It Doesn't Hurt It Feels Fine

Scene 1: Outside of Addington High

Heather Blakely

"Goodbye, see you at home."

"Wait a minute. There's something I want to talk to you about," my father said before I could leave the car.

"Am I in trouble?"

"No," he takes brochures out of the inside of his jacket and hands them to me. "Your mother wanted to have this discussion together, but I know how you'd react."

"You're sending me to boarding school?"

"If you'd like to go."

"Where is this coming from?"

"We've noticed your recent mood. You seemed to have befitted from a change of scenery before. If it would help again-"

"I don't want to leave home," I responded, quickly.

"We could go with you..."

"...You could?"

"I've been considering relocating to California. That's why I wanted to talk to you first. We could do boarding school, or we can all move— as a family."

"...do I have time to think about it?"

He nodded. "As much as you need."

"Okay...bye. Love you."

"I love you too. Do well in school today."

The door opened, and I climbed out of the car, the brochures still in my hand.

We've only ever lived here. Traveling doesn't compare, Manhattan is still all I know.

But California is warm...it's far away from here...a fresh start.

The faces on the brochures are of smiling kids in front of beautiful schools that promise state-of-the-art facilities and flourishing social clubs.

The lack of familiar faces is a good enough sell for me-

I look up from my reading when I'm shoved by someone's shoulder.

I turned to see who it was, and my teeth gritted when I saw her. "Excuse you."

"What?" Elle snapped.

"Don't pretend you didn't just push me."

"Were you in my way?"

"No, you were in mine. But, clearly they don't teach manners where you're from."

"That is the last time you bitches are going to act like you're better than me," she practically yelled.

"Please," I scoffed. "Who's acting?"

"I don't know what your deal is but you've got the wrong girl if you think I'm just going to take it."

"The wrong girl?" I rolled my eyes. "Get over yourself. Who are you?"

"I think you know."

"Then you're not thinking very hard."

She smirked. "I'm dating the boy who broke up with you."

"Is that what he told you?" I laughed. "God, I don't even care to get into it. Just enjoy your turn."

"My turn?" Elle said, taking it personally.

"I'd say you have two more months before it's time to start looking for a rebound of your own."

"You-"

"No, not me. Take your misplaced concern elsewhere. I don't want whatever crawls away from you. If you're working this hard to keep him what makes you think anyone else wants to save you the trouble?"

She groaned. "Does it suck to be this bitter? I almost feel bad for you. You want everyone to believe you're important so you don't have to face that you're just a rich nobody."

"Is that so?" I smiled. "Well, you poor thing. I'm a 'nobody' and yet you still have to live in my shadow. I almost feel bad for you."

"Oh, you want to feel bad?" She tossed her bag on the ground and started to approach me.

"Ehem." Headmistress Sanderson's harsh demeanor cut in before anything could happen. "This better not be what it looks like." And if either of us answered instead of glaring at each other, perhaps we could've been on our way by now. "Is this how young ladies are supposed to behave?" She asked, rhetorically. "Detention for both of you after school today."

Scene 2: Addington High Courtyard

Leo Rylin

"Do you need the answers to the math quiz?" Danny asked.

"You have them?"

"Yeah, I grabbed one of the tests off the printer and had someone fill it out for me. Step by step answers."

Danny and I take the same class with the same teacher just at different times. I'm glad he has it before me because neither of us is good at it and I can at least see what he did wrong.

Or let him swipe the answers for me.

"I mean...shit, yeah, I'll hide it under my scratch paper or something."

"She's fucking blind, you won't have to hide anything. I can light a cigarette in her class and she'd still wonder where the smell was coming from."

"Looks like she's got a pair of goggles on her face," I chuckled. "It's crazy to think she stares at that textbook all day like it's not the fucking problem."

"Yeah..." he said, gazing off somewhere else.

"What is it?"

Danny shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."

My eyes retrace where he was just looking and find someone reading one of the school newspapers— the front page with a headline about Heather's little show, and a big picture right below it.

"Can I see that?" I asked the girl, and she looked a bit confused but handed it over anyway.

And I'm not 'worried' seeing the picture of Heather...mouth to mouth with some guy.

I'm...

Wow.

I've never seen her in that dress before. She has so many of them...and I bet he liked it. Any guy would, it's that kind of dress.

And if that was his motive for kissing her, she needs to be careful with that kind of guy. I think he's touching her too much. He's too comfortable. His hands are too low.

Who the fuck even is-

"You seen him before?" I said to Danny.

He shrugged. "Don't think so."

"Hm." I nodded and turned the newspaper around to the back so that the picture was facing down.

"You good?"

"Yeah," I shrugged.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm good. This—" I held up the paper, "I don't care." I go to toss it somewhere on the floor, but stop when I almost hit Audrey.

"Watch it, moron," She said, snatching the newspaper out of my hand. I sucked my teeth and shook my head, but she was too busy looking at the front page to notice. "What a creep that Natalie girl is," Audrey sighed. "But good for Heather." She pushed the newspaper up against my chest so I'd grab hold of it again. "You know what they say about Italian guys." She smirked.

"No," Danny scoffed. "And I'm Italian."

"Real Italian, not The Godfather, Michael Corleone." Audrey sneered as she walked away.

"What the fuck?"

"If I told her I was part Italian too, she'd really think we were in the mafia."

Danny scoffed. "Where does she think they come from? Fake Italy?"

"I can't take these people anymore. Just wait until we're finally out of here."

Scene 3: Addington Library

Ethan Carey

"The Cornell University campus tour is happening soon. If you're not signed up, you will not be able to go," the guidance counselor announced. "Don't procrastinate, this is a one-time opportunity."

Once she puts the signup sheet down, I line up behind everyone else who wants to go.

"Since when are you interested in college?" Alison asked, lining up behind me.

"I'm not, but these tours are hours of college life, presumably the fun part."  I raise an eyebrow at her. "Are you going to Cornell?"

"No, Dartmouth."

"Then why are you signing up?"

She looked off to the side. "...To see what else is out there."

"Give them a fake name before you get into any trouble. Knowing you, you surely will."

Alison crossed her arms. "That's a lot coming from someone who's about to have their father thrown in prison."

"Yes, exactly. That's why my name on campus will be Ross Iverson."

"You're going to be with a group, Ross."

"I won't stay with them, Wanda Fletcher."

"Ross and Wanda?" She said in amusement.

"Am I great or what?" I smiled.

"What."

Jace came up beside her, putting an arm over her shoulder, and giving me a suspicious look in the process. "Hey."

"Hi," she replied, obviously confused at the newfound tension.

"Is there a problem, Jace?" I smirked, holding back laughter.

"No."

"Could've fooled me," I raised my eyebrows and turned away from the completely stable, not at all dysfunctional couple.

"What was that?" Alison asked in a hushed voice.

"What?" He tried to play clueless, but she glared a response out of him. "I didn't realize you two still spoke to each other. All things considered."

"We're not going to be making friendship bracelets any time soon, but I suppose everything is cordial."

"Looked more than cordial."

"What are you trying to say?"

Jace shrugged. "It's weird that you and he talk, that's all."

"You don't want me to be friends with other guys?"

"So, you are friends with him."

"You haven't complained about Trevor."

"I trust Trevor."

"Said no one ever."

Aw, Alison, you think he's jealous because of our little tryst

That's not the half of it

"Sorry, couldn't help but overhear," I butted in, too smug to keep quiet. "It just sounds to me like you don't trust Ali."

"You don't," she pressed.

"Stay out of it," he huffed at me.

"What do you think will happen with us being on speaking terms?"

"Exactly— what?"

"Don't you see what he's doing? This is why people say things about you?"

"What things?"

"Yes, what, Jace?" I crossed my arms and smiled.

"Forget it. Do whatever you want." Jace left shaking his head.

And Alison stayed...her jaw is clenched, and I believe keeping her head down is to ensure no one will see her eyes watering.

"Don't cry, Wanda. With a reputation such as his, he has no right to speak of yours."

"It's not just him. Audrey, Heather, Tony, Jace...Everyone agrees that I'm this-" she shakes her head, not wanting to hear the word. I'm guessing it starts with an 'S' and ends with a 'T'. "And it is your fault," Alison said in astonishment.

"Well, don't give me too much credit," I joked.

"You're such an-" she withholds her words again and moves back one space in line.

She didn't have to say it, I know it started with ass and ended with hole.

Scene 4: Addington High Main Hall

Leo Rylin

Elle comes down the hallway, and I meet her halfway. "Hey, ready to go?"

"I have detention," she sighed.

"Why?"

"Stupid central girl tried to pick with me."

"Who?"

"Doesn't matter. She got detention too."

"I'll walk you."

"No, you leave." She holds me back. "I'll come by your place after, yeah?"

My face scrunched in confusion. "...What's up?"

"What?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Who'd you get into a fight with?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because you're trying to hide it."

"No, I'm not. It's just not important. She's a nobody," Elle said, defensively.

"It was Heather, wasn't it?"

She rolled her eyes. "We bumped into each other and she freaked out."

"You bumped into each other?" I said doubtfully.

"She was too close, and I wasn't going to move just because she wanted to walk in the middle of the hall."

"For fuck's sake."

"What?"

"Did you say sorry?"

"Why would I apologize? She's never said sorry to me."

"Why'd you say anything to her at all?" I argued.

"Why are you getting mad at me? This whole thing started because of her."

"It's not going to stop if you start fucking with her too."

Elle scoffed. "I knew you'd defend her."

"Don't-" I began to say, but she stormed off to the detention hall.

God, I hate Mondays. Nothing good comes from Mondays.

I drag my feet along and walk after her to go sit in detention for an hour to prove to my girlfriend that I'm on her side.

"Back so soon, Leonardo?" Mr. Clay sighed when I walked into the room and sat next to Elle. "But...I don't see your name on this list."

"Okay," I shrugged and got up.

"No, remain seated," he pointed to the chair and then jotted my name down on the sheet.

"I'm sorry. I'm having a bad day, I'm tired— I just want to go home and get some sleep," I whispered to Elle. "I wasn't trying to defend her."

"You were."

"I wasn't. I hate this, you know? It's stupid having to deal with...anyone else when we're together."

I look behind me and make eye contact with Heather. She scowled and crossed her arms, probably coming to the conclusion that we were talking about her.

And she assumes the worst.

and I let her.

"I need to make a phone call," Heather stood up, not waiting for permission.

She got all of the way out of the door before Mr. Clay even pretended to find it disrespectful.

What a pushover.

Everyone's a pushover when it comes to her, huh? That guy she's kissing is probably a pushover.

"I don't want to fight about this anymore, okay?" Elle said to me.

"Okay."

"I don't want to hear her name anymore."

"I get it."

"Heather Blakely," Mr. Clay announced as Heather stood by the entrance. "Phone calls are not a detention privilege. Take your se-" His desk phone rings and interrupts him. "Hello?" He answered, and his tone suddenly changed. "Yes. I understand." We watch him sink into his seat like a sad toddler. "My apologies, Mr. Blakely." Ah, so he scares you too. When he hangs the phone up, he does his best to save face. "Heather, you're free to go."

Of fucking course.

Scene 5: The Plaza Hotel

Trevor Bailey

"Welcome home, Mr. Trevor," Harry greeted me. "I signed your emergency card. Put it in your bag so you don't forget it."

"Thank you." The school gives these cards out to students each year to have their parents add emergency contact information. Harry is the first name on my list.

"It certainly makes it easier that my information never changes."

A knock on the door stole his attention, and he quickly made his way over to answer it.

"Ms. Vivian," Harry announced, loudly as a warning to me.

My heart fell out of my chest, but I hurried toward them on impulse. "Are you out of your mind?" I asked in a harsh whisper.

"Nice to see you again. Is your father in?"

"N-"

"Vivian," a deep voice came in from behind me.

"Arthur, I've been trying to reach you at your office for the past week."

"I know. I told them not to let you through."

"I have to speak with you. It's urgent."

"Fine."

"Dad," I protested.

"Trevor, leave us."

"Let him stay. He should hear this as well," Vivian stated.

"You are not at liberty to choose what my son is exposed to."

"I'm pregnant."

Oh, nice.

I'm fainting.

Lightheadedly, I tried to find a seat before I fell or threw up or both. Harry grabbed my arm and led me to a chair.

"Whatever product of infidelity you're carrying has nothing to do with me. Best of luck finding that service worker, he seems to have left the country."

"Service worker?"

"The bell boy," Harry intervened.

"He was a little young, wasn't he?" My father said, snidely.

"He was," I glared at her.

She caught the scowl and seemed to understand that I spun a web of lies it'd be best not to unravel.

"Like it or not, Arthur, this baby is a Bailey. And I'm keeping it."

"Why on earth would you do something as foolish as that?" I asked.

"My body, my choice."

"You're taking being a gold digger to a dangerous extent, Viv." If that infant and I don't share a father, all three of us will be on the street. I don't get what her play is here.

"I'm not here for money. I'm here for my baby."

"You don't look pregnant," my dad said, skeptically.

"I'm almost 16 weeks. I'll be showing soon."

I'm definitely going to be sick.

"I have to...go..." I spoke with a shallow voice.

Harry put his hand on my shoulder, and when I looked at him, he nodded to ensure me that he will keep the lid on Vivian

"I want to speak to your doctor," my father demanded.

"Okay."

"Until then, get out of my house," he spat in contempt for her before going into his office, and slamming the door shut.

This is what you're fighting to have.

"Tell me one thing, Viv..." I said, quietly.

"What?"

"Whose is it?"

She looks down— a tell that she's not sure. "It's a Bailey."