Chapter Text
“My blouson dress will be perfect for it.”
That’s the first thing you hear as Caterina slides into the vacant seat opposite you; she wasn’t speaking to you, but to Sofia Sartor, who sits beside her with a giggle. Neither of them acknowledge your existence, leaving you to wonder why they had chosen to seat themselves at your table. There were still plenty of available seats scattered around the cafeteria...
“I would have liked to have worn something with a plunging neckline,” Sofia sighs with a brief eye roll, “but according to Lucrezia, Mr Starrick has implemented a strict new dress code."
Caterina mutters something in her native tongue which earns a slight nod from Sofia. You briefly consider moving to another table but stubbornness insists you stay put – you were there first, after all. Continuing to wolf down the cafeteria slop on your tray like a ravenous duck, you’re able to tune out the monotonous gossip of the girls opposite you. That is until Caterina finally decides that they’ve ignored you long enough and offers a smile which fails to reach her eyes.
“Ciao, (Y/N).”
“Ciao,” you repeat without thought. Hm. It doesn’t sound quite as exotic as it does when an Italian native says it.
The redhead rests her chin in the palm of one perfectly manicured hand, “You’re going, right?”
Confusion has your brows knitting together. Going? Go where? Did she mean were you leaving the table? You look to the other girl for some sort of guidance but she simply stares back, unblinking. Creepy. You have no choice but to voice your bewilderment.
“Go where, exactly?”
Her lips quirk at the corner. Had you said something funny?
“The Dance of Sweethearts. It’s this Saturday evening. Did you forget?” She takes a bite of one of those incredibly unsatisfying protein bars which, to be honest, taste like feet. “I suppose it’s understandable that you would forget.”
Something about the way she said that last comment felt oddly insulting.
Your eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that?”
She has the nerve to appear offended, as though you were insinuating something which wasn’t true. “Let’s not become paranoid; you’re new to this school, and we have so many events that it’s easy to get confused by its schedule.”
You’re under the impression that she’s lying but you aren’t about to say that to her face. Instead you offer an uncomfortable apology, lips pursing ever so slightly when she smiles like she’s won a mini victory.
“So,” she says after a moment, “are you going?”
Why did it matter to her so much? The two of you weren’t friends and probably never will be – Caterina doesn’t seem like the type of person someone could trust, and you weren’t about to fall into the trap.
You drag some food around your plate with a fork. “I don’t know.”
“But you must go,” Sofia speaks for the first time and it startles you a bit. “Everyone goes.”
With such a compelling argument, how could you not go? Note sarcasm.
“Now, now, Sofia, let’s not pressure (Y/N) into going.” She flashes a smile, full of false sincerity, and reaches across the table to grasp your forearm. “I understand your reluctance; I wouldn’t want to go to a romantic event without a date either.”
The corners of your lips tug down into a slight frown. “Why do you assume I don’t have a date?” Obviously you didn’t – you didn’t even remember the damn thing – but you hate when people make assumptions.
“Do you?”
“No...not yet.”
Her head tilts faintly and it’s annoyingly condescending.
You shoot back, “Do you have a date?”
It was a childish act which you mentally reprimand yourself for; whether Caterina had a date or not was of absolutely no concern or interest to you. She wanted to get under your skin – girls like her craved it.
You can’t keep giving her the satisfaction of knowing she was affecting you.
“A date? Singular?” She shares a laugh with Sofia. “Please. I have plenty of offers.”
“Offers? So nothing concrete yet.”
The arrogant smile on her face twists into a frown...and you’re not sure you like it.
A quick inspection with your Special Sight confirms your unspoken concerns: a blinding shade of red radiates from her body. Well, this sucks. You thought Lucrezia was the only enemy you had made here, but they seem to be slowly emerging from the woodwork.
Speaking of Lucrezia...
The platinum blonde She-Beast storms across the cafeteria, students parting for her like the Red Sea. The tray she was holding is slammed down atop the table and her can tips over, soda dribbling from the mouthpiece.
“How was your trip to the nurse’s office? Did you comfort Cesare in his time of need?”
Question marks flicker above your head, “What?”
“Non fare lo stupido. You didn’t come back to class; what did you and Cesare talk about? Did he make you feel important?”
The other students are beginning to stare and you cast a stunned glance in their direction before meeting Lucrezia’s furious gaze. She’s actually seething, the upper half of her body trembling, as though she were struggling to keep herself from lunging across the table and tackling you down – all this because you accompanied Cesare to the nurse’s office yesterday after she broke his nose.
Honestly, being a nice person truly wasn’t worth the hassle.
“I only stayed so I could make sure Cesare was feeling better.”
And staying with Cesare was the perfect excuse needed to ensure you didn’t have to return to gym.
“Bugiardo,” she snaps. “You’re in love with him.”
What an absurd accusation. Were we still living in a society where a man and woman couldn’t simply be friends? Why must kindness always be confused with love?
“I’m not in love with Cesare,” you sigh, already weary with this conversation. “Now can I finish my lunch in peace, please?”
“Bene. Let me help you.”
Without warning, Lucrezia lifts the bowl of salad from her tray and dumps it onto your head. It actually manages to catch you off guard, and you’re left sitting in stunned silence as dressing oozes into your eyes, a lone carrot slice gliding down your cheek.
You can’t see what happens next, but you can hear the words ‘food fight’ being bellowed before Lucrezia screams.
And then all Hell breaks loose.
Food goes flying in every direction and not a single person is safe.
You slide off the seat and seek refuge underneath the table, wondering why you bothered to get out of bed this morning.
»Fast Forward»
Elisé peels the final leaf of lettuce from your hair and drops it into the trash.
Aveline’s brow is quirked in amusement as her dark eyes dart from Evie, to you, and finally to Elisé. “I still can’t believe Lucrezia started a food fight in the middle of the cafeteria – especially with Mr Hastings on duty. That girl is crazier than I gave her credit for.”
Evie squirts some hand sanitiser into yours and Elisé’s palms with a slight scowl. “I still don’t think it was necessary for Mr Starrick to end the day early,”
“Are you serious?” Elisé cocks her head to one side. “This is as much a blessing to the teacher’s as it is to us; we now have a free afternoon to spend searching for something to wear for Saturday.”
Evie fixes one of her braids whilst looking less than impressed. “Why do you sound so excited when you say that? You hate wearing dresses as much as I do.”
“I’m not excited about the dresses – it’s the shoes.”
“Ah, yes. The shoes. This will be your two hundredth pair, right?”
“Well we can’t all be satisfied with just one pair like you, sweetie.”
Their lips pucker unhappily as they stare each other down. You regard them with unease for a moment before deciding to change the subject and hopefully douse the anger brewing between them.
“Uhm, Aveline, how come you didn’t get any food on you?”
“Oh, I was in the library at the time hanging up these.” Aveline smiles and grabs one of the posters from underneath her armpit and lets it unfurl. “I’m running for Class President this year; I truly believe that I can make a difference if I win.”
A low, impressed whistle escapes you as you admire the poster. “It’s a beautiful poster, Aveline. Who’s the opposition?”
You’re momentarily caught off guard when the trio answers in perfect unison, noses upturned in disgust as they utter the name, “Duccio de Luca.”
It was a bad idea, you knew, but still you found yourself asking, “Who is Duccio de Luca?”
“A misogynistic pig.”
“Scum of the Earth.”
“A limp dick.”
They each paint quite a colourful picture. For someone in possession of such a notorious reputation, you wonder why you hadn’t come across him yet. Not that you desired to do so, but this seemed to be one of those schools where everyone knew everyone.
“You’d do best to stay away from Duccio, kitten,” Elisé tells you. “You might catch something.”
Like an obedient pet, you nod without arguing. After all, these girls are your friends and you highly doubt they’d give you advice which wasn’t beneficial to you.
Aveline crosses her arms with a click of her tongue. “Claudia’s the one I feel sorry for; imagine finding out that your boyfriend was cheating on you.”
“And with six other girls, no less,” Evie adds with a solemn shake of her head. “Honestly, she could do so much better.”
“Isn’t she dating Altaïr now?”
“What? Since when?”
“Since last Tuesday. Haven’t you noticed? They go everywhere together.”
Altaïr was dating Claudia? Why did that information cause such an unpleasant stirring within your lower abdomen? It’s not as though you actually liked him – all of your encounters were rather irksome. And yet, for some peculiar reason, it felt as though you were lying. Was it because he was suddenly off the market and the possibility of becoming involved with him was no longer an option? Could you really be so childish?
Not wanting to dwell on the surprisingly depressing information that had been bestowed upon you, you allow your gaze to wander over the students enthusiastically leaving school for the day, though you nearly wind up choking on air when your eyes fall upon the trashcan nearby.
You watch, fascinated, at the bunch and strain of muscles underneath dark, coffee coloured skin as Connor removes his food-stained shirt, biceps flexing alarmingly as he shakes the fabric, any excess lumps of food falling into the trash.
Edward and Jacob flock to Connor’s side whilst laughing over their victory in the cafeteria; the pair of them appear to have been in the midst of the battle for they were coated, head-to-toe, in food – ketchup, mustard, pudding, salad, and spaghetti.
You feel your jaw hanging open but realise you lack the brain power to actually do anything about it. The only thing you can do is watch, helpless, as two more impressive torsos are put proudly on display – one kissed golden by the sun, the other pale and covered with a smattering of dark hair.
“You’re drooling.”
Elisé accuses after closing your mouth for you.
Why was she so serious?
“Oh, I...I didn’t mean-"
“There’s nothing wrong with a little window shopping,” Aveline interjects, saving you from having to explain yourself, her gaze lingering in Connor’s direction.
Elisé raises both hands as one typically does when they’ve given up and rolls her eyes skywards. “Whatever. Let’s just get going, yeah? We’ve finally got a free afternoon and I don’t want to waste it.”
~~Results~~
F ood Fight
Shay’s eyes narrow when he catches sight of Lucrezia raging through the cafeteria like a hurricane. The woman was clearly on a mission...and he didn’t like it. What made the situation worse was when Lucrezia came to a screeching halt at your table.
“She’s never off, is she?” Jacob comments when sliding into the empty seat beside Shay, the pair of them watching like hawks as Lucrezia blows her top once again.
Henry casts a sympathetic glance in your direction before refocusing on his lunch. “I can’t understand why she has such an abhorrence for (Y/N). The girl hasn’t done anything to her, has she?”
“She’s caught Cesare’s eye,” Evie practically huffs, fighting the urge to put Lucrezia in her place. “That’s good enough reason for her.”
Shay’s irritation is palpable and he shifts restlessly in his seat. “If she lays a hand on (Y/N),” he threatens beneath his breath, wishing to be closer so he could actually defend you if the need arose. Why did you decide to sit by yourself anyway? There was plenty of room available at their table. Ugh, he should have dragged you over here the moment you entered.
“You don’t think Lucrezia would go so far as to hit her, do you?” Henry blinks. “With Mr Hastings right by the entrance? That’s suicide.”
“As if authority means anything to Lucrezia. Whatever trouble she gets into, Daddy Borgia will be right there to make it all go away.”
Rodrigo Borgia, aka ‘The Spaniard’, aka the Mayor of Primrose Island.
Though truthfully, Rodrigo Borgia was more than just the mayor of the island – he WAS the island. He owned the stores, the hospitals, and the banks. And what little property he didn’t own was owned by those hand-chosen by himself – family and friends, mainly. Rodrigo Borgia had the island in the palm of his hand and no one dared question his rise to power, which seemingly happened overnight.
A bowl of salad is dumped on your head.
Without even realising, a small, plastic dish of chocolate pudding was leaving Shay’s hand and hurtling through the air. It collides with the back of Lucrezia’s head – a perfect shot!
Jacob is on his feet in an instant, hands cupped around his mouth as he screams, “Food fight!” He grins, swiping up a handful of mashed potatoes and launching them into Evie’s face with enough force that she falls backwards from her seat, expression one of pure shock. Henry is by her side within the blink of an eye, helping her up. The moment she’s on her feet, she forces Jacob’s face down into his own tray, tater tots squishing against his cheek.
In a matter of seconds, the words ‘food fight’ echo across the cafeteria. Chaos reigns through the inordinate room as spaghetti, pudding, salad, soda cans, and milk cartons soar in every direction. Slices of bread from disassembled sandwiches cut through the air like Frisbees.
Shaun charges through the cafeteria whilst waving both hands and shouting above the rambunctious laughter of students, trying – and failing – to get everyone to settle down. Splat! He takes a plate of macaroni and cheese to the face, the impact causing him to stumble backwards a step. He removes his glasses, russet eyes narrowing at the obvious culprit: Rebecca. She stands atop her table, tall and proud, pointing and laughing at Shaun’s expense.
By this time, the entire room has erupted into boisterous battle cries, hollow thumping of shoes bouncing atop tables, students chasing after one another, and the cafeteria staff cowering behind the counter.
Lucrezia wails as she’s caught in the midst of the onslaught – she was the main target, after all, and this was the perfect opportunity for her victims to extract revenge without being caught. Her heels slip and scramble against sauce smothered tiles. She blindly, desperately, clings to Caterina in order to keep herself standing, but she winds up sprawled across the floor on her back, dragging Caterina down with her.
Yusuf giggles like a mischievous child as he races around tables, armed with a bottle of ketchup and mustard, squirting all those unfortunate enough to cross his path.
Connor deflects a few meatballs with the use of his tray but Arno manages to sneak up behind him and dump a carton of yoghurt over his head. Arno’s celebration is cut short when an open carton of milk explodes against his cheek. Edward, being the one responsible, snorts a laugh and shoots his brother a thumbs up before continuing to chase after Vane.
Bartolomeo dashes into the cafeteria, eyes bulging at the sight. Swiftly, he grabs Bianca from around his neck and brings her to his lips. However, a pudding bomb detonates in his face before he can make a sound. The clogged whistle splutters like a fizzling firecracker. The gym teacher has no other choice but to seek cover behind the counter with the cafeteria staff, blessing himself with the sign of the cross.
Kadar, not wanting to get into too much trouble, splashes Malik with some water and awaits his reaction with bated breath. To his relief, Malik smirks and tosses a fistful of peas at him in retaliation. Altaïr barely acknowledges the chaotic atmosphere and continues to eat in peace, not a single drop of food coming near him.
Starrick soon enters the cafeteria after having been informed of the situation and surveys the room. The students remain oblivious to his presence and the food war wages on...until one student makes a most unfortunate mistake.
Shay’s eyes bulge from their sockets when yet another pudding dish leaves his hand. All he can do is watch, helpless, as the chocolatey treat sails through the air, narrowly avoiding every other student possible, and collides with the centre of Starrick’s forehead.
The room goes silent immediately.
Frozen in place, everyone is forced to gape as Starrick removes an embroidered silk handkerchief from one of his sleeves and cleans his face. Those ice blue eyes then flicker across each food covered face, dark brows pulling together to form the slightest of frowns.
“Who is responsible for this?” He asks without a trace of emotion – which makes the situation all the more terrifying.
Simultaneously, as though rehearsed well in advance, all index fingers are raised and directed towards Lucrezia.
Lucrezia goes to argue but any sort of rebuttal she had planned dies on her lips when Starrick fixes her with an impenetrable stare and beckons one gloved finger at her. She has no choice but shuffle closer, glaring at everyone else as she did so.
“School is dismissed for the day,” Starrick says and casts a glance around the room, waiting for someone to voice their delight – they wouldn’t dare. “Get this room cleaned immediately. Miss Borgia, my office. Now. You too, Mr Cormac; don’t think I didn’t see you toss that pudding.”
Shay’s hands ball into fists by his sides but he remains silent as he follows Starrick. His eyes dart to you emerging from your hiding place and he smiles softly.
Whatever punishment he received would be worth it.
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I had quite a bit of fun writing this chapter, and I hope you had fun reading it ^^ So, with the 'Results', in the future they'll be centred around your love interest (or LI). But at other times - like now -, the results will be centred on different point of views, just so you can get an idea on what the other characters are feeling or doing~