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13│THE CHRISTMAS PLAY DISASTER

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❛ ʟᴇᴀᴛʜᴇʀ & ʟᴀᴄᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs ᴘʟᴀʏ
ᴅɪsᴀsᴛᴇʀ ꒱


❝ CAN I BE A BREAKDANCING
SHEPHERD

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"This year we've decided to do something a bit different," Mrs. Davis announced to her class sometime in early November. "Instead of putting on a Christmas play together as a school, each class is selecting their own topic to perform." Her students groaned in unison as no one was very happy thinking about the extra work this would mean. "Oh, shush. It won't be as bad as you think. At least this way, you'll have some say in what we do. Over the next few days, I'd like you all to think about what selection you would prefer and at the end of the week, we'll make a decision."

The bell rang for lunch and the students quickly rushed out of the room before their teacher could give them any more assignments. Miya, as usual, was slower to put away her books as she preferred to avoid the crush of her classmates making a beeline for the cafeteria. Jonah waited for her patiently, twirling the unplugged string of his orange headphones around in the air as he did so.

"Whatever we do," he began in a slightly loud voice to be heard over the commotion, "I'll definitely be on sound. Memorizing for the sake of memorizing is a waste of my brain space."

The brunette huffed, slightly jealous of his talent. She stood and pushed her chair in before they made their way to the door. "Do you need an assistant? Or a snack runner? Or literally anything? Because if I don't have a preassigned job, I just know I'll somehow get a role with too many lines to memorize."

He gave her a sympathetic smile, knowing that the school play was her least favorite time of the year. "Don't worry, I'll find a job for you, even if it's just putting my headphones on my head for me."

She gave him a grateful look as they walked through the now mostly-empty halls. Although they'd been 'dating' for more than a year now, it still felt a little. . . forced. She wasn't sure how to describe it, but affectionate gestures such as hand-holding didn't seem to come them as easily to them as she'd hoped. Still, Jonah was Jonah, and he continued to be there for her and save her from as much reading as possible.

Wanting to express her appreciation for his support, she hesitantly reached forward to grab his hand. The brunet, however, didn't notice her attempt and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Miya's hand closed around empty air, and it was only after she pulled her fingers away did the boy catch her motion. He smiled guiltily. "Oh, sorry. Um, did you want to hold hands?"

Her dark eyes darted to the ground, embarrassed that she'd been caught. "Only if you want to," she answered quickly. "It's okay if you don't."

He shook his head and took one hand from his pocket to offer it to her. "I don't mind."

Except, now that they'd had a conversation about it, she wasn't really sure if she wanted to anymore. Still, she didn't want to upset him and allowed his to thread his fingers between hers. It was little things like that— simple interactions that were normal for couples that didn't seem to come naturally to them. Either she missed his attempts, or he missed hers, but they never seemed to line up properly.

They continued to walk down the hall towards the cafeteria, hand-in-hand. Jonah glanced over at her. "Do you have any idea what you want the play to be?"

She shook her head. "I just hope that whatever's chosen isn't Alyssa's choice. She's already class Queen; the play would only add fuel to her fire."

Here, Miya meant that Alyssa was 'class Queen' both literally and figuratively. Literally, because they'd had elections last year for who would be the class representative and, of course, Alyssa and her friends had been picked. But, rather than it being a democratic system like it usually was, she'd changed the ruling and insisted that the seventh-graders were now a monarchy. Figuratively, because the brunette was the definition of Queen Bee; if you looked the word up in the dictionary, her picture would be there.

Although Jonah agreed, he didn't deign his girlfriend a response as they'd reached the cafeteria and his reply would've been drowned out by the noise. As usual, it was a crowded, chaotic place that was filled with kids of all ages. The younger ones were, actually, more well behaved than their older counterparts, who tossed greetings, food, and obscenities in equal measure across the room. Miya and Jonah were more prone to sitting with the younger grades because of this, despite the affect it had on their popularity (or lack thereof.)

The only table that had noticeable space was Alyssa's table, where the three girls sat with some of the 'cooler' eighth graders, holding court. Miya could just imagine them conspiring against the rest of the class as they came up with what constituted as ideas for the class play (probably entitled 'Alyssa's Life: Starring Alyssa Nuñez.') She couldn't pull her gaze away from the table as dread settled in her stomach. Her lips turned into a frown as she watched Alyssa toss her silky brown hair over her shoulder and laugh loudly at something the older kids said.

Then, there was a tug on her arm as Jonah brought her attention back to the present. He gestured over to the first grade table, where they usually sat. "Don't worry about them. Let's have lunch."

Knowing there was nothing that she could do to stop whatever 'triple A' was planning, Miya nodded in agreement and tried to put the concern out of her mind.

🌎🌎🌎

By the end of the week, neither Jonah nor Miya had any opinion of what they wanted the play to be about. So, they listened to their classmates present their ideas to everyone. Mrs. Davis gestured for the first group to start, which consisted of two boys, Kevin and Mark, and a girl, Lily.

Mark stood in front of the trio and spoke in a dramatic voice: "I know we're all tired of the same old plays. The Nutcracker, A Christmas Carol— who cares about some old guy who likes being rich? Instead, we've reimagined the traditional Christmas play for you: Santa's Disco Inferno. Santa and his elves break into a disco dance-off with the Grinch, and they all learn the true meaning of Christmas through dance!"

Lily pressed play on her phone and the trio then attempted to— very badly— breakdance, which resulted in them bumping into each other quite a few times. Up at the front of the classroom, Alyssa sneered at their 'performance' loudly. "Is this for real?"

Mrs. Davis clapped to get the group's attention. "Alright, alright. Thank you. That's. . . er, very creative. Is the next group ready?"

This went on for a bit longer— as apparently not many people had cared enough to come up with anything— before the older woman gestured towards the brunette. "Alyssa, save us, please."

She sent her teacher a bright smile. "Of course, Mrs. Davis." She snapped her fingers in her friends' direction. "Let's go, girls."

They (somehow) walked perfectly in sync up to the front. Autumn set up a tripod and placed a sparkly, gold-and-silver poster board on it. Then, she and Ashton stepped back, like sentries, to allow their 'leader' to speak. Alyssa gave the class a bright smile. "Well, we've seen all of your presentations and they were. . ." She trailed off and glanced at Mrs. Davis, who gave her a subtle nod.

She stifled a sigh and, in a slightly pained voice, continued, ". . .interesting. As your class Queen, I've taken it upon myself to put together something that I think everyone will like. It's not about boring, traditional plays with old, rich men." She pointed to Mark, who saluted her. It has some element of magic, too." She pointed to another student, who looked pleased. "It's even got. . . Christmas spirit."

"Very good!" Mrs. Davis exclaimed, relieved. "I'm sure we're all excited to hear what you girls have come up with."

Alyssa nodded to her before she stepped to the side to reveal what was set up on her poster board. "We've decided that the Christmas play this year will be the Nativity scene. My daddy's church is doing one and I'm already playing Mary there, so I'll be perfect for the role—"

Her teacher cleared her throat. "That sounds lovely, Alyssa. However, it will be the class's vote that decides our play—"

"Nah, I'm cool with it," Mark called out. "It hurt my brain to think of something original."

The class began to chime in with the rest of their agreement, save for Miya and Jonah, who exchanged an apprehensive look. Mrs. Davis recognized she'd been defeated and waved a hand in the brunette's direction. "Very well, carry on."

Alyssa's smile widened. "We've also already selected everyone's roles." She began to walk around the room, stopping at each student's desk as she gave her orders. "Mark, you'll be a shepherd."

"Can I be a breakdancing shepherd?"

"No," she replied flatly, though her smile remained sickeningly sweet.

Despite the disappointment that made him slump in his seat, the boy was rather accepting of her reply. "Aw, man."

"Lily, you'll be one of the wise men."

"But I'm a girl!"

Again, her short response of "I don't care" was paired with a quirk of her lips that made her harsh delivery soften, and Lily agreed to her position unhappily.

Miya watched the other girl apprehensively as she made her way around the room, just knowing that Alyssa was saving her and Jonah for last. Then, the whole class's attention would be on them and make whatever role they'd decided so much more humiliating. It would probably be like forest tree number three, or something like that. Still, at least there wouldn't be any reading parts.

Finally, the brunette stopped in front of the pair. She addressed Jonah first with that same, falsely sweet expression. While that look had captured many of their classmates and manipulated them into doing things that they didn't want to do (like being a female wise man), they weren't fooled by it.

Alyssa placed both of her hands on either side of Jonah's desk and leaned forward. The motion caused her sheet of shiny, chocolate brown hair to fall over her shoulder and drape across the table. He gave the offending strands a look a great disgust and visibly leaned away from the girl, tipping his chair on its back legs to get away from her. "Jonah," she began, with an unusual amount of politeness, "you'll be Joseph. My husband."

The thought was so terrible and startling that the boy lost his balance on his chair and landed on the ground with an almighty crash!

Miya jerked backwards in alarm and stood quickly to help her best friend up. "Jonah! Are you alright?"

He accepted her hand and stood, a little shocked but otherwise fine as the class laughed around them. "Yeah, I'm okay." He looked over at the brunette, who was waiting with her arms crossed against her chest. "No, thanks. I can't imagine anything worse than being married to you."

If it were just the three of them, Alyssa would have snapped something nasty back. As it was, everyone was still watching the trio, so she just grimaced in reply, her smile looking more pained by the minute. "You can't refuse. Everyone has to participate."

"I'll do sound," he offered hastily.

"Nope. You're Joseph. Now, it's your turn," she said, turning to Miya. The Asian girl stood frozen, her hand still clutching the brunet's, as Alyssa's dark eyes found hers. Miya felt like fly caught in a spider's web, and the spider was staring at her with cruel excitement, anticipating her head-meat. "You'll be the reader."

There it was.

"W-what?" she stuttered. She couldn't seem to breathe evenly, each breath coming shallowly in her chest. All she could do was stare at Alyssa's bright brown eyes, glittering with delight at her horror.

"I said," the other girl began, speaking very slowly as if she were talking to a particularly dumb toddler, "you will be the reader. The Bible doesn't really have any dialogue to memorize, after all, and we'll need someone to set the scene. You'll be perfect for that job."

Miya couldn't think of anything she could say in her defense; every known word— both in English and Japanese— seemed to vanish from her mind. Luckily, Jonah, who was always quick to say something in her defense, protested, "come on, Alyssa, this is ridiculous. Miya doesn't have to do this. We can just have Mrs. Davis read the verses. There's no need to single her out."

"But everyone has to participate," the brunette pointed out, her lips pulling into a pout that would have convinced any other classmate to do as she said. "Miya doesn't have a roll yet and all the other ones are taken. Plus, we wouldn't want to burden Mrs. Davis with one more thing to do around Christmastime, now would we?"

She raised her voice loud enough for their teacher to hear as she spoke the last sentence, which earned her an indulgent look in return. Alyssa turned to face them again, this time with a smirk, knowing that she'd get her way. She flipped her silky, brown hair over her shoulder and wiggled her fingers at the pair in a mocking sort of way before she headed back to the front of the room.

🌎🌎🌎

Miya finally got her words back on the bus ride home, where she ranted to the boy next to her. "I can't believe—"

"I know," he agreed sympathetically.

"That little—"

"She is," the brunet conceded again.

The Asian girl curled her fingers in her lap, her hands fisting tightly against her legs. "Why does it always—"

"It might be better next year," Jonah offered half-heartedly.

When the bus pulled to a stop in front of their apartment building, they got off with hardly noticing they'd arrived. "I don't know what I'm going to do. If I got someone else to read it for me, Alyssa will win. If I do it myself, she'll also win, because everyone knows I freeze up when I read in English."

"We'll think of something," her best friend told her encouragingly. "After all, I'm a genius." This was paired with a teasing smile to make the words less boastful.

She returned the expression, though with a lot less confidence. When they got to their floor, they paused outside of their respective apartments as some of their natural camaraderie fell into awkwardness. Jonah placed his hand on the doorknob to make his way inside when he stilled, seeming to remember something. He turned back to the girl, who was still watching him her hands clasped around the straps of her backpack. There was an anticipatory sort of air about her as her dark eyes stayed trained on him.

"Oh. . . right," the brunet realized.

He let his hand drop from the doorknob and he crossed the hall to where the stood. Although it was never something that he particularly looked forward to, it had become a part of their routine in this. . . 'new' (despite the fact that it had already been a year) status of theirs. Miya tilted her head up slightly and he leaned forward to place the barest of pecks on her lips. It seemed to satisfy the brunette, whose smile became much more genuine (even if it didn't quite reach her eyes.)

"See you tomorrow?" she said as a way of goodbye.

"Yeah, see you," he allowed, turning (hastily) back to his apartment door.

When Miya opened her own door, she was greeted with the sight of her mother sitting at the head of the kitchen island with her head buried in her arms. Her dark hair spilled out strikingly against the white marble counter and she sat so motionless that the younger girl's heart gave a jolt of split-second fear that something was terribly wrong. In a concerned voice, she asked, "mom?"

Thankfully, Juliet lifted her head at her daughter's question, immediately alleviating almost all of the brunette's worry. While she appeared outwardly fine, her words were sort of. . . hollow and shell-shocked when she replied: "we're. . . going to New York for Christmas. Topanga told me so."

Despite her tone, Miya slung her backpack to the ground. She launched herself towards her mother with a loud 'yaaay!' as some of the dread caused by Alyssa's announcement was replaced with excitement.

🌎🌎🌎

Several hours earlier

Juliet had been on her lunch break when she'd gotten a call on her cell phone, which was the only reason why she'd answered it in the first place; otherwise, she would've waited to call whoever it was back when she got home. The screen had lit up with an unknown number whose only recognizable digits indicated that it was coming from the U.S., specifically New York. Normally, she wouldn't picked that up either, since it was probably a spam call, but she'd been bored.

So, she answered it with a questioning, "hello?"

"'. . .'"

There was only the faint rustle of someone else on the other side, so she guessed it was a spam call. Still, she repeated, "hello?"

"'. . . Jules?'"

The nickname made her heart drop out of her chest. There were only three people who didn't call her by her full name ('Gollum' and 'mom' excluded.) One of them called her Julie, so at least she didn't have a complete heart attack, but still. . . her voice came out kind of choked as she asked, ". . . Cory?"

"'Now, why was that your first guess? I could've been Topanga.'"

She let out a shaky, watery laugh as she marveled at how surreal this was. It had been years and years since she'd spoken with her childhood friends, and yet it immediately seemed as if no time at all had passed. Jokingly, she replied, "sorry. Is this Topanga?"

"'Nah, you got it right on the first try. Anyway, what's up?'"

The dark-haired woman shook her head, hardly able to believe that Cory was acting like they hadn't been apart for thirteen years. ". . . How'd you get my number?"

"'Well, from my daughter. Y'know, Riley? Yeah, well, she happens to be friends with your daughter. Hey— why didn't you tell me that you had one?'" This was added in a playful way rather than an accusatory one.

Juliet froze as she recalled her daughter mentioning the name Riley. Yeah, Riley and Maya are Farkle's other best friends. I get to talk with them on our video calls sometimes. "I. . . didn't know she was your daughter. Um, congratulations."

"'Thanks. I did half the work, after all. We also have a son, Auggie. But what about your daughter?'"

A second voice joined the line, causing her heart to drop again. "'Cory, don't badger her. Hi, peaches.'"

"Hi, Panga," she said, a little breathless from the shock of it all. Then, she had a sudden, dawning horror and quickly asked, "is there anyone else with you that I should know about?"

"'Nope. It's just me and Topanga; the kids are off at school.'"

She let out a breath of relief, her tense shoulder relaxing at the reassurance that the third person wouldn't be joining them. "So, yeah, I have a daughter. I adopted her a couple of years after I moved to England."

The pair on the other line 'awwed' at that. Topanga spoke next, her tone taking on the 'lawyer lady' quality, as Cory called it. "'You'll have to tell us all about that when we see you in New York for Christmas.'"

"New York? I. . . I don't know. I mean, this is the first time we're talking in over a decade. Why?"

There was a moment of silence before Cory said, "'well, you did disappear on us—'"

He was quickly cut off with an 'oomf' as his wife elbowed him sharply. She talked over him to hide his accusation: "'we're sorry; we didn't know how to find you. And, well, life got away from us. But that's why we're trying to fix things. We're inviting everyone over for Christmas Eve and it just wouldn't feel right without you.'"

Although the sentiment made her chest feel fuzzy and warm, Juliet was still wary about what they weren't telling her. ". . . And who do you mean by 'everyone?'"

"'My mom, my dad, my brother, Josh, Maya, and hopefully you.'"

She knew it. Of course they wouldn't have a reunion without Shawn. She sighed and shook her head, though it was more for herself than them. "Yeah, I don't think so. I'm sorry, I just. . . can't."

"'Why can't you?'" Topanga prompted her.

Putting on a falsetto voice, Cory mimicked his wife by saying, "'don't badger her Cory— er, Topanga.'" He let out a little shriek following his words and Juliet imagined that Topanga had nailed him with one of her 'you're in so much trouble' glares.

Picturing the scene made her smile and she felt her heart give a tug of longing to be there with them. But then the reminder of Shawn loomed over her, like a dark cloud on a sunny day. "I just don't want to make things awkward. I mean, I haven't seen any of you guys in forever and-and Shawn. . . "

There was another pause where the pair were undoubtedly exchanging a knowing look. "'You don't have to see him,'" Topanga reassured her (suspiciously) quickly. "'He's coming in the evening. You can come in the morning and leave before he gets here.'"

"I. . . I don't know," she hesitated, her. . . fear (because that's what it was, despite what she might claim otherwise) making her waver.

"'I do,'" the woman on the other side informed her. "'And you're coming to New York this Christmas. We're looking forward to seeing you.'"

🌎🌎🌎

December 20th

Miya rushed into the sound room not long before the performance was due to start. The three teachers in charge of the music for each of the plays that were taking place looked up from their preparation of the system at her entrance. Flushing slightly under the adults' attention, she held out the voice recorder— a stroke of genius that had been Jonah's solution.

"Here," she explained nervously. "I recorded myself reading the part for our play."

"You're just in time," one of the teachers said, taking it from her. "We were about to set up the mic for you."

The brunette gestured to the device. "Everything's in order so you just have to press play. I have to go help out with the props now."

They waved her out and, once the door shut, she leaned against it with her eyes closed for a second. The anxious knot that had sat in her chest for several weeks eased; she hadn't been sure that they would accept her recording so she'd waited until the last possible minute to turn it in. After gathering herself, she headed backstage where she really did have to help with the props.

The theater was dark against the bright lights of the stage but Miya knew her mom was out there in the audience somewhere. Even though she'd insisted that her mother didn't need to come (seeing as she didn't really have a part), Juliet wouldn't hear of it and bought three tickets for herself, Celeste and Kendrick. She could hear the audience cheering as the curtains rose to reveal the set of the inn and manger.

Backstage, one of Miya's classmates, Ellery, was checking the list to make sure that they had everything. They looked up from the paper to ask, "Miya, you've got the wise men's gifts, right?"

She gestured to the (fake) gold-inlaid boxes that held their versions of the gifts. The frankincense was flour, the gold were chocolate coins still in their wrappers and the myrrh was in the only box that had a lid since no one really knew what it looked like. Looking around the crowded space, the Asian girl felt surge of last-minute panic as she questioned, "where are the sheep?"

"Over here!" another classmate responded, holding up one of the stuffed sheep that the shepherds would use. She let out a breath of relief.

Then, Miya cringed a bit as she heard the sound of her own voice on the loudspeakers slowly but determinedly reading the passage from the Bible: "in those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while[a] Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to their own town to register. . ."

The Asian girl tried not to listen to herself reading and instead peeked out from behind the curtain to watch Mary and Joseph's procession to the inn, where they were denied as the story went. As the play came to a close, the recording of her voice finished: "'Get up,' he said, 'take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.'"

Miya was supposed to keep reading here, until Joseph had moved his family to Nazareth when the passage concluded— and she thought she had, but she'd run out of time to listen to the recording in its entirety. Instead of continuing with the reading, she broke off to complain: "Joseph should have divorced Mary when he had the chance. All this moving around and for what— the son of God? I'd rather not fear for my life because of a kid no matter how great he's supposed to be, thanks."

The brunette's eyes widened with horror as the sound of the audience mumbling in confusion made its way backstage. She whirled away from the stage as her voiceover continued to rant about how gross their age difference was, anyway, and that Mary had been too young to have a child. Ellery accidentally got in her way, still holding the frankincense box. They stared at her with equal dismay and demanded, "what's going on?"

"Don't ask!" she said quickly, hoping to get to the sound room as fast as possible. (Had she been a little jealous that Alyssa picked Jonah to be her husband? Yes. Had she been angry at the other girl for forcing her to read and make a fool of herself? Also yes. Queue the rant.)

She tried to get around Ellery, who kept getting in her way as they mirrored her steps. She shoved at them unintentionally to guide them in the opposite direction, and the surprise push set them off balance. The 'frankincense' tipped over and the white puff of flour spilled down the front of her shirt. Still, that was the least of her worries and she ignored the mess as she darted towards the backstage door.

Luckily, the teachers in the sound room were on it and switched her voiceover off to put on instrumental music instead. The stage lights turned to their full brightness and someone— Miya strongly suspected that it was her mother— started clapping, which prompted everyone else to join in as the curtains fell.

🌎🌎🌎

Once the seventh-grade class's performance ended, the students gathered backstage to discuss the event among themselves.

"What kind of Bible reading was that?" one student wondered as they pulled their shepherd's robes over their head. "Miya really messed it up, didn't she?"

"Alyssa's going to have her head," agreed someone else. "At least, even more than usual."

"It was completely ruined!" Autumn interrupted them, glaring at the pair. "She did that to humiliate Alyssa on purpose."

Ashton nodded self-importantly. Addressing the absent Asian girl with a politically incorrect insult that she'd heard Alyssa use before, she added, ". . . is always the problem. She never does anything right."

Jonah shot them all a furious look, but going to find Miya was more important than setting them straight. As he left the backstage, he let the door slam! behind him as he went to the sound room. He'd guessed she'd gone their to collect her recording and had been too afraid to come out again. He tapped lightly on the door and announced, "it's Jonah."

"Come in," the brunette answered, though her voice was softer and cracked slightly.

When he opened the door he found her sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. The recorder was held loosely in her hands, which were clasped together in front of her legs. He came over and sat next to her, where she promptly leaned her head on his shoulder— a gesture that, for once, he didn't mind. He reached forward to freed one of her hands to take it in his supportively.

"I messed everything up," she said miserably. "Alyssa already has it out for me, doesn't she?"

"You didn't mess anything up," Jonah told her firmly. At her disbelieving look, he amended, "on purpose. And besides, she doesn't have it out for you any more than usual."

The brunette sniffed and placed the recorder on the ground to brush away her tears. "Why didn't I listen to this thing the whole way through? I thought I grabbed the right one! I can't believe the whole school heard all that."

"Well, maybe they'll forget it by the time we get back from Christmas break," he suggested. "They'll be too excited about their presents to remember anything else."

"Alyssa will remember," Miya pointed out.

Unfortunately, if you speak of the devil, she will appear. The sound room's door banged open to reveal the fuming brunette. She didn't even have her usual duo of girls behind her, but her solo appearance was enough to cause the Asian girl to flinch back and cower into Jonah's side. Her brown eyes snapped as she glared at the other girl, and she bit out: "you're a total loser, Miya Capelwood. I always knew you were a walking disaster, but this is just a whole new level of pathetic. I thought that you had to pick being either careless or just plain stupid, but apparently you can do both."

Before the pair could say anything in response, the door opened a second time, which caused Alyssa to whip around to take in the newcomer. This time, Miya's face became awash with relief as Juliet had come looking for her daughter, knowing she would be reeling from the disaster. Her eyes fell on the scene, taking in the way the tall brunette stood over her daughter and how Jonah had shifted to sit protectively next to her. The older woman's gaze narrowed suspiciously. "What the hell is going on here?"

Alyssa arched an eyebrow at the adult and asked coolly, "who are you?"

"I'm Juliet Capelwood, Miya's mother. Don't make me ask again."

The middle schooler scoffed at her response. She looked critically between the two, taking in Juliet's longer black hair and the way it made her skin look even paler then it already was and the sharpness of her blue eyes (in contrast to Miya's shorter, brown hair and bangs, more olive skin and dark brown eyes.) She turned her sneer back on the Asian girl. "Yeah, I can see the resemblance. Being a loser seems to run in your family."

Juliet's expression flared into anger at the attack against her daughter. She stalked across the room to where the brunette stood and placed herself between them with her arms crossed. "Yeah, middle school insults aren't going to work on me. Why don't you try explaining the situation like an adult?"

"Juliet," Jonah put in quickly, "this is Alyssa. Alyssa Nuñez."

At the mention of the name, the dark-haired woman's expression sharpened, having heard her daughter express her frustration at the girl's actions before. She gave the boy a short nod in response.

Alyssa, unaccustomed to having a grown-up standing up to her, huffed in annoyance. "Whatever. Your daughter ruined my— the play, and now she's pretending to be the victim. I was just setting her straight."

"Oh, how noble of you," the older woman retorted. "The truth according to a middle schooler with a superiority complex. Color me impressed."

The brunette rolled her eyes, crossing her arms defensively. "Look, I don't need to explain myself to anyone. But you should know that your daughter is a disaster waiting to happen. She messed up the whole play and it's all her fault."

"We both heard that recording, Alyssa. Do you honestly think that Miya would do that on purpose?" The answer was clearly yes for the younger girl, but she didn't bother to reply. Juliet continued firmly: "furthermore, I won't tolerate anyone treating my daughter like this. Now, why don't you take a step back and let the adults handle this?"

Alyssa glared mutinously at the older woman. "Fine, whatever. But she better not ruin anything else. I worked hard on that play and she just—"

"Enough," Juliet cut across her. "I don't want to hear any more from you right now. Miya, let's go home. Alyssa, we'll discuss this with the school and find a resolution. But if you ever speak to my daughter like that again, there will be consequences."

With that, the older woman swept from the room with her shoulders squared and her head held high. Miya gave Alyssa a nervous glance and hurried after her mother, while Jonah gave the remaining brunette a look of deep dislike before he followed the two women out of the room.











A/n: next chapter! Next chapter!

(That's it. That's the tweet :) )

Actually, just kidding. As excited as I am to write/publish the next chapter(s), I'm also worried that I've hyped it up too much :/ 

I recently read a MCU fanfic that had some highly-anticipated chapters (that I was also really looking forward to), but every single one was a total let down for me. Although I'm pretty confident in what I have planned for the reunion episode (which is my own bias), I just hope that everyone will enjoy it as much as they think they will. After all, I have been looking forward to/planning these chapters since I started writing Ocean Eyes in 2018 (5 years!!) 

So yeah, there's that.

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