On her way to history class the following day, Dom barely made it three steps past the science wing before she was ambushed. Jacky and Nicky appeared out of nowhere, each grabbing an arm and dragging her into the nearest ladies' restroom with a determination that brooked no argument.

“Hey -what the hell?!” Dom protested, though her words were lost in the shuffle.

Other students in the hallway didn’t even glance their way, barely batting an eye as the trio disappeared into the restroom. It was as if this sort of behavior was par for the course, just another Tuesday at the academy of controlled chaos that was high school.

The restroom smelled strongly of industrial-grade disinfectant, a sharp, almost medicinal scent that did little to mask the underlying tang of mildew. Bits of gum clung stubbornly to the stall walls, hardened into little islands of rubbery cement. The stalls themselves were decorated with a history of teenage rebellion -graffiti etched into surfaces with keys or sharp objects, ranging from crude initials in hearts to declarations like "Sasha + Kyle 4EVA".

The air was cold, the flickering fluorescent lights casting an unforgiving glare that emphasized every scratch, stain, and imperfection. It wasn’t clean in the way that mattered, but it was definitely sterile.

At the sinks stood two freshmen, wielding makeup brushes and compacts like they were prepping for a fashion runway instead of second period. Their outfits seemed to belong more to a nightclub than a high school -four-inch heeled boots, skirts that defied gravity, and sheer fitted tops that proudly displayed the intricate lacework of their bras underneath. Matching tattoos of a Celtic triquetra adorned their lower backs, the ink visible through the sheer fabric.

Jacky’s voice cut through the room like a whip. “Freshmen. Out.”

The low, intense tone sent a ripple of unease through the air. The two girls froze, exchanging nervous glances as they took in the sight of Jacky and Nicky manhandling Dom into the restroom. It took them all of three seconds to decide their makeup was fine as-is. Without another word, they snapped their compacts shut and scurried out, heels clicking against the tile as they disappeared into the hall.

Once the door swung closed behind them, Nicky darted to the stalls, pushing each one open to confirm they were alone. Satisfied, she turned back to the group, her grin already splitting her face.

Jacky was the first to break, letting out a laugh that quickly escalated into full-blown hysteria. Tears streamed down her face as she held her sides. “Did you see the looks on their faces?” she gasped.

“I know!” Nicky wheezed, her voice catching between breaths. “They looked like deer in headlights!”

Dom couldn’t help but join in, laughter bubbling out of her chest as the absurdity of the moment hit her. For about thirty seconds, the room echoed with the sound of their shared amusement. But just as quickly as it started, Dom’s laughter stopped.

The change was instant, like a switch had been flipped. She crossed her arms, her expression shifting into something mockingly stern. Her silence hit like a cold wind, causing Jacky and Nicky’s laughter to taper off into uneasy chuckles.

“What was all that about?” Dom asked, raising an eyebrow. Her tone was light but carried an undercurrent of genuine curiosity.

She pushed off the wall where she’d been standing and moved to lean casually next to the sinks, giving the other two girls the perfect opportunity to check their reflections while they talked. Not that they needed it.

Jacky, as usual, looked flawless. She wore a just-under-conservative, royal purple skirt with delicate frills that stopped just above her knees, paired with a matching mock-business coat over a black silk blouse. The top hinted at cleavage, toeing the line of propriety with calculated precision.

The colors of her outfit complemented her dusky olive complexion perfectly –a natural harmony born from her dual heritage. Her dark brown hair and striking features were a testament to the blend of her South American father from Venezuela and her Nordic mother’s blond hair and blue eyes. She was the picture of poise and confidence, her dark brown hair styled just enough to suggest she hadn’t tried too hard.

Whereas Nicky was nearly the exact opposite of Jacky, her complexion was fair, with a soft dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks -freckles she often tried (unsuccessfully) to mask with makeup. Her deep auburn hair, which looked suspiciously too perfect to be natural, framed her face in loose waves that gave her an effortless allure. Her outfit mirrored Jacky’s in style but diverged in color: a sleek black skirt paired with vibrant yellow tights and a matching yellow vest over a black blouse.

Pulling off yellow was no easy feat, yet Nicky somehow made it look chic and sophisticated rather than garish.

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They were both dressed in school colors, a necessity as co-captains of the football cheer squad. Keeping up appearances wasn’t a choice -it was an unspoken rule of their position. Of course, with their looks, it hardly felt like a chore. They made it seem effortless, as though the uniforms had been designed for them instead of the other way around.

Jacky smirked, wiping the last of her tears. “What, can’t we just hang out with our favorite girl?”

Nicky snorted. “Yeah, Dom, don’t act like you don’t miss us dragging you into sketchy bathrooms.”

Dom rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the corner of her mouth from twitching upward. “Sure, sure. But seriously, what’s going on? You two don’t pull stunts like this without a reason.”

Jacky and Nicky exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them. Jacky shrugged first, gesturing for Nicky to take the lead.

Nicky leaned against the sink, crossing her arms. “Okay, fine. We wanted to check in on you. Things have been... tense lately.”

Jacky nodded, her usual sass replaced by something softer. “Yeah, you’ve been kind of MIA. And we get it -life’s been crazy. But you’ve gotta let us know if you’re drowning out there, okay?”

Dom’s expression softened, her mock sternness giving way to something more genuine. “I appreciate it, really. But I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh,” Nicky said, unconvinced. “Fine enough to laugh at terrified freshmen, but not fine enough to hang out with us after school? Yeah, right.”

Jacky chimed in, her smirk returning. “You know we’re not buying it, right?”

Dom sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Look, it’s complicated, okay? But I promise, I’m handling it.” Seeing their open disbelief, she added, “It’s under control.”

For a moment, the room was quiet except for the faint hum of the fluorescent lights. Then Jacky grinned and held out her hand.

“All right, deal,” she said. “But if you’re lying, we’re staging an intervention. With snacks.”

“Lots of snacks,” Nicky added.

Dom couldn’t help but laugh, shaking Jacky’s outstretched hand. “Deal.”

Then, giving the pair of femme fatales a stern once over, Dom crossed her arms and glared suspiciously. “Alright, now spill it for real. Tell me why you really pulled that stunt.”

Nicky held up her hands in surrender, before casting her eyes down in defeat.

Jacky meanwhile leaned toward the mirror, touching up her lipstick with quick, precise strokes. “Well, three things, actually,” she said, her voice casual but tinged with anticipation.

Nicky took over, her tone brightening as she turned her attention to Dom. “First off, has he asked you to prom yet?”

“Who? Nile?” Dom snorted, the sound loud and indelicate, as if the mere suggestion was utterly ridiculous.

Nicky pressed on as if she hadn’t heard. “Word on the street is that he hasn’t asked anyone yet, and I know you two have that whole pact thing, so we were just curious.”

Her sharp gaze locked on Dom, clearly fishing for information. Dom met her stare with one firm shake of her head, a silent but unmistakable no. Nicky sighed, her disappointment obvious.

The pact. Dom and Nile had sworn it after their last disastrous dance experiences, an unbreakable promise: if they ever decided to go to any formal dances, proms, or other public humiliations, they would go together. No awkward dates, no heartbreak. Just the two of them, skipping the misery and going straight to commiseration. It was a failsafe. And so far, it had worked perfectly.

“Well,” Dom said, crossing her arms, “I figured he was going with Ash. You know, since they’re dating and all.”

Jacky scoffed, her perfectly arched eyebrows lifting. “All we’re saying is, nothing’s confirmed. This might be your chance to beat that bitch at her own game.”

“Wait,” Dom interrupted, frowning. “I thought you two liked her? Isn’t she on the squad and everything?”

Jacky and Nicky exchanged a look, their expressions a mix of exasperation and mischief.

“Well, I mean yeah,” Nicky admitted with a shrug, “but that doesn’t stop her from being a bitch. Am I right?”

Jacky grinned, holding up her hand for a high five. “You are so right.”

Their hands clapped together, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet restroom.

“And besides,” Jacky continued, “you’re our girl. Not her. I don’t care how cool she is with her hot car, big house, amazing looks, and, like, whatever.”

“Seriously,” Dom groaned, rolling her eyes. “You’re not helping.”

“Oops,” Nicky said, her tone sheepish. “Anyway, like I was saying, it might be worth a shot. You never know.”

Dom shook her head, ready to dismiss the conversation, but Nicky didn’t give her a chance. “Okay, moving on,” Nicky chirped. “Next on the list: your big day! It’s not every year our girl turns eighteen! Saturday is just around the corner, and we’ve got so much planned it’s not even funny. You’re free, right?”

Dom hesitated, brushing her hair out of her face. “Well, actually, Nile and I are doing our usual -laser tag tournament, winner’s choice movie marathon, loser buys dinner. It’s tradition. But we can all do something on Sunday, right?”

Jacky and Nicky exchanged another one of their loaded looks, the kind that made Dom’s stomach tighten.

“Hon,” Nicky started slowly, “isn’t he going to Ash’s masquerade party that night?”

Dom blinked, confusion spreading across her face. “What do you mean? Ash is throwing a party? Nile just told me we were on for Saturday night, eight o’clock.”

Her eyes darted between Jacky and Nicky, searching for answers. Her heart started to beat faster as the pair hesitated, clearly unsure how to respond.

“That settles it, then,” Nicky said, forcing a smile. “He’s not going to her party. I mean, you guys have this event planned every year. He’d be an idiot to bail on you for her.”

“Yeah! Definitely!” Jacky added, her enthusiasm so forced it might as well have been accompanied by a neon sign flashing Lies Detected.

Dom’s frown deepened, but she let it drop -for now. “You said there were three things?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Nicky stammered, suddenly avoiding Dom’s gaze. “Well... I guess that pretty much covers everything.”

Dom raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. “Okay, then. I’ve got to get to class. See you two later?”

The trio exchanged quick hugs and air kisses, careful not to smudge their carefully applied makeup. As Dom walked away, her mind churned, her unease growing with every step.

Behind her, Jacky and Nicky lingered for a moment, watching her leave.

“This is going to get messy, isn’t it?” Nicky murmured.

Jacky sighed, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, definitely.”