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Festive
AlteredTundra
LovelyComplex
Damycles
Mictlan93
Alby47
Master EffeXTIMESTAMP: Early Morning
Driving to school
Driving to school
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@NeoAJ @Fabricant451 @smarty0114 @Aewin @LovelyComplex
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@NeoAJ @Fabricant451 @smarty0114 @Aewin @LovelyComplex
Homecoming is a funny word to those who never lived long enough in a place to truly call somewhere home. There’s not a chance to build any meaningful connection to the location beforehand, so there’s not a tearful goodbye to all the memories that were made. They are just another blip in the winding road that continues to unfold before someone on the cusp of adulthood.
And yet here Indy Adams was, forgoing her usual preferred colors of blue, green, and white, and donning the red and black that was asked of all the BHHS students ahead of their homecoming game and dance.
Naomi Davis was insistent that Indy had to comply with the color scheme, even if her options were limited. The dyed blonde managed to find a couple of things that worked together. A red tank top and light black bomber jacket gave her both school spirit options on the top half of her body. However, they had to cover the blushes of the denim shorts below, her tanned legs sculpted by the last year of running on the beach, surfing the waves and jumping for spikes also showing a little bit of red on the exposed skin. Indy didn’t have any black pairs of shorts, something that certainly would draw another trip to the Mermaid’s Closet on the Queen's orders to rectify that fact. The black onyx necklace swayed slightly with the turns, breaking up the solid crimson on her torso. It wasn’t one of her best outfits, but it was good enough to get her into Naomi’s car that morning and make sure that she didn’t have to take an Uber to school.
Indy was behind the passenger seat, the front seat in the clique’s ride already occupied as it usually was by the Hive’s second-in-command Levi Green-Locke. Lottie Quinn was in the back with her, offering a potential buffer to the last member of the crew to be given a lift this morning. Indy was still a bit unfamiliar with some of the sights along the route taken to school. In the ten months since she arrived back in California from Australia, she had plenty of time to memorize the vegan donut shops and hypodermic spas along the way, and yet they kept changing names and types as fast as she could get them down in her head. Nothing was permanent here. Even the Hive, as ironclad as it seemed, had an expiration date. Somehow she was along for the ride, literally in this case, but she knew something was going to break it apart.
That was a thought for another day. Indy shook her head a little bit. Her grey eyes scanned around the neighborhood, trying not to focus on those terminal feelings. Clearly, she needed some more time on the beach than she had been getting.
“So, since this is my first actual homecoming event, what is it all about?” Indy asked, trying to get some clarity on what exactly her role was going to be. “Is it all just an excuse to get people riled up in the autumn? Or is there some sort of deeper significance that I’m not aware of yet?”
Levi turned to face Indy, smiling like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. His outfit was on theme as well (duh du jour); dark red shirt, top two buttons undone, and black, tailored pants, cuffed at the ankle. “You’re cute. The deeper significance is remembering the Pirates who came before us. That, and getting everybody riled up in the middle of autumn.” He turned back to face the winding roads of Angel’s suburbs. “Everybody else gets to watch Naomi and I win homecoming court, and then we all get to watch the serfs get sloppy drunk. I wish I could take credit for it, honestly. Pure American genius, that one.”
Indy dropped a chuckle at Levi’s summation but there was a hint of nervousness behind it. Between Naomi’s desire for a spotless crew and the currently absent Angel’s pious nature, the alcohol culture she had embraced during her time Down Under had no chance to flourish on the Puritan American shores. It had been nine months since she had really cut loose and joined the masses in drunken reveling, but the pleasure of the punch had to be sacrificed to maintain her current position. This was the last chance for her to have anything resembling a high-school social life. Even if she was surprised Naomi had summoned her to be part of one of the most popular cliques in the school, she didn’t want to throw it away to be left hanging with the stoners and washouts in the parking lot. She nodded at Levi’s assessment. “Yup, that tracks with what I know.”
Lottie shifted in the backseat, smoothing down the red and black plaid skirt that she had chosen for the day. Despite Naomi's insistence on following the school colors, she had managed to bend the school rules ever so slightly by pairing the skirt with a tight, semi-sheer black turtleneck that clung to her figure. Over it was a cropped red blazer that narrowly avoided getting her dress-coded for said semi-sheer turtleneck. Her black knee-high boots with a stiletto heel completed the look, giving her a few extra inches of height.
Tossing her brown curls over one shoulder, she let out a soft giggle at Levi's response to Indy. "Hehe, he's not wrong! Homecoming is like, THE biggest event of the year at Beverly Hills High." Her grey-blue eyes sparkled with excitement and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "There's the big game of course, where we get to watch the boys kick some *serious* butt on the field."
She paused, pursing her glossy lips as she thought. "But the best part is definitely the dance afterwards. Everyone gets soo dressed up and we get to party all night long!" Lottie clasped her hands together, practically bouncing in her seat from the excitement of it all. It was likely thanks to the two caramel macchiatos she'd had since waking up. "Oh, and they always go all out decorating the gym too. Last year's theme was like, 'A Night in Paris' or something. They had this gorgeous Eiffel Tower set up and everything."
It wasn’t always the responsibility of Naomi Davis to drive herself and her most loyal subjects - dubbed the Hive Five, a name Naomi didn’t outright dislike but would be hard-pressed to say she loved - in fact, they often took turns so the ones with a car didn’t always have to act as chauffeur. Except, of course, when Lottie’s turn came up. Whenever Lottie was scheduled to be the driver, they always managed to convince her that, no, actually she didn’t have to be the one behind the wheel. A little white lie between friends never hurt when the alternative was having to endure a road trip where Lottie winds up on I-10 heading east and having to quickly turn back around before they wound up in Los Angeles for a day. The only constant with the carpool situation was that if Naomi wasn’t driving, then she was in the passenger seat. This was the rule, as consistent as gravity.
Even when Naomi wasn’t the one driving, she always had control of the music in the car and while she…entertained requests, it was never any surprise what was frequently playing from the speakers. Today was no different, though Naomi was kind enough to turn the current song to a reasonable volume so conversations could be heard, but from the way she was slowly grooving her head back, forth, side to side, it was clear that she was hardly interested in engaging in conversation while the song was playing.
Homecoming Week was vital for the Hive Five; it was important for Naomi that the five of them set a strong example when it came to school spirit for the week. That, of course, meant following the theme of each day to the letter. If that meant having to look like Annie fucking Oakley for a day, then that’s what they did. Yesterday had been Hippie Day and Naomi managed to make an outfit that looked as if Sharon Tate (or Margot Robbie’s take on her) had a fashion child with Foxxy Cleopatra, afro and all. Today was a bit more subdued in theme, school colors, and Naomi looked as if she was going to a Riot Grrl concert after school. Black leather jacket under which was a black halter neck crop top to offer the rubes just the barest hint of her navel, a plaid black and red miniskirt like she was a Catholic school girl gone bad, and sheer leggings because Naomi knew that her legs were money makers and deserved as much focus as possible. Her father had said the jacket made her look like, quote, “someone who listens to Melissa Etheridge” and when Naomi didn’t know who that was, the clarification was a four-letter word and Naomi got the message loud and clear.
She put it on when she got to the car, out of sight of her father.
The song came to an end as Naomi continued along the suburban route towards the fifth member of the Hive’s home. She checked the rearview mirror, ostensibly because it was safe driving to regularly check, but also to subtly click her mouth at Indy’s denim shorts. Sure, the upper half was fine and she didn’t forbid Indy from getting in the car, but such a faux pas during Homecoming Week was going to be remembered, by Naomi if no one else. "You’re probably wondering what makes Homecoming more important than prom.” Naomi, of course, had no way of knowing what Indy was thinking - probably something about kangaroos or koalas - but what mattered is she had asked a question and was getting a proper education on Beverly Hills High School. "Prom is a big event, sure, but it’s only for juniors, seniors, and the odd underclassmen the weird students invite. But Homecoming is for the entire school and even alumni. The football game, the dance, the afterparty, it’s all very…vital to the social heartbeat that is our school. If you don’t go to the Homecoming Dance, you’re nobody. Even if you show up dateless, show up.” That wasn’t a suggestion. Not that anyone in the Hive ever had problems getting dates. Getting them to last was another question entirely.
"Which reminds me, Indy,” Though Naomi was speaking directly to Indy, her eyes were on the road as she inched the car ever closer to its destination, "I hope you’ll show up to the dance with a little more…enthusiasm in your wardrobe. Mermaid’s Closet is having a Homecoming sale for a reason. Just in case you were unaware.” As the car rolled to a stop, so too did the next song on Naomi’s playlist start to play as they waited for Angel.
“Shit…” That was going to be a whole other trip and a whole other dent in the bank account. Indy was never going to join the ranks of the car-owning Hive members if she kept handing over all her cash to the Closet. There was no way she was going to be able to wear last year’s prom outfit. Naomi would spot it in a second. There would be time, she supposed, in between the final bell and the game. Even if she didn’t have to be at the game itself, wondering why they kept stopping play all the time. Aussie Rules Football just had so much more action than American football, and they were more supportive of the women’s leagues too. The athlete in her appreciated that. Still, what was she going to find that was on theme for the dance? Shauna knew what the theme was, she had to. She was an alumnus. She’d have something set aside. It was going to be a pain in the ass keeping everything in her locker though.
“Of course, Naomi! I’ll be stunning!” Indy lied. “I mean, it’s one of the biggest dances of the year, like you said. I won’t let the Hive down. I just wanted to keep my options open in case someone proved themselves worthy of being my date! But, no one has, so c’est la vie.”
Turning her attention back to Indy in the backseat, Lottie playfully nudged her friend's shoulder. "Psh, don't worry about finding a date, Inds!" she reassured with a dismissive wave of her perfectly manicured hand. Her nails were painted a deep crimson red to match the school colors. "It's like, way more fun to go stag anyway. Then you can flirt with all the cute guys without being tied down!"
With her words of wisdom imparted on the floundering Floridian (ha, get it?!), Lottie resumed trying to figure out what the hell she was listening to. It was some kind of... jazz? The guy was crooning too much. She didn't know. Just sounded not so vibey for her, Lottie’s choice of tracks being closer to 00’s pop, but she would rather talk to Mo dressed as a disaster than ever telling Naomi Davis that she did not like her music choices.
Meanwhile, in the suburban cookie-cutter house the sedan had parked in front of, finishing her oatmeal, Evangely Vázquez dully stared ahead at the shelf of assortment prayer candles. They say the light of a candle represents the Christ who is the Light of the World. Prayers were requests for help, guidance or peace from God. It gave those who had faith belief that someone was listening but really, more often than not, prayers were never answered. They were achieved by your own work and efforts, and the righteous gave credit to God, because it was all in His plan. They believed and so it must be true, that the job they got, that the house they bought, that the break up they healed from, was all because they surrendered to God. He told them because of Him, the right doors would open at the right time, at the right place, when they needed it the most. All in which was part of His divine plan.
Her mother would say it is a great tower of strength, and when we pray, we grasp a force that can move mountains and save souls. Her mother would pray to their heavenly Father for serenity so she can let go of the things she cannot change, and gain the courage, the conviction, and the constancy to change that which she could. Her mother would say her father, who should be filled with guilt and remorse for committing adultery and washing his sins away with a bottle of top-shelf scotch, has been spared from all of that. They have been spared from all that because they were chosen. They were saved. Hell on Earth is only part of the journey that leads to crucial moments that bring them closer to their Savior. To their Lord. To Jesus Christ. God the Almighty.
You know what Angel would say to all that? That this was all horseshit and that the bible was the biggest con-artist that ever existed. The Bible, and Catholicism in general, tries to guilt you over trivial things, like lying or having sex, and blames you for your failure and that without belief you’re a fool. Without a cloud of judgment, without the fear of her tyrannical mother and narcissistic father, without the fear of being looked at wrongly for disagreeing, it was painfully obvious to see how impressionable religion could be, convincing the masses that if they trusted the Lord they would overcome sin.
Sighing heavily to herself, Angel grabbed her bowl and went straight to wash it and put it up in the dish rack. It was then when she heard a familiar honk. Once she was done wiping her hands with a small towel, she grabbed her brown leather backpack, threw it over her shoulder and shuffled to the door. As she slipped on her black loafers, her mother, still in her bathrobe, came marching downstairs. She turned around knowing exactly what to expect.
Silently, her mother, Maritza, examined her child, crossing her arms and hovering over her. Angel was incredibly short to most people, including her mother, who loved to assert her authority. Stoutly, Mari inquired, “I don’t like those friends of yours… they either dress whorish or homeless but that’s neither here nor there. When will you go back to taking the bus?”
“Right now it’s quicker to get to school with them and you’ve met them all, they are good people,” Angel replied with a monotone cadence, adjusting her straps.
“They are fake people. My friends tell me they don’t go to church, which means they lie to my face,” Mari complained, gritting her teeth in annoyance. She wasn’t dumb and she could tell there was nothing pure about the group of teens waiting outside.
Angel didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t talk back and she didn’t correct. All she did was tell her mother a half-truth to ease her troubled soul. The Hive Five weren’t religious. In that aspect, her mother was right, but as far as her mother was concerned, Angel had spread her ministry and converted even the most sinful souls. That should be enough to shut her up, for now. “Whether that’s true or not, it’s my job to bring the Word to everyone right? I’m doing just that and like I said before, they’re good people and want to embrace… perfection.” She opened the door from behind and gave her mom a small smile, “Trust me, they’re worth saving. Now.” Angel stepped back onto the front porch. “It’s almost time for you to get ready for work, I’ll see you tonight.”
“Not too late. Come home straight after the game,” her mother commanded. In response, Angel nodded and turned away from the woman of the house. She took in the morning, leaving her problems behind, breathing in the breeze and soaking up the sun. While her smile fell, Angel wasn’t one to smile often, her brown eyes glistened and every morning, whenever she stepped out of her house, she felt the one thing she desired the most. Freedom. With a delicate and graceful hand, she waved at her friends. One thing she knew for certain was her outfit was nightmarish and she knew she was going to get grilled.
As Angel stepped out from beyond the door, Indy had a front-row view and laid the first eyes on the outfit the Faith Forward leader had chosen for today. It was, as expected, extremely conservative given the family but it couldn’t hide those eyes, the first thing the world traveler remembered seeing when she first met Miss Vazquez in her homeroom class. Contrasting her silver pools, those deep brown eyes looked like caverns one could get lost in, and Indy was willing to not be found. However, she quickly learned the extracurricular activities that Angel participated in and the prospect of expanding on what she had experienced with Kai on the Bondi Beach sands was indeed as dim as those eyes were right now.
The outfit did give Indy hope that her faux pas with the deep navy denim shorts would be spared, but a new problem emerged. When Levi got hold of the family’s Bentley, seating wasn’t usually an issue. But Naomi’s sedan meant someone had to sit in the middle of the back seat. Being the tallest at 5’7”, Indy wasn’t an option, and Lottie was in her own world at the moment, so Angel, the smallest member of the Hive Five, usually got the role. For some reason, today it seemed more daunting than usual to have the girl Indy may or may not have a crush on, and who may or may not be the main reason she accepted Naomi’s offer to join the Hive, right next to her. But Naomi would suspect something if Lottie was forced into the middle. Anything that could potentially make the Hive tardy, especially on Homecoming Day, would not be acceptable.
“Shit. Well if God isn’t going to help me out of this, Allah, Buddha, Vishnu, one of you better pick up the slack here.”
Without Naomi needing to say a word, Indy returned the wave, unbuckled and hopped out of the back seat, keeping the door open for the arriving Angel. She could spot the mother Vazquez watching from the doorstep and knew that she had to play up the good Christian girl angle at the moment. Luckily given her time in Florida she had some practice. “Good morning, Angel,” the blonde offered. “What a glorious day the Lord has given us. Blessed be the fruit.”
“Good morning, Indy,” Angel locked her gaze with her friend, briefly, as if she was peering into her soul. She rolled her eyes in response. It wasn’t like her mother could hear them, but sure, why not. She could play her part. “God is good,” she asserted. “God is great.” Behind her tone was dry sarcasm and whether her friends knew it or not, most of the things Angel said about God were not said with conviction but as a joke.
For a moment, Angel’s stare did travel downward to the blue denim shorts and Indy’s long, smooth and tanned legs. She did think of a compliment that could make her friend feel good. Not many people could pull off short shorts like Indy did and not many girls could make sporty look hot, but Indy obviously could. That was part of why Naomi adopted her. She had potential. Making someone into your likeness, just how people tried to live life in the likeness of God, all started with potential.
Indy was a lost soul who was given a chance to join the fold and be like Naomi. She was beautiful and had a body the Hive could work with. Most importantly though? She wasn’t too involved with the school, which meant they could groom her properly. Train her to be a proper bee and fly high toward the heavens, with the best of the best. Crème de la crème. This was Indy’s chance to prove she wasn’t a coward and could kick it with the cool kids, dressed in class, never bothered and never harassed. As long as she did what she was told, she’d be able to escape the thunderdome. If it wasn’t for Levi, Angel wouldn’t be here but she wasn’t going to put a target on her back, so she’d play along. Pretending was the one skill she’s become the master at.
“That’s blue,” Angel curtly pointed out and slipped around her friend, nestling herself in the backseat between her and Lottie. “You don’t own any black bottoms?”
“Fuck, even Angel’s going to give me hell for the shorts? She’s dressed like a 50s librarian!”
Indy wanted to say that colors were dumb, that people should just be able to wear what they were most comfortable in, but that was certain to get her sent packing from the Hive. Naomi was very clear that coordination was an important part of what they did for the school. The fact that Indy couldn’t find any black shorts this morning nearly made her blow a gasket, but her mom didn’t have any either and she weighed what was worse in her mind: showing up with the deep blue shorts, or showing up in Walmart shorts. She made her choice, and now even her crush was making her pay for it.
Instead, she blushed and demured as she sat back down behind Levi and buckled back in. “I think my black shorts got lost in the move over from Australia,” she offered as a weak excuse. “I thought for sure I had a pair, but I couldn’t find them, and I didn’t want to wear pants with the bomber jacket, so I thought since I wore the light blue denim for Wild West day, it would be OK if I did this today, and I’m wrong, and I’m the worst, and I’m sorry.”
Levi shot a knowing glance towards Naomi, before glancing back to his reflection in the passenger side mirror. “Don’t be sorry, be better. It’s kind of the entire point of the color coordination.” He moved a stray strand of hair into place, always preoccupied with perfection. “It’s whatever, you’ll just take the picture we post at the end of the day.”
"We’re all aware that Indy’s shorts are unacceptable.” Naomi could have let it continue and part of her wanted to. People that were made an example of always learned how to avoid such a thing in the future; Indy may have been in the Hive but before they were Five, they were two: Naomi and Levi. Just because you were in the Hive didn’t guarantee you’d be there come graduation. Hell, come next week. But Naomi was nothing if not understanding; Indy had a strike on her record. Everyone got one. They rarely got two, let alone three. "But she’s going to make up for it, isn’t she.” It was clear in Naomi’s tone, her calm but cold, calculated tone as sharp as a chef’s knife, that she wasn’t asking a question. "Levi is right. When it comes to the group photo, Indy will just be on the end, from the waist up.”
"Angel, your effort is appreciated. If you need some pins to make yourself look less like someone from the Church of Latter Day Saints, speak up.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Angel voiced. “Don’t know if Indy is going to fit a small but… I have another skirt in my bag.” She paused and shrugged to herself, coming to a decision rather quickly, “I guess we won’t know until she tries it on.” And with that, Angel took her black plaid skirt out of her bag, placed her bag on the oblivious Lottie’s lap and started undressing her skirt, revealing her cheeky, silk white underwear. Unceremoniously, she tossed her skirt at Indy. “Try that on.”
Indy was stunned for a moment. Sharing clothes with Angel? It seemed like something she would do in a dream world where her crush didn't get her fashion tips from Mormon missionary catalogs. Granted her top was better suited to make the skirt work than the drab blouse her Hivemate had, but there wasn’t much time to think about that as Miss Vazquez quickly revealed where the virginal white was hiding in today’s outfit. “Uhhhh, right, yes…”
She unbuckled the shorts and slid them down, the sea green bikini cut now on display for the clique. It took every ounce of restraint she had built up in California to avoid getting more than a peek at Angel’s bare legs, like avoiding staring at an eclipse. She was liable to burn more than her retinas if she kept it up. Unzipping the skirt and sliding it over the flats and up her legs, the small size definitely wasn’t making it easy, but it ended up sitting just below where her shorts were on her thighs. “It’s going to be more like a mini skirt on me, but it will work. I have some Spanx in my locker I can wear underneath, so… are we good? Do I get to be in the picture again?”
Lottie watched with rapt attention as Angel revealed her white silk underwear, trying not to stare too obviously. She couldn't help feeling a twinge of envy at the other girl's lithe figure and the effortless way she carried herself, but that was a can of worms Lottie would not dare open in the vipers’ nest.
As Indy slid the black skirt up her long, tanned legs, Lottie let out an appreciative hum. "Mmm, looking good, Inds!" she purred, giving her friend an exaggerated wink. Her grey-blue eyes lingered a moment too long on the exposed skin above Indy's knees before snapping back up to meet her gaze. "That skirt is so cute on you, babe. It's giving, like, sexy school girl. No spanx. Embrace your inner slutty Britney!"
Lottie pulled out her phone once Indy and Angel were both appropriately dressed again, switching to Instagram to record a short story heralding the arrival of the Hive. "It’s Hive-o-clock bitches!! Let’s blow a kiss and serve some lewks~!" Lottie panned the camera around the car, recording regardless if her Honeys planned on indulging her or not. Not a problem—they were hot, they were (now) coordinating. They were ready to blow some Bevvy Hills minds.
And yet here Indy Adams was, forgoing her usual preferred colors of blue, green, and white, and donning the red and black that was asked of all the BHHS students ahead of their homecoming game and dance.
Naomi Davis was insistent that Indy had to comply with the color scheme, even if her options were limited. The dyed blonde managed to find a couple of things that worked together. A red tank top and light black bomber jacket gave her both school spirit options on the top half of her body. However, they had to cover the blushes of the denim shorts below, her tanned legs sculpted by the last year of running on the beach, surfing the waves and jumping for spikes also showing a little bit of red on the exposed skin. Indy didn’t have any black pairs of shorts, something that certainly would draw another trip to the Mermaid’s Closet on the Queen's orders to rectify that fact. The black onyx necklace swayed slightly with the turns, breaking up the solid crimson on her torso. It wasn’t one of her best outfits, but it was good enough to get her into Naomi’s car that morning and make sure that she didn’t have to take an Uber to school.
Indy was behind the passenger seat, the front seat in the clique’s ride already occupied as it usually was by the Hive’s second-in-command Levi Green-Locke. Lottie Quinn was in the back with her, offering a potential buffer to the last member of the crew to be given a lift this morning. Indy was still a bit unfamiliar with some of the sights along the route taken to school. In the ten months since she arrived back in California from Australia, she had plenty of time to memorize the vegan donut shops and hypodermic spas along the way, and yet they kept changing names and types as fast as she could get them down in her head. Nothing was permanent here. Even the Hive, as ironclad as it seemed, had an expiration date. Somehow she was along for the ride, literally in this case, but she knew something was going to break it apart.
That was a thought for another day. Indy shook her head a little bit. Her grey eyes scanned around the neighborhood, trying not to focus on those terminal feelings. Clearly, she needed some more time on the beach than she had been getting.
“So, since this is my first actual homecoming event, what is it all about?” Indy asked, trying to get some clarity on what exactly her role was going to be. “Is it all just an excuse to get people riled up in the autumn? Or is there some sort of deeper significance that I’m not aware of yet?”
Levi turned to face Indy, smiling like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. His outfit was on theme as well (duh du jour); dark red shirt, top two buttons undone, and black, tailored pants, cuffed at the ankle. “You’re cute. The deeper significance is remembering the Pirates who came before us. That, and getting everybody riled up in the middle of autumn.” He turned back to face the winding roads of Angel’s suburbs. “Everybody else gets to watch Naomi and I win homecoming court, and then we all get to watch the serfs get sloppy drunk. I wish I could take credit for it, honestly. Pure American genius, that one.”
Indy dropped a chuckle at Levi’s summation but there was a hint of nervousness behind it. Between Naomi’s desire for a spotless crew and the currently absent Angel’s pious nature, the alcohol culture she had embraced during her time Down Under had no chance to flourish on the Puritan American shores. It had been nine months since she had really cut loose and joined the masses in drunken reveling, but the pleasure of the punch had to be sacrificed to maintain her current position. This was the last chance for her to have anything resembling a high-school social life. Even if she was surprised Naomi had summoned her to be part of one of the most popular cliques in the school, she didn’t want to throw it away to be left hanging with the stoners and washouts in the parking lot. She nodded at Levi’s assessment. “Yup, that tracks with what I know.”
Lottie shifted in the backseat, smoothing down the red and black plaid skirt that she had chosen for the day. Despite Naomi's insistence on following the school colors, she had managed to bend the school rules ever so slightly by pairing the skirt with a tight, semi-sheer black turtleneck that clung to her figure. Over it was a cropped red blazer that narrowly avoided getting her dress-coded for said semi-sheer turtleneck. Her black knee-high boots with a stiletto heel completed the look, giving her a few extra inches of height.
Tossing her brown curls over one shoulder, she let out a soft giggle at Levi's response to Indy. "Hehe, he's not wrong! Homecoming is like, THE biggest event of the year at Beverly Hills High." Her grey-blue eyes sparkled with excitement and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "There's the big game of course, where we get to watch the boys kick some *serious* butt on the field."
She paused, pursing her glossy lips as she thought. "But the best part is definitely the dance afterwards. Everyone gets soo dressed up and we get to party all night long!" Lottie clasped her hands together, practically bouncing in her seat from the excitement of it all. It was likely thanks to the two caramel macchiatos she'd had since waking up. "Oh, and they always go all out decorating the gym too. Last year's theme was like, 'A Night in Paris' or something. They had this gorgeous Eiffel Tower set up and everything."
It wasn’t always the responsibility of Naomi Davis to drive herself and her most loyal subjects - dubbed the Hive Five, a name Naomi didn’t outright dislike but would be hard-pressed to say she loved - in fact, they often took turns so the ones with a car didn’t always have to act as chauffeur. Except, of course, when Lottie’s turn came up. Whenever Lottie was scheduled to be the driver, they always managed to convince her that, no, actually she didn’t have to be the one behind the wheel. A little white lie between friends never hurt when the alternative was having to endure a road trip where Lottie winds up on I-10 heading east and having to quickly turn back around before they wound up in Los Angeles for a day. The only constant with the carpool situation was that if Naomi wasn’t driving, then she was in the passenger seat. This was the rule, as consistent as gravity.
Even when Naomi wasn’t the one driving, she always had control of the music in the car and while she…entertained requests, it was never any surprise what was frequently playing from the speakers. Today was no different, though Naomi was kind enough to turn the current song to a reasonable volume so conversations could be heard, but from the way she was slowly grooving her head back, forth, side to side, it was clear that she was hardly interested in engaging in conversation while the song was playing.
Homecoming Week was vital for the Hive Five; it was important for Naomi that the five of them set a strong example when it came to school spirit for the week. That, of course, meant following the theme of each day to the letter. If that meant having to look like Annie fucking Oakley for a day, then that’s what they did. Yesterday had been Hippie Day and Naomi managed to make an outfit that looked as if Sharon Tate (or Margot Robbie’s take on her) had a fashion child with Foxxy Cleopatra, afro and all. Today was a bit more subdued in theme, school colors, and Naomi looked as if she was going to a Riot Grrl concert after school. Black leather jacket under which was a black halter neck crop top to offer the rubes just the barest hint of her navel, a plaid black and red miniskirt like she was a Catholic school girl gone bad, and sheer leggings because Naomi knew that her legs were money makers and deserved as much focus as possible. Her father had said the jacket made her look like, quote, “someone who listens to Melissa Etheridge” and when Naomi didn’t know who that was, the clarification was a four-letter word and Naomi got the message loud and clear.
She put it on when she got to the car, out of sight of her father.
The song came to an end as Naomi continued along the suburban route towards the fifth member of the Hive’s home. She checked the rearview mirror, ostensibly because it was safe driving to regularly check, but also to subtly click her mouth at Indy’s denim shorts. Sure, the upper half was fine and she didn’t forbid Indy from getting in the car, but such a faux pas during Homecoming Week was going to be remembered, by Naomi if no one else. "You’re probably wondering what makes Homecoming more important than prom.” Naomi, of course, had no way of knowing what Indy was thinking - probably something about kangaroos or koalas - but what mattered is she had asked a question and was getting a proper education on Beverly Hills High School. "Prom is a big event, sure, but it’s only for juniors, seniors, and the odd underclassmen the weird students invite. But Homecoming is for the entire school and even alumni. The football game, the dance, the afterparty, it’s all very…vital to the social heartbeat that is our school. If you don’t go to the Homecoming Dance, you’re nobody. Even if you show up dateless, show up.” That wasn’t a suggestion. Not that anyone in the Hive ever had problems getting dates. Getting them to last was another question entirely.
"Which reminds me, Indy,” Though Naomi was speaking directly to Indy, her eyes were on the road as she inched the car ever closer to its destination, "I hope you’ll show up to the dance with a little more…enthusiasm in your wardrobe. Mermaid’s Closet is having a Homecoming sale for a reason. Just in case you were unaware.” As the car rolled to a stop, so too did the next song on Naomi’s playlist start to play as they waited for Angel.
“Shit…” That was going to be a whole other trip and a whole other dent in the bank account. Indy was never going to join the ranks of the car-owning Hive members if she kept handing over all her cash to the Closet. There was no way she was going to be able to wear last year’s prom outfit. Naomi would spot it in a second. There would be time, she supposed, in between the final bell and the game. Even if she didn’t have to be at the game itself, wondering why they kept stopping play all the time. Aussie Rules Football just had so much more action than American football, and they were more supportive of the women’s leagues too. The athlete in her appreciated that. Still, what was she going to find that was on theme for the dance? Shauna knew what the theme was, she had to. She was an alumnus. She’d have something set aside. It was going to be a pain in the ass keeping everything in her locker though.
“Of course, Naomi! I’ll be stunning!” Indy lied. “I mean, it’s one of the biggest dances of the year, like you said. I won’t let the Hive down. I just wanted to keep my options open in case someone proved themselves worthy of being my date! But, no one has, so c’est la vie.”
Turning her attention back to Indy in the backseat, Lottie playfully nudged her friend's shoulder. "Psh, don't worry about finding a date, Inds!" she reassured with a dismissive wave of her perfectly manicured hand. Her nails were painted a deep crimson red to match the school colors. "It's like, way more fun to go stag anyway. Then you can flirt with all the cute guys without being tied down!"
With her words of wisdom imparted on the floundering Floridian (ha, get it?!), Lottie resumed trying to figure out what the hell she was listening to. It was some kind of... jazz? The guy was crooning too much. She didn't know. Just sounded not so vibey for her, Lottie’s choice of tracks being closer to 00’s pop, but she would rather talk to Mo dressed as a disaster than ever telling Naomi Davis that she did not like her music choices.
Meanwhile, in the suburban cookie-cutter house the sedan had parked in front of, finishing her oatmeal, Evangely Vázquez dully stared ahead at the shelf of assortment prayer candles. They say the light of a candle represents the Christ who is the Light of the World. Prayers were requests for help, guidance or peace from God. It gave those who had faith belief that someone was listening but really, more often than not, prayers were never answered. They were achieved by your own work and efforts, and the righteous gave credit to God, because it was all in His plan. They believed and so it must be true, that the job they got, that the house they bought, that the break up they healed from, was all because they surrendered to God. He told them because of Him, the right doors would open at the right time, at the right place, when they needed it the most. All in which was part of His divine plan.
Her mother would say it is a great tower of strength, and when we pray, we grasp a force that can move mountains and save souls. Her mother would pray to their heavenly Father for serenity so she can let go of the things she cannot change, and gain the courage, the conviction, and the constancy to change that which she could. Her mother would say her father, who should be filled with guilt and remorse for committing adultery and washing his sins away with a bottle of top-shelf scotch, has been spared from all of that. They have been spared from all that because they were chosen. They were saved. Hell on Earth is only part of the journey that leads to crucial moments that bring them closer to their Savior. To their Lord. To Jesus Christ. God the Almighty.
You know what Angel would say to all that? That this was all horseshit and that the bible was the biggest con-artist that ever existed. The Bible, and Catholicism in general, tries to guilt you over trivial things, like lying or having sex, and blames you for your failure and that without belief you’re a fool. Without a cloud of judgment, without the fear of her tyrannical mother and narcissistic father, without the fear of being looked at wrongly for disagreeing, it was painfully obvious to see how impressionable religion could be, convincing the masses that if they trusted the Lord they would overcome sin.
Sighing heavily to herself, Angel grabbed her bowl and went straight to wash it and put it up in the dish rack. It was then when she heard a familiar honk. Once she was done wiping her hands with a small towel, she grabbed her brown leather backpack, threw it over her shoulder and shuffled to the door. As she slipped on her black loafers, her mother, still in her bathrobe, came marching downstairs. She turned around knowing exactly what to expect.
Silently, her mother, Maritza, examined her child, crossing her arms and hovering over her. Angel was incredibly short to most people, including her mother, who loved to assert her authority. Stoutly, Mari inquired, “I don’t like those friends of yours… they either dress whorish or homeless but that’s neither here nor there. When will you go back to taking the bus?”
“Right now it’s quicker to get to school with them and you’ve met them all, they are good people,” Angel replied with a monotone cadence, adjusting her straps.
“They are fake people. My friends tell me they don’t go to church, which means they lie to my face,” Mari complained, gritting her teeth in annoyance. She wasn’t dumb and she could tell there was nothing pure about the group of teens waiting outside.
Angel didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t talk back and she didn’t correct. All she did was tell her mother a half-truth to ease her troubled soul. The Hive Five weren’t religious. In that aspect, her mother was right, but as far as her mother was concerned, Angel had spread her ministry and converted even the most sinful souls. That should be enough to shut her up, for now. “Whether that’s true or not, it’s my job to bring the Word to everyone right? I’m doing just that and like I said before, they’re good people and want to embrace… perfection.” She opened the door from behind and gave her mom a small smile, “Trust me, they’re worth saving. Now.” Angel stepped back onto the front porch. “It’s almost time for you to get ready for work, I’ll see you tonight.”
“Not too late. Come home straight after the game,” her mother commanded. In response, Angel nodded and turned away from the woman of the house. She took in the morning, leaving her problems behind, breathing in the breeze and soaking up the sun. While her smile fell, Angel wasn’t one to smile often, her brown eyes glistened and every morning, whenever she stepped out of her house, she felt the one thing she desired the most. Freedom. With a delicate and graceful hand, she waved at her friends. One thing she knew for certain was her outfit was nightmarish and she knew she was going to get grilled.
As Angel stepped out from beyond the door, Indy had a front-row view and laid the first eyes on the outfit the Faith Forward leader had chosen for today. It was, as expected, extremely conservative given the family but it couldn’t hide those eyes, the first thing the world traveler remembered seeing when she first met Miss Vazquez in her homeroom class. Contrasting her silver pools, those deep brown eyes looked like caverns one could get lost in, and Indy was willing to not be found. However, she quickly learned the extracurricular activities that Angel participated in and the prospect of expanding on what she had experienced with Kai on the Bondi Beach sands was indeed as dim as those eyes were right now.
The outfit did give Indy hope that her faux pas with the deep navy denim shorts would be spared, but a new problem emerged. When Levi got hold of the family’s Bentley, seating wasn’t usually an issue. But Naomi’s sedan meant someone had to sit in the middle of the back seat. Being the tallest at 5’7”, Indy wasn’t an option, and Lottie was in her own world at the moment, so Angel, the smallest member of the Hive Five, usually got the role. For some reason, today it seemed more daunting than usual to have the girl Indy may or may not have a crush on, and who may or may not be the main reason she accepted Naomi’s offer to join the Hive, right next to her. But Naomi would suspect something if Lottie was forced into the middle. Anything that could potentially make the Hive tardy, especially on Homecoming Day, would not be acceptable.
“Shit. Well if God isn’t going to help me out of this, Allah, Buddha, Vishnu, one of you better pick up the slack here.”
Without Naomi needing to say a word, Indy returned the wave, unbuckled and hopped out of the back seat, keeping the door open for the arriving Angel. She could spot the mother Vazquez watching from the doorstep and knew that she had to play up the good Christian girl angle at the moment. Luckily given her time in Florida she had some practice. “Good morning, Angel,” the blonde offered. “What a glorious day the Lord has given us. Blessed be the fruit.”
“Good morning, Indy,” Angel locked her gaze with her friend, briefly, as if she was peering into her soul. She rolled her eyes in response. It wasn’t like her mother could hear them, but sure, why not. She could play her part. “God is good,” she asserted. “God is great.” Behind her tone was dry sarcasm and whether her friends knew it or not, most of the things Angel said about God were not said with conviction but as a joke.
For a moment, Angel’s stare did travel downward to the blue denim shorts and Indy’s long, smooth and tanned legs. She did think of a compliment that could make her friend feel good. Not many people could pull off short shorts like Indy did and not many girls could make sporty look hot, but Indy obviously could. That was part of why Naomi adopted her. She had potential. Making someone into your likeness, just how people tried to live life in the likeness of God, all started with potential.
Indy was a lost soul who was given a chance to join the fold and be like Naomi. She was beautiful and had a body the Hive could work with. Most importantly though? She wasn’t too involved with the school, which meant they could groom her properly. Train her to be a proper bee and fly high toward the heavens, with the best of the best. Crème de la crème. This was Indy’s chance to prove she wasn’t a coward and could kick it with the cool kids, dressed in class, never bothered and never harassed. As long as she did what she was told, she’d be able to escape the thunderdome. If it wasn’t for Levi, Angel wouldn’t be here but she wasn’t going to put a target on her back, so she’d play along. Pretending was the one skill she’s become the master at.
“That’s blue,” Angel curtly pointed out and slipped around her friend, nestling herself in the backseat between her and Lottie. “You don’t own any black bottoms?”
“Fuck, even Angel’s going to give me hell for the shorts? She’s dressed like a 50s librarian!”
Indy wanted to say that colors were dumb, that people should just be able to wear what they were most comfortable in, but that was certain to get her sent packing from the Hive. Naomi was very clear that coordination was an important part of what they did for the school. The fact that Indy couldn’t find any black shorts this morning nearly made her blow a gasket, but her mom didn’t have any either and she weighed what was worse in her mind: showing up with the deep blue shorts, or showing up in Walmart shorts. She made her choice, and now even her crush was making her pay for it.
Instead, she blushed and demured as she sat back down behind Levi and buckled back in. “I think my black shorts got lost in the move over from Australia,” she offered as a weak excuse. “I thought for sure I had a pair, but I couldn’t find them, and I didn’t want to wear pants with the bomber jacket, so I thought since I wore the light blue denim for Wild West day, it would be OK if I did this today, and I’m wrong, and I’m the worst, and I’m sorry.”
Levi shot a knowing glance towards Naomi, before glancing back to his reflection in the passenger side mirror. “Don’t be sorry, be better. It’s kind of the entire point of the color coordination.” He moved a stray strand of hair into place, always preoccupied with perfection. “It’s whatever, you’ll just take the picture we post at the end of the day.”
"We’re all aware that Indy’s shorts are unacceptable.” Naomi could have let it continue and part of her wanted to. People that were made an example of always learned how to avoid such a thing in the future; Indy may have been in the Hive but before they were Five, they were two: Naomi and Levi. Just because you were in the Hive didn’t guarantee you’d be there come graduation. Hell, come next week. But Naomi was nothing if not understanding; Indy had a strike on her record. Everyone got one. They rarely got two, let alone three. "But she’s going to make up for it, isn’t she.” It was clear in Naomi’s tone, her calm but cold, calculated tone as sharp as a chef’s knife, that she wasn’t asking a question. "Levi is right. When it comes to the group photo, Indy will just be on the end, from the waist up.”
"Angel, your effort is appreciated. If you need some pins to make yourself look less like someone from the Church of Latter Day Saints, speak up.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Angel voiced. “Don’t know if Indy is going to fit a small but… I have another skirt in my bag.” She paused and shrugged to herself, coming to a decision rather quickly, “I guess we won’t know until she tries it on.” And with that, Angel took her black plaid skirt out of her bag, placed her bag on the oblivious Lottie’s lap and started undressing her skirt, revealing her cheeky, silk white underwear. Unceremoniously, she tossed her skirt at Indy. “Try that on.”
Indy was stunned for a moment. Sharing clothes with Angel? It seemed like something she would do in a dream world where her crush didn't get her fashion tips from Mormon missionary catalogs. Granted her top was better suited to make the skirt work than the drab blouse her Hivemate had, but there wasn’t much time to think about that as Miss Vazquez quickly revealed where the virginal white was hiding in today’s outfit. “Uhhhh, right, yes…”
She unbuckled the shorts and slid them down, the sea green bikini cut now on display for the clique. It took every ounce of restraint she had built up in California to avoid getting more than a peek at Angel’s bare legs, like avoiding staring at an eclipse. She was liable to burn more than her retinas if she kept it up. Unzipping the skirt and sliding it over the flats and up her legs, the small size definitely wasn’t making it easy, but it ended up sitting just below where her shorts were on her thighs. “It’s going to be more like a mini skirt on me, but it will work. I have some Spanx in my locker I can wear underneath, so… are we good? Do I get to be in the picture again?”
Lottie watched with rapt attention as Angel revealed her white silk underwear, trying not to stare too obviously. She couldn't help feeling a twinge of envy at the other girl's lithe figure and the effortless way she carried herself, but that was a can of worms Lottie would not dare open in the vipers’ nest.
As Indy slid the black skirt up her long, tanned legs, Lottie let out an appreciative hum. "Mmm, looking good, Inds!" she purred, giving her friend an exaggerated wink. Her grey-blue eyes lingered a moment too long on the exposed skin above Indy's knees before snapping back up to meet her gaze. "That skirt is so cute on you, babe. It's giving, like, sexy school girl. No spanx. Embrace your inner slutty Britney!"
Lottie pulled out her phone once Indy and Angel were both appropriately dressed again, switching to Instagram to record a short story heralding the arrival of the Hive. "It’s Hive-o-clock bitches!! Let’s blow a kiss and serve some lewks~!" Lottie panned the camera around the car, recording regardless if her Honeys planned on indulging her or not. Not a problem—they were hot, they were (now) coordinating. They were ready to blow some Bevvy Hills minds.
