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Just because you're allowed somewhere doesn't mean you belong.
Her outfit is cheap, slutty. No. Not slutty. The word skanky runs through her head - in Hermione's voice naturally, there to taunt her even in her mind - and she knows it’s more appropriate.
Her bag is on the floor with a change of clothes in it. Some torn jeans and a crop top. Her Doc Martens in an untied heap next to them. But she can’t summon up the energy to change. She could probably rip the gaudy fabric she’s in right off without trying and she wonders if that’s by design.
She feels dirty enough already. The least she can do is spare her dignity and undress properly.
On the back of the door hangs a leather jacket - her leather jacket. Tossed around her shoulder by her own father as he gave her a scratchy kiss on the forehead, followed by some half hearted cheers from the serpents. She hardly put on much of a show, but it was always a celebration when one of their own made it in. Keeping it in the family and all.
There’s no mirror in the small store room, just canisters of expired bar nuts and bottles of the cheap stuff, so she pulls a compact out of her bag. Her makeup is smudged and her eyes are red, but both of those things are superficial. She wants to count her blessings that she doesn’t have a black eye or split lip like the boys who went through the gauntlet. But at least the boys get to walk away with their heads held high. With pride in their scratches and bruises and blood.
She’s damaged after tonight too, but all of that is inside. No one will look at her emotional scars and say “That Alice Smith sure is a champ!” No. They’ll remember tonight and think she’s a tramp.
Champ, tramp. She ought to tell Fred to write a song about that one.
She rubs under her eyes some more and nearly pokes herself with a nail as the door bangs open. Exposed, she pulls her bag in front of her chest.
“What’re you hiding in here for?” Gladys asks, stepping into the room. “People are looking for you.”
Alice’s face screws up and she holds in her disgust. “People? What people?”
Gladys frowns as her eyes trace Alice’s body and stop when she meets her eyes. “What’s got your goat?”
Alice looks up so no more tears fall from her eyes. She hugs her bag against her chest knowing it does nothing to cover her legs.
“What was - that was the most disgusting, heinous thing I ever had to do.” She shakes her head, curls swinging in fury. “I don’t know how you and the other girls can sit there - sit there and watch that!” She takes a hand off the bag so she can wave a finger at Gladys’ face. “I will never let a girl go up there, watch and do nothing -”
“Calm down.” Gladys closes the door behind her and fills the small space between them. “I’m surprised. Big tough girl like you -”
“Don’t call me that!” She’s shaking with rage and she knows none of it is actually for Gladys but she’s right there in front of her and it’s easier this way. “God, I hate you.”
Gladys hands are on her shoulders, her expression softer. “Just finish crying. You’ll feel better.”
“I’m not crying!” But she feels the hot tears running down her face before the words even come out.
She chokes back a sob and drops her bag to the floor as Gladys arms wrap around her. She’s self conscious of the way her legs are exposed, of her cleavage on display, her bare skin touching Gladys’ clothes. Her father’s words echo in her ears, the same ones he’d been chanting to her since kindergarten. “Big girls don’t cry, Allie Cat.” He’d be ashamed if he saw this display for many reasons and she pushes them all out of her head.
“You never have to do that again if you don’t want to,” Gladys says somewhere into her hair. “And come next week no one will remember it anyway.”
Alice pushes her away and wipes the tears from her eyes. Gladys gives her a light shove until her butt is level with a stack of boxes. Alice sits on them.
“There’s nothing wrong with,” Gladys swishes some words around in her mouth, “getting into the entertainment industry. Some girls make plenty of money doing it and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Alice chokes down another sob. “I think my entertaining days are over, thanks.”
“However,” Gladys interrupts sharply, “there is something humiliating about being forced to take your clothes off and shake stuff for a bunch of grown men as a gang initiation.” Her eyes narrow and a look of distaste comes over her. “It’s sexist and it’s gross and, quite frankly, I would have rather gotten the shit kicked out of me than have done that. But what’s done is done. It’s a gross cycle and most don’t care enough to put an end to it when it might ruin their chances of getting in in the first place.” She puts a hand on Alice’s bare knee. “It sucks and it’s shitty but at least it’s over.”
The touch burns her. The tingle, the heat travel up her thighs right to her core and Alice covers up her gulp with another dry sob and nod.
“My dad -”
“Oh, fuck your dad.” Gladys’ words come out so nonchalant, that Alice can’t help but roll her eyes. She wonders if she does this after every new girl comes through. “He wanted you up there so bad he should be the one here dealing with you now. Fuck. Him.” She shakes her head, her two short pigtails swaying. “Fuck all of them. Fuck the serpents and fuck the guys who get off easy.” She scoffs. “Let us girls beat the shit out of them during the gauntlet and then maybe, maybe we’ll be square.”
“They always come back with their faces beat to shit.”
“Yeah, and if we join in the fun they won’t be walking straight for the rest of their lives either.” Gladys smirks. “Hell they’d be begging the boys after them to go do the serpent dance instead.”
Alice can’t help but smile. She wipes it away quickly, afraid once Gladys sees she’s not a mess anymore she’ll bounce. “Was it embarrassing for you?”
“Watching you dance?” Gladys laughs and squeezes her knee. “I’ve seen worse.”
“When you did the dance.” Alice squirms. “How long ago was it?”
“Few months ago. Maybe six or seven.” She tucks a strand of Alice’s hair behind her ears. “Of course it was embarrassing, but best to not let it show. You’re a serpent now and they can’t take that away from you at least.” She places her free hand on Alice’s other knee. “But you know what you should take pleasure in?”
Alice’s hips lean ever so slightly into Gladys’ touch and the other girl notices. Her hands slide up a few inches. The lingerie may be cheap and make her feel dirty, but just a little part of it makes her feel sexy, desirable. She doesn’t understand it or like it, but she can’t deny that someone’s palms on her bare thighs is exhilarating.
“What?” she finally breathes out.
“Tonight all these sleazebags are gonna go home and jerk off or pump pathetically into their sad wives and girlfriends,” she leans in now so their noses almost touch, “but all they’re going to be thinking about is you.”
She’s all too aware of Gladys’ breath on her. Of her own breasts shoved out because of the way she propped herself with her arms behind her back. With one quick movement, Alice lets her hands go to reach around Gladys’ neck and Gladys’ mouth falls against hers.
Alice pulls her closer, cupping her face so she doesn’t move away. Gladys’ hands stay south, one firmly spread against her thigh while the other slides between her legs, fingers dancing against the fabric of her cheap outfit. The outfit that caused her so much stress before.
When Gladys finally breaks the kiss and pulls herself away, Alice feels her heart sink. But it’s over in a flash because Gladys latches her lips to Alice’s neck. She lets her head roll back against the wall to give Gladys more space.
“So when you said everyone was going to go home and jerk off to me,” she said breathlessly, “you were including yourself?”
Gladys responds by sinking her teeth lightly into her flesh and Alice lets out a shriek of pleasure. She knows they'll be a mark there soon and she hopes her dad believes it's a boy that did the dirty work. The hand comes off Alice’s thigh and claps over her mouth.
“Jesus, Al,” Gladys whines but her mouth is already working its way down to Alice’s breasts. “You want your dad to find us or something?”
Her hand comes off of her mouth and slides to the clasps in the back. They pop open at Gladys’ light touch, although whether it’s her skill or the design of the flimsy fabric, Alice can’t be sure. Within a few seconds, Alice is pulling her arms out of the straps, too distracted by what’s going on down below to make easy work of it. Gladys pulls aside the fabric of her panties and slips two fingers in, awkwardly positioning her palm against Alice’s inner thigh.
Her head rolls back again and she holds a moan in the back of her throat. She’s somewhere between losing her mind and worrying about her panties ripping straight off when a rough knock comes from the door. All at once Gladys is off her, pulling her hands away and jumping to lean against the door.
She’s done this before.
“You in there still, Allie Cat?” her father’s gruff voice asks. Despite the nickname, she hears the short temper in his voice being tested.
The doorknob rattles and Gladys pushes herself against the door as Alice pulls the straps back up.
“Getting dressed!” she snaps. “Give me another minute.”
The doorknob stops and she hears his heavy boots take a step back. “Well you still gotta get your tattoo, girl, don’t get dressed all the way.”
His boots take off down the hall and Alice embarrassingly goes into her bag and pulls out her shirt. Gladys stands a foot away and Alice wishes the girl’s beat up Vans told more about her body language, but she doesn’t care to look up.
“Come stay over my place tonight,” Gladys finally says. Alice stands up straight and pulls the shirt over her lacy top. She feels more exposed with it on somehow. “My mom won’t mind.”
“Stay over? Like a sleepover?”
Gladys lays a hand on either of her hips and leans her back against the stack of boxes. Alice feels something stir in her again but she doesn’t turn away from the girl’s gaze.
“No, not like a sleepover.”
“Like what?”
She bites her lip. “Like you taste like Twinkies and I’m starving tonight.”
Alice scoffs and rolls her eyes. Her heart nearly bursts out of her chest. “You probably taste like whiskey sours.”
Gladys grabs her face, not unkindly. “You wanna find out, Twinkie?”
Something catches in her throat and she nods her head. “Yeah, but I - uhhh. I have to get my tattoo though.”
“Well good thing I am very skilled at aftercare.”
“I don’t even know -”
“Right here.” Gladys reads her mind and places her hand over her thigh again, the same touch that burned a few minutes ago. “It’d look really hot right here. Subtle, hidden. Very you.”
“Yeah.” Alice nods slowly. “That’s good. Where no one will see it.”
Gladys stops her from putting on her pants for the tattoo and leads her to the door, hand in hand.
“If my dad sees -” she starts but Gladys shakes her off.
“Don’t worry, he won’t see me.” She smirks as they leave the room. “I just want to take some pride in being the one who gets to bring you home when all the sleazebags in this place are left dreaming.”