Eggnog 2: Bodies
Title: Bodies
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Eggnog 2 (deck the halls), malt (Presents: for Ivy from Isabella: a set of brass knuckles), whipped cream (Ivy's fifteen-sixteen), fresh pineapple (Bodies, Drowning Pool).
Word Count: 1009
Rating: R for homophobic language, sexual threats and violence.
Summary: Ivy protects her girlfriend, and gets in over her head.
Notes: Someday I will actually post one of these before midnight.
WARNING for homophobic language and sexual threats.
"Hey," Ivy said, put her tray down, and dropped down beside her girlfriend at the lunch table. "How're you doing?"
Shannon shrugged, without looking up, and took the ends of her curly blonde ponytail out of her mouth long enough to say, "Okay."
Ivy knew she was lying. Aside from the hair-chewing, she was stirring her applesauce without eating it-- which, okay, it wasn't like eating the applesauce was a good idea at their school, but usually Shannon just left it alone. Messing with her food meant she was worried about something.
"Uh-huh," Ivy said, and poked dubiously at her own lunch. "How're you really?"
Shannon huffed a sigh, and took the ends of her hair out of her mouth again. "I said I was fine."
"Yeah," Ivy said, "but you were lying."
"It doesn't matter, okay?" Shannon pulled her fork out of her applesauce and began determinedly eating her green beans. "Just drop it."
"Um." Ivy decided her lunch was better left unbraved for a moment and put her plastic fork down. "I'm new at this whole dating thing, but I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to ignore your girlfriend when she says she's not okay just because she says she is."
Shannon sighed again, and flicked her ponytail back over her shoulder. "Whatever. I don't really want to talk about it."
"Okay," Ivy said, and because she could recognize a hint when it was hurled at her, changed the subject. "You want to go to the winter formal together?"
"No," Shannon said.
Ivy frowned, confused and a little hurt. "Why not? Did I do something to upset you?"
"No," Shannon repeated, stabbing her green beans with more than necessary force. "It's got nothing to do with you."
"I'm the one you're not going to winter formal with," Ivy said. "And I was looking forward to getting all dressed up. I'd say it's got something to do with me."
Shannon pressed her lips together. "Go by yourself. You can deal with..." She stopped talking, then began poking at her applesauce again.
Ivy frowned again, deeper. "Deal with what?"
"It doesn't..." Shannon trailed off, then slammed her fork down on the table so hard it snapped. Ivy jumped. "Okay, you know what? Fine. Mike Blake and those basketball bastards he hangs around with called me a dyke this morning, okay? Are you happy?"
Ivy blinked. "You're not going to the winter formal with me because some asshole called you a dyke?"
"No," Shannon said, through her teeth. "I'm not going to the winter formal with you because I don't like being called a dyke."
"Oh," Ivy said. "Well, I can fix that." She got up, picked up her lunch tray, and carried it over to the trash.
"Ivy," Shannon called, sounding tired. "What are you going to do?"
Ivy smiled at her, angelically. "I'm just going to go tell Mike that dyke is a hurtful word and he shouldn't use it."
Shannon looked at her for a long moment. "Whatever," she said, at last. "I'm still not going to the dance with you."
Ivy shrugged, and dumped her lunch in the trash. She had time to convince Shannon after she taught Mike the error of his ways.
--
She decided to wait for the end of the day to confront them. Mike and his buddies usually hung out in the gym after school let out, and she knew she could find them there.
Sure enough, after last bell, there they were, talking shit and shooting baskets before practice. Ivy, lurking in the gym door, watched as Seth Adaya dunked a basket under Mike's nose.
"You asshole!" Mike yelled. "That was mine!"
"Whatever, man," Seth said, grinning, and dribbled the ball. "Maybe if you actually got off your fat ass."
"Fuck off, faggot," Mike said.
Ivy inhaled, deeply, and clenched her hands in her pockets. She had to stay calm. Remain nonconfrontational. That's what her parents would want.
She stepped forward into the gym, and in her calmest voice, said, "You know, that's a very hurtful word."
Mike turned around and squinted at her, then grinned. "Hey, look, guys, it's the other half of the dyke duo!"
Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. "That's also a very hurtful word," Ivy said. "You really upset Shannon. I think you should apologize."
The five of them stared at her for a moment, then Mike laughed. "Really? You're serious? Like hell I'm going to apologize for telling it like it is."
"A dyke," Ivy said, in precise tones, "is a natural or artificial wall used to keep out water, prominently found in the Netherlands. It's not a woman."
But the guys were laughing. "Dykes in the Netherlands!" Seth chortled.
"Yeah yeah yeah," Mike said, "and some guy sticks a finger in one!" He leered at Ivy. "Is that why you came around, dyke? You want me to stick a finger in you."
Without conscious thought, Ivy slipped her fingers through the brass knuckles she carried in her coat pocket, and clenched her fists tight. "That's sexual harassment," she said, levelly. "I'm telling you right now to stop."
"Or what?" Mike stopped laughing and loomed up in front of her. "Or what, dyke? You gonna report me? You do that and I'll teach you better."
She did not step back. She refused to step back. "Back the hell off me," she said. "And back the hell off Shannon."
"Oh, Shannon, your little dyke girlfriend." Mike grinned. "Hot piece of ass, that one. Somebody should fuck her straight." He looked down at Ivy. "Hell, I might even do you a favor and show you what a real man's like. You want a good fucking?" He reached out for her.
Ivy hit him.
Twice, in rapid succession-- once in the belly, once to the jaw. It wasn't until he sank screaming to the floor that she remembered she'd been wearing the knuckles.
The other four boys were yelling, their attention all on Mike, so she stuck her hand back in her pocket and slid the knuckles off as fast as she could, shaking with adrenaline. "I warned you," she said, even her voice shaking. "I fucking warned you. You stay away from me, you stay away from Shannon."
"You broke my fucking jaw!" Mike screamed.
She rolled her eyes. "If you can talk I didn't break anything. Stay the fuck away from us." He spat at her-- she drew her foot back threateningly, and he flinched. "Promise!"
"Crazy bitch!" Seth yelled at her. "You fucking crazy bitch!"
"I promise!" Mike half-wailed.
"Fuck you," Ivy told them both, then turned on her heel, and left.
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Eggnog 2 (deck the halls), malt (Presents: for Ivy from Isabella: a set of brass knuckles), whipped cream (Ivy's fifteen-sixteen), fresh pineapple (Bodies, Drowning Pool).
Word Count: 1009
Rating: R for homophobic language, sexual threats and violence.
Summary: Ivy protects her girlfriend, and gets in over her head.
Notes: Someday I will actually post one of these before midnight.
WARNING for homophobic language and sexual threats.
"Hey," Ivy said, put her tray down, and dropped down beside her girlfriend at the lunch table. "How're you doing?"
Shannon shrugged, without looking up, and took the ends of her curly blonde ponytail out of her mouth long enough to say, "Okay."
Ivy knew she was lying. Aside from the hair-chewing, she was stirring her applesauce without eating it-- which, okay, it wasn't like eating the applesauce was a good idea at their school, but usually Shannon just left it alone. Messing with her food meant she was worried about something.
"Uh-huh," Ivy said, and poked dubiously at her own lunch. "How're you really?"
Shannon huffed a sigh, and took the ends of her hair out of her mouth again. "I said I was fine."
"Yeah," Ivy said, "but you were lying."
"It doesn't matter, okay?" Shannon pulled her fork out of her applesauce and began determinedly eating her green beans. "Just drop it."
"Um." Ivy decided her lunch was better left unbraved for a moment and put her plastic fork down. "I'm new at this whole dating thing, but I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to ignore your girlfriend when she says she's not okay just because she says she is."
Shannon sighed again, and flicked her ponytail back over her shoulder. "Whatever. I don't really want to talk about it."
"Okay," Ivy said, and because she could recognize a hint when it was hurled at her, changed the subject. "You want to go to the winter formal together?"
"No," Shannon said.
Ivy frowned, confused and a little hurt. "Why not? Did I do something to upset you?"
"No," Shannon repeated, stabbing her green beans with more than necessary force. "It's got nothing to do with you."
"I'm the one you're not going to winter formal with," Ivy said. "And I was looking forward to getting all dressed up. I'd say it's got something to do with me."
Shannon pressed her lips together. "Go by yourself. You can deal with..." She stopped talking, then began poking at her applesauce again.
Ivy frowned again, deeper. "Deal with what?"
"It doesn't..." Shannon trailed off, then slammed her fork down on the table so hard it snapped. Ivy jumped. "Okay, you know what? Fine. Mike Blake and those basketball bastards he hangs around with called me a dyke this morning, okay? Are you happy?"
Ivy blinked. "You're not going to the winter formal with me because some asshole called you a dyke?"
"No," Shannon said, through her teeth. "I'm not going to the winter formal with you because I don't like being called a dyke."
"Oh," Ivy said. "Well, I can fix that." She got up, picked up her lunch tray, and carried it over to the trash.
"Ivy," Shannon called, sounding tired. "What are you going to do?"
Ivy smiled at her, angelically. "I'm just going to go tell Mike that dyke is a hurtful word and he shouldn't use it."
Shannon looked at her for a long moment. "Whatever," she said, at last. "I'm still not going to the dance with you."
Ivy shrugged, and dumped her lunch in the trash. She had time to convince Shannon after she taught Mike the error of his ways.
--
She decided to wait for the end of the day to confront them. Mike and his buddies usually hung out in the gym after school let out, and she knew she could find them there.
Sure enough, after last bell, there they were, talking shit and shooting baskets before practice. Ivy, lurking in the gym door, watched as Seth Adaya dunked a basket under Mike's nose.
"You asshole!" Mike yelled. "That was mine!"
"Whatever, man," Seth said, grinning, and dribbled the ball. "Maybe if you actually got off your fat ass."
"Fuck off, faggot," Mike said.
Ivy inhaled, deeply, and clenched her hands in her pockets. She had to stay calm. Remain nonconfrontational. That's what her parents would want.
She stepped forward into the gym, and in her calmest voice, said, "You know, that's a very hurtful word."
Mike turned around and squinted at her, then grinned. "Hey, look, guys, it's the other half of the dyke duo!"
Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. "That's also a very hurtful word," Ivy said. "You really upset Shannon. I think you should apologize."
The five of them stared at her for a moment, then Mike laughed. "Really? You're serious? Like hell I'm going to apologize for telling it like it is."
"A dyke," Ivy said, in precise tones, "is a natural or artificial wall used to keep out water, prominently found in the Netherlands. It's not a woman."
But the guys were laughing. "Dykes in the Netherlands!" Seth chortled.
"Yeah yeah yeah," Mike said, "and some guy sticks a finger in one!" He leered at Ivy. "Is that why you came around, dyke? You want me to stick a finger in you."
Without conscious thought, Ivy slipped her fingers through the brass knuckles she carried in her coat pocket, and clenched her fists tight. "That's sexual harassment," she said, levelly. "I'm telling you right now to stop."
"Or what?" Mike stopped laughing and loomed up in front of her. "Or what, dyke? You gonna report me? You do that and I'll teach you better."
She did not step back. She refused to step back. "Back the hell off me," she said. "And back the hell off Shannon."
"Oh, Shannon, your little dyke girlfriend." Mike grinned. "Hot piece of ass, that one. Somebody should fuck her straight." He looked down at Ivy. "Hell, I might even do you a favor and show you what a real man's like. You want a good fucking?" He reached out for her.
Ivy hit him.
Twice, in rapid succession-- once in the belly, once to the jaw. It wasn't until he sank screaming to the floor that she remembered she'd been wearing the knuckles.
The other four boys were yelling, their attention all on Mike, so she stuck her hand back in her pocket and slid the knuckles off as fast as she could, shaking with adrenaline. "I warned you," she said, even her voice shaking. "I fucking warned you. You stay away from me, you stay away from Shannon."
"You broke my fucking jaw!" Mike screamed.
She rolled her eyes. "If you can talk I didn't break anything. Stay the fuck away from us." He spat at her-- she drew her foot back threateningly, and he flinched. "Promise!"
"Crazy bitch!" Seth yelled at her. "You fucking crazy bitch!"
"I promise!" Mike half-wailed.
"Fuck you," Ivy told them both, then turned on her heel, and left.