Episode 11 - Homecoming - Noun: The cause of drama

If anything, Monet was sick of all the club drama. It had been five days since the fight started and the divide was getting more and more obvious. Isa didn't join them for the Bathroom Picnic anymore and Anthony, Leo, and Isa didn't interact with Cleopatra unless it was absolutely necessary. It was becoming more and more of a problem and Monet didn't like it. Though, Jasmine and Kyra were joining them for the Bathroom Picnic now and Sebastian had no problems with Cleopatra. The same went for Sasha, Jasmine, and Mark. Kyra was another story, but the two girls had always had some tension. It wasn't all that surprising that they were at odds, mostly because they always had been. Still, because of a few small things they had in common and the Bathroom Picnic meetings they had, they were starting to get along, even if it meant that they were only just insulting each other rather then staring the other down.

And yet, the club was making her more and more anxious every time she stepped into the room. That's why she had asked Cleopatra to spend after school with her in the gym yesterday. She hated how there was so much tension in the room and she was sick of it. So, instead of having to deal with it, she had decided to just leave the room. It had helped and she and Cleopatra just had a nice time in the silence of the gym. Monet had worked on some of her Karate moves that she still needed to work on and Cleopatra spent her time working on some of the finishing touches on the wedding dress she was working on.

However, Mark had asked her to Homecoming and with a mix of emotions, she had agreed to go with him. So now, she had to figure out what she was doing.

Like last year, Monet had been planning on not going at all, since big functions like this stressed her out, but he had come up to her right after club ended and she was about to head over to her martial arts club for the class she had to fill in for. He gave her an envelope and when she opened it, she found a card that said 'It'd be a bore without you this weekend', though it was very clearly written by Jasmine, probably because Mark couldn't have nice handwriting for the life of him. She was confused and wrote it off as him and Jasmine expressing how sad they'd be without her. That is, until she looked up and saw he had a blush on his face. Then she knew. He was asking her to go to the dance on Saturday.

When he asked, she was a little conflicted. After all, what were you supposed to say when you'd been friends with someone for so long and they asked you to Homecoming like he wanted to date her. She'd never even been to Homecoming before. What was she supposed to do? It didn't help that she was unsure on how she even felt about him. Still, she knew she'd regret it later if she said no, so now it looked like she was going to Homecoming. The only problem? She had no clue what she was doing. Sure, she could ask Jasmine, but she wanted to spare herself all the teasing that she was bound to get. She was at a loss. That is, until Cleopatra came into the room for the club meeting.

"Okay, you are all invited to come over to my brother's apartment on Saturday for Homecoming preparations if you so wish." It was the first thing that the goth said when she stepped into the room. Everyone looked over at her, though some looked actually interested. "I figured that if we're all going to meet up for dinner anyway, it might be nice to get ready together. If you don't want to come, that is fine. You won't hurt my feelings. I just thought I would offer."

"Aw, it looks like you're trying to redeem yourself," Anthony said with a huff. "Good luck digging yourself out of the hole you got yourself into in the first place, Blackheart." Cleopatra sent him a glare and looked as if she was about to flip him off. And then, she calmed down and brushed her skirt down, her face returning to its neutral look once again. She just sighed and shrugged her shoulders, walking over to sit down by Monet.

"It was worth a try, I suppose," She said as she sat down, setting her sewing bag next to her feet and placing her backpack on the floor next to her chair. "I'll guess that everyone here just hates me right now." Monet gave her a small smile and moved down to sit on the floor.

"If you really want someone to come over, I need help getting ready for Homecoming," She replied, lacing her fingers together and wrapping them around her knee. "I've never actually gone to a dance before so I have no clue what I'm doing." She looked down at the floor and heard Cleopatra giggle slightly.

"I thought you said you weren't going," She chuckled, leaning forward slightly to look at Monet. "Did something happen that made you change your mind? Oh, don't tell me. Let me guess. Someone asked you to go, didn't they? Oh, who is it? I'll have to decide if they're quite worthy of you, my dear." Monet blushed and covered her face slightly, as if they action would hide the fact that she was blushing instead of re-enforce it more.

"It's no one really..." She said from behind her hands. She leaned back against the seat that she had been sitting in prior to when Cleopatra came into the room and let out a small groan. "It's just Mark. I think he just didn't want me to skip out again." Cleopatra giggled and smiled at her, gently pulling her hands off her face. Monet let her with little to no resistance and groaned again once she saw the other girl's amused face.

"He likes you," Cleopatra said, taking Monet's hands into hers and gave them a small squeeze. Monet shook her head, trying to deny it, though she was starting to question it herself. Did Mark really like her and if so, why? She hadn't really done anything to earn his attention. Jasmine was more likable than she was. He probably just pitied her and wanted her to actually go this year. "He does, Monet. It's so obvious that it's almost funny. You've never seen the way that he looks at you, probably because it's you, but trust me when I say I think he likes you. After all, if he was only planning on going to Homecoming with a friend, wouldn't he have just asked Jasmine? She's going alone, isn't she?" Cleopatra did have a point, but Monet shook her head. She didn't really want to believe that. After all, there wasn't a single reason that she could think of as to why Mark would like her. It just didn't make sense.

"I think you're wrong. But if you're offering, I'll come over tomorrow. I don't need Jasmine to make more fun of me than she already does," Monet said, taking her hands back from Cleopatra and wrapping them around her legs again. Cleopatra just chuckled and shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't see why not. It'll be fun. We can see if anyone else wants to come over, though I doubt many of them will want too." Cleopatra sat up straight and pulled out her dress she was currently working on. Though, it wasn't the wedding dress. She had been almost done with it yesterday. She must have finished it or gotten bored. Monet knew that feeling better than anyone.

"Jassy might. We could always ask her. I'm sure she's not planning on going anywhere for the dance. Kyra might want to come too," Monet replied with a shrug. "I'm sure that not everyone hates you. Just a few specific people." She glanced over in Anthony's direction, where he was talking with Leo and Isa. "I don't know much about them, that's more of Kyra's thing, but I'm sure that they don't exactly hate you. Just don't like you for some reason." Cleopatra scoffed slightly and shook her head.

"I suppose he does have the right to hate me. After all, I did insult him. Not that it matters much. I don't really care in the long run." She shrugged and looked down at her sewing, grabbing onto the needle to continue the area she was stitching. Monet tilted her head and rested her chin on her knees.

"I fail to see how you of all people could insult anyone," She said, her tone serious, but her words were more teasing than anything else. Cleopatra let out a dry laugh, but she didn't looked up from her work. Oh no. Did she insult her? Monet bit her lip, mostly could of habit, but it really was a fear of her's. She didn't want to insult Cleopatra and if it had, then she wasn't sure if she could forgive herself for it. "Oh... I'm sorry... I didn't mean..."

"No, no! Don't worry!" Cleopatra's gaze jumped up from her work and she gave Monet a comforting look. "I thought it was funny. Don't worry. You're right, of course. How could I of all people insult anyone?" Monet smiled a bit and Cleopatra returned it, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, but didn't look fake either. "Oh, but of course, maybe if Anthony did keep his ego and his temper down, maybe I wouldn't have to speak the truth to him so often. Oh, what a shame it really is." As she spoke, she looked back down at her sewing and continued to work on it. However, her voice raised just high enough for Anthony to hear. And oh, how he heard them. Monet heard him not so quietly pound his fist against the table.

"Oh for the love of... Would you two please just kiss and make up at this point?" Jasmine exclaimed, standing up from her seat where she had been talking with Sasha, Mark, Sebastian, and Kyra. "This is just getting old. You two are being ridiculous." Next to her, Monet heard Cleopatra giggle and she couldn't help but start to giggle with her. Jasmine glared at her, but she didn't really mean it. "I mean it, I swear. Anthony and Cleopatra, get over it. This tension is driving me nuts."

"Do we really have to be best friends?" Cleopatra asked, twisting around in her seat and resting her arm on the back of the chair, batting her eyes innocently at Jasmine. "He is far to much for me to handle. I'm afraid it'll be very painful for me." Jasmine huffed and Anthony glared over at her.

"If Miss Jackson would get over herself, I'm sure that we could at least tolerate each other," He replied, looking over in Jasmine's direction as well. Jasmine groaned and stomped her foot a few times, one of the childish habits that Monet knew she was still trying to get over. She almost felt bad for her sister. In a week, over one fight, the club that Jasmine had worked so hard to make was falling apart and it was over something that was probably really stupid.

"Ah, nice. A Panic! At the Disco reference. Make sure you close the door on your way out," Cleopatra said. Her tone was even, but her words were laced with poison. She felt like she was losing this battle and Monet knew that, though she wasn't sure why she felt like she was losing at all. As far as she knew, they were all just being petty.

"Shut up," Jasmine shouted. She crossed her arms over her chest and Monet knew things were getting serious. "I'm done with this. If you two can't work this out, then I'm going to be forced to take drastic measures. And I mean it. I can't take this tension anymore, it's ridiculous." Cleopatra and Anthony shut up and they both looked away. Monet could only blush and look away. Jasmine could be absolutely terrifying if she wanted to be and right now was no exception. Maybe that was because of her acting abilities, though sometimes Monet wondered if she got it from other sources too.

Jasmine groaned and sat down in her seat again, hiding her face in her hands. Monet felt bad for her. This was just as hard for her as it was for Cleopatra and Anthony. After all, she was basically caught in the middle. However, before she could get up to go to comfort her and ask her how she's feeling, Mark beat her to it and Monet sunk right back down on the floor. Mark could probably do a better job of making her feel better than she could anyway. Besides, Cleopatra was still here and she didn't look too happy about the exchange either.

"So, are you still wanting to come over before the dance?" Cleopatra finally asked, catching Monet's attention. The girl looked up and nodded her head. Cleopatra offered her a sad smile. "Good, that makes one."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"How rich do you have to be to Uber home every day?" Cleopatra mumbled under her breath. Next to her, she heard Kyra sigh and saw the girl slump against the window. Of course, by the luck of the draw, Cleopatra was partnered with Kyra for their English project and after little to no disagreement, they agreed to meet at Kyra's house. Cleopatra made it simple that she wasn't having people over at her house because her parents 'have friends over and simply cannot be disturbed'. She just really didn't want people over at her house. Not yet anyway. And so, it was Kyra's house that they decided on.

"I told you. I'm only doing this because my car got wrecked by my grandfather in a police chase and he hasn't gotten me a new one yet," Kyra replied with a sigh. Cleopatra just rolled her eyes and looked out the window. She knew exactly what Kyra was talking about. She'd seen the headlines after all. "Police chase leads to two wrecked cars. Fourteen-year-old detective hospitalized!" It was all anyone talked about for at least three weeks.

"How'd that hospital trip treat you?" Cleopatra asked, her voice slightly more snarky than she meant for it to sound. She heard Kyra huff slightly before turning her vision to Cleopatra and staring her dead in the eye.

"Fine." Was all she replied with. And then, with that cold response out of the way, she looked back toward the window. They were silent for the rest of the right and they were fine with it. They looked outside their own windows and kept their opinions to themselves. Cleopatra had never really liked the girl, mostly because of what the girl stood for as a detective. Order... Justice... Truth... It all seemed a little too ridiclous. In her opinion, those things didn't really exist. There wasn't any real order, just people pretending that there was to create some sort of system in their lives. Justice was a fraud, just as much as truth. They were corrupt and people just didn't seem to care. It was no wonder that they didn't like each other. Their values were on the other side of the scale.

When they got to Kyra's house, Cleopatra was surprised to see that it was just like any other house. Honestly, with the surprises this girl kept pulling out, she would have expected her to live in a mansion or something like that. Then again, this girl did like the simple life so was she really all that surprised? They didn't speak until they entered the house. Kyra must have realized that she was the host, or at the very least had never hosted anyone before and didn't know where to start, but she looked way too clueless.

"Um... Do you need something to drink?" She asked as she set her bag down on the coat hooks and turned to face Cleopatra. "I guess I could get you something if you wanted?" Cleopatra only shrugged her shoulders and the conversation was over. Kyra sighed and nodded her head, turning to her backpack to get her English things out. "Okay, how about we go up to my room? I'd prefer doing my homework up there than down at the table and I'm really not going to let you into the office."

"That is completely fine with me," Cleopatra replied. She'd never really done her homework anywhere but her room, so the request hadn't fazed her a bit. "I'm sure someone like you has plenty of secrets they'd like to hide anyway." Kyra let out a small laugh, though it sounded more like a scoff, and turned to go upstairs.

"Not in my room I don't."

"Not what I was implying. You have an office, silly."

The two of them made it upstairs to Kyra's room and Kyra sat down on her bed, looking through the things they'd need to do for the project. Cleopatra, however, simply just set her things down and looked around the room. The walls were a light shade of lavendar, not surprising from someone nicknamed Detective Purple Hair, and the trim and furniture was white. The girl did have an eye for color, she'd give her that. It was all clean to a T and even the bed was made, which was something even Cleopatra struggled to do. However, there was one thing that interested her. It was a dark brown cabinet next to the dresser that looked completely out of place. And of course, without permission and without even warning her, Cleopatra promptly walked over to it and went to opened the door.

"Wait, don't do tha..." Kyra said, jerking up to look over at her, as if she knew what she doing before the door opened. However, the warning was just a second too late and Cleopatra only heard her once she had the door open. "You know, you really ought to ask before you do things." Cleopatra went to respond, but something caught the corner of her eye from inside the cabinet and she looked over. It was like a shrine of some kind, two pictures in the middle of the cabinet with a bunch of dead flowers around them and a few candles were spread around them as well. And then she looked a little closer. The pictures weren't just any pictures. They had to be Kyra's parents. It was no secret that the girl didn't have any, but this confirmed that they were, in fact, dead. This was a memorial, to her parents, that she had kept shut up in her bedroom for some reason and it wasn't hard to figure out what it was.

"You know, if you're going to keep this shut up, you could at least get a few fake flowers instead of letting these wither and die," Cleopatra said with a hum. She didn't comment on the pictures or what it meant. She didn't need to ask to clarify what was happening here. Kyra had fell silent and when Cleopatra looked over, she could see that the girl was averting her gaze. So the memorial really was a bother to her. "Unless, of course, there's a reason that it need to be real flowers."

"It's Chinese..." Kyra said with a sigh. "And as tradition goes, flowers are presented to the dead to over them honor and what not. White for those who died too young... At least that's what my grandmother says when she's here." The younger girl didn't look up. "Though, I guess she never said anything about them having to be real." Cleopatra looked back over at the memorial and gently picked up a flower, understanding Kyra just a little bit more. The fact that she shut the doors could only mean one thing, that she was struggling with the fact that her parents were gone. Of course, as most children would, Cleopatra assumed. She walked over to Kyra and held out the flower.

"I'd say that this isn't very white," She commented. Kyra looked up at her with a slightly confused look. "How about this, we'll start our project with that line and see where is takes us. No?" Kyra's eyes drifted to the side as she thought about it.

"I'd say that this isn't very white isn't a very good way to start out a skit that's supposed to sound like it's from the eighteen hundreds." Kyra gave a little smirk and Cleopatra gave her a small smile.

"If I thought about this, I would have to reckon that this flower is a little discolored, is it not, Miss Kingsly," She replied, holding out the flower to Kyra again. This time, the girl gave her a smile and took the flower.

"I would reckon not, my dear friend. Ought it not to be a little more white?" She asked. Cleopatra smiled and sat down on the bed. Okay, so maybe she was judging Kyra Kingsly a little too harshly. She figured it probably wasn't even really her fault she was too uptight. After all, she did keep her dead parents locked up in her closet.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"Alright, sit your butt down. We're going to get your homecoming look right now," Jasmine said, patting the floor across from her. Monet sighed and sat down across from her. Jasmine didn't even look up at her, pulling up her pictures on her phone and setting her makeup bag next to her phone. Monet popped open her water bottle and took a few sips before setting it down and wrapping her towel around her neck, adjusting her uniform and black belt.

"Jassy, do we really have to do this right now?" Monet asked with a sigh, slumping forward and resting her head in her hand. "I have a class in an hour and knowing you, you're not going to let me go until we're done. Wouldn't this be easier to do tomorrow?" At that, Jasmine looked up, false shock on her face. Though, knowing her sister, she knew that Monet would give into anything that she told her to do.

"Um, excuse me, I'm not the one who decided that they were going to leave their homecoming plans to last minute," Jasmine replied with a smile, leaning forward and tapping her phone so the screen lit up. Then, she spun it so it was facing Monet and pointed to it. "Alright, I've got at least twenty dresses at home that are acceptable for this. I took a picture of them and I want you to pick at least one of them." Monet sighed but she picked up the phone and started looking through it anyway. Jasmine smiled and leaned against the lockers behind her. She watched Monet scroll through all the dresses just as she was told to do and she nodded her head. Sure, it was last notice, but once Mark had told her that he wanted to ask Monet, she knew that Monet would say yes. She just wasn't sure where to begin with her. After all, the only time she'd seen Monet dress up was at her mother's funeral and that was years ago. This was long overdue.

"How about this one?" Monet asked, turning the phone around to show Jasmine the image of the dress that she had just known that Monet would pick. It was a dark blue with gems that started at the waist and went up to the shoulder in such a pattern that it ended at a point right at her shoulder. Of course, it was right up Monet's alley. It was dark and not that fancy and, of course, it ended right at the knees where she knew that Monet liked her dresses to go.

"Dressing to impress, sis?" Jasmine asked as she took the phone back. Monet's face flushed and Jasmine giggled before setting down on the floor and started digging through her bag of makeup to look for anything that might go with that dress.

"No, why would you say that?" Monet asked with a small huff, rubbing her face with her towel again. Jasmine giggled again, but she didn't look up. No, what she was doing right now was so much more important.

"Oh, I don't know. It might be the fact that you have a date to HoCo?" She replied as she pulled out a few pallets and loose eyeshadow colors. Monet was silent for a few minutes, too silent. It drew Jasmine's attention and she looked up. Maybe she should have been nicer on the teasing. She knew that sometimes, Monet took it too literally. "Hey, Mo, I didn't mean..."

"Jassy, why did Mark ask me to Homecoming?" Her voice was small. Jasmine wasn't sure how to answer that. Of course, she wanted to tell Monet everything, but she couldn't do that to Mark. Obviously if he hadn't told her that he had a crush on her, than he wasn't ready to tell her. No matter how much she wanted to say something, she knew she couldn't. However, she couldn't just say nothing. Monet would probably read into it too much. "Why didn't he just ask you if he wanted to go with someone?" There was her out.

"Mark and I are just friends. Always have been, always will be. We'll never be anything more," Jasmine said with a shrug. Nailed it. It was the perfect way to respond without ruining anything. Being caught between things like this sucked some times. Monet shrugged her shoulders. She knew that it wasn't a real reason from the look on her face, but it wasn't like she was going to press for more answers.

"Anyway, make up now." Jasmine smiled and looked through the makeup she had laid out. "How much do you want to have, Mo?" Monet let out a small groan and leaned back on her hands. Jasmine knew she wasn't a fan of makeup, but this would have to be done. Jasmine wasn't letting her go to Homecoming without it. "Come on, Monet. It's not going to kill you."

"As little as you can possibly give me," Monet finally replied. Jasmine giggled and shoved most of the make up out of the way. She was left with some dark blue eyeshadow that she knew matched the dress, a small pallet to help tone it down, and some white to match the gems. "And no foundation. I hate that more than I hate getting make up."

"Fine. You're skin looks good anyway," Jasmine said with a small pout. Monet wouldn't let her get away with it, not this time, so she just shook her head. Jasmine groaned but she respected her sister's wishes and put the foundation back. "Alright. But to make up for it, you're wearing blush." Monet scrunched up her nose, obviously not enjoying the idea of it. "Oh, come on. You're barely going to even notice it! Come on!"

"Ugh, fine," Monet replied. She clearly looked like she was done with this, probably bored and wanted to get ready for her martial arts classes that were coming up. "Are we done yet." Jasmine sighed and looked at what she had. No, they weren't. She still needed to get an okay from Monet on hair, though she was just going to let Monet wear whatever shoes she wanted so long as they weren't stupid.

"Hair and then we're done. I swear," Jasmine said, adding the last bit in as soon as she saw Monet roll her eyes. "Come on, this is easy. I'm assuming that you want it down, right?" Monet nodded her head and Jasmine sighed. That was going to be hard. Monet's hair was choppy, so leaving it down looked bad. Still, Monet didn't like to put her hair up unless it was for martial arts. "Can I curl it?"

"Like in tight curls?" Monet asked. Jasmine shook her head before Monet shrugged. "Fine, I guess. You can curl it if you want. Just as long as you don't try to pull it into any buns or anything."

"Can I at least put a braid in it?" Monet's face said she didn't really like the idea, so Jasmine continued. "Not anything fancy or anything. Just a braid to keep your hair out of your face. That way, it doesn't bother you during the dance." Monet blew some air from her lips, but Jasmine could tell that she was debating the idea.

"Okay, fine. You can do that." Jasmine smiled and clasped her hands together.

"And with that, we're done!" She exclaimed, watching Monet relax when she said that. She giggled a bit and held her hands out to Monet to grab onto. When Monet put her hands into hers, Jasmine gave her a sweet smile. "That's it. And you know what, you're going to be the prettiest girl at HoCo. That I promise." Monet's cheeks flushed a bit before she shook her head.

"No, that'll be you, Missy," Monet said quickly. Jasmine sighed and rolled her eyes, but she dropped her hands and waved her off to get ready for her class. Monet was going to be the prettiest. She knew that because Monet was one of the most naturally pretty people that she knew. However, she wasn't going to know that herself and she knew that. It was just her personality and it was almost sad. If only she could tell her about Mark. Maybe, just maybe, she'd grow a little self respect.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

"So, what's been keeping you from calling me," Cleopatra asked as she laid down on her bed. Actually, it was her brother's guest bed, but when she was here, it was her bed. Bailey shrugged her shoulders from the other side of the screen and shook her hair out of her face. She was hiding in a tree at her school, still dressed in her school uniform, but the fishnet shirt poked out from underneath the button up shirt. "It's been, like, days. You missed all of Homecoming week."

"I've just been busy, Cleopatra. That's all. This school has it way of keeping you busy." There was a little edge to her voice, something that Cleopatra wasn't used too. Bailey wasn't one who'd just speak like that. Something had to be up, but Cleopatra wasn't sure what it was. Bailey always told her everything, so what was going on with her now. "It's... sorry, I guess." She shrugged her shoulders and leaned back against the trunk of the tree.

"Okay, whatever. So how's school?" Cleopatra asked, leaning on her arms and resting her chin on them. Bailey shrugged her shoulders again.

"It's just school. How's your club?" She said, but the tone wasn't like Bailey. What on earth was going on with her?

"It's fine. What's actually going on with you? You're not acting like your normal self, Bails," Cleopatra said with a sigh. Sure, this didn't happen often, but Bailey was her best friend. If they had known each other since before Kindergarten, since they could go outside, she should at least know when Bailey was having issues just from the tone in her voice. However, when she looked back at the camera, Bailey looked far from happy.

"I'm fine, Cleo, I don't know what you're talking about," She replied with a snappish tone. Cleopatra would have flinched, but she'd gotten too good at not reacting to things like that anymore. Cleopatra didn't believe her. Instead, she just raised an eyebrow. Bailey glared at her and crossed her arms over her chest slightly. "I said I'm fine. Why don't you just believe me, Cleo?"

"Fine, whatever. It's not like I'm one of the only people who actually cares about you on this planet anyway," Cleopatra said, turning to look up at the ceiling. If this were any other case, Bailey would have joked about it with her, made some comment about how she didn't care about her back or how they must've really screwed up to only have each other, but she didn't. Instead, she scoffed and Cleopatra knew she was rolling her eyes.

"Big talk coming from you," Bailey huffed and Cleopatra turned back around. Not only was she shocked, but she was also curious. What on earth was going on with Bailey? "Like, come on. Who actually cares about you? You have a brother and a soon to be sister-in-law who takes pity on you. Seriously, Cleopatra. You're parents don't even care about you. They only care when they need you to bail them out. So yeah, nice one." Cleopatra bit her lip, her surprise hidden deep inside. She wouldn't let Bailey see how this was bothering her, but still. This hurt.

"What the... Okay, what has gotten into you? Are you serious, Bailey? It's been, like, a week, and suddenly you hate me? If I've done something, be a man and tell me instead of just attacking me. It's immature and rather surprising behavior coming from you." Cleopatra sat up and crossed her arms over her chest. What had gotten into Bailey to make her act like this? She'd never done this before so what was causing this now?

"I'm immature? At least I'm not the one who changes their name and pretends to be someone else just because Mommy and Daddy decided that they wanted to play a new game. Grow up, Tia. You can't live in this make believe world for the rest of your life. Eventually it's going to come back and bite you and then who will be the immature one? Hm? Quit acting like such a little girl and grow up," Bailey snapped. Her arms tightened over her chest and she looked like she wasn't messing around. That's when Cleopatra knew. Bailey had changed. Something had happened to her over there to make her change. Still, it didn't mean that this didn't hurt.

Instead of responding like she should have, instead of trying to bring reason, Cleopatra ended the call and threw her phone across the room. Then, she curled up in a ball on her bed and grabbed at her hair, squeezing and pulling at it. She tried to choke back a few sobs, but the only thing she succeeded in was making it harder to breathe. It was a panic attack, it had to be. She tried to calm herself down, but she felt like she was drowning. Tia... Tia... Tia... She called her Tia... How was she going to calm down now? And officially, Cleopatra Blackheart was going into a panic attack.