Chapter 2 WTF just Happened??!

As I navigated the crowded hallways, bracing myself against the current of students, a familiar voice cut through the din. "Look who I ran into? The cheerleader queen Brooklyn and her little girlfriend."

Penelope Swinton stood there, draped in an aura of disdain, her entourage flanking her like a pair of ominous shadows. "That explains the stench of cheap perfume from miles away," she sneered, her gaze piercing through me as if I were nothing more than an inconvenience in her day.

Penelope, with her slight resemblance to Jessica Alba—albeit the Latin American version—carried herself with the arrogance only a legacy such as hers could bestow. She hailed from one of the town's oldest families, her ancestors once the unchallenged rulers of this small domain. She embodied the quintessential spoiled rich girl, finding delight in belittling others for her amusement.

It was not out of character for someone of her demeanor to be labeled a 'mean girl,' especially Penelope, whose very essence seemed laced with malice. Her popularity once knew no bounds, the kind that had boys dueling for her attention and girls envying her every step.

Yet, in a turn of events that shocked the entire school, she chose chaos over charm, her boyfriend more delinquent than prince. It seemed her taste in partners matched her flawed personality.

As the reigning cheerleader captain at Wendell High, she was on the verge of securing a second term until Brooklyn appeared on the scene, challenging her position and nearly succeeding in her ouster from the squad. Without the Swinton name and its associated clout in Wendell Town, Penelope would have found herself cast out from the elite circle.

Brooklyn, in contrast, had it all: the adoration, the captainship, and even the heart of the football team captain. Penelope, meanwhile, was left grappling with the remnants of her crumbling social empire, her relationships as unstable as her temperament.

And me? I remained Scarlett, inadvertently becoming Penelope's target whenever she felt the need to assert her dwindling dominance. Brooklyn would intervene, but only in her presence did I find solace. In her absence, Penelope's venom knew no bounds.

The bystanders? Merely spectators to Penelope's tyranny, their silence a testament to the power she wielded, however diminishing it may have been.

"Oh, Penelope," Brooklyn interjected with a tone that brokered no argument, "Don't forget cheer practice this afternoon. Don't be late again, you know our rules." Her voice carried a warning, one that Penelope, despite her bravado, could not ignore.

"I think you're well aware of the consequences of not adhering to them. After all, you've got a wealth of experience in that area," Brooklyn continued, her words dripping with unspoken threats.

Penelope's response was a veneer of composure, a mask that barely concealed her brewing storm. "Whatever you say, Bitch," her expression seemed to declare, though the words remained unspoken.

"Since you're here, let me announce something," Brooklyn stated, her eyes briefly meeting mine before settling on Penelope with a look of triumphant authority. This spelled trouble.

"Scarlett is the new member of the cheer squad. Your latest competition. A candidate for vice-captain."

"What?!!" The word escaped my lips before I could contain it, echoing off the locker-lined walls.

Brooklyn's hand found my shoulder, her touch a signal of solidarity and a prelude to the battles we would face together. It was our silent agreement, a pact forged in the unspoken understanding that no matter what, we'd stand united.

As I mentally prepared myself for the onslaught to come, I couldn't help but wonder, Can I say FUCK now?

I mean, in my head.