunched shoulders roll back, settle into that perfect churchgirl posture her mother beat into her.  ❝  If it had been you out there, I would have helped you. ❞  Her voice is hushed, soft. Her red-rimmed, watery eyes cradle sincerity and betrayal in equal measure.