[fic] Hated chapter 2/2 [bad friends trio with fem!France, ensemble]
Title: Hated chapter 2/2
Author: etre_sans_age
Rating: R
Characters: Prussia, Spain, fem!France, America, England, Seychelles, Monaco, Ancient Rome, Russia, Belarus, Austria, Hungary, Denmark, ensemble; main pairings include Prussia/France/Spain, France/America, France/England, past France/Vietnam, past Rome/France, America/Russia, Hungary/Austria, Belarus --> Russia
Warnings: gakuen AU, sexual situations, adultery, school bullying
Wordcount: 4,129/8,225
Summary: for the prompt - Fem!France is the resident slut at school. One day, a group of students (or just one) insult her and call her ‘worthless whore’, in front of the whole school, and give her a verbal lashing that hurts her deeply. The other two (not genderbent) members of the Bad Touch Trio are out for blood and revenge, since no one insults their precious friend.
[I spent a lot of time on this fic, and even though parts of it hurt to write, I was happy to have finished it. Thanks again for reading.]
( chapter 1)
Gilbert and Antonio are a little more stubborn, and not even the black eye Antonio received from Lovino after school could deter him.
“At this rate, you and Kirkland are going to receive your diploma while in the hospital,” Antonio tells her as he nurses his bruise with a bag of ice, completely oblivious to the absurdity of his statement. “Haven’t you had enough?”
“I can take him,” Marianne insists. “I used to beat him up all the time when we were kids, remember? You were there.”
That was true, the other two concede, but Arthur Kirkland had been a scrawny runt when they were seven, and she had long grown out of her tomboy phase. About the only pain Marianne tolerated nowadays would be related to what she referred to as the “little death;” she went into hysterics when she broke a nail last week.
“Well, if you ever need any help beating him up, let us know. I’ve been itching to drop-kick him into next Tuesday myself.” They knew why. Arthur had caught the three of the smoking cigarettes on the rooftop once, and Gilbert had never forgiven him for telling on them and ruining their spring break plans with three days of community service.
“I am sure it won’t come to that, Gil, but thank you.” She gives them both a kiss on the cheek in appreciation, and their study session becomes a very welcome impromptu make-out session.
There is a knock on Gilbert’s bedroom door, and the three friends look up when Ludwig announces that dinner is ready. Antonio waves at him cheerily, Gilbert grumbles and removes his hands from under Marianne’s shirt, and Marianne simply blows a kiss in Ludwig’s direction, making him flush even redder.
“Your brother is so cute, Gil,” she whispers after he leaves. “We should ask him if he wants to join us sometime.”
“No.”
“Fine, I will ask if I can join him and Feli sometime.”
Gilbert elbows her in her side, and she bursts out into giggles, trying to tell him that she was just kidding as he play-wrestles her to the ground.
Ivan Braginski had replied to her message last night, and for lunch Marianne meets him in the courtyard, having brought pastries from the neighborhood European-style bakery to share. It’s too bad they no longer have time to play chess during lunch hour anymore, she had always enjoyed distracting him from checking her with a hand placed on his knee during a strategic move, or rubbing her ankle against his calf while he contemplates what to do next. Today, just because she loves seeing him blush, Marianne unbuttons her blouse as low as it will go while still clothing her, letting the décolletage of her bra peek through. They nibble at the pastries, and she listens patiently as he outlines plans for the chess club he wants to start.
“Do you think anyone will join?” Ivan asks her worriedly, and she leans forward and pats him on the hand comfortingly.
“You already have approval from the student council and the headmaster, I would not worry about it, Ivan. Just be patient, and students will join.”
“Join what?” Alfred interrupts, sliding into the empty chair at their little table.
Ivan glares at him with the coldness of a Siberian winter, but Alfred is too busy ogling Marianne’s bosom to really notice.
“Ivan is starting a chess club,” Marianne explains.
Alfred frowns and turns to face Ivan, a hint of belligerence in his eyes. “Chess? That’s so lame, no one’s gonna want to join your stupid club, Ivan.”
“I can see how chess might seem lame to someone who never remembers the rules,” Ivan counters. “But Marianne says my club will be successful and everyone will want to join.”
That wasn’t exactly what she said, but Alfred takes this declaration as a challenge to his popularity.
“I guess if everyone includes ‘just the Asians,’ then sure. But the cool kids will still be hanging out with me, I can guarantee that.”
The two of them are staring at each other so intently, practically crowding her out, and Marianne lays a hand soothingly on their shoulders, attempting to keep them from jumping at each other’s throats. “Now, boys, please. Ivan does need someone to help him set up the club as vice-president, and I think you could be the perfect one for the job, Alfred.”
Ivan raises an eyebrow at her, and Alfred pouts.
“I’m too busy to be part of another club, especially one that’s his idea.”
“And I doubt his help is anything I would ever need.”
“Perhaps so,” she admits, shrugging, and their gazes focus on her bosom, the shift of her breasts under the rather thin coverage of her tight uniform blouse. “But after Gil and Toni and I graduate, the ag sci club will most likely decline in membership. I don’t know, that could be the perfect chance for a new club to take its place. Surely you two can work together just for a few months before it takes off, hmm?”
Ivan and Alfred nod grudgingly, although they are not meeting each other’s eyes now that they have something a little bit more attractive to stare at.
“Yeah, you’ve got something there, Marianne…” Alfred says absent-mindedly and Ivan mumbles a quiet “I agree…”
“Perfect! I’ll list Alfred as co-founder of the chess club, and once Arthur approves it, you are ready to start! I can not wait to see how it goes.”
They watch her leave, fixated by the hypnotic sway of her hips under the short pleated skirt, and after a minute, remember to close their mouths. Then they look at each other, hot and flushed and getting exceedingly uncomfortable. Ivan makes a little motioning gesture over his shoulder, and Alfred quickly gets up and follows him to the greenhouse.
As expected, Marianne finds Natalya waiting for her, for no one gets close to Ivan without his little sister knowing.
“Put the knife down, Natalya,” Marianne says. “I promise, I will have nothing further to do with Ivan. It would be best if you keep your eye on Alfred instead.”
“Brother needs Alfred. I understand that, even if I do not like it,” Natalya hisses, pressing the point of her switchblade against Marianne’s collarbone. “But Brother has never needed you. You make him stink of your corruption.”
“I shower every day,” Marianne replies, edging away from the knife.
Natalya sheathes the blade, spitting at her feet. “You will get what you deserve, Marianne, and I will be laughing when you eat your cake.”
That was probably not what she meant to say, but Marianne remains unruffled, daring to place her hand under the other girl’s pointed chin, meeting her lovely violet-blue eyes. “Natalya, you are beautiful, but he will never look at you if you insist on stalking him like this. It would be my pleasure to show you how to best… present yourself…”
“Forget it. As long as you are here, everyone will always look at you.” Natalya knocks her hand away and turns to leave, muttering under her breath.
Marianne sighs. She tries her best to help those in need, but it is not her fault if her affections go unrequited.
After school, she discovers that someone has dumped the contents of a trashcan all over her car, and as she leans over to clear a cup of melted slushee from her windshield, someone flips her skirt. Marianne whirls around indignantly and glares at the group of freshmen snickering at her.
“My bad, chica,” the boy closest to her says, grinning widely. “The gang here just wanted to see what color your panties were today.”
At his side, his girlfriend remarks archly, “Purple, Marianne? And we had been betting on black again!”
She does not deign to reply to that, instead asking, “Did any of you see who trashed my car?”
They laugh and shake their heads no, dispersing once they see their cousin arrive.
“Have they been giving you trouble, Marianne?” Antonio asks, after yelling at his fleeing relatives in a stream of furious Spanish. “You just let me know, I’ll take care of it.”
“No, not any more than they give you trouble.”
“Man… someone really hates you…” he observes, glancing at the odorous mess.
“It seems that way, yes.”
They manage to get the worst of the garbage off her car, enough so that she would not get a ticket, and Marianne drives home by herself. Antonio watches her leave and then dials Gilbert’s number.
It was too much to hope that Thursday will be any better. She wasn’t able to get much rest last night, and no amount of concealer hides the bags under her red eyes. So when Elizaveta confronts her after second period, accusing her of tainting Roderich Edelstein with her lecheries, Marianne can not summon up the energy to act affronted.
“Really, Lizzy? You never wondered why he wears cravats every day?”
Elizaveta slams her back against the lockers. “I trusted you, Marianne.”
“How sweet, you truly thought Roderich would be faithful to you if you just wished enough.”
“You insufferable bitch!” Elizaveta shrieks. “You could have any guy you wanted, why did you have to choose my boyfriend?!”
“Don’t delude yourself. It takes two to cheat on someone, Lizzy, and he’s been cheating on you for a long time.” Marianne laughs to see the tears welling in her eyes, and she doesn’t even wince when Elizaveta slaps her hard across the face.
“Oh, my! You ought to try that with Roderich, he loves it when I am rough with him.”
The fight is spectacularly brutal, complete with hair pulling and clothes ripping, arguably the best cat-fight in recent memory if one were to survey the male constituents of the school, and it takes the combined efforts of Ludwig and Berwald to finally separate the two girls. Unbeknownst to them all, Roderich’s latest moment of indiscretion with Marianne had occurred almost a year ago, they did not even get past second base, and the object of the hottest catfight of the year had actually sequestered himself from everyone, including his girlfriend, these past months in order to focus on his auditions to a prestigious college of music.
“Wow, how did you get out of a visit to the headmaster’s office?” Gilbert later asks her, once they had made it back to Antonio’s place to chill.
“Well, Arthur interceded on my behalf, as I did not start the fight.” But in exchange for that, he demanded to see her in private before the next student council meeting, and she had to accede.
“Are you really okay, Marianne?” Antonio says, putting his arm around her shoulders carefully. “I just don’t think you should keep doing this…”
“I know, I know. And I hate making you two worry, that is cruel of me.” The sad part is that she has not even told them everything she has done, and she wonders bitterly if that would change their opinion of her any. “I am so sorry, can you ever forgive me?”
“You don’t have to be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Well, technically, you might have, but yeah, it definitely wasn’t all your fault.”
“Thanks for the support, Gilbert,” she says drily.
“No problem.” He yawns and stretches and drapes his arm over her shoulder as well, and smiling, Marianne sits back and basks in their warmth.
“Thank you,” she says again.
The atmosphere is somewhat tense on Friday, and no one is more eager than Marianne for the weekend, for shopping at the mall, meeting up with her cousin Matthew, and just hanging out with Gilbert and Antonio.
But there is a gauntlet to endure before the final bell, an implacable sea of ugly, jealous faces staring her down, waiting for her next mistake.
Marianne notices Linh looking at her with something close to pity in her eyes from where she is standing with the Yang and Kiku and the rest. How pathetic. When she wanted pity, she could not get it, and now that she would rather do without anyone’s sympathy, she received it. But she is able to keep her emotions in check as she makes her way to class.
While the teacher drones on and on about deriving a function, Marianne could hear snickers all around her from students sitting with their shoulders hunched, obviously reading some hilarious texts instead of paying attention. She watches dully as someone in front of her glances down at their lap and then looks over their shoulder at her before replying to the text. Miserable and restless, Marianne mentally lists the names of the girls who are most likely leading the attack against her, the way scratching at a scab makes one feel better. Simone is too new, Monica still her lackey. Linh no longer had any feelings towards her, bad or good, as with Mei, and Laurie would not do anything without someone goading her to it. Katya, poor girl, the same. Natalya hated her enough, that’s true, but she was not one for planning intrigue. Lizzy could be violent, but she is much too sweet under that rough exterior to do something like this.
She muses on the question throughout the lesson, but does not find a satisfactory answer. They all have reasons to resent her, and she can only imagine that they hated her enough to band together.
Surprisingly, no one harasses her the rest of the school day, and Marianne breathes a sigh of relief as she heads toward her locker to clear it out for the weekend. She tries the handle a few times, but it would not loosen, and she has to tug at it with all her strength before the door opens and spills its contents all over the floor. Her ears burn red as she realizes that is a pile of condoms at her feet, being joined by a few more packages falling out from her locker shelf, and a few students who are on their way out laugh at her expense.
“Very funny,” she grumbles, almost flattered that someone went through the trouble of sticking so many of them through the opening of the locker door, it must have cost them a bit of money. Now there is nothing left to do but scoop the condoms up and throw them away before any of the teachers notice.
Someone picks up a condom as she reaches for it, and she looks up to see Bertram grinning at her.
“Damn, but I guess you really need that many condoms.” He sticks one into her cleavage, strawberry-flavored. “Well, save that for me.”
“No thanks,” she tells him flatly, taking it out and tossing it with the rest of the condoms into the garbage.
“Funny, hearing you say no for once,” he mutters, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him roughly. “I get it, you want to go bareback instead.”
“Definitely not. I do have standards.”
“Somehow I really doubt that,” Bertram says with a leer. “C’mon, babe, I can show you a good time.”
Gilbert and Antonio are on either side of him in an instant, and he lets go of Marianne, still looking smug.
“Hey, I wasn’t doing anything, nothing that she wouldn’t eventually want.”
“Leave her alone, punk,” Gilbert snarls.
“She said no, okay?”
“That’s not what I heard, if you know what I mean.”
“…What?”
The four of them stare at each other, and finally Bertram bursts out laughing.
“Oh my God, you don’t know!” he gasps between snorts of laughter. “Haven’t you ever googled yourself, Marianne?”
“What, why would I do that?”
Gilbert, who has added “google: Gilbert Beilschmidt” and “wiki: Prussia” to his favorites, pulls out his phone and types Marianne’s name into the browser search bar. Antonio glances over his friend’s shoulder as the results pull up, green eyes widening in shock.
“What is it?” Marianne demands. “What are people googling about me?”
“Nothing! It’s nothing!” Gilbert says frantically, holding his phone out of her reach.
“Then why aren’t you letting me see? You know I’ll find out eventually!”
“That’s right, she will,” Bertram remarks, and he glances at Marianne almost apologetically. “Marianne, I swear I have nothing to do with this, but… there’s this webpage all about you, it’s the first thing anyone will see when they search for your name. It’s got pictures of you, videos, too, the chat box is updated every day. The link has probably been shared with everyone in school by now…”
Antonio hands her the phone in silence, and she stares at the screen, at the incriminating images, the video of her stripping, and worse. She doesn’t know how anyone could have gotten those images, she never recalled being photographed or recorded, and her mind goes blank even thinking about who would have the dedication to humiliate her so utterly.
There are no names, not even screen names, just her full name. Someone writes “like mother, like daughter,” and someone else asks if she would stoop so low as to fuck a dog. Just as Bertram had mentioned, the consensus is that she is always ready, never unwilling, and best of all, didn’t even need to be paid.
All over the site, the anonymous label her: “dumb slut,” “worthless whore,” “disgusting tramp.”
Marianne hands Gilbert his phone, and manages to say in a shaky voice, “It is nothing anyone hasn’t seen before.” Then she hurries off before they can see her cry, not stopping until she reaches her car.
Her mother knocks on her door when she does not come down for dinner, which she always does when her parents get their act together and cook.
“Marianne, dear, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Mama.” Her voice is like the croaking of a frog, she has been crying so hard.
“If that is what you want. But will you try to eat something, for me?”
“Leave me alone, please.”
“Marianne…” Her mother sighs and leaves the tray of food on the ground, eyes welling up with tears for her child. “We love you.”
Once or twice, someone dares to ask Gilbert and Antonio where Marianne is, why she hasn’t been to school for nearly a week, but they get no answer, only menacing silence. Alfred even stops by her house, but his considerable charms are not enough to persuade her father to let him in to see her. No one can find out what happened to her, and the gossip on the webpage slows down now that the target has been eliminated.
At the student council meeting, Arthur finds himself unable to function without Marianne’s unique brand of assistance. Simone and Alfred do their best to fill in for her, but they don’t know what he wants like she does, and he snaps at them more than they probably deserve. Everyone in the room looks extremely relieved when Arthur dismisses them early, and he leaves in a hurry to find Gilbert and Antonio.
“Whadya want, Kirkland?” Gilbert growls once Arthur catches up to them.
“Where is Bonnefoy, you two?”
“She’s at home.”
“Do you know when she is coming back?”
“No.”
Antonio gives Arthur a pitying look. “She’ll come back when the doctor says she can.”
“Why, what’s wrong with her?”
The other two watch him as Gilbert says slowly, “I don’t know, but she went with her parents to the clinic on 6th street, and that’s what her mom told me when they came back.”
There is only one clinic on 6th street and Arthur knows it. He attempts to cover his astonishment with a supercilious sniff. “Well, I imagine she would need such services eventually. Whatever it takes for a slut like her to learn.”
The steely gleam in Antonio’s eyes is frightening. “You know something, Arthur.”
“Of course you do,” Gilbert mutters, advancing upon Arthur with a fiendish grin. “You’re the one who has known Marianne the longest. You’re the one with the most power in the school besides Vargas himself, and even he doesn’t give a crap about anything until you bring it up.”
“You have always hated her, and all this time, you were keeping an eye on her to make sure she will never gain anyone else’s sympathy.”
“Weren’t you two applying for the same university, Kirkland? Yeah, I think so. Well, I guess you’re thrilled now that you don’t have to worry about her taking your spot.”
“Like I said, Marianne brought it on herself,” Arthur replies coldly. “She chose to live immorally, and these were the natural consequences of her choices. Just because I know her and hate her…” Arthur doesn’t want to talk about Marianne anymore, knowing he was involved with her on and off throughout the years, guilty by association, but he can’t help himself, can’t stop talking. “You can’t prove anything, anyway.”
“You’re right, we don’t have proof, nor would we need any, when we know how much you hate her. But maybe next time you ought to make sure whoever made the website spells words the proper way, because it is sure as hell makes you look guilty.”
They walk off, but stop once Arthur starts laughing.
“Why the fuck do you even stand up for her?” he demands. “She has never done anything for anyone else that wouldn’t benefit her somehow. She only got onto the student council because she was screwing Vargas, she didn’t get a single vote, not one. I don’t think I have seen the school more united than when that site went up, because trust me, no one can stand her for longer than it takes to fuck her. How do you two not see that, how are you so blind?”
Arthur is practically screaming by now, and when they tackle him, he is more than ready. Out of the three, he fights dirtiest, but they are ripping into him with the rage of animals. He pushes back with all the bitterness in his heart, punching and kicking and clawing, because he realizes now, too late, that she is bringing him down with her, and he has nothing left to lose.
By the time the headmaster could separate them, since no other student dared to interfere, they are bleeding and bruised, Arthur’s nose crooked and dripping blood, one of Gilbert’s teeth loose in its socket, Antonio sporting another black eye to match his healing one. Vargas tuts at them affectionately, letting them know he will be notifying their parents of their behavior, and if they cause any more trouble on campus, they can say farewell to their diplomas.
“It’s not over.”
“No truer words have been said.”
Once they clean up and change into less bloody clothes, Gilbert and Antonio head for Marianne’s house. Her father lets them in after they explain, but it takes a little more convincing to get Marianne to open her bedroom door. She does eventually and looks startled to see her friends injured so, and invites them to stay a while.
“We all look pretty awful, don’t we?” she says, voice hoarse and quiet. She is thin and worn and pale, her skin nearly translucent, eyes still bloodshot from crying. “I have been sick, Gil, Toni. I could not even eat.”
They know.
“The doctor says I will get better soon. I hope so, I am tired of looking ugly.”
“You’re not ugly, Marianne,” Antonio assures her. “You never were.”
“Of course not,” she murmurs, smiling weakly. “Thank you, for fighting for me. I will fight for you next time. All for one and one for all, isn’t that what we promised?”
They are too tired to do much else, and so they curl up together in bed, promptly falling asleep in each other’s arms. Marianne’s mother comes in to cover them with a blanket, kissing all three on their foreheads. When they wake up an hour later, they are starving, and Marianne’s father finally gets the big family dinner he had been wanting. Marianne still complains of her stomach hurting, but now it is from laughing too much, and she will be content with that.
As Gilbert and Antonio are about to leave, she asks if they had hurt Arthur too much.
“No, just enough, Marianne,” Gilbert replies, trying to not grin and split his lip again. Those two are still friends, after all, if in a very vague sense of the word.
“How gracious of you to spare him. I shall beat him up some more… after graduation photos.”
With that, they wish her good night, and kiss her until Antonio’s mother calls to remind him of his curfew, and they kiss her some more just to make sure.
Author: etre_sans_age
Rating: R
Characters: Prussia, Spain, fem!France, America, England, Seychelles, Monaco, Ancient Rome, Russia, Belarus, Austria, Hungary, Denmark, ensemble; main pairings include Prussia/France/Spain, France/America, France/England, past France/Vietnam, past Rome/France, America/Russia, Hungary/Austria, Belarus --> Russia
Warnings: gakuen AU, sexual situations, adultery, school bullying
Wordcount: 4,129/8,225
Summary: for the prompt - Fem!France is the resident slut at school. One day, a group of students (or just one) insult her and call her ‘worthless whore’, in front of the whole school, and give her a verbal lashing that hurts her deeply. The other two (not genderbent) members of the Bad Touch Trio are out for blood and revenge, since no one insults their precious friend.
[I spent a lot of time on this fic, and even though parts of it hurt to write, I was happy to have finished it. Thanks again for reading.]
( chapter 1)
Gilbert and Antonio are a little more stubborn, and not even the black eye Antonio received from Lovino after school could deter him.
“At this rate, you and Kirkland are going to receive your diploma while in the hospital,” Antonio tells her as he nurses his bruise with a bag of ice, completely oblivious to the absurdity of his statement. “Haven’t you had enough?”
“I can take him,” Marianne insists. “I used to beat him up all the time when we were kids, remember? You were there.”
That was true, the other two concede, but Arthur Kirkland had been a scrawny runt when they were seven, and she had long grown out of her tomboy phase. About the only pain Marianne tolerated nowadays would be related to what she referred to as the “little death;” she went into hysterics when she broke a nail last week.
“Well, if you ever need any help beating him up, let us know. I’ve been itching to drop-kick him into next Tuesday myself.” They knew why. Arthur had caught the three of the smoking cigarettes on the rooftop once, and Gilbert had never forgiven him for telling on them and ruining their spring break plans with three days of community service.
“I am sure it won’t come to that, Gil, but thank you.” She gives them both a kiss on the cheek in appreciation, and their study session becomes a very welcome impromptu make-out session.
There is a knock on Gilbert’s bedroom door, and the three friends look up when Ludwig announces that dinner is ready. Antonio waves at him cheerily, Gilbert grumbles and removes his hands from under Marianne’s shirt, and Marianne simply blows a kiss in Ludwig’s direction, making him flush even redder.
“Your brother is so cute, Gil,” she whispers after he leaves. “We should ask him if he wants to join us sometime.”
“No.”
“Fine, I will ask if I can join him and Feli sometime.”
Gilbert elbows her in her side, and she bursts out into giggles, trying to tell him that she was just kidding as he play-wrestles her to the ground.
Ivan Braginski had replied to her message last night, and for lunch Marianne meets him in the courtyard, having brought pastries from the neighborhood European-style bakery to share. It’s too bad they no longer have time to play chess during lunch hour anymore, she had always enjoyed distracting him from checking her with a hand placed on his knee during a strategic move, or rubbing her ankle against his calf while he contemplates what to do next. Today, just because she loves seeing him blush, Marianne unbuttons her blouse as low as it will go while still clothing her, letting the décolletage of her bra peek through. They nibble at the pastries, and she listens patiently as he outlines plans for the chess club he wants to start.
“Do you think anyone will join?” Ivan asks her worriedly, and she leans forward and pats him on the hand comfortingly.
“You already have approval from the student council and the headmaster, I would not worry about it, Ivan. Just be patient, and students will join.”
“Join what?” Alfred interrupts, sliding into the empty chair at their little table.
Ivan glares at him with the coldness of a Siberian winter, but Alfred is too busy ogling Marianne’s bosom to really notice.
“Ivan is starting a chess club,” Marianne explains.
Alfred frowns and turns to face Ivan, a hint of belligerence in his eyes. “Chess? That’s so lame, no one’s gonna want to join your stupid club, Ivan.”
“I can see how chess might seem lame to someone who never remembers the rules,” Ivan counters. “But Marianne says my club will be successful and everyone will want to join.”
That wasn’t exactly what she said, but Alfred takes this declaration as a challenge to his popularity.
“I guess if everyone includes ‘just the Asians,’ then sure. But the cool kids will still be hanging out with me, I can guarantee that.”
The two of them are staring at each other so intently, practically crowding her out, and Marianne lays a hand soothingly on their shoulders, attempting to keep them from jumping at each other’s throats. “Now, boys, please. Ivan does need someone to help him set up the club as vice-president, and I think you could be the perfect one for the job, Alfred.”
Ivan raises an eyebrow at her, and Alfred pouts.
“I’m too busy to be part of another club, especially one that’s his idea.”
“And I doubt his help is anything I would ever need.”
“Perhaps so,” she admits, shrugging, and their gazes focus on her bosom, the shift of her breasts under the rather thin coverage of her tight uniform blouse. “But after Gil and Toni and I graduate, the ag sci club will most likely decline in membership. I don’t know, that could be the perfect chance for a new club to take its place. Surely you two can work together just for a few months before it takes off, hmm?”
Ivan and Alfred nod grudgingly, although they are not meeting each other’s eyes now that they have something a little bit more attractive to stare at.
“Yeah, you’ve got something there, Marianne…” Alfred says absent-mindedly and Ivan mumbles a quiet “I agree…”
“Perfect! I’ll list Alfred as co-founder of the chess club, and once Arthur approves it, you are ready to start! I can not wait to see how it goes.”
They watch her leave, fixated by the hypnotic sway of her hips under the short pleated skirt, and after a minute, remember to close their mouths. Then they look at each other, hot and flushed and getting exceedingly uncomfortable. Ivan makes a little motioning gesture over his shoulder, and Alfred quickly gets up and follows him to the greenhouse.
As expected, Marianne finds Natalya waiting for her, for no one gets close to Ivan without his little sister knowing.
“Put the knife down, Natalya,” Marianne says. “I promise, I will have nothing further to do with Ivan. It would be best if you keep your eye on Alfred instead.”
“Brother needs Alfred. I understand that, even if I do not like it,” Natalya hisses, pressing the point of her switchblade against Marianne’s collarbone. “But Brother has never needed you. You make him stink of your corruption.”
“I shower every day,” Marianne replies, edging away from the knife.
Natalya sheathes the blade, spitting at her feet. “You will get what you deserve, Marianne, and I will be laughing when you eat your cake.”
That was probably not what she meant to say, but Marianne remains unruffled, daring to place her hand under the other girl’s pointed chin, meeting her lovely violet-blue eyes. “Natalya, you are beautiful, but he will never look at you if you insist on stalking him like this. It would be my pleasure to show you how to best… present yourself…”
“Forget it. As long as you are here, everyone will always look at you.” Natalya knocks her hand away and turns to leave, muttering under her breath.
Marianne sighs. She tries her best to help those in need, but it is not her fault if her affections go unrequited.
After school, she discovers that someone has dumped the contents of a trashcan all over her car, and as she leans over to clear a cup of melted slushee from her windshield, someone flips her skirt. Marianne whirls around indignantly and glares at the group of freshmen snickering at her.
“My bad, chica,” the boy closest to her says, grinning widely. “The gang here just wanted to see what color your panties were today.”
At his side, his girlfriend remarks archly, “Purple, Marianne? And we had been betting on black again!”
She does not deign to reply to that, instead asking, “Did any of you see who trashed my car?”
They laugh and shake their heads no, dispersing once they see their cousin arrive.
“Have they been giving you trouble, Marianne?” Antonio asks, after yelling at his fleeing relatives in a stream of furious Spanish. “You just let me know, I’ll take care of it.”
“No, not any more than they give you trouble.”
“Man… someone really hates you…” he observes, glancing at the odorous mess.
“It seems that way, yes.”
They manage to get the worst of the garbage off her car, enough so that she would not get a ticket, and Marianne drives home by herself. Antonio watches her leave and then dials Gilbert’s number.
It was too much to hope that Thursday will be any better. She wasn’t able to get much rest last night, and no amount of concealer hides the bags under her red eyes. So when Elizaveta confronts her after second period, accusing her of tainting Roderich Edelstein with her lecheries, Marianne can not summon up the energy to act affronted.
“Really, Lizzy? You never wondered why he wears cravats every day?”
Elizaveta slams her back against the lockers. “I trusted you, Marianne.”
“How sweet, you truly thought Roderich would be faithful to you if you just wished enough.”
“You insufferable bitch!” Elizaveta shrieks. “You could have any guy you wanted, why did you have to choose my boyfriend?!”
“Don’t delude yourself. It takes two to cheat on someone, Lizzy, and he’s been cheating on you for a long time.” Marianne laughs to see the tears welling in her eyes, and she doesn’t even wince when Elizaveta slaps her hard across the face.
“Oh, my! You ought to try that with Roderich, he loves it when I am rough with him.”
The fight is spectacularly brutal, complete with hair pulling and clothes ripping, arguably the best cat-fight in recent memory if one were to survey the male constituents of the school, and it takes the combined efforts of Ludwig and Berwald to finally separate the two girls. Unbeknownst to them all, Roderich’s latest moment of indiscretion with Marianne had occurred almost a year ago, they did not even get past second base, and the object of the hottest catfight of the year had actually sequestered himself from everyone, including his girlfriend, these past months in order to focus on his auditions to a prestigious college of music.
“Wow, how did you get out of a visit to the headmaster’s office?” Gilbert later asks her, once they had made it back to Antonio’s place to chill.
“Well, Arthur interceded on my behalf, as I did not start the fight.” But in exchange for that, he demanded to see her in private before the next student council meeting, and she had to accede.
“Are you really okay, Marianne?” Antonio says, putting his arm around her shoulders carefully. “I just don’t think you should keep doing this…”
“I know, I know. And I hate making you two worry, that is cruel of me.” The sad part is that she has not even told them everything she has done, and she wonders bitterly if that would change their opinion of her any. “I am so sorry, can you ever forgive me?”
“You don’t have to be sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Well, technically, you might have, but yeah, it definitely wasn’t all your fault.”
“Thanks for the support, Gilbert,” she says drily.
“No problem.” He yawns and stretches and drapes his arm over her shoulder as well, and smiling, Marianne sits back and basks in their warmth.
“Thank you,” she says again.
The atmosphere is somewhat tense on Friday, and no one is more eager than Marianne for the weekend, for shopping at the mall, meeting up with her cousin Matthew, and just hanging out with Gilbert and Antonio.
But there is a gauntlet to endure before the final bell, an implacable sea of ugly, jealous faces staring her down, waiting for her next mistake.
Marianne notices Linh looking at her with something close to pity in her eyes from where she is standing with the Yang and Kiku and the rest. How pathetic. When she wanted pity, she could not get it, and now that she would rather do without anyone’s sympathy, she received it. But she is able to keep her emotions in check as she makes her way to class.
While the teacher drones on and on about deriving a function, Marianne could hear snickers all around her from students sitting with their shoulders hunched, obviously reading some hilarious texts instead of paying attention. She watches dully as someone in front of her glances down at their lap and then looks over their shoulder at her before replying to the text. Miserable and restless, Marianne mentally lists the names of the girls who are most likely leading the attack against her, the way scratching at a scab makes one feel better. Simone is too new, Monica still her lackey. Linh no longer had any feelings towards her, bad or good, as with Mei, and Laurie would not do anything without someone goading her to it. Katya, poor girl, the same. Natalya hated her enough, that’s true, but she was not one for planning intrigue. Lizzy could be violent, but she is much too sweet under that rough exterior to do something like this.
She muses on the question throughout the lesson, but does not find a satisfactory answer. They all have reasons to resent her, and she can only imagine that they hated her enough to band together.
Surprisingly, no one harasses her the rest of the school day, and Marianne breathes a sigh of relief as she heads toward her locker to clear it out for the weekend. She tries the handle a few times, but it would not loosen, and she has to tug at it with all her strength before the door opens and spills its contents all over the floor. Her ears burn red as she realizes that is a pile of condoms at her feet, being joined by a few more packages falling out from her locker shelf, and a few students who are on their way out laugh at her expense.
“Very funny,” she grumbles, almost flattered that someone went through the trouble of sticking so many of them through the opening of the locker door, it must have cost them a bit of money. Now there is nothing left to do but scoop the condoms up and throw them away before any of the teachers notice.
Someone picks up a condom as she reaches for it, and she looks up to see Bertram grinning at her.
“Damn, but I guess you really need that many condoms.” He sticks one into her cleavage, strawberry-flavored. “Well, save that for me.”
“No thanks,” she tells him flatly, taking it out and tossing it with the rest of the condoms into the garbage.
“Funny, hearing you say no for once,” he mutters, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him roughly. “I get it, you want to go bareback instead.”
“Definitely not. I do have standards.”
“Somehow I really doubt that,” Bertram says with a leer. “C’mon, babe, I can show you a good time.”
Gilbert and Antonio are on either side of him in an instant, and he lets go of Marianne, still looking smug.
“Hey, I wasn’t doing anything, nothing that she wouldn’t eventually want.”
“Leave her alone, punk,” Gilbert snarls.
“She said no, okay?”
“That’s not what I heard, if you know what I mean.”
“…What?”
The four of them stare at each other, and finally Bertram bursts out laughing.
“Oh my God, you don’t know!” he gasps between snorts of laughter. “Haven’t you ever googled yourself, Marianne?”
“What, why would I do that?”
Gilbert, who has added “google: Gilbert Beilschmidt” and “wiki: Prussia” to his favorites, pulls out his phone and types Marianne’s name into the browser search bar. Antonio glances over his friend’s shoulder as the results pull up, green eyes widening in shock.
“What is it?” Marianne demands. “What are people googling about me?”
“Nothing! It’s nothing!” Gilbert says frantically, holding his phone out of her reach.
“Then why aren’t you letting me see? You know I’ll find out eventually!”
“That’s right, she will,” Bertram remarks, and he glances at Marianne almost apologetically. “Marianne, I swear I have nothing to do with this, but… there’s this webpage all about you, it’s the first thing anyone will see when they search for your name. It’s got pictures of you, videos, too, the chat box is updated every day. The link has probably been shared with everyone in school by now…”
Antonio hands her the phone in silence, and she stares at the screen, at the incriminating images, the video of her stripping, and worse. She doesn’t know how anyone could have gotten those images, she never recalled being photographed or recorded, and her mind goes blank even thinking about who would have the dedication to humiliate her so utterly.
There are no names, not even screen names, just her full name. Someone writes “like mother, like daughter,” and someone else asks if she would stoop so low as to fuck a dog. Just as Bertram had mentioned, the consensus is that she is always ready, never unwilling, and best of all, didn’t even need to be paid.
All over the site, the anonymous label her: “dumb slut,” “worthless whore,” “disgusting tramp.”
Marianne hands Gilbert his phone, and manages to say in a shaky voice, “It is nothing anyone hasn’t seen before.” Then she hurries off before they can see her cry, not stopping until she reaches her car.
Her mother knocks on her door when she does not come down for dinner, which she always does when her parents get their act together and cook.
“Marianne, dear, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Mama.” Her voice is like the croaking of a frog, she has been crying so hard.
“If that is what you want. But will you try to eat something, for me?”
“Leave me alone, please.”
“Marianne…” Her mother sighs and leaves the tray of food on the ground, eyes welling up with tears for her child. “We love you.”
Once or twice, someone dares to ask Gilbert and Antonio where Marianne is, why she hasn’t been to school for nearly a week, but they get no answer, only menacing silence. Alfred even stops by her house, but his considerable charms are not enough to persuade her father to let him in to see her. No one can find out what happened to her, and the gossip on the webpage slows down now that the target has been eliminated.
At the student council meeting, Arthur finds himself unable to function without Marianne’s unique brand of assistance. Simone and Alfred do their best to fill in for her, but they don’t know what he wants like she does, and he snaps at them more than they probably deserve. Everyone in the room looks extremely relieved when Arthur dismisses them early, and he leaves in a hurry to find Gilbert and Antonio.
“Whadya want, Kirkland?” Gilbert growls once Arthur catches up to them.
“Where is Bonnefoy, you two?”
“She’s at home.”
“Do you know when she is coming back?”
“No.”
Antonio gives Arthur a pitying look. “She’ll come back when the doctor says she can.”
“Why, what’s wrong with her?”
The other two watch him as Gilbert says slowly, “I don’t know, but she went with her parents to the clinic on 6th street, and that’s what her mom told me when they came back.”
There is only one clinic on 6th street and Arthur knows it. He attempts to cover his astonishment with a supercilious sniff. “Well, I imagine she would need such services eventually. Whatever it takes for a slut like her to learn.”
The steely gleam in Antonio’s eyes is frightening. “You know something, Arthur.”
“Of course you do,” Gilbert mutters, advancing upon Arthur with a fiendish grin. “You’re the one who has known Marianne the longest. You’re the one with the most power in the school besides Vargas himself, and even he doesn’t give a crap about anything until you bring it up.”
“You have always hated her, and all this time, you were keeping an eye on her to make sure she will never gain anyone else’s sympathy.”
“Weren’t you two applying for the same university, Kirkland? Yeah, I think so. Well, I guess you’re thrilled now that you don’t have to worry about her taking your spot.”
“Like I said, Marianne brought it on herself,” Arthur replies coldly. “She chose to live immorally, and these were the natural consequences of her choices. Just because I know her and hate her…” Arthur doesn’t want to talk about Marianne anymore, knowing he was involved with her on and off throughout the years, guilty by association, but he can’t help himself, can’t stop talking. “You can’t prove anything, anyway.”
“You’re right, we don’t have proof, nor would we need any, when we know how much you hate her. But maybe next time you ought to make sure whoever made the website spells words the proper way, because it is sure as hell makes you look guilty.”
They walk off, but stop once Arthur starts laughing.
“Why the fuck do you even stand up for her?” he demands. “She has never done anything for anyone else that wouldn’t benefit her somehow. She only got onto the student council because she was screwing Vargas, she didn’t get a single vote, not one. I don’t think I have seen the school more united than when that site went up, because trust me, no one can stand her for longer than it takes to fuck her. How do you two not see that, how are you so blind?”
Arthur is practically screaming by now, and when they tackle him, he is more than ready. Out of the three, he fights dirtiest, but they are ripping into him with the rage of animals. He pushes back with all the bitterness in his heart, punching and kicking and clawing, because he realizes now, too late, that she is bringing him down with her, and he has nothing left to lose.
By the time the headmaster could separate them, since no other student dared to interfere, they are bleeding and bruised, Arthur’s nose crooked and dripping blood, one of Gilbert’s teeth loose in its socket, Antonio sporting another black eye to match his healing one. Vargas tuts at them affectionately, letting them know he will be notifying their parents of their behavior, and if they cause any more trouble on campus, they can say farewell to their diplomas.
“It’s not over.”
“No truer words have been said.”
Once they clean up and change into less bloody clothes, Gilbert and Antonio head for Marianne’s house. Her father lets them in after they explain, but it takes a little more convincing to get Marianne to open her bedroom door. She does eventually and looks startled to see her friends injured so, and invites them to stay a while.
“We all look pretty awful, don’t we?” she says, voice hoarse and quiet. She is thin and worn and pale, her skin nearly translucent, eyes still bloodshot from crying. “I have been sick, Gil, Toni. I could not even eat.”
They know.
“The doctor says I will get better soon. I hope so, I am tired of looking ugly.”
“You’re not ugly, Marianne,” Antonio assures her. “You never were.”
“Of course not,” she murmurs, smiling weakly. “Thank you, for fighting for me. I will fight for you next time. All for one and one for all, isn’t that what we promised?”
They are too tired to do much else, and so they curl up together in bed, promptly falling asleep in each other’s arms. Marianne’s mother comes in to cover them with a blanket, kissing all three on their foreheads. When they wake up an hour later, they are starving, and Marianne’s father finally gets the big family dinner he had been wanting. Marianne still complains of her stomach hurting, but now it is from laughing too much, and she will be content with that.
As Gilbert and Antonio are about to leave, she asks if they had hurt Arthur too much.
“No, just enough, Marianne,” Gilbert replies, trying to not grin and split his lip again. Those two are still friends, after all, if in a very vague sense of the word.
“How gracious of you to spare him. I shall beat him up some more… after graduation photos.”
With that, they wish her good night, and kiss her until Antonio’s mother calls to remind him of his curfew, and they kiss her some more just to make sure.