The bus trundles through the streets, seemingly going out of its way to hit every pothole in the street. By the time it actually arrives at school, your head is pulsing again— not as badly as it was yesterday, but worse than it has been all morning. Damn it.
Your headache continues through the first half of school. First period isn't too bad, because you have Madison sitting beside you— and while she can't cure your headache, she can at least provide you with hugs— but the next three periods seem to drag on. You find yourself wishing that you have Chemistry on Thursdays, but sadly, no. Thursday is double English instead.
By the time fourth period is over, your headache has become bad enough again that rather than head straight off to meet up with Madison, you make a little side-trip off to the bathroom so Madison can't see you taking your painkillers out of your bag. You're still not sure if they're actually helping.
Almost as soon as you step into the bathroom, you come to a stop as you see Emma standing in there ahead of you, eyes squeezed closed as she clutches at the sides of the bathroom sink.
For a moment, you're seriously tempted to just turn around and walk back out, screw the pills. Your headache is bad enough already. You don't need to deal with Emma on top of it. But then you ball your hands into fists at your side for a moment, and you let out a silent sigh. Okay, that's a bit of a lie. You do need to deal with Emma. It's just that you'd prefer to do that when you're not already trying to ward off an enormous headache.
But now that the opportunity has presented itself, you shouldn't walk away from it. It's— it's not a good habit for you to get in. If you walk away now, who knows when you'll be able to actually work up the nerve to talk to her?
You step further into the bathroom, allowing the door to close behind you with a loud squeal. Emma's eyes snap open immediately, darting to look at you as she opens her mouth. When she sees you, her jaw snaps shut, and she whirls to look at you.
"Taylor," she says. You don't even need to hear the tone of her voice to know how surprised she is.
"Emma," you reply neutrally. You avoid her attempts to catch your gaze as you move over to one of the other sinks in the bathroom and lift your bag up onto the counter. From the corner of your eye, you can see her stiffen when you pull the bottle of pills out. She doesn't say anything, though, which you're grateful for. it does look kind of suspicious, though. "... They're just painkillers." After you tap two of the pills out onto your palm, you slide the bottle over to her, allowing her to read the label.
You hear the rattle of pills as she lifts it up. Then, "Oh. Are you hurt?"
You shake your head and ignore the feeling of light-headedness that comes with the movement as you hold your hand out. "Just a headache." She places the bottle back in your hand, and you tuck it back in the front compartment of your bag, where you zip it back up.
She studies you. You can see her out of the corner of her eye. "Is there anything wrong?" she asks eventually. You scoff, and she makes a funny movement with her mouth, more a grimace than a smirk. "Yeah. Sorry. Stupid question. Is there— sorry."
Waving your hand in her direction, you hesitate. Then, eventually, you turn to look at her fully.
She's— well. You wish you could say she's a wreck (and doesn't that statement make you feel shitty), but she doesn't. She looks as impeccable as ever, with her luxurious hair and her subtle eye shadow and her stupidly kissable lips that you definitely do not look at at all, no sirree.
That doesn't mean she's looking fine, though. Probably nobody else could see it, but she's wearing too much makeup. Emma's never been the kind of girl to wear a lot of makeup— she doesn't really need to. The last time she'd worn this much makeup, it'd been the one-month anniversary of Mom's death.
Silence hangs between the two of you for a short while. You're tempted to leave— and you do need to leave, Madison is waiting for you— but you kind of don't want to. This is... this isn't nice, really, but it's the nicest moment you've had with Emma in a long while.
If this headache is good for one thing, it's that your head hurts too much for you to really focus on how much seeing Emma hurts.
You brush your fingers against your phone in your pocket, idly feeling it for a moment. There's a text from Victoria waiting for you there, but you can get to that soon.
Before you can think better of it, you pull your phone out and shove it across the counter to Emma. She blinks at it, looking down, then gives you a confused look.
"Put your number in it," you say quietly, very deliberately looking away from Emma down towards the bench. "I'll send you mine."
There's silence for a moment. Then, "Taylor-"
You still don't look up at her. "No more than two texts a day, Emma," you tell her. You're not sure if you sound commanding or pleading, but either way, she doesn't say anything, and a couple of seconds later you can see her hand reach down and grab your phone. It doesn't take long for her to enter her number into it, and soon she's reaching over and placing your phone in front of you.
"Thank you." Her voice is steady, but you can hear a faint tremor in it. You don't reply. You just pick up your phone, turn around, and walk out, clutching your phone tightly in your hand.
It's easier to communicate with Emma by text, but that doesn't mean it's easy. When she texts you first thing on Friday morning— well, first thing for her, you're already heading to work by the time she sends you a text— you feel a sharp stab of anxiety. It takes you five minutes just to open the text and read the simple "Good morning, Taylor. I hope you slept well" that she sent you, and another three minutes beyond that to send her a simple "Good morning. I slept fine. Hope you slept well." back.
It's frustrating that you even struggle with this at all, but— progress is progress. Any communication with Emma, however stilted, has the potential to lead to more. Slowly, yes, but slow is fine.
Also, it gives you something to think about during the day when you're not around Madison. Your headache has faded enough that work isn't any more unpleasant than it has been any other day— not gone entirely, but it's faded enough that you don't feel light-headed every time you move— so you actually can focus on other things.
There's not much you can really do for most of the day, though. It's tempting to pick up a hobby, like writing or drawing, just so you have something to do during those classes where you've already covered the material and you end up sitting bored and listless for the next hour. You can occupy yourself during the first period by rubbing little shapes over Madison's stomach— the teacher seems to be too tired to even shake his head when he walks around to find you with your arm wrapped around your girl— and fourth period has Sophia to distract you, but during the rest of the day, there's absolutely nothing to do.
Which is why it's a relief when the bell finally rings, and you're able to go to the library. You might have learned all this stuff already, but Madison is still struggling with it, and helping your girl to improve her grades is always a worthwhile endeavour.
Then you're on home, where you're greeted with another pleasant sight you'd almost managed to forget; Sophia is sitting on your front doorstep, tapping her foot impatiently.
"Wow, Hebert," she lightly mocks you as you jog up to her. "Took your time, didn't you?"
You shrug at her as you step past her, taking your keys out of your pocket. "I was tutoring Madison," you say by way of apology. "You could have texted me if you were wondering where I was."
She shrugs. "Could have," she half-agrees. "Got out of the track meeting a bit early, but I haven't been waiting too long." She unconsciously shivers as you lead her into your house.
For a moment, you scrabble for something to talk about as you lead her to your kitchen so you can get a cup of coffee to wash your painkillers down with. You can't think of anything, until words leave your mouth unbidden. "Hey, Sophia, who would I talk to at school if I wanted to know who's in the gangs at school?"
She gives you a strange look. "Why d'you want to know?"
You shrug. At least it's an easy one to make an excuse for, considering— "Dad's in the Dockworker's Union. I just want to get an idea of who he shouldn't look at hiring if they come to him."
Sophia can probably tell it's a bullshit excuse, but after a moment of staring at you with a knitted brow, she lets it pass. "Whatever," she says, with a roll of her eyes. "Be careful who you ask that kind of thing around, Hebert. Some people might take it wrong. Don't ask around the upperclassmen. Try the newer kids. You got the Jewish thing going on, you might be able to ask some of the first-years and pass it off."
"Hey, I'm not Jewish," you protest. She raises her eyebrow at you, and you let out a small huff as her lip curls. You pout at her.
"Whatever you say," she remarks in a teasing tone. "Just try and avoid getting beaten up. I can't babysit you all day, and I'd hate to have to find a new tutor."
"You don't babysit me," you whine a little. She just smirks in response.
All in all, it turns out to be a pretty good Friday. Not good enough to make up for the rest of the shitty week, but at least you had one good day this week— and now you know the limits of your power. Maybe. Kind of. You have a better idea of them, anyway.
And you're in contact with Emma again, if stiffly and remotely. That's... something.
Regardless, the week is over now. You just have to plan out your weekend.
So what are you going to do during it? [Pick three of the following options. You have two small expenses available to you.]
[] You're going to buy one of your girls a present. They've all been good girls, except Emma, and they deserve something nice. [Write-in. Who are you going to buy a present, and what will the present be? Keep in mind it should cost no more than around $25.]
— General results: Varies based on who the present is for and what the present is. Suggestions can be submitted in-thread and evaluated to see if they serve the intended purpose.
[] You're going to buy Madison something special, to commemorate last week. The two of you are... closer, somehow. You don't know. But you claimed her, last week, and she opened herself up to you. Now, you're going to complete that. Mark her as yours, as permanently as you can.
[] You'll do so subtly— with just a small, cheap silver pendant. There's one on special downtown, according to one of the pamphlets from the mail, and while you don't have a proper engraving kit, you think you can carve your initials into the back of it.
[] You'll do so overtly, a reminder not just to Madison, but to anyone who thinks of trying to take her for themselves. You'll buy her a choker, with a small tag on it; and you're going to write your name on the tag. See if anyone mistakes her as being anything other than yours then.
[] It's time for Victoria's book club again! And, of course, what comes after. You didn't finish reading the second book in the series she loaned you, but you're a good way through it. You have a lot to talk to her about, now. And, you hope, there's always the chance that Victoria might take her shirt off for you again.
— Success chance: Cannot be failed.
— General results: Taylor will continue to show Victoria that she does like engaging Victoria as a person, not just a sexual object. Victoria will continue to give more of herself to Taylor in turn. May result in a scene in which Victoria tries to assuage Taylor's complex about her flat chest.
[] Taylor has been growing increasingly bored at school. Now, she's going to find something for her to do, by travelling to the local library and borrowing some books on business management and administration. It won't tell her how to run her team directly, but it's one step down that path.
— Success chance: Cannot be failed.
— General results: Provides the second of three instances needed for Taylor to learn the skills she needs to run her hero team somewhat effectively. Quite a few opportunities do still remain. Also gives something for Taylor to do when she is bored in class.
[] Dad was really nice during the week, when you had your headache. Maybe you should do something nice in return. It probably won't get the two of you talking again immediately, but it might soften things between the two of you again, a little.
— Success chance: Cannot be failed.
— General results: Taylor will try to help out around the house. Will result in the relationship between Danny and Taylor being healed a little more.
2.3
Spoiler: Winning Votes
[] It's time for Victoria's book club again! And, of course, what comes after. You didn't finish reading the second book in the series she loaned you, but you're a good way through it. You have a lot to talk to her about, now. And, you hope, there's always the chance that Victoria might take her shirt off for you again.
[] Taylor has been growing increasingly bored at school. Now, she's going to find something for her to do, by travelling to the local library and borrowing some books on business management and administration. It won't tell her how to run her team directly, but it's one step down that path.
[] Dad was really nice during the week, when you had your headache. Maybe you should do something nice in return. It probably won't get the two of you talking again immediately, but it might soften things between the two of you again, a little. Saturday morning arrives with little more fanfare than the trilling of your alarm clock. You reach over and quickly press the alarm off, giving your clock a bleary and irritated glare as you do. Why do alarm clocks have such an annoying noise programmed into them, anyway?
Grumbling silently to yourself, you roughly toss your covers back, immediately regretting it when you're hit with a sudden blast of cold. Trying to ignore the goosebumps rising on your skin, you quickly climb out of bed and scurry over to your dresser, where you draw your clothing for the day out— a plain blue long-sleeved shirt and a pair of warm but ratty pants you'd be ashamed to be seen in outside. Luckily, you're not planning to go outside today, so that's fine. You set those clothes out on your bed, then pull out another set of clothing— this time tighter pants and a regular t-shirt— and make your way outside.
Your headache has nearly entirely faded now. You still feel a soft ache deep in the back of your head, but it's not sending out pulses of pain any more. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to tempt it to come back out— yeah, no, definitely not— but it's nearly gone.
