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Leather Jackets and Feminism: An Anaphora AU

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Leather Jackets and Feminism: An Anaphora AU

Post by Wishie on Tue Mar 21, 2017 6:35 pm

​So I wrote a Jalynn Anaphora highschool AU a little while back, and this is what happened. It's not complete, mostly because I decided halfway through that I was going to try to extend this all the way into, like, an actual substantial thing, but here's what I managed to write.


_____

Lynn does not, by any means, consider herself an unscholarly person. But AP Bio that day is awful. They're not even working with fire, but Aila manages to set their lab ablaze somehow (again), and Lynn loves Aila, but this is really just too much.

She grumbles on her way out of class. Her hair getting stuck in the zipper of her backpack is really the cherry on top of a really bad, terrible day -- and then she trips over Aila's foot as she's trying to unstick her hair-

Her knee stings and she knows it's going to bruise, her scalp hurts, and someone's stepped on her hand, who wears cleats to school, what the hell?

And then someone reaches out, untangles her hair, yanks her up-

Lynn catches a glimpse of bright hazel eyes, and that's it. Just. She's fucked.

Aila stops near her, an apologetic look on her face, but Lynn is too far gone to notice. She breezes off down the hall, leaving Aila behind, even though they walk the same way. As she arrives at her AP Government class, on time, sitting in his seat, Alec Cole is doing his homework last-minute.

"Hey, Alec," she says. He ignores her. "You know a lot of things about people, right?"

Alec glances up, his expression flat. His brown hair, unbrushed and floppy, falls into his eyes and he reaches up to brush it out of the way. Lynn takes this as an affirmative.

"I bumped into this girl, in the hallway," Lynn says, "And I want to know more about her. What could you tell me?"

Without breaking monotone, Alec says, "I'm going to need a picture."

"I don't know where to get one," she says.

"Any distinguishing features you can remember?"

"She was wearing a lacrosse bag," Lynn tries to think. "Varsity?"

"There's a place to start, then," Alec says. "Pull up the Facebook page and point her out to me and I'll see what I can do."

Lynn does that. The varsity girls' lacrosse team's huge smiles are the first thing she sees when she opens the page, and, front and center, the girl from that morning. Alec barely glances at the picture before rolling his eyes.

"You couldn't even have been unique, could you?"

"Sorry?" Lynn looks from the picture to him.

"Captain of the varsity lacrosse team," Alec says. "Her name's Jade Wishter. She's popular. Too popular," he adds.

"Noted," Lynn takes out her notebook, wrestling with the zipper of her backpack. "So she's out of my league."

"Extremely," Alec returns to his homework. "And straight, or so I've heard."

"Damn," Lynn clicks her pen. "Well, you don't know everything, Alec."

She thinks about Jade the rest of the class, and then the rest of the day, which is hardly ideal but not the worst thing in the world.

(She's reasonably certain Aila will have told Fina and Charity about the incident this morning, especially after the way she made a huge deal about Aila and Luke last semester, and Alec will have the evidence to corroborate it.)

(Not that Alec will actually corroborate anything, anyway, but he'll know. It'll be another thing to add to his massive information library, which is, she thinks privately, too large for his own good.)

_____

Jade likes school.

And for all her showboating in sports, she considers herself to be reasonably self-aware, reasonably modest, and reasonably talented. She's a bit of a teacher's pet and even her friends -- all athletic, charismatic honor roll students -- consider her their resident goody-two-shoes, a term tinged with just as much annoyance as affection.

But despite all the perception that Jade is a saint, she doesn't quite go out of her way all that often. Maybe it's the inconvenience, maybe it's her own innate laziness, but typically, when someone falls over in the hall, she walks on by.

So when a girl steps out of a classroom and immediately falls over, her hair tangled in the zipper of her backpack, Jade isn't entirely sure what prompts her to do it, to cross the hall, detangle the girl's hair, and pull her to her feet.

The other girl looks up. Jade looks into the brightest blue eyes she's ever seen, clear and brilliant.
She turns and runs, because she knows those eyes.

Lynn Desoll.

Lynn is one of the girls with little notoriety but a lot of personal loyalty. A mystery wrapped in an enigma surrounded by a layer of paradoxes. Leather jackets and feminism, chess and chemistry.

(Her stomach swoops a little.)

She sees Lynn and she remembers, all of a sudden, that one party, last year, sophomore year. Jade remembers the scent of the alcohol on Lynn's breath. She remembers getting Lynn water, taking her home, tugging the other girl's minidress down her thighs. She remembers the press of Lynn's lips against her jaw and Lynn's drunken giggle, so utterly childlike, at a contrast to her stiff and collected persona.

She wonders if Lynn still drinks.

She doesn't have a lot of time to wonder. There's lacrosse practice after school, which is sufficiently draining to take her attentions away from party girls with too-bright eyes.

"You were off today," Finsa says to her after practice.

"Was I?" Jade says.

Finsa pulls off her sweat-soaked shirt. "Incredibly."

"It's, ah, family stuff," Jade says, by way of explanation. Finsa nods.

"There's a party at Therese's house tonight," she says. "If you need more of a distraction."

"I'll think about it," Jade says.

She goes. Therese Zeidan is a lot of things, a lot of which Jade doesn't quite like, but she knows how to throw a party.

The Zeidan family mansion practically glitters with the lights that have been strung on it. Two blocks away, Jade can hear the music thumping. It's a wonder there hasn't been a noise complaint.

Inside, the alcohol flows freely. Jade takes a cup from the kitchen and goes off into the crowd. Stopping in a doorway, she surveys the room. In the very center of a circle, Fina Lange does something with fire that makes Jade instinctively take a step back, away from the mass of high school students.

"Drinking is bad, you know," says someone, directly in her ear. The someone sounds feminine, but Jade can't really be sure.

"I... did," she says, turning around. In the relative darkness of the room, she can't quite make out the person, who appears to be clutching a bottle.

"That's good," they laugh, taking another drink.

"Is that absinthe?" Jade asks. The person- Jade thinks she's a girl- nods, tugging at her dress.

"It is," she says. "Want some?"

"I thought drinking was bad," Jade says, holding out her cup. The girl pours out a measure of absinthe.

"Very bad," she confirms. "But this isn't alcohol."

"What is it, then?" Jade asks. The girl gets very close to Jade's face then, so close Jade can smell the anise on her breath.

"Pure poison," she says, then giggles as she pulls away, and Jade's heart stops because she knows that giggle. And those eyes, clouded from the influence as they are.

The girl drinking absinthe and swaying in front of her is Lynn.

Jade throws back the absinthe in her cup, then immediately regrets it as she doubles over, coughing. "How do you drink this stuff?"

"I have a high tolerance," Lynn says, singsongy. "Very high. The highest."

"I'm sure," Jade eyes the bottle. "Not going to need your stomach pumped later, will you?"

"Nope," Lynn says, popping the 'p'. "Of course not. You're silly."

She sways in place, lifts her arms and wraps them about Jade's neck.

"You're pretty," Lynn whispers, and despite the smell of anise Jade's stomach flips over itself.

"And you're drunk," she responds.

"Alec told me about you," Lynn goes on, as though Jade never called her sobriety into question. "He said you were popular."

"Popular may be a bit of a stretch," Jade says, disentangling the drunken girl from her arms. "I'm hardly that."

"You're no Therese Zeidan, that's for sure," Lynn giggles. "She's a bad lay."

Jade startles. "You've slept with Therese?"

"Who hasn't?" Lynn takes another swig from the bottle, which, now that Jade's looking, is mostly empty.

"So Alec Cole told you about me?" Jade asks, mostly just to change the subject. "Am I going to find him here, too?"

Lynn lets out a bark of laughter. "His scene is different. He smokes with the chess nerds."

"You learn something every day," Jade says.

"Of course," Lynn sways perilously on her too-high heels, emptying the bottle.

"You done?" Jade asks.

"I think so," Lynn shakes out the bottle onto the floor.

"Hmm," Jade taps her finger to her lip. "I think I'm taking you home."

"Oh, really?" Lynn winks at her, tossing the bottle into a nearby bin.

"Your home," Jade emphasizes. "You're drunk."

"Ha," Lynn says. "Want me to recite the alphabet backwards? I can."

"I don't doubt that," Jade says. "Let's get you home, anyway."

"I'm not sure where that is, exactly," Lynn says.

"That's okay, because I remember where it is," Jade says, taking Lynn's hand. Lynn is surprisingly steady for a drunk girl in six-inch heels.

"How?" Lynn asks, sounding more curious than anything else.

"This isn't my first time here," Jade says, getting in her car. Not the smartest decision to be sure, but the buzz from the absinthe is already fading.

Lynn falls asleep in the car. Jade glances over at her, small snores escaping her mouth. "You're not going to remember any of this in the morning," she says. Lynn makes a small sound.

"And to think I wondered if you drank," Jade says.

_____

Lynn wakes up with a killer hangover. Not a new feeling, but hardly pleasant.

A glass of water and some Advil sits on her bedside table, and she thanks all the gods she knows before downing both.

Her head continues to throb, and she suppresses the urge to puke.

What happened last night?

She remembers going to Therese's party with a bottle of absinthe, courtesy of her aunt's liquor cabinet. She doesn't remember much after that, only loud music and a pretty girl.

Did she sleep with someone last night?

She can't have, because she's alone and not sticky. And clothed, she notes, looking at her dress.

So someone brought her home. And as her headache subsides a little, she remembers a little more -- not much, but a little more.

The predominant image is Jade's face. And, blurrily, the inside of a car she thinks is Jade's. And then, even more fuzzy, she thinks Jade might have said, "And to think I wondered if you drank."

"Fuck," Lynn says aloud. "Just. Fuck."

_____

A few days later, after getting out of AP Bio, Lynn feels a light tap on her shoulder, something vaguely soft shoved into her face.

It's her wallet. She looks up, a thank you on her lips, and sees Jade's retreating back.

It's disconcerting how much of Lynn's life she's lost to drunken blackouts. Like there are large gaps in her memory she will always struggle to fill, large holes that will always be void of anything substantial save for the lingering taste of alcohol, and, occasionally, the smell of gunpowder. She wonders what she did this time.

After AP Government, she skips English and goes outside, hunkers down behind the football stadium, lights a cigarette. It's a small and calming routine, and she feels the tension leave her shoulders, blood rushing to her head.

It's a nasty habit, really. Probably worse than the drinking. But the smoke warms her more deeply than anything else she can think of.

She takes a couple more drags, then when she hears footsteps, she freezes, the cigarette dangling from her fingers. She only relaxes a little bit when she realizes it's Jade.

"I didn't realize you smoked," Jade says, looking at the cigarette with mild distaste.

Lynn exhales, pale blue smoke swirling away from her mouth in its cloud. "Don't ask questions if the answer's painfully obvious," she says.

"Smoking's bad for you," Jade wrinkles her nose.

"Don't I know it," Lynn says. "I didn't realize you skipped class, Varsity."

Jade looks embarrassed. "I don't usually."

"Special occasion today?" Lynn asks, stretching.

"I saw you leaving and I wanted to see if you were okay," Jade mumbles.

"Sorry?" Lynn asks.

"I'm not saying it again," Jade tosses her hair back.

"Ah," Lynn says. "So it was you who took me home."

"Well, I couldn't just leave you, could I?" Jade picks at a hangnail.

"You could've," Lynn shrugs. "It's not uncommon."

Jade peers at her. "That's really not healthy."

"Did you just come out here to grill me on my problematic decision making?" Lynn says, irritated.

"You said it, not me," Jade says.

"To think I thought you were pretty," Lynn says.

"At least I'm not a chronic binge drinker," Jade says.

Lynn reflects on this as she takes another drag, slow and purposeful.

"I guess so," she leaves the cigarette in her mouth, closing her eyes. "You wouldn't be totally wrong."

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Re: Leather Jackets and Feminism: An Anaphora AU

Post by WritingBookworm on Wed Mar 22, 2017 5:21 pm

After joking about it a lot, it's so awesome to see an actual Anaphora AU in the flesh. Very Happy This is wonderful! Can't wait for the rest!

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Re: Leather Jackets and Feminism: An Anaphora AU

Post by Captain Whitehawk on Sat May 06, 2017 7:33 pm

This is good stuff. I request more.

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Re: Leather Jackets and Feminism: An Anaphora AU

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