Episode 4 - Cleo thinks she can skip school and Monet likes to teach, wow

"Are you serious, Cleo? You missed the bus?" Cleopatra groaned in response, already regretting calling her brother after she did, in fact, miss the school bus by a few minutes. She knew that he was going to chew her out for it and if she had her way, she wouldn't even be going to school right now. She only tried for him and he never seemed to notice. "Cleopatra, you cannot miss school. I'll come pick you up and take you over to the school, okay? You might miss the first period but at least you'll be there to catch up." Cleopatra shifted the phone against her ear and squeezed her eyes shut, biting her bottom lip slightly as she leaned back against the lightpost behind her. Chris was on the phone with her. If anything bad were to happen, he'd know.

"You know that's not what I want. I want you to pick me up and let me stay with you at work today," Cleopatra protested, opening her eyes again. "I don't want to go to school and I certainly don't want to go home. All I'm asking is to come to work with you, Chris." She wrapped an arm loosely around herself, glancing around the street quickly. "It's Friday. Tomorrow's the weekend. It's not a crime to miss a day of school. Please Chris, I'm only asking for you to let me take a break."

"Ugh, Cleopatra... School just started and you're already begging to skip out of it. If you want to have a chance at a decent college with minimum debt, you know you can't continue your path from last year. We can't afford another college debt like mine, you know this!" Chris scolded lightly on the other side of the phone. Cleopatra hissed through her teeth, grasping onto any remaining amount of self control she had left in her to not curse like a sailor in front of her older brother. He never did seem to understand her.

"Chris, you know this story already! I'm not even planning on going to college. I don't see what your problem is. I don't know why you're making it such a big deal..." Cleopatra started, shifting her black bag on her shoulder and glancing around the street again. She opened her mouth to continue but Chris cut her off.

"No, that's out of the question. You are going to college and you're not fighting me on this, Cleopatra. You're a very intelligent girl and you know this. The only reason you're not in advanced classes is because your track record sucks. You could get into any college you want, Cleo. You could get any degree you want. But not going at all? Out of the question. Period," Chris snapped slightly. Cleopatra bit her lip again, resisting the urge to scream and cry out a bit. She wasn't a spoiled brat, nothing of that sort, but Chris just didn't seem to get it, did he? "We're not doing the same thing we did last year, okay? I'm not doing that. You can't just skip class whenever you feel like it."

"Okay, Chris. You're not taking the hint so I'll lay it out for you. I'm not going to school. Period. So either you can come pick me up and I go to work with you or I skip school by myself and do whatever I want. Either way, I'm not going. So it's up to you. You can get me out of this hellhole that I'm trapped in or you can leave me to suffer through it and probably make some bad choices while I'm at it. It's your choice. But make it soon because I don't have the time nor the patience to deal with this." Cleopatra was aware of how she sounded. Her words were clipped and carefully placed. Normally, Cleopatra would treat her brother with a little more respect, considering he was her only saving grace now that Bailey was gone but her patience was running thin and so was her time. She needed an out and she knew that it would just be better for everyone if she didn't go to school today. And that wasn't her rebellion speaking. Not anymore, anyway.

Cleopatra heard Chris sigh on the other side of the phone and she smiled slightly. She had won this battle. Then, Chris spoke. "You, Cleopatra Anne Blackheart, really are something else. You know that? Fine. I concede. I'll come pick you up and you can even spend the night if that's what you want. But you're not allowed to ditch school for the next month, you hear me? I don't care where you are. I'm not letting you skip, period or I'm not doing this again."

Cleopatra scoffed and shook her head. "You really are cruel, Chris. You are aware of this, right?" She commented, looking down at her black heels against the cracked pavement in her sorry excuse for a neighborhood.

"I'm not the one who's putting my future in jeopardy like this," Chris shot back, almost like it was a reflex. But Cleopatra's laugh in response definitely was a reflex because it was such a strange laugh. It was a broken sort of laugh, one that held pain and truth that could have only been obtained through certain, unpleasant measures of a ruined childhood. Cleopatra wasn't okay, not that she ever had been, but that comment was enough to really make her snap.

"And it's not my fault that you did that to yourself the minute you decided to take me on, is it, Christopher? Well, guess what? Now you're responsible for me but not for my life. It's my choice if I decided that I want to ruin my future and it's my choice if I decide I don't want to go to college and it's a joke if you actually think I'll live long enough to make it there. But you know what's not my choice? This life. This... dastardly, horrendous, pathetic excuse for a childhood. I didn't choose for my childhood to go on like this and you know it. So quit blaming me for your own choices because if I had my way, I would have done my best to change your mind. So goodbye. I'll see you when you get here." Cleopatra went to pull her phone off her ear, ready to throw it on the ground in a fit of rage and anger, a pit finding its way to the bottom of her stomach and her heart pounding tightly in her throat but before she could get very far, Chris spoke again, almost shouting in surprise and maybe a little fear.

"Wait! Wait, Cleo, wait! I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry. It's not fair of me to blame my failures on you when you were too young to even have a say in this. You're right. Of course you're right. But that doesn't mean that I'm supporting your choices. You're my little sister. I'm supposed to be worried about your future and stuff like that. But you're right. It's your life. And I love you, okay? Don't forget that. And I'll see you in a few minutes, okay? I promise." Something in Chris's voice had changed. He sounded sincere and apologetic, something that wasn't commonly heard between the two siblings unless the other was really serious. Cleopatra let out an exaggerated sigh. She wanted to stay mad at Chris, really she did, but after hearing that, she couldn't bring herself to it.

"Yeah, I know. Me too. I'll see you in a few minutes." Before Chris could respond again, Cleopatra pulled the phone away from her ear for the final time and pressed the red button that appeared on the screen. "Really? 'I'm not the one putting my future in jeopardy'. He really thinks that?" She scoffed slightly, shaking her head and staring out at the street that if she thought about it hard enough, might just swallow her whole into eternal torture and torment that she knew it was capable of first hand. "You know something, Chris? I really don't get you sometimes. I really don't."

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"Jasmine, over here!" Sasha shouted from her lunch table, over the sounds of chaos from the lunchroom. Jasmine looked around the room quickly, trying to identify her friend, before finding her. Sasha was standing up at the table, waving her arms in the air at her. Jasmine laughed and smiled slightly before bumping Mark's arm with her lunch box and pointing out Sasha to him. That was all it took for the two of them to make their way over to the table.

"Sash, I'm so not used to people doing that," Jasmine joked as she sat down across from her brunette friend and practically dragged Mark down next to her. "I'm so used to blocking people who do that out because it's typically at a red carpet." Sasha laughed and shrugged her shoulders slightly.

"Oh, don't lie. You definitely had some Vietnam war flashbacks over there," Mark joked, opening up his lunchbox and pulling out a sandwich. Jasmine rolled her eyes, laughing, and stuck her tongue out at him before opening her own lunch, ready to pay attention to Sasha.

"How come you're sitting by yourself?" Mark asked, glancing up from where he was unpacking his lunch and looking over at Sasha. The singer shrugged her shoulders slightly, looking over toward a certain direction that Jasmine could only assume that was the direction that the person who had been sitting with before had gone. Jasmine found herself scanning the room as well, looking for Monet. It had become a habit now, honestly. Since the beginning of the week, Jasmine had noticed Monet just seemed to vanish from the lunchroom and while she knew her sister was good at stealth, this was a whole new level for her.

"I wasn't always. I was originally going to sit with a few of my friends but they're being petty today. Then, I looked for Leo but he's off doing his own thing and Anthony likes literally no one. So then I found Isa but she disappeared off to the bathroom so now we're here," Sasha smiled, drawing Jasmine's attention back to the conversation at hand with a smile. "I am glad that I found you two, though. That could have been a boring lunch period. We are still up for today's club meeting, right?" Mark nodded his head, looking up from his phone, but it was Jasmine who answered.

"Uh, yeah. Mark and I were planning on it. I am going to walk Monet to her martial arts studio for her teaching class, just so the two of us can catch up some, so we'll leave early. You'll still have Mark there so it can continue even if I'm gone if you guys want," Jasmine replied with a shrug of her shoulder, leaning forward on her hands, her lunch momentarily forgotten.

"Wait, wait! When was this plan made? I was literally with you two girls all night!" Mark whined, his face turning into something like a pout and he turned to face Jasmine. The blonde girl laughed and shrugged her shoulders, playfully nudging his leg with her own. Mark rolled his eyes and kicked her leg back a little harder, forcing the two friends to start a little kicking war. Sasha chuckled and took a bite of her spaghetti before holding her hands up like she was filming on a phone, her hands creating the phone shape with a gentle laugh.

"Hello, hello, and welcome back to lunchtime with The Rejects Club. As you can see here, the one and only, ever-popular, forever adored Jasmine Ender has kicked her best friend in the leg. This is the last remaining evidence that we need to collect to prove the world-wide conspiracy theory that Jasmine Ender is, in fact, an abusive scumbag," Sasha chuckled, throwing her leg out in between Jasmine and Mark's so that they'd stop for a minute. The two of them stopped for a second before Jasmine processed what she had said and she laughed.

"You know what's funny?" Jasmine asked with a small laugh. "I actually thought you were serious at first. I was gonna be like, 'You can do that because people will think it's serious' but, you know what, I'm just an idiot." Mark and Sasha laughed and they smiled at each other. That was the beauty of the club they had created, Jasmine realized. This was the Rejects Club and here, she was just Jasmine. She might be world-famous. Everyone might know about her. She might be a superstar and she would never be normal but that wasn't the point. Because when she was in the Rejects Club, she didn't have to pretend to be anyone else. She could mess around with Mark and joke around with other friends that she had never really had before. Here, she was just a normal kid. And that was why she had made this club in the first place. Belonging matter. It was so important. And when people felt so disconnected from reality that they couldn't be themselves, Jasmine was determined to provide that safe place here. They weren't normal kids but at least here, they could be themselves.

Even if the rest of the world wouldn't hear of it.

"Mark, hand me your phone. The news has got to hear this," Sasha laughed, leaning over the table to grab Mark's phone. The brunette boy chuckled and let her take it from him, watching Jasmine scramble to claim it for herself out of Sasha's arms. And thus started a game of keep-away. They were teenagers, sophomores in high school, but for a moment, they could have been mistaken for toddlers. Whining, complaining, and joyous laugher filled the room until they were scolded by a teacher. Like a normal kid but they didn't care. Because as long as Jasmine was here, she was just a normal kid, just Jasmine. And that's all that really mattered to her now.

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When Monet decided to start eating her lunch in the bathroom, she really wasn't expecting to be followed by anyone, let alone be joined. But when Isa figured out it was her who was hiding away in the big stall in the bathroom, was she really just supposed to say no? So that's how she ended up in this position, sitting on the floor across from Isabelle Emily in the bathroom with her jacket and lunch spread out across the floor. They hadn't really talked yet, just enjoying the silence, but Isa has talked a bit. She had been trying to get Monet involved in some kind of conversation but Monet wasn't too sure what she wanted to hear. It was the oddest thing Monet had encountered yet but she didn't mind it. Sitting in silence in the middle of the bathroom stall alone was more lonely than sitting in silence in the middle of the bathroom stall with someone else, after all.

"Are you liking the club?" Isa asked after a few minutes. She didn't lookup. She just pushed her brown hair behind her ear and fiddled with Monet's jacket zipper. Monet was silent for a minute, trying to figure out what to say. It wasn't that she didn't like the club. In fact, she loved it. She thought it was the most clever thing that Jasmine and Mark had come up with to date. But that didn't mean that she knew what was wanted from her. Did Isa want the blunt truth or was she supposed to say something else? Did Isa even care?

"It's definitely the most interesting idea Jasmine and Mark have started, that's for sure. I mean, I like it. It's a good idea. Good for people," Monet replied softly, staring down at her food. She had lost her appetite the second Isa walked into the room and it looked like it wasn't going to return anytime soon. There was more suffocating silence and Monet found herself drifting off into a mental ramble. Why was Isa here? Clearly, she had friends. She was friends with people from the Rejects Club, of course. So why was she here? She had only known Monet for one day. The two of them had barely even spoken to each other. Monet had gotten used to being alone. She didn't mind it anymore. "How come you're here?" Monet found herself blurting out. Isa blinked, a little surprised. "How come you're here and not with your friends."

"Well, I guess it's because that's how the Rejects Club found me. I had been sitting alone, just like I always used to, and Mark sat down next to me. The next thing I knew, the invite had been shoved into my hands and I was at the club meeting. You're a member of the club now, aren't you? So we've got to stick together, even if it means that I'm having lunch on the bathroom floor." Isa shrugged her shoulders slightly and looked back down again. "Isn't that the whole point of the club? To make friends and feel wanted?" Monet lost her voice, averting her eyes over to the wall next to her where some rebellious child had written on it.

"You see, what's what I mean. Mark and Jassy having good ideas," Monet replied quickly after the silence got just a little too awkward. Isa smiled slightly and nodded. She hadn't seemed put off by Monet's awkwardness. Why was that? "Oh, um... Could you please not tell them that I'm here? I don't want them to worry about me any more than they already do."

It must have been the vain attempt to make a joke that made Isa laugh a bit at her. "Of course! If you don't want them to know, I won't tell them. But if you want a friend, I'll join you. I mean, I've got nothing better to do anyway." Monet nodded her head, a small smile finding its way to her lips. Something inside her changed, if only for a second. For the first time since she could remember, Monet didn't feel so invisible. Because for the first time she could remember, Isa was the first person who decided to sit down and have a real conversation with her, not put off by Monet's lack of social skills. And maybe, just maybe, this club wasn't only good for her best friends. Maybe it was good for her too.

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Kyra's skin was crawling with anticipation as she watched the clock slowly tick down the time till she could leave to go home. It wasn't like she hated school or was excited to go to work, but she couldn't stop thinking about how much work she still had to get down to slide under her grandfather's radar once more. First and foremost, she had a case to finish wrapping up. She was almost done with it, of course, but there were all those details that needed to finalize, and then, of course, there were loopholes that needed to be closed before the trial. Then, she had her Biology project that just couldn't be put off any longer. She liked science, of course, but it was still an unnecessary roadblock. Of course, there was also that English paper she hadn't even started and forget the thirty Geometry problems that just had to be done. And to top it all off, there was that History reading. It was like everyone decided that today was their designated day to torture Kyra and she wasn't enjoying it one bit.

But Kyra figured she was the most excited to get out of the club. She hadn't planned on attending but then Jasmine asked her in class if she was planning on coming back today. Kyra had panicked and said that she was and she figured that it was rude to just not show up after that. It wasn't like she wanted to be here but she did like that idea. It was a club for people who needed friends. It was clever. She thought it was a brilliant idea. But ever since Mark had brought it up, Kyra was getting increasingly aware of her loneliness. However, there was nothing practical for her to do about it. She was still a normal teenage girl who wanted friends, but they conflicted with so many of her other important aspects of life. Then again, she wasn't really normal, was she? After all, what fourteen-year-old girl worked with murders, kidnappings, and serial killers?

Kyra shook her head again and sighed. She had shown up to the club today, just like she said she would, but it didn't mean that she would have to enjoy it. Though luckily today, she didn't have to deal with Cleopatra Blackheart and she didn't have the time nor the energy to even associate with someone of her reputation. If her Grandfather found out, Kyra figured she'd never hear the end of it. She'd be in trouble for months, maybe even years. All it took was one person to ruin her reasoning, one person to taint her thoughts, and then everything would be over. Her Grandfather had taught her that eve since she was young. And given Cleopatra's experiences with school, that girl was far more than bad news.

The age-old saying lingered in the back of Kyra's head, however. 'Don't judge a book by its cover', it quoted over and over again. She knew of it, of course. She had used it as a reminder on many of her cases. She had prided herself on not being bias. And this view of Cleopatra was definitely biased. She hadn't even had a conversation with Cleopatra, let alone got to know her well enough to judge the book by its contents. So what was it about Cleopatra that Kyra really didn't like? Was it her excessive personality? Her blunt comments? The over-confidence that made her act like she was better than everyone? Kyra really wasn't sure. She knew plenty of other people like that and had gotten along with them just fine without feeling like she was going to go insane. So what was it that made Cleopatra different?

Cleopatra's attitude was stand-offish. Was that it? She was stand-offish and rather rude. Kyra knew that those were the traits of a defensive personality. Someone who had something to hide, who felt as though they needed to push everyone else away to keep themselves safe. This meant that Cleopatra had an aspect about her that she didn't want anyone else to figure out. She was wrapping herself in a box and making sure that no one could figure her out. Especially people like Kyra. She was one of the biggest mysteries that Kyra had ever had the chance to solve.

So was that it? Was that the reason? Cleopatra was a mystery that refused to be solved. Kyra loved mysteries. Of course, she did, she was a detective. But an unsolved mystery book was frustrating if one only read the back cover and Cleopatra was as unknown as a closed book. It would only make sense that Kyra was frustrated and annoyed with her. After all, the story was only solved once the book was read. Maybe that was the way she would have to look at it. Cleopatra was a mystery book on the unread shelf. And only by reading it would Kyra finally learn the truth behind Cleopatra's facade.

If only she could get past the description first.

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"How come nothing really ever happens at the club meetings, Jassy?" Monet asked softly, glancing over at her sister from the corner of her eye. She'd only been at the club twice now but Jasmine knew Monet knew a lot more than she ever spoke about. Right now, there wasn't much else to talk about. Monet had been in martial arts so long that she ended up becoming a class assistant. She helped out in two classes, one on Monday and one on Friday. It was that Friday class which meant that she had to leave the club early to make it to her four o'clock class. But Jasmine didn't mind. She couldn't remember the last time that she and Monet had walked like this together.

"I dunno. I guess it's because Mark and I haven't really found anything big to do yet," Jasmine replied, shrugging her shoulders as she spoke. It was a half-truth. They had been struggling to come up with an idea, of course, but they also hadn't had enough members to do anything big before. None of the big events were happening for a few weeks and anything smaller needed more people. It was almost frustrating until Jasmine had to remind herself that there was no real point to the club, not like other clubs. No, this club was just for people to hang out and make friends, nothing more. And while it was doable that the school, Jasmine did wish they could do more with it. If only they could figure out what that 'more' was.

"Well, are you going to find something?" Monet asked innocently, swinging her backpack strap back over her shoulder so that it didn't slip off, only being held up by that one strap, after all. Jasmine shrugged her shoulders again, jumping over a few cracks in the sidewalk to get ahead of her sister.

"I dunno. You got any ideas?" Jasmine replied, turning on her heels and walking backward to face her sister. This time, Monet shrugged, a slightly worried look crossing over her face. Jasmine watched her filter through options, trying to figure out what she should say. People were fascinating to watch and Monet was no exception, especially since Jasmine knew her better than anyone. Jasmine knew why she worked the way she did. And that made Monet more interesting to watch.

"Oh, I don't know. You took my only idea yesterday. I would have suggested going to see a mov..." Monet's voice trailed off and a surprised look crossed her face like she was actually surprised she came up with something. "Wait, wait. What if we had a movie marathon? In the Warehouse? We could have everyone bring their favorite movie and blankets and stuff and we could all sit down and watch them." Jasmine stopped, her hand finding a way to her braid and giving it a slight tug as she thought, a nasty nervous tick she had come up with. Monet stopped walking herself, another look of worry on her face and Jasmine knew that's when she had screwed up.

"That, Monet Elizabeth Ivory, has just become the best idea we've had yet! You're literally the best, Mo! Thanks so much!" Jasmine squealed, bouncing up and down on her toes. It wasn't a lie and she scolded herself for giving her sister a chance to doubt herself. Monet smiled weakly and wrapped her arms around her stomach carefully. Jasmine smiled at her again, twirling around once more and marching forward. "Yep, this is definitely the best idea. We can definitely have it at the Warehouse and people can bring blankets and pillows and we can wear pajamas and there'll be popcorn and this is going to be amazing! I'm upset we didn't think of this before!" She laughed and turned back to look at Monet for a second. "We're definitely doing this now and you can't not take the credit for the idea, okay? You have to. Sister's orders."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Monet sighed in defeat, but the smile on her face said otherwise. For the rest of the walk to the studio, they spoke of the idea. Well, Jasmine did the talking, as always, and Monet listened, nodding her head and agreeing with whatever it was that Jasmine wanted someone to agree with. By the time they had made it there, there was a pretty solid plan of what was going to happen. All they needed was a date and Mark had said he would help them find it when they had texted the idea to him. All in all, Jasmine knew that walking with her sister had definitely not been a waste of her time and that it never was. This was the part of life that Hollowood would never understand. Walking to a martial arts studio might not have been a normally romanticized event but it could be done. And that's why Jasmine loved her small-town life. Every event meant something and she loved to find the beauty in every detail.

Even when it came to her sister being an idiot like she was now. Monet stepped out of the bathroom at the studio, clutching at her black belt in her hands. "Jasmine?" She called softly, drawing Jasmine's attention up from her phone. "I... I might have tied my sash too tight... I can't get it off. Please... Please get it off." Monet's voice hitched in panic, her last word cut off by a small cry and the biting of her bottom lip. Jasmine smiled at her gently, shoving her phone back into her pocket and stepping over. Her long nails tore the knot apart easily and Monet let out a sigh of relief, her face flushing red as she went to retie the knot, only more loose this time. Jasmine wasn't stupid. She knew how much tight clothes bothered Monet, to the point where it had limited her closet of clothes as home, but the origin of that irrational fear was unknown. It was just like when they were kids. Monet was the responsible and brave one until she did one stupid thing, only one, and Jasmine was the only one who could pull her out of the mess.

"Such a kid," Jasmine teased lightly. The question she really wanted to as was 'what has gotten into you?' but she knew there was no use. Monet was different, different than Jasmine remembered, but not in any way that she could place. Was it the way that Monet refused to look her in the eyes anymore? Or the ever-changing spray of emotions in her eyes? Jasmine shook her head, dismissing the thoughts and looking out into the waiting room. "Your kids excited to get back into class? I'm sure they're stoked to see you again." Monet gave her a curt nod, walking back into the bathroom to braid her hair back out of her face. The two dutch braids were too short, leaving a small pigtail at the bottom of her head. Jasmine frowned. "You're oddly quiet today. What's bothering you?"

"I was just thinking about my first competition next week, that's all," Monet replied quickly, glancing at Jasmine from the corner of the mirror. She didn't say anything else and so Jasmine sighed, glancing back down at her phone for a second to see if Mark had texted her back. Today was going to be a long day.

"I dunno if I'm reading this wrong, but I'm getting the feeling that you're not telling me the whole story, sis." Jasmine tilted her head slightly, making eye contact with her sister in the mirror. They stared at each other for a second before Monet gave up, glancing away and back on her hair again. Jasmine sighed and stepped over, resting her head on Monet's shoulder. "Whatever. Not my business. I hope your class is fun." Monet smiled back, almost a little sadly.

"It always is."

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If Cleopatra had to list two of the things she enjoyed, skipping school and chatting with Bailey were definitely on the top of that list. And it so happened that it was exactly what Cleopatra had been doing all day. Bailey had skipped out on her school day as well and so, Cleopatra had to conclude that today was one of the best days this school year had to offer yet. Technically, right now, Bailey was supposed to be in an after-school study hall class, a class full of troublemakers and failing students, supervised down to the second to make sure that their homework got done, but Bailey had a habit of skipping out of this class when she could make it out without getting caught. Which was exactly what was happening now. And so, Bailey had spent a good part of their day talking about just about anything. If only they were closer or Cleopatra had been convinced that the two of them would be meeting up every day now.

Currently, Cleopatra was sitting in her brother's office while he took over training some new hires for the day. Chris, as it happened, was the manager at a local hotel and had been working there for almost as long as Cleopatra could remember. It wasn't the best job, not by a long shot, but Cleopatra knew that at this rate, it was almost too risky for him to quit and get a new job. He had the job to take care of her and if she wasn't around, he could be doing anything. Nevertheless, Cleopatra figured he also enjoyed it and so there wasn't much argument over it any more. She had settled herself in her brother's swivel chair and found herself spinning around in it as she talked on the phone, making the conversation that much more interesting. After all, no matter how old you are, you had to be a madman to resist the urge to spin in one of those chairs.

"Cleo, if you spin one more time, I'm going to start taking a shot for every time you spin now," Bailey said with a small laugh, adjusting the earbud in her ear and taking a sip of her coffee. Cleopatra laughed lightly and turned around to face her again as Bailey leaned back in her seat.

"And if you die from alcohol poisoning, that's not my fault and I shall appear at your funeral with lilacs and a fit of laughter," Cleopatra chuckled, spinning around in her chair once more with a small smirk.

"Uh, waiter, yeah, I'm going to need your biggest crate of alcohol and a body bag, please." Bailey's laugh ran clear through the phone that it managed to surprise Cleopatra that her gothic friend hadn't been the cause of public attention yet. She just smiled as her chair continued its course before reaching a hand out to catch the edge of her desk to stop spinning for a second.

"Oh, be serious, Bails. They're not stupid. There is no way anyone's ever going to give you any alcohol or a body bag, love. You don't even look close to drinking age," Cleopatra replied, leaning forward on her arms to rest on the desk. She folded her hands under her chin and rested her chin on top of them. Bailey smirked and raised an eyebrow, almost like Cleopatra had started a challenge. Though, the smile never left her face.

"Oh, dear, try as you may, you shall never get me to forget that one time we were out and about and those two men thought we were of drinking age and offered us a drink. Remember that?" Bailey asked. Cleopatra giggled slightly and shook her arms, her sleeves falling down to her elbows despite knowing how much it was going to bother her later.

"As I recall, it was midnight, they were drunk, and wanted to get into our pants anyway. Plus, you can't dress in your stripper outfit and expect everyone to treat you like you're sixteen!" Cleopatra replied, a slight 'I told you so' tone in her voice mixed with a small laugh. Bailey whined, like the comment personally offended her, and shook her head.

"Okay, no! It's not a stripper outfit!" Bailey whined, frowning and taking a sip of her drink to collect herself before she started shouting. "It was fishnet tights and shirt, with black jean shorts and a black crop top over it. AND for once, once, my hair was up. In a ponytail. You can't make that argument because you're wrong. Dead wrong. There is no way that it's a stripper outfit, not even close."

"You're forgetting the thigh-high high heels, though," Cleopatra replied, her response sounding more like an off-hand remark than an insult to Bailey's outfit, which only riled up the goth girl more.

"CLEO, THEY WERE KNEE-HIGH COMBAT BOOTS, YOU BIT-" Bailey stopped suddenly, as if she realized that she was out in public and her shouting was drawing attention to her that she did not want. If Bailey blushed, it wasn't visible until the layer of foundation she was wearing. "The patrons here are staring at me. I think I disturbed their peaceful talk." Cleopatra scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, but to be fair, you haven't really bought anything the whole time you've been here. You know that's considered rude, right?" Cleopatra smiled, spinning around in her chair once again. This time, when she stopped, she pulled her knees up to her chest and relaxed against the back of the chair, waiting for Bailey to reply.

"Well, I, for one, don't see my alcohol here yet," Bailey replied with a shrug and a smirk. Cleopatra laughed and shook her head, facing the camera once more to get a good look at her friend again. Bailey sighed and tousled her hair, shaking it out of her face and running her hands through it so that the shaved side on the right side of her head was visible when Cleopatra knew she was forced to hide it at school. Like Cleopatra herself, Bailey had also found her love of the gothic style of clothing from a young age. However, unlike Cleopatra, who had switched to gothic Lolita soon after, Bailey had stuck with the normal goth side of things, shaving her head and all that. She didn't have any face piercings and as far as Cleopatra was concerned, she wasn't planning on getting any, but Bailey did have enough ear piercings that it seemed like she could set off a metal detector single handedly. Bailey was rarely seen without an outfit that contained leather, black, and fishnets and heaven forbid her makeup was anything but edgy and dark. But on the inside, she was still the same black haired, pigtailed girl that Cleopatra had befriended way before they knew that Kindergarten was a thing.

"I dunno if you know this, Bails, but you're at a coffee shop, not a bar." Cleopatra chuckled. "Maybe those drinks really did get to you drunk." Bailey laughed at the tease and leaned back in her seat. Cleopatra watched as she scanned the room slightly, a nervous tick that she had for whenever she was going somewhere brand new. It was also the same tell she had for when she was lying, but that wasn't as important right now.

"Nah, to be honest, after the fifth shot, I gave up counting," Bailey shrugged, looking back at the camera with a smile. "Though, all joking aside, I do wish you were here. Or, better yet, I was there. It's really not the same here. It's weird. And not the good kind of weird, the fun one. The boring kind of weird. Everyone here is so uptight and worried about what their Daddy's will think. And if they're not, they're creeps and weirdos. It's really not fun here. I'm used to being alone, but, you know, with you. Not on my own." Bailey pouted, sticking her bottom lip out in a pouty face that only Cleopatra could roll her eyes at.

"You're one to talk. You might actually have it better. I'm stuck putting up with Detective Purple Hair. You know the new Nancy Drew, Kyra Kingsly? The one who solved the Lockwood High Lock-In case? She skipped a grade so she's in our grade now and she's so... I dunno... annoying? Boring? Nonchalant? And she's such a major buzzkill! You can't talk about anything just slightly scandalous around her or she gets all up in your business about it. Well, she doesn't exactly say anything but you can feel her judging you from a mile away. She's so... ugh! I just want to punch her in the face, if you know what I mean."

"You know, you really should give the club a chance, Cleo. You dunno what might happen if you don't," Bailey said with a shrug. "I know my offer still stands. Plus, the people might surprise you." She tossed her hair again and looked like she was about to say something else. However, like every other conversation they had recently. Bailey's gaze jumped up from the phone and a few curse words escaped her lips. "Oh sh... One of my teachers showed up and I'm not supposed to be here. I've gotta go but tell Chris I said hi and I'll call you back later, m'kay, sweetie? Love you, Cleopatra!" And with that, Bailey launched over and hit the end button before Cleopatra could say anything, let alone say goodbye. With a sigh, the Lolita scooted the roller chair over to the desk and took her phone back, glancing over at the door. Chris was still nowhere to be seen. It was starting to become a long, long night.