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chapter seven: tell me, which side are you on, dear?

a/n:

adam and rory > everyone else

tw(s) —— awkward and embarrassing situations, the varsity boys are mean, more angst, and smoking

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Broken sobs became hiccups as Rory abandoned the rest of the school day in favor of hiding in the bathroom.

She's exhausted. Her back aches from sitting here this long, hunched over her stomach and digging the heels of her palms into her swollen eyes, and her throat burns, her mouth still tasting of puke. She considers getting up to wash her mouth out. Take a shower. Anything. But she doesn't. She doesn't move a muscle. She's not sure she can. She just sits there, in pain and covered in dried tears, pathetic, gross, and downright angry.

Angry at Charlie? At the school? At herself for being such a miserable, infantile loser who can't stand up against her father?

She's not sure about that, either.

A gentle, rhythmic knock disturbs her from her thoughts. Rory lifts her head slowly, like an old dog does, and ignores the way a throbbing pain surfaces within her skull.

"Who——" Her voice breaks so she clears her throat, grimacing at the feeling. "Who is it?"

"Hey, it's me." Adam says, his voice as soft as the rap of his knuckles. "Your roommate let me use her key."

She doesn't respond. She just sniffs and wipes her face before wringing her fingers in front of her.

"Averman had to go to work. He said to tell you that he's going to try and call you later after he's figured everything out."

"What's there to figure out?" Rory's voice breaks again, betraying her. "Everybody hates us. That's not going to change."

When she's met with silence, she winces. An apology shrivels and dies on the tip of her tongue, though, so she opts to say something else.

"You can come in, y'know... I'm not, like, peeing or anything."

The door opens slowly with a creak. Rory looks up from the pills of fabric on her sweater to make eye contact with Adam, whose half-smile falters slightly at the sight of her face.

"Have you been here all day?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

He takes her hand when she extends it out to him and helps her to her feet. Her body starts to hurt in a brand-new way from the sudden exertion, but she ignores it, too. She just walks to the sink and turns on the cold tap.

"Are you okay?" Adam asks as she splashes her face.

"I'm fine." Rory dismisses his worry with a shrug of her shoulders, staring at her wet and reddened face in the mirror. "What time is it?"

He glances down at his watch. "Three... we've got, like, thirty minutes until practice..."

Just saying that makes him look ill. She doesn't blame him. The threat of new tears burns behind her eyes, and she exhales deeply to force it down.

"I don't want to go to practice." She admits quietly.

"Me neither."

"I don't even like this sport."

Adam doesn't respond to that, either. He just reaches out to rub her back affectionately.

"We're going to get through this." Rory decides, then, as she wipes her face dry. "We have to."

And Adam, who doesn't have an assertive bone in his body, nods in agreement.

The rest of the varsity team is already on the ice by the time Adam and Rory get down to the rink. They get all their gear on in silence, pulling on the second, redder version of their brand-new Warrior jerseys; her not quite sure what to say to a boy who's been yanked around by Minnesota's junior hockey league for most of his career, and him not sure what to say to a girl who's now stranded in a sea of men.

When they leave the locker room, practice has started without them.

Actual practice.

They zoom around on the field under the watchful eye of their award-winning coach, holding no stops as they play an endless game against one another, throwing each other around like they aren't all on the same team. There are no lassos. No laughter. No fun. Just goal after goal, and regulated violence, orders from the coach and captain. Adam's eyes widen and his mouth opens, only slightly, at the sight. Rory, however, just stands there and waits to be acknowledged.

She hates it, but this is more home to her than anything the Ducks did.

"I'm going to die here..."

"No." Rory says, shaking her head as she turns to face him. "This is just what a real practice looks like... Don't you remember? From the Hawks?"

Adam doesn't tear his gaze off what's in front of them.

"No. That wasn't like this."

"Oh." She frowns as one of the boys hits another on the chest and points to them. "Well, then. Welcome to legitimate high school hockey. I'm afraid you're not in Kansas anymore."

Before he can ask her to elaborate, Coach Wilson, an older man of shorter stature who has greying hair, skates up to them.

"Banks! Myrtle! I'm glad you two made it."

Adam nods stiffly but Rory puts on her winningest smile.

"Good afternoon, coach. We're happy to be here."

"Good." He smiles back and then makes a gesture that makes the whole team pause their game. "Come meet the rest of your team, kids. We're happy to have you here."

Wilson steps onto the ice. Rory shoots Adam a glance that tells him to follow her lead before she follows the man.

She chews on the soft plastic of her mouth guard as the boys close in around them. They're so much larger than her. She knew most of them were bulky and tall, but something was alarming about being confronted with it in this way. Most of them are standing not only a few inches taller than Rory but Adam, too. Even with the two of them wearing skates, they're significantly dwarfed by the rest of them.

So, as she's forced to look up at them to try and gauge reactions to her arrival, Rory has to resist the urge to shrink herself down even more.

"Boys! These are your new teammates: Adam Banks, number ninety-nine, and Lorelei Myrtle-Carrington, number forty."

Adam waves awkwardly but lowers a hand when she elbows him in the side.

Their teammates don't say anything. They stare, mostly at her, and the unwavering attention makes Rory twitch.

She just can't tell if it's curiosity, hostility, lewd interest, or some kind of nightmare mixture of all of them, and she's definitely not sure which she would prefer.

"C'mon, guys," Rick's disembodied voice comes with the arm that brushes across her upper back before resting on her shoulders, "give them a big warrior welcome."

Adam glances at her, panicked, across Rick's body as his order is met with scattered applause and cheering. She swallows thickly.

Rick quickly introduces all of the boys to the two of them. There are a few she recognizes from the assembly and a few more from the lunch room, but she can't recognize most of them. She tries to commit names to faces and then faces to memory as he goes along, but it's difficult because they're all looking at her.

Cole ends up being the most prominent. He is glaring daggers into her.

"Alright, alright, enough of this dilly-dallying," Wilson says once Rick has finished introducing them. "I want to get a taste of how these kids play. Pick amongst yourselves."

Rory's head whips to him, her eyebrows pinched to the center of her head, but all she sees is his retreating form. She glances back to the boys, then up at Rick, who is already smiling down at her wolfishly through the plastic of his visor.

"You'll be on my team." He decides just as she goes to open her mouth. "Don't worry, we always win."

"Does anybody ever tell you that you're an asshole?"

There are a few snickers in the crowd.

"No." Rick smiles, still. "Just you... every day for the past few days... in fewer words."

"That's a lie. I call you an asshole all the time. It helps curb your ego."

Rory's gaze flits up to the goalie, who is smiling proudly at his own joke.

"Thank you, Scott..."

"You're welcome."

"What about Adam?" She interrupts, crossing her arms over her chest. "Which team is he on?"

Adam stares at her like she's just sold him out to the Devil himself as one of the other boys reaches out to pat him on the back a little harder than he intended. His name is Bobby, according to Rick. Bobby Brown. He's got tight, curly hair that's so red it's almost blonde and small but gentle eyes, and he's tall enough that he can comfortably put an arm around Adam's shoulders without having to reach up or down.

Adam freezes under his touch, though, like a deer in headlights.

"We've got him." Bobby says with a half smile, and he sounds almost genuine enough for her to believe him. "Don't you worry your pretty little head."

"See. Adam will be fine. Now, c'mon. Let's start the scrimmage."

Rick doesn't give Rory the chance to speak after that. He drags her down to their end of the rink and away from Adam.

And then they start.

They work for what feels like hours.

Adam fairs well, but Rory's luck runs dry halfway through their practice, when Cole's problem with her took a physical turn. She was dealing with it at first—— brushing off every harsh shove and all the words thrown her way—— but, closer to the end of their practice time, he really snaps. She gets the puck, and she's about to score, but he comes out of left field to check her into the boards so hard that she's knocked right off her feet.

She falls onto the ice in a heap as the team reacts to what he's just done.

"What the hell, man?" That's Bobby, again. He's the only one big enough to shove Cole and have him actually stumble back—— another enforcer, she guesses as she pushes off the ice, her whole face throbbing from where her helmet got pressed into her cheek.

"If she's going to be one of us," Cole defends himself as they, once again, close in around her, "she has to deal with it."

"She's a girl, man! You're three times her size!"

Adam pulls Rory up to her feet as Rick wedges himself between the two biggest boys on their team.

"Are you okay?" Adam asks her, but he's busy looking, slightly starry-eyed, at the boy who'd come to her rescue.

"I'm fine."

Wilson arrives on the scene as she brushes ice shavings from her jersey.

"Stop it! Stop it!" He barks. With a wave of his hands, the boys separate. "Practice is over. Cole, you're doing laps tomorrow. You can't just attack your teammates like this, especially not before a game."

Cole fixes another glare on Rory, who grits her teeth, but he says nothing to disagree with their coach.

"Now, get lost. All of you. You stink and I'm tired of looking at your faces."

Slowly, they trickle off the ice and in the direction of the locker room.

And, in the locker room, they hit yet another roadblock.

Rory, one of the last ones to enter, finds herself stuck in the doorway, eyes wide as she's greeted with the sight of twenty-something boys getting undressed without a care in the world. Her status as the only girl once again hits her in the face as she realizes she got too comfortable with Connie and Julie's presence. There's no corner for the girls to get changed in, here. No one to hold up a towel for her, or share their deodorant, or have a pad or tampon when she needs one but doesn't have. There's just... boys. Boys who don't really like her that much. Boys who she has to change in front of and shower with.

The two boys closest to her notice her hesitance and her wide-eyed gaze, so she averts her gaze to the floor and forces her way to her locker.

As she takes off her jersey, she tells herself that this is normal. As she removes her gear, she reminds herself that she's done this before. (Even if she's never been the only girl on a team that didn't have showers that were separated by gender.) But then, as she goes to remove her shirt, a hand on her shoulder makes her pause.

"Hey, everybody, listen up!" It's Rick. She doesn't turn around to look at him, fearing that he's going to be more than half-naked behind her. "I think Myrtle should shower first."

Rory winces as people start to groan.

She knows that, in some weird way, he's trying to be respectful, but she really doesn't want to make herself hated more than she is right now, and he's setting her down that track.

"That's not necessary." She sighs quietly, turning around. They're chest to (bare) chest, now, and she forces herself to make eye contact.

"It is. I'm captain." He says it casually with a shrug. "I'm supposed to make sure that everyone on the team is comfortable. It's part of the job description."

Rick winks, then, and Rory reciprocates with a flat expression.

She isn't comfortable. She's anything but. Saying that feels like a death sentence in itself, though, so she takes a moment to think.

"This is where you call me an asshole again, isn't it?"

"Maybe... How do I know this isn't some big prank?"

Rick's eyebrows pinch together in the center of his forehead. "What?"

"How do I know that one of you isn't going to hide my clothes or something?"

He narrows his eyes and stares at her silently, for a moment, as if he's waiting for her to reveal that she's joking. When she remains completely serious, he sighs shortly.

"Do I really look like I'd stoop that low?"

Another deadpanned look.

He sucks his teeth. "Look, I'll hold your damn clothes if that makes you feel any better."

(That does not make her feel any better.)

"Like it or not, you're showering first." Rick gestures for her to speed up. "So, chop chop, yeah?"

With a huff, Rory swivels on her heel, grabs all of the stuff she'll need, and shoves past him and toward the showers. She washes as quickly as she can and then doesn't come out again until she's got a towel wrapped securely around her. Most of them push past her on her way out, still complaining about the fact that she got to go first, but she keeps her head down until she gets back to her locker.

Rick is still standing there. Just like he said he would, he's holding her clothes, still folded neatly.

"Thanks..."

"You're welcome." He hands them over to her. "Nice panties, by the way."

Rory scoffs, clothes clutched tightly to her chest, and calls him a pig as he retreats to the showers. He just laughs.

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She and Adam are the first two to leave the room. They're forced to walk past their former JV teammates as they start to practice, and Rory finds sick pleasure in the fact that Orion is torturing them.

Wilson meets them by the entrance. He hands her an ice pack for her face.

"You did good, kid." He says, then turns to Adam. "You, too."

"Thanks, coach."

She cracks the ice pack as they walk away, the warm feeling that the praise gave her going ignored.

(And neither of them notices Averman trying to get their attention from behind them.)

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An hour or so later, when the sun is starting to set in the sky, Rory stands in front of one of the various pay phones in the lobby of her dorm building. The only other person in the room is the security guard at the front desk who keeps nodding off, so she freely twirls the cord around her pointer finger and rocks on her heels as she makes her third call in the last few minutes. Her first was to Dean, an attempt to see if the news of her apparent betrayal had reached Illinois, but he didn't answer, so she assumed that it did and she moved on. Her second was to Bombay, who also failed to pick up. She ranted to his machine in a whisper, her voice breaking as she begged him to make good on his promises and come back to her and Charlie and fix everything.

This last call is to home. Or, at least, to Michigan.

On the third ring, someone picks up.

"Hello?" Krystal says, groggy from sleep.

"Hey. It's me."

Hearing Krystal's voice hits Rory with a flood of emotion that leaves her slightly breathless.

"Oh! Rory!" There are muffled sounds of movement on the other side. "How's it going, sweetheart?"

"It's going as okay as it can... Did Dad tell you what happened?"

"Yeah, he did." Krystal's frowning. Rory can see it now. "Are the boys giving you any issues?"

"Yes and no." She answers semi-truthfully. "One kind of hates my guts, but the rest are alright, I guess..."

Then, as an afterthought, she adds.

"Well, this one guy likes to get on my nerves, but he's pretty harmless in the grand scheme of things..."

(Harmless? He intends to squish those JV kids like bugs——)

"Hm. If that boy pushes you too far, kick his ass."

Rory laughs quietly and hugs herself tighter.

"I'll try my best..."

"Seriously, though, if you need to come home, Rory. just let me know. Even if it's only for a weekend."

Her breath hitches, slightly. Krystal notices.

"Rory?"

Rory doesn't respond.

"Do you need to come home?"

Again, she's silent. Tears burn at her eyes.

"I know you and your dad are in a really weird position right now, but all you need to do is say the words, okay?"

I want to go home.

I want to go home.

I want to go home.

(Where even is home anymore?)

"You know those pictures on my wall?" She asks instead, her words warbling with emotion. "The ones of me and my friends?"

"Yes."

"Take them down."

"What?"

"Take—— take them down. Please."

Krystal sighs into the receiver. "What should I do with them?"

"Shove them in a drawer. Burn them. Throw them out. I don't care—— I don't want them on my wall anymore."

She's very much crying now, doing her best to keep quiet. Her chest shakes with silent sobs.

"...alright."

Her stepmother stays on the phone with her for a few more minutes before she has to go.

Rory, feeling hollow after saying goodbye, wipes her face and dashes back up the stairs before the guard can even notice that she's crying. It's quiet and dark, like her house usually is, and she fully intends to just curl up in bed and continue to block out the world.

But, then, she stops.

The light to the floor's common room, which is right next to the stairs, is on.

Each common room has two vending machines, one for various snack items and one for drinks, and a television that only displays the school news channel; there are a few couches spread about in front of the screen and a table or two with some chairs that students can do work at. Rory can't hear anything—— not the peppy newscaster, not either of the vending machines being used, nor a pen or pencil on paper—— and that, annoyingly, piques her curiosity.

Before she can stop herself, she's creeping up to the threshold and being shocked by what she finds.

Sitting on the alcove at the foot of the window furthest from the door is Rick, a lit cigarette on his lip and a pair of sweatpants clinging to his legs. He's staring off into the wilderness as he smokes through the open window, probably watching the sunset that bathes his face in hues of gold and purple, though Rory has a hard time believing that he'd do something so... soft and human.

For a brief moment, she considers knocking on the doorway and getting his attention, but she quickly decides against it.

Unfortunately, though, she steps back onto a board that creaks, and his head whips in her direction immediately.

When he sees it's just her, his face softens.

"Oh, hey."

Rory tries not to cringe and steps back into the doorway. "Hey..."

"Why are you up?"

"I guess I could ask you the same thing..."

The corner of his lip quirks up and he taps his ashes into the ashtray on his lap.

Seeing no way out of this, now, she crosses the room and hesitantly sits on the opposite end of the bench from him. The air around him reeks of his expensive cologne and nicotine.

"I asked you first." He points out after she settles.

"I'm too tired to sleep... but I had to make a few phone calls, only got in contact with one person." She mumbles as she picks at the same spot on the sleeve of her sweater. "Boring, I know."

Actually, it might be Lester's sweater.

"That's far more interesting than what I've got going on."

"No. You don't get to do that. I spilled so now you have to, too."

Rick laughs and shakes his head. She notes the way his eyes crinkle in the corners.

"I got into a fight with some of my—— our guys."

Rory scans him over with her eyes, cocking her head. He didn't exactly look like he just got back from a fight.

The dark-haired boy, annoyingly, seems to read her mind. "Not that kind of fight, genius."

She huffs. "Then the correct word would be argument, genius."

He rolls his eyes half-heartedly.

"What about, if you don't mind me asking?"

Part of Rory wants her to punch herself for even sitting here and talking to him so civilly, but the bigger and smarter part understands something that those JV kids will never understand. If she wants to survive this school year, she has to be nice to him in order to stay off his radar. Doing this—— humoring him—— is going to save her skin in the end.

Besides, maybe Rachel will appreciate all of the hot gossip she gets out of her older brother.

"You."

Rory blinks, taken aback, as he points at her with his cigarette.

"Me?"

"Mhm. Cole doesn't like how I've been 'babying' you, and I don't like that he's been being a dick to you." Rick taps his own cheek where she's going to get a bruise on hers. "We got into it, but coach sided with me, so who cares."

Her face throbs at the reminder. She resists the urge to touch it.

"You—— what?"

"Yeah. I'm not actually that much of an asshole, you know."

"I'm sorry, this is just hard to believe coming from the guy who's been stealing lunches for several days now."

"Hey, you're not one of them. You're one of us. It's different."

Rory snorts and shakes her head in disbelief.

If only he knew just how clear that point had been made today.

"Whatever you say, Rick."

They fall into an awkward silence after that, and she leans her head back on the wall, closes her eyes, and wonders why she's like this.

"Thanks...I guess. For sticking up for me."

"No problem." Rick's probably smirking. "You look stressed, Myrtle. Want one?"

Immediately, she's shaking her head.

"Cancer runs in my family. I'm not stupid—— no offense."

"None taken."

More silence. This time, the unruly gurgle of her stomach breaks it, and her eyes snap open, face flushing with embarrassment.

She hasn't eaten since breakfast—— and she puked up breakfast.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Are they still serving dinner in the cafeteria?"

Rick stubs his cigarette and gets up. "Maybe, but you're not going there."

Rory stares up at him, confused.

"I was going to go for a drive to clear my head, anyway. Why don't you come with me?"

"I'm not supposed to be getting into cars with boys."

He rolls his eyes, again. "I'm not a stranger."

"I never said strangers." She quips back in a much quieter voice. "I just said boys."

He extends a hand to her wordlessly. She debates with herself internally, glancing between his face and his fingers skeptically.

On one hand, this could be the Carrie-esque trap she was worried about earlier and he could have the most sinister, ulterior motives known to man.

On the other, she's hungry, and if she has to go back to her room right now she'll just wallow in her sadness instead of sleeping...

She hesitates to take the offer.

"Promise you're just going to take me out to eat?"

"I solemnly swear."

Rory takes the hand extended to her and lets Rick pull her to her feet.

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a/n:

word count -- 4170

this is the best attempt at enemies to anything you will ever get from me.

idk i've been watching a whole lot of dazed and confused content lately, so bobby is like meant to be a weird combination of like benny's body with pink's personality? idk. he's important to the story in a way, so just pay attention.