Chapter 1
“Mother,” Caitlyn seethes through her teeth, “Is the compromise I’ve proposed not enough to settle this argument?”
She stared at the grey-haired woman standing tall at the end of the corridor. Her mother’s lips were pressed thin and her eyes were haggard as she peered onto Caitlyn’s face with an intensity that could cut a blade through fawn-coloured skin.
“You are a governor’s daughter. It is imperative you act with some semblance of dignity if you wish to receive any access to your inheritance.”
Caitlyn scoffed. “I thought we’ve already discussed that I’ll pursue political science for my undergrad if you do not impose onto me the career you desire I have.”
Cassandra folded her hands to the front of her pencil skirt. “That is not enough.”
A tightness thrummed through Caitlyn’s head and an ache settled in her jaw. “Nothing’s ever enough for you.”
“Aside from your studies, are you willing to straighten up your act? We are being watched with every step that we take. I’ve given you enough grace keeping you here in Piltover when I could have sent you overseas after your catastrophe at Ivoryspire.” Cassandra spit out catastrophe like the shell of a sunflower seed stuck to her tongue.
Caitlyn felt a heavy pit in her chest, and she knew her shame had crawled out of the graves she dug. It did not seem to want to stay buried there. Her lips parted, ready to missile fuel into the fire. “Just like Medarda? I’m sure you regret not shipping me off to a foreign land where their eyes would be plucked out before they could ever land their gaze on me and their gossip dies before it reaches any ears. Just so I won’t drag down the Kiramman name.”
Cassandra furrowed her brows. “Your stubborn attitude and volatile mouth will spoil your future.”
“And your ignorance has rendered any conversation between the two of us useless.”
Caitlyn attempted to slam one side of the double doors shut, the sleek surface of the heavy macassar ebony kissing her skin gentle unlike the shove of her palm. She hurried to her vehicle as the tears that swelled on her waterline threatened to fall.
When she buckled herself into the driver’s seat, her hands skimmed above her to pull her mirror down before hastily rummaging in her makeup bag for reapplication. Caitlyn met her own reflection past the slight blur of her vision, checking to see if her mascara or eyeliner had run. It was fortunate that nothing had to be retouched much. The dusting of copper pigment on her lids complimented the rich cerulean of her eyes, the colour highlighted with champagne shimmer on the inner corners. The fight with her mother had delayed her morning routine, and she found herself to be nearly late to school. If she risked a tardy, she was at least going to show up like she was done up. The dark blue strands of her hair were neatly gathered into a ponytail where loose sections framed her face in the front, and she thought of it as adequate enough.
She found no time to set her music on the thirty minute drive to Stillwater, already overwhelmed with the noise of the morning. She drove through Upper City Piltover until she reached the town of Stillwater, just before the city of Zaun. Stillwater SAS was plastered in huge, neat letters across the elaborate front of the main building, old with the elegance of the original Piltovan-styled build and decor, but recently reconstructed with the modern and urban industrial style of Zaunite architecture. Stillwater School of Arts and Sciences had phenomenal gifted programs for students of high intellect and creativity, offering Zaunite students scholarships and opportunities to boost their academic careers, as well as giving them a shot at a better life and upward mobility in their socioeconomic status. For Upper City Piltovan students like Caitlyn, it was assumed they only attended to have the high school’s programs gleam bright in their resume to set them apart from other Piltovan students. It was obvious they were not native to Stillwater, since Stillwater was on the outskirts of a city beaming with abundance, all while cosily neighbouring a city with an unstable history of corruption and poverty running through its veins.
Caitlyn made her way inside, straightening her navy pleated skirt and matching cropped blazer. Her black turtleneck hugged her skin, accentuating the curves and dips of her torso, and her black boots that resembled the equestrian pair she wore for horseback riding clacked against the floor as she rushed to get to her first hour.
She stepped inside room 516 just as the bell rang, and it felt like all eyes were on her. She felt like she was starting to get sick. The last thing she needed after an unpleasant morning was unnecessary attention in class. A short and slightly plump woman with kind eyes stood from her chair in her corner office. She had glasses and auburn curls that fell past her shoulders. She looked like the offspring of a gnome and a fairy, but Caitlyn made sure to keep that to herself in case it came out wrong. It seemed like these days, anything she said was vulnerable to be taken wrong.
The woman spoke with a soft tone, “Hi, welcome! I was just about to take attendance.” She paused as she scanned the room. “This class must seem packed, but there’s a seat right there next to Violet.”
Caitlyn shifted her gaze to where the teacher, she assumed, pointed, and was met with stone-grey eyes that stared back. Only though, those eyes eventually ran down her body and Caitlyn felt a bit too self-conscious of the clothes on her body and the way they clung to her skin. She glanced at her seat, feeling awkward, and sat next to that same grey-eyed girl with pomegranate-coloured hair swept to one side, the other shaven. Caitlyn couldn’t help but notice the piercings that donned her skin and the freckles that littered across her face like stars in the night sky. She might have been a bit more shameless and continued staring rudely while rambling poetic descriptions in her head if it weren’t for the predicament she was in.
There was a poke at her arm.
“Hey, I’m Vi. You look familiar, have I seen you around here?”
Caitlyn mentally steadied herself before she replied. “I’ve been here. I transferred here my sophomore year.
Vi raised a brow. “Most kids here have gone to school in the same district their whole life.”
Caitlyn didn’t respond, uncomfortable at her own lack of a response. She usually knew how to continue a conversation, but there was something about the girl in front of her that etched her into Caitlyn’s mind and left her at a loss for words, and she realised it was how interesting she thought the girl appeared. Vi resembled everything Caitlyn was forbidden from. To cut and style her hair like that, to wear clothes that seemed intentionally frayed, even down to the piercings that she confidently displayed. Her own additional piercings she recently had gotten led to the argument that resulted before she left home. It was the small details her mother noticed that ticked her off, setting off multiple bombs like a kingdom of dominoes falling apart.
“So you’re from Topside, Barbie?”
Caitlyn glanced across from Vi where the male voice had sounded, and grimaced at the nickname when she processed the question.
She glared at the boy. “I have a name, and it’s not Barbie.”
The boy had a widow’s peak lining his head of brown hair, and he gave a laugh that added onto the irritation Caitlyn had been collecting since the morning. “Well I have a name and it’s Mylo. You still haven’t answered my question. Don’t think you need to though, I know you’re a Topsider just from your shoes.”
Caitlyn stopped herself from nearly grinding her teeth, knowing she had to keep her composure. She was not going to allow a teenage boy to be the reason she ends up behind bars or in a psychiatric ward, and she certainly did not want to add to the list of things to be lectured by her mother about. “Where is the correlation?”
Mylo smirked, leaning his posture into his desk. “I’ve stolen shoes from a Piltie with the same logo as yours.” All of a sudden, he pushed himself back to his chair with his hands cradling behind his head. “It was a real loaded Piltie too. Loaded enough to leave his mansion alone for an entire week to go to some vacay house on the beach.”
Caitlyn’s eyes widened at the admission before narrowing them at the boy. “You find it humorous to break in and steal from someone else’s home? Why in the madness would you do that? I don’t need to know about your heathen activities.”
“Woah, woah, Princess.” Caitlyn scoffed again at another nickname, left off the lips of a different person this time. Before she could object to being called anything besides her actual name, Vi cut in. “He’s messing with you. We can tell by your accent. You don’t sound like most of us here. It’s a fancier accent than the fancy ones. No need to get fired up.”
Caitlyn huffed lightly. “And why should I trust you’re telling the truth? I can easily believe it.”
She took in Vi’s facial expression and assessed that the girl did not like what she said.
“It’s not that serious. Take it easy on the first day back.”
Caitlyn wanted to say something in protest until the teacher started loudly tapping on the smart board and gave instructions to the class about the syllabus for the semester. She did her best to not let it get to her. When the teacher, Ms. Davis, finished going over the syllabus, Caitlyn lost track of how much time had passed. She didn’t know a creative writing class she took to fill up her schedule would require an extensive presentation on what they would be writing over the next few months.
Somewhere during the time the teacher spent explaining the syllabus, Vi had taken off the red hoodie she was wearing and now was laying her head in her arms, eyes closed. Caitlyn took an abrupt inhale when she saw that the girl had only a grey tank top on, but it was the black ink that stretched across the firm muscles of her arms that left her forgetting her senses. How beautiful, she thought to herself. It felt like there was a pinch inside her chest, but she couldn’t pinpoint what that feeling was. Perhaps, jealousy? She had always dreamed of ink marking her body in ornate shapes and designs, painting the canvas of her body with meaning and colour. Her mother would absolutely slaughter her if she had ever gotten tattooed. It was a danger she flirted with. She thought about the argument she had with her mother that morning. If such a reaction sprung simply from her mother finding out about her new piercings, she didn’t want to picture how her mother would react to inches of her skin covered with inked symbolism.
Caitlyn didn’t realise Vi had already opened her eyes, and she certainly was not aware that she made a face when thinking about her mother, still absentmindedly staring at Vi’s arms.
“I know you probably don’t think the highest of us ‘cause you’re a Topsider, but I don’t think I deserve to be judged for my tattoos just ‘cause Topside thinks they’re dirty.”
Caitlyn snapped out of her ruminating, her neck and face flushed at the realisation of being caught staring. She was even more embarrassed that Vi had misunderstood her and took it the wrong way. “No, it’s not like that, I don’t think they’re dirty—“
Vi held eye contact with Caitlyn for a moment before sighing. “Save the apologies for someone else. I don’t need to know you’re sorry. Probably just embarrassed you got caught,” she mumbled. Vi turned her head the other way to rest it again in her arms.
Though flustered, the bell rang before Caitlyn could correct Vi’s misunderstanding, and she was too emotionally exhausted from the morning she had to place someone else’s emotions before her own at the moment.
By the time the lunch period starts, Caitlyn thumbs through her contacts to find Mel Medarda. Her phone buzzes from the call, waiting for the girl on the other line to pick up.
“I was just about to call you.”
“Unfortunately, I got to it first. Are we heading out for lunch or are we staying in the cafeteria?”
“I mean, are you up to drive?”
Caitlyn sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead. “Honestly, not right now. I’ve got to rant to you, if you don’t mind, and I’m not in the proper headspace to provide my body with appropriate nutrition if I’m thinking about it while I’m driving a metal monster.”
“Metal monster is the cutest I’ve heard you call a car. Alright, I can meet up with you in the cafe. Same spot we always sit?”
“Yes, next to the large windows.”
“Of course. Feel free to tell me all about your troubles. I can tell by the sound of your voice that it’s weighing down on you.”
“Thank you, Mel. I’ll see you.”
“Mmh.”
The chatter of students rang throughout the spacious cafeteria like birds chirping in spring morning. It was autumn, and the trees had not yet fallen, but they were preparing to start shedding their green. Stillwater SAS was funded well enough to provide an array of dietary choices, but it was not the excess selection of culinary options Caitlyn was used to and preferred at the schools she attended before Stillwater. At least Stillwater was decent, or Cassandra would have never sent Caitlyn here. She opted for a hearty salad and some pastries on the side, with milk to down the sweetness. She made her way past huddles of students to the large windows where the sun shone through and brightened up the cafeteria with natural light.
Before she got to her seat though, she was stopped by a girl with long, loose red curls sporting blue denim jeans and a white blouse. It was the type of curls Caitlyn knew were achieved only through ironing your hair in the morning. Sarah Fortune was a busty girl and Caitlyn was telling herself to not accidentally glance down at her cleavage. It was not the redhead's fault she had a nice chest.
Caitlyn Kiramman, you are not a teenage boy—
“Hey, Kiramman. The cheer team wants to get one of our new routines posted on the stuco account. It’s part of this trend online. Our cheer page doesn’t have as many followers so it’d be nice to tag us from a bigger page.” The girl rested her hands on her hips with nonchalance.
“That’s alright, but Mel’s in charge of our social media account this year.”
“Yeah, but I figured you see her more often than I do, so could you ask her for us?”
Caitlyn blinked and replied, “Sure.” She didn’t understand why the girl couldn’t have just reached out to Mel about it instead of approaching her, but it wasn’t a topic important enough to linger on.
The girl smiled at Caitlyn, with the edges of her brick-red lip liner spreading across her face. “Thanks, girl. We’re sharing the field with the football team some days while the gym’s being renovated. Coach Sevika has a new schedule each week. See ya around.”
Caitlyn gave a swift smile back and redirected herself to where Mel waved at her. She slid into the red leather seats in the booth before setting down her meal. The dark-skinned girl sat across from her, gold threaded through her braids that fell down to her waist. Her nail tips were dipped in matching gold crescents in her signature French manicure, tapping on the table with a simple rhythm. Plum-coloured pigment was swept across her lids, complemented by gold eyeliner and inner corners. Her lips were glossy and lined with mauve-brown, contrasting the simple peach nude that glossed Caitlyn’s lips.
“Your choice is a salad, I see.” Mel smiled.
“It’s what I’ll have to settle with since we’re eating in the cafeteria today.” Caitlyn took a bite of her greens.
“It looks appetising, at least. Also, Heimerdinger wants us to promote homecoming in some way. I have an idea, but it’s going to require the graphics and media team.”
“As per usual.”
Mel looked behind Caitlyn and grinned. “Just in time for our talks about homecoming. Look who has finally arrived, our star quarterback.”
A voice boomed as the boy sat down in the booth beside Caitlyn. “No other than Jayce Talis! Oh, hey sprout!”
“Goodness, Jayce, half of the cafeteria’s staring,” Mel chuckled as Caitlyn rolled her eyes.
Jayce was built tough, and standing at six feet and two inches, he only hovered above the two girls by a little, unless they decided to wear heeled shoes. He wore the student athlete varsity jacket that was beige and red, the name “TALIS” spread on the back with blocky, white letters.
“What’s the talk about hoco?”
Mel placed down her cup of pink, fruity liquid and took out her phone. She glanced from the phone to Caitlyn and Jayce. “Heimerdinger wants the student council to promote homecoming, and I have a fantastic idea. You’re going to love this.” She points at Jayce. She leans in and puts her elbows on the table. “I’m thinking, student council should collaborate with the graphics and media team to film a miniature series of interviews. These interviews will be of the football team, conducted by student council members. So to make sure we garner as much video and commentary content as possible, each of us should be assigned to one football player. That way, it’ll be a streamlined process. I’ve already sent messages to the student council group chat about it. Jayce, you’re on the football team, so you won’t be interviewing anyone.”
Jayce grinned, showcasing a row of pearly-opal teeth. “Fine by me. I don’t have enough time in between practices and work to commit myself to full-time stuco duties anyway.”
It seemed to be a good idea, Caitlyn thought. It was a very Mel way of promoting the homecoming game and the Stillwater Hounds. If anything, she had not been in the mood to be in charge of managing a project like this, despite her role as student council president. During her junior year, she much preferred the ease in her role of secretary, but as ambitious as Caitlyn was, it did not satisfy her drive for her self-determined success. She was grateful she won the role in the tight run for presidency, but she wondered where all the confidence and energy she had for directing an entire team had gone off to. Perhaps, it ran and drove thirty minutes away from her like she did with her mother this morning.
“I like it,” Caitlyn adds. “We’re able to involve the students and community. Most students and parents follow the Stillwater Instagram page, and by promoting our football team, this also attracts publicity to our school.”
Mel hummed in agreement, then lowered her voice. “And, we’ll get individual attention on our football players. I’m sure there’s someone for most people. Some of them already have their own fan clubs.”
It wasn’t surprising that most of the athletes were considered generally attractive by the student body. The holler and cheer from the bleachers during games only supported that notion. They were fit, had classes purely for weightlifting and exercise that were required for students enrolled in varsity sports, and they had an intense drive for their athletics. People found passion attractive. They were already incessantly discussed and recorded on their school’s social media pages, with banners of their faces hanging from the gymnasium walls.
Jayce gleamed. “Not to toot my own horn, but there’s a lot of girls who come to our games. Girls that aren’t from Stillwater. That’s why I make sure to look incredible on and off the field on game days.”
“I’m sure a few attend for you, but I think they’re more interested in Vanderwick.” Mel halted. “No offense, Jayce, but I hope you know you have an Instagram page named girlsandgaysforjayce, and it seems to be mostly comprised of male followers.”
A groan escaped Jayce. “Come on, I don’t want to be reminded that she steals all the spotlight with the girls. They’re always swarming around her after the games. They’ve even asked for autographs. Autographs! While I stood right next to her! Where’s my time to shine?”
Caitlyn swiftly tapped her handkerchief on her lips and furrowed her brows. “Who’s Vanderwick?”
Mel gasped dramatically, her neatly manicured hand resting over her mouth. “Sweetheart, I know you could care less about our athletics because they don’t concern sharp shooting or archery, but I had assumed you would at least be familiar with our very own Hounds.”
The lipgloss Caitlyn reapplied was dropped into her purse. “I only attend the homecoming games, and the entire time, I’m nearly dozing off with boredom. I apologise if I can barely differentiate between any of the players when they look like little plastic army men. There are times when I notice Jayce on the field, but that’s because you point him out to me.”
The gold bangles on Mel clinked against each other as she reached to finish the last of the chocolate-covered strawberries she had brought from home. “Well, you’re going to have to study on our football team a little, including how the game works if you want to ensure you interview your football player authentically. You can’t just follow them around with a camera. Speaking of Vanderwick, she’s over there talking to Miss Cheer Captain.”
Caitlyn turns her head to follow Mel’s gaze behind her and spots Sarah, sitting on her cafeteria table, the sight of her nearly obscured by a red hoodie. The person facing Sarah has their hair swept to the side, the other shaven. “Are you talking about Violet?”
“She insists on being called Vi, but yes.”
The redheaded femme is seen giggling, placing a hand on Vi’s arm before slowly sliding her fingers down her sleeve. Caitlyn feels uncomfortable, once again, thinking about how nice it would be to have that confidence to flirt with another girl in public. To flirt with a girl, in general. She knew she had it within her, but god, was she an awkward person. It would be a nightmare to attempt to seduce someone while being monotone and stiff.
“Vi, right. She’s in my first hour, we sit right next to each other. What about her?”
“She’s the talk of lesbian town.”
“What, Portland, Oregon?” Jayce jokes.
Caitlyn fails to stifle a laugh, a hand pressed to her lips.
“I do get some lesbian humour, you know. Vi’s one of our linebackers. We’re pretty good friends.” The boy smiles, putting an arm on the top of the booth seat.
Caitlyn glanced back at the two who were still talking to each other, though she could only see Vi’s back rather than her face. She studied the way the girl stood, a relaxed confidence that permeated through her posture. Who would have known that underneath her hoodie, ink laid hidden and trailed down her skin like scripture. She noticed Vi took her hands out of her pockets and looked around, catching eye contact with her. Caitlyn immediately looked away, stabbing her fork into her soggy greens. She then returned to Mel. “Before I forget, Sarah stopped me earlier and mentioned the cheer team wants to post a routine on the student council page. Something about tagging their account, and how their Instagram doesn’t have as many followers as we do.”
“Hmm, okay,” the girl replied while packing up the box that held her lunch. “I’ll make a note to message her about it. By the way, what was worrying you this morning?”
It was the first day of her senior year and there already were so many responsibilities that awaited her. “It’s just my mother, nothing new.”
The two girls reveled in their shared disdain for the uptight personalities and expectations of their mothers, while Jayce took bites out of Caitlyn’s pastries without asking for permission. Caitlyn sneezed, and excused herself, not noticing the gaze that lingered on her back.