Soul Searching

Buttoning her jeans, Anastacia flattens out her shirt and looks up when she hears the sounds of giggling. Walking around a set of a row of tall, free-standing, lockers, she pauses when she sees a small group of Varsity cheerleaders gathered around Marcia.

"How are your friends, Anastaica?"

Furrowing her eyebrows, the youngest Varsity cheerleader crosses her arms. "Excuse me?"

Marcia smirks, "the people that are 'in your house'," using air quotes.

Scoffing, Anastaica shakes her head.

One of the girls starts giggling and the rest chime in, leaving Anastacia to glare at them and shake her head.

"You are a piece of work, Marcia."

She stands up quickly, "I'm a piece of work?! I'm not the one that sees people who don't exist, Anastacia!"

The captain's footsteps are loud behind Anastacia.

Shaking her head, Anastacia picks up her bag.

"You are certifiably insane, Anastacia Wilks. Do you know what they do to people like you?" Marcia leans forward slightly, using her arms to block the row.

Turning around, Anastacia sees two of Marcia's friends blocking the other end. Another is standing next to Marcia when she turns around.

"They put people like you in homes. Your kind are a lot to take care of and most families don't have time. Your mother is the perfect example -- for some reason, she won't have you committed."

Anastacia shakes her head, "move out of my way, Marcia."

"You're crazy, Anastacia. How do you know that you're not hallucinating this right now?" Marcia begins to speak slowly. "You don't do you?"

Anastacia's eyes widen.

Marcia smiles, "you really don't. Wow."

Anastacia glares at Marcia, slowly shaking her head. "What do you want from me?"

"Quit the team, Stacie. I told you, I don't do crazy."

She shakes her head, “you can’t make me quit the team. I earned this spot.”

“I gave you this spot,” Marcia laughs. “Don’t get it twisted. I’m asking for that spot back now.”

“No,” Anastacia shakes her head. “I’m not giving it back.”



“What happened?”

Moira looks away from Anastacia’s face, toward the doorway of the kitchen.

“Go away!” The young blonde woman cries, not needing to move her head to recognize the voice.

Tate walks further into the kitchen.

Violet quickly enters the other entrance of the kitchen, with a redheaded woman on her heels. When she looks at the lanky blonde boy, on the other side of the island counter, Violet’s nostrils flare. “You should leave.”

He frowns, slowly crossing his arms. “Stacie.”

“Tate, please,” Moira says quietly, cradling Anastiacia’s head and holding an ice pack to the young woman’s face. “She’s not doing well.”

“Obviously!”

“Come back later,” Moira nods.

The redheaded woman that followed Violet into the kitchen quickly exchanges places with Moira.

Anastacia wheezes loudly, “who are you?”

Smiling, she gently holds the ice pack against Anastacia’s skin. “I’m Vivienne Harmon; Violet’s mom.”

“Here,” Violet hands a damp rag to her mother.

Vivienne exchanges the ice pack for the rag. “This shouldn’t sting at all.”

Anastacia clenches her eyes shut when the rag contacts her skin – she can feel her pores open at the contact. “Why are you helping me?”

“I saw enough hurt in my life,” the thin redhead nods slowly. “You shouldn’t hurt. You’re still pretty innocent – it’d be nice to keep it that way.”

Opening her eyes, Anastacia looks between Violet and Vivienne. “How can you be so sure that I’m innocent?”

“I just know,” Vivienne steps back, taking the white vinegar dampened rag with her. “When is your mom coming home, Anastacia?”

“Dr. Wilks should be home soon,” Moira chimes in.