all your vibrant youth.

alanna. nineteen. she/her. i wanna be like most girls.

[nguyenalanna]

sashahartashby‌:

“Right,” Sasha tells Eileen with a nod, resisting the urge to laugh as she takes a sip of her own drink. When Alanna picks a Jack, she holds up three fingers, already brainstorming what she can do for hers. There isn’t much Sasha hasn’t done, whether she’s proud of that list or not, including Alanna’s choice that leads Sasha to lowering a finger. She never had to steal, not until Irina banned her from the house, but sometimes she shoplifted out of sheer rebellion. 

“Never have I ever,” Sasha begins before pausing to wrack her brain for something she managed to avoid trying. The circle of freshmen are staring at her anticipation, probably wondering what the hell Sasha Hart-Ashby hasn’t done, and she can’t say she isn’t basking in it a little. She hopes whatever she comes up with entertains them enough, but knows she can’t reveal anything too damaging.

“Never have I ever shopped at Walmart,” She finally decides on with a little shrug. Eileen and the others immediately lower a finger, prompting her to smirk a little with pride, because at least she won’t lose by default. 

When it’s Eileen’s turn she blushes and looks at Sasha before averting her gaze to the floor. “Never Have I ever dyed my hair,” She decides on. Sasha lowers her second finger and tries not to cringe. Luckily, she mostly stuck her to her natural hair, but she did have a phase where she tried to be blonde.

Whatever Alanna expected, it isn’t to have two fingers down by the time the game circles back to her. There  are far too many things she’s never done—but of course she’s shopped at a Walmart. Similarly, she once tried, and yes, failed, to dye her hair with a cheap box of hair-dye from the corner drugstore. It had been with her mother’s blessing, a mistaken attempt at bonding as Alanna explored the way she wanted to look. In the end, they’d been forced to cut her hair off entirely. It was the only time Alanna’s had short hair since she was old enough to tell her mother she wanted to grow it long. 

"Never have I ever cheated on a test,” Alanna says. She’s a little surprised to see Eileen put one finger down at that. She’s also embarrassed, at least for her own sake, at least within the privacy of her own thoughts, because she also wonders if Eileen got away with it—if she’d be able to help Alanna do the same. 

Alanna knows, of course, that she would never actually cheat in a class. She’d be far too afraid of getting caught. Far too afraid of what it means if she can’t even get through her freshmen courses without sinking that low. More importantly, it’d be letting her mother down, whether her mom found out or not. It’s just hard, knowing how terrible her grades are, and knowing it’d all be so much easier if she could pull up notes or a textbook during her tests. “Anyone out yet?”

[nguyenalanna]

striker-brayden‌:

The combination of still being on Palmetto time and early morning practice time has Brayden up way earlier than he wanted to be. A late flight means sleeping in, but apparently his body didn’t get the message. He’s sore and groggy from being up so late after the game, but no matter how long he tries to keep his eyes closed, he can’t doze off. Giving up, he slides out of bed and changes into something appropriate for hunting down some food. 

The lobby is practically dead when he steps out of the elevator, and it only makes him more bitter that he’s up and moving while the rest of his teammates are dead to the world. He’s about to track down the hotel breakfast, but runs into Alanna first. The fact that he’s not alone in his inability to sleep instantly makes him feel better, and he actually manages to give her a weak smile as a greeting. 

She looks relatively alive after a night of partying, but Brayden can still see the signs of a hangover on her face and sympathizes with her. He was sober last night, but he’s woken up with more nasty hangovers than he can count, and he knows the only cure is a big breakfast. 

“I could go for fancy coffee,” He gives a quiet laugh as he nods towards the door.  He’s been experimenting with more than black coffee ever since Raleigh showed him the light. There’s coffee that tastes like actual fucking cookies, and he doesn’t know how he’s gone his whole life without taking advantage of that. 

“We’ll go find a place.” He hasn’t been to Chicago enough to know his way around, but he thinks he knows enough to not get lost. “I promise I’ll get us back to the hotel afterwards.” 

Sure, Brayden isn’t necessarily someone Alanna would’ve expected to find at this hour of the morning, but he sounds confident enough when he promises he can get them back to the hotel on time—and really, that’s enough for her. He also looks much better than she feels, his eyes bright and clear where she’s still dying for a pair of sunglasses, and that’s yet another good sign for this breakfast adventure. 

"I bet there’s a ton of places nearby,” Alanna says, as they move towards the door. “It’s a city after all.” As they step out onto the street and the already too bright sunlight her headache intensifies, but it isn’t enough to send her running back to the safety of her hotel room. Not yet, at least.

Besides: when’s the next time she’ll be in Chicago? Maybe if the Foxes do this well next year too, but that’s ages away. She’s never been here before and she wants to explore, at least a little, before their flight home later today. What’s wrong with that? 

“Did you have fun last night?” Alanna asks, for lack of anything better to say to Brayden. She doesn’t think he likes small talk much, but she also can’t bear the silence either—especially not with someone she doesn’t truly know, despite the way she’s spent nearly entire year cheering on Brayden as he scores goals on the court. He’s private though. Grumpy, according to some sources. In truth, he intimidates her, even though he clearly isn’t trying. “Congrats on your goal last night. That was awesome.”

[nguyenalanna]

hwisaacs‌:

         Henry doesn’t consider himself a morning person because he doesn’t go to bed until at least two on a good night, sometimes three or four if he’s really in the zone with his writing. Since he also refuses to sleep for more than a few hours at a time, he doesn’t think it counts as being a morning person. Away from Palmetto it is easier to sleep—unless he’s up late partying with the Foxes, which is a rare occurrence for him. Last night, everything felt different though—and it probably had to do with the conversation he had with Betsy before leaving campus.

         But despite not being in Palmetto and being up late, he’s still up early. He’s up early enough that he can get fresh coffee from downstairs. Though it takes a moment for him to get out of bed. He’s too comfortable and happy. Henry eventually gets out of bed, grabs his book, and heads downstairs. There are a bunch of people already getting coffee. Who gets up this early on a Saturday? he thinks before realizing he’s up this early on a Saturday. The Fox grabs a cup of coffee, sits down in one of the chairs in the lobby, and opens his book to read.

         He doesn’t know how long he’s there reading before he hears a voice and looks up to see Alanna. Henry clutches his book hard enough to make his knuckles go white. “Oh, um, I guess?” he says, feeling like an idiot. He could go for coffee that doesn’t suck like the one he’s currently sipping on because it’s been sitting in the pot for too long. “Can I say something… before we go?” Henry asks. He hasn’t forgotten their last conversation and it left a hallow feeling in his stomach. He doesn’t wait for permission before launching into what he needs to say. People had to know by now if they were paying attention. He spent all night gushing about Jack. And he wasn’t exactly subtle in the airport. 

         “When, um, we had our last conversation…” he starts, looking down at his book and takes a deep breath. “I, uh, I wasn’t… I wasn’t talking about my best friend. Or I mean… I was, sort of. Because she is bi. So… I mean, it wasn’t a lie.” His ramble was getting off track. “I was speaking from experience. I’m gay.” He lets out a long breath and a little chuckle. Betsy would be proud, he thinks. “Sorry, I’m… I’ve only told that to a few people. I’m, uh, still getting used to it. I, um… it’s not an excuse for how I acted, I just… I spent nearly ten years in the closet. I thought… I could make myself straight if I flirted with, um, women. I’m really sorry. Breakfast is on me. If you still want to go. I could really use some better coffee. And, um, get some for, uh, anyone else that wants good coffee.”

Alanna is, perhaps, too hungover for this conversation. Too hungover for Henry in general, after their last conversation, but Alanna’s never known how to maintain a grudge. It isn’t necessarily a good thing, but conflict sets her teeth on edge, leaves her even more uncomfortable and anxious than normal. 

She doesn’t know how people like Sasha and Raleigh stand it; how they stand their ground without feeling guilt-ridden for hours afterwards. She’d  like to learn though, in her own way. She’ll never be like Sasha, who throws punches on the court and bares the bruises with pride, and she doesn’t want that either—but some more confidence would be nice.

Henry’s got it in his head that he owes her some speech apparently, a coming out scene in this empty hotel lobby, and Alanna won’t stop him. If this is what he needs, then of course she’ll listen. There’s a beat of silence when he’s done, Alanna waiting before she speaks up too. “Henry, it’s okay,” she tells him, when it’s clear he’s finished his piece. “You didn’t need to tell me all that, but I’m glad you’re out now. I’m sure it was hard,” she says, because even on a team like the Foxes, even when most people here are out and proud, she knows it isn’t always easy. Ten years is a long, long time in the closet.

As much as it’s a relief to know he won’t read this as her returning his original flirtation, it doesn’t necessarily mean Alanna knows how to act around Henry. She barely knows him and he’s sharing things he’s apparently only told a few people: this kind of vulnerability is his choice, but she can hardly return it. She’s genuinely happy for him and whatever’s brought this about though, just as she’s glad he’s apologized for their uncomfortable conversation before, and maybe that’s enough.  

“Come on. Let’s go get that coffee,” she adds with a smile, as she moves towards the door. This is Chicago; there’s got to be somewhere good nearby. “But you don’t have to pay, because I’m gonna get myself a full breakfast spread too. Or like, at least some decent pastries.”

[nguyenalanna]

raleigheverhart‌:

She hadn’t really been in the partying mood last night. If anyone asks, she doesn’t know what to say about it. She’d probably lie—a parent in the hospital, her cat at the vet, even though a superstitious part feels like that’d be tempting fate, asking the universe to make her lies come true.

The hotel in the morning isn’t quiet, necessarily. There are people: families on vacations, businessmen in suits, some of the unsuspecting people who were unfortunate enough to pick the hotel the Foxes would be staying in that night. There are no Foxes, though, and she didn’t really expect there to be—until she sees Alanna, who looks not exactly awake, but making the best of it. 

“I’m in,” she says. And then adds: “Hotel coffee is terrible,” making a face behind the rim of her paper cup—because she’s drinking it anyway, because however many times she’s been on the road with the Foxes and the football team hasn’t really taught her that lesson. Usually, she’s a little bit less picky. Usually, she needs it more. 

“Figures,” she says to Alanna with a smile. “The one day on the road we can actually sleep in and—here we both are.”     

“At least we can be miserable together,” Alanna says, although Raleigh doesn’t look like she feels anything close to the way Alanna does this morning. She doesn’t remember seeing Raleigh much at the party though and maybe that explains it—or maybe she wasn’t paying attention and Raleigh’s just better at bouncing back than Alanna is. Hopefully, Alanna can do the same by her own senior year. Whatever the reason, Alanna’s still not going to pass up the chance to drag the older Vixen out into Chicago with her though. 

When Alanna pulls out her phone to search, she’s gratified to see plenty of coffee shops and restaurants within a short walking distance of the hotel. She’s missed being in the city—Palmetto, for all its charm, can’t always compare to all that was at her fingertips in Boston or Brookline. The Vixens host most of their own events for a reason.

Her hangover’s made her starving as well as half-dead, so she chooses the closest breakfast place and pulls up their menu. It isn’t just the cliche hangover search for a greasy breakfast. Whenever she’s frustrated or sad or feels plain gross she craves the kind of cheap road food that marked her childhood—back when a dollar menu burger and fries was a treat, because it wasn’t simply whatever they were serving in the shelter or their friend’s house that week. “Would this work?” she says, turning the screen towards Raleigh. “They’ve got a bunch of options for coffee and breakfast.”

[nguyenalanna]

mckennamonroe‌:

         Alanna says the party’s fun, which makes her feel even more miserable that she isn’t there. School is just too much and McKenna’s growing frustrated with her classes. She’s tired and annoyed. And why was math required to graduate? The blonde’s already spoken to her adviser and declared a major, which makes the end of her final semester of general education credits even more final. Realistically, she can change her major, she doesn’t want to. She wants to help people, she wants to teach. Which means she needs to buckle down and focus on her classes.

         When her roommate leaves to change, McKenna looks down at the whole page and a half of problems she hasn’t even begun to solve. A night away from this seems like way more fun than sitting and doing all these problems. What she really needs is someone to pull her away from homework. Betsy’s told her several times that she needs to break to have fun—but how can she when she was told that she needed to work hard before she could do the things she enjoyed when she was growing up? McKenna knows that she can burn out like this; though she has practice and games to pull her away from homework, so it can’t be that bad.

         “That’s true, but can I really do homework tomorrow after staying up really late?” Alanna told her exactly what she needed to hear. McKenna’s heard the same words come out of Betsy’s mouth. She brushes the hair from her face. “Sometimes I feel guilty for enjoying myself at parties when I have so many more productive things I could be doing with that time.” Product of living with her grandparents—of being forced to be responsible. She’s had her share of fun this year. She’s partied with the Vixens and Foxes, learned some things about herself, and had a lot of fun. There comes a time when she’s got to buckle down and be responsible though.

         After a second, she pushed herself away from her desk and sat up. “I never did the whole, wild freshman thing. I never even really had friends until I joined the Vixens.” That might be too deep of a statement for a night that was supposed to be fun. Hopefully, Alanna got the meaning though. The Vixens and Foxes were her friends now, and she didn’t have to be alone anymore. She looked around her room. “Want to help me find something to wear?” she couldn’t show up to a Vixen party in her pajamas. 

McKenna’s admission is painfully familiar, even if it shouldn’t be. Technically, Alanna had friends in high school, at least for a few brief moments—but as glorious as they’d felt at the time, she doesn’t think of them as her friends now. Doesn’t think they ever were, not really. Not when she looks back. Not with the way it all ended. 

Once upon a time she’d missed them even still though, once she changed schools, once she learned to keep her head down rather than risk the alternative. And yes, true friends, she knows, don’t turn on another like that. They’d been quick to destroy her once it seemed like the best way into Ava’s favor—or maybe they’d wanted to do that all along, and they’d just waited for Alanna to do something to deserve it in their eyes. Alanna also knows that if it weren’t for the Vixens, she might’ve ended up there all over again, might’ve gone out for the football cheer squad rather than nothing at all and been the one throwing eggs at the Den.

As horrible as it was even before her old squad turned on her, when their friendship came in the form of competition and jealousy, it was still better than being alone. Whatever lesson she was supposed to learn in high school, she hasn’t fully. She’s only found a better squad to belong to wholeheartedly now.

“Well, you’ve got friends now,” Alanna promises McKenna, with a smile. “And it’s not too late to have a wild sophomore year,” she teases, because it’s McKenna, and she doesn’t know if her roommate’s got anything wild in her at all. Not that Alanna’s any better. For all her late nights at parties or the shots she knocks back before Cade can say anything, she still feels unbearably young beneath it all. She still misses her mom more often than not, as if this distance is brand new rather than nearly a year old. 

“Of course I’ll help you pick something out,” Alanna says, eager as always to help. She doesn’t want to give McKenna a chance to change her mind either—the sooner they can get McKenna out into the party, the better. Even if Alanna has to spend the entire night reminding her that it’s okay to enjoy herself once in a while. “What’s the mood for tonight? Fun? Casual? Sexy?”

[nguyenalanna]

Location: Chicago, IL—hotel Date: Saturday, March 30 Time: Early (open)

Alanna is not a morning person. Especially not the night after a party, especially not when their flight isn’t for ages. In a better world, she’d be asleep for hours still. Actually, in a perfect world, she’d sleep right through this hangover. In the real world though, she wakes up at 6am with a horrible taste in her mouth and a head that’s pounding enough to keep her awake the rest of the morning. 

She isn’t sure how long it takes her to roll out of bed and track down painkillers and water, to get dressed and do her makeup as well as she can in this state, but she doesn’t feel much more like a person by the end of it. She needs food. She doesn’t want the continental breakfast either, with its sad looking collection of fruits and oatmeal packets and plain coffee creamers. 

But the prospect of facing Chicago alone? Alanna can just see herself getting lost and missing the flight. Or, worse, calling Cade to come find her in the nick of time—making her the exact opposite of the cool, independent step-sister she wishes she was. 

Thankfully, there are familiar faces in this hotel even at this godawful hour, and Alanna stops the first one she sees. “Hey, any chance you’re hungry? I need bacon. And hash browns. Maybe some eggs too. Definitely a fancy coffee with lots of milk and sugar.” 

[nguyenalanna]

glxryhoskins‌:

She thinks that she’s not supposed to care about her appearance. That it’s not very punk rock of her, or whatever. But she cares about how people see her, she just doesn’t care about being pretty, at least not in a traditional sense. 

It feels like armor: she likes looking like trouble, like she doesn’t care what anyone thinks. She likes not looking like anyone’s good little sister, certainly not Justice’s. It makes her feel more like her own person, and not what anybody else tried to mold her into. 

But that’s the point of the bet: Glory and Alanna are worlds apart, and what’s comfortable to them would be uncomfortable to the other one. And it’s worlds more interesting than just five dollars changing hands, some chocolate from the vending machine. And so she gives Alanna’s hand a shake as the Buckeyes score, and she grins: “You better get ready, though, it looks like I’m ahead.”

Maybe this isn’t what she’s meant to be doing. Maybe she should be studying plays, taking notes, preparing for meeting either of these teams later on in the Championships. But this is a little more fun. “Full Vixen? There better not be any pom-poms,” she grumbles, but it’s mostly for show. And, if there are, it’s not like she’s not going to uphold her end of the bargain. When it comes to bets, she doesn’t punk out.

“Oh, there’s gonna be some pompoms now,” Alanna teases. Bold words, because as Glory’s pointed out, the Buckeyes are ahead—and they stay there too, as the game rapidly comes to an end before their eyes. The buzzer sounds and it’s far more unfortunate for the Sundevils than it is for her, but even still. Alanna sighs, falsely overly dramatic, and then shoots Glory a smile. Proof that there aren’t any hard feelings. “Or not. You win.” 

Maybe it’s for the best that she’s lost this the bet anyway. Alanna’s never been the sort of person who can slip into different outfits. Different skins. This is who she wants to be, who she’s always wanted to be—undeniably girly, all bows and bright colors and big smiles. Most days, she still isn’t comfortable in her skin, even like this. A day in Glory’s shoes will be a brand new experience then, and Alanna’s supposed to be tracking those down right now. It’s college. 

On the screen, the Buckeyes and Sundevils line up for their handshake line. It looks about as cordial as any she’s seen at a Fox game—which is to say it looks like a thinly veiled excuse for the Buckeyes to gloat. Alanna turns away from the screen and back to Glory. “So...when should I come over for my makeover?”

[nguyenalanna]

mckennamonroe‌:

         McKenna didn’t think that she was antisocial, sometimes she forgot that she was surrounded by people who wouldn’t judge her. She hadn’t been a Vixen for very long and it was a completely different experience than her high school cheer squad had been. She knew that her squad would never judge her for certain things, like her sexuality and who she was as a person. But she forgot that they were her friends and people she trusted, people that were there to help her. The semester was rough, with the championships and her schoolwork. McKenna didn’t feel like she had the energy to be around people like she usually did. She just didn’t want people to judge how frazzled she looked and felt. Especially since she felt like she had so much to do and every second of the day was already crammed with things.

         When Alanna walks in, she looked up and smiles, brushing the hair that had fallen in front of her face away. “No, you can stay as long as you want. It’s your room too.” McKenna had two years of getting used to living with a roommate and it wasn’t horrible. As a kid, she was used to a bunch of people crowded in whatever house or place her mom had found for them to stay. Though she was still little when she moved into her grandparent’s house and there she’d been alone. Having a roommate sometimes was still strange. Though Alanna was by far strides better than her roommate last year, so McKenna wasn’t going to complain. She watches her roommate for a moment. “Oh, um, maybe I guess?” she shrugs. “I’ve got so much to do and I feel so… overwhelmed.” McKenna sighs and puts her pen down. “Is it… fun?” The Vixen didn’t know if she really wanted that to be answered because she wanted to be missing the fun. 

“Totally fun,” Alanna says. “It’s all the Vixens and its a Friday night, how could it not be fun?” She finally tracks down the outfit she’s looking for and Alanna heads towards the bathroom, fresh skirt and shirt in her hands. “One sec, I’ll tell you more about it,” she says, before vanishing to change. 

It’s silly, she knows—she’s changed in the locker room with the rest of the Vixens hundreds of times, but even then, she’s as perfunctory as she can be. She doesn’t want people to look over and see her without the shield of a uniform or flashy clothes and flashier makeup. Maybe it’s a relic of her old squad, the way they’d use any opportunity to tear one another down—locker rooms and weigh-ins included. Vulnerability, of any kind, was dangerous.

When Alanna emerges again, her new outfit safely on and her makeup touched up in the process, the rest of McKenna’s statement has belatedly registered. “You’ve got all weekend to finish your homework,” Alanna points out, as she throws the rejected dress into her laundry bag for now. “I mean, if you’re too slammed to hang, I get it,” Alanna says. With her own horrible grades, she can hardly fault McKenna for being focused. 

There’s got to be a middle ground though—McKenna could stand to have more fun and maybe Alanna could stand to have less. She’s not going to change her tune tonight though, when the Vixens are the ones hosting the event. “But if you decide to take a break, come find me! We should have a drink together. I’ll even let you choose what. There’s beers, ciders, shots, and soda. We’re like, completely stocked up out there.”

[nguyenalanna]

sashahartashby‌:

“It requires a little more thinking and it’s less messy than beer pong and flip cup,” Sasha explains before sipping her own mixed drink. It’s definitely freshmen party quality, but she knew exactly what she was walking into when she agreed to follow Alanna. And there’s something about being the oldest and wisest in the room that makes that’s already making her night. She revels not at all subtle looks of awe Alanna’s friend keeps giving her, and there’s a few other people in the room that keep staring. 

“We need a deck of cards and a drink for the middle,” Sasha instructs before explaining the rules of the game. She always liked Kings, because it required to be quick thinking even as her brain grew slow and fuzzy, and her movements uncoordinated. Also, after everything was said and done, the floor wasn’t left so sticky that her heels stuck to the floor every time she moved. 

“What do you think?” Sasha asks after she’s done explaining, looking between Eileen and Alanna expectantly. “Then again, there’s always the ones that don’t require any extra supplies, like Truth or Dare or Never Have I Ever,” She points out with a shrug, feeling like she’s at a middle school slumber party now. The vibe is definitely similar from the ones she went to as a preteen, in which she elected herself as the leader then too.

“It sounds fun,” Alanna says, although she knows she would’ve said that no matter what, simply because Sasha is the one suggesting it. She thinks Eileen must feel the same way, because her lab partner is nodding excitedly before Sasha’s even done explaining King’s cup to either of them.

“I’ve totally got cards,” Eileen says. “And drinks, duh. One second, okay? Don’t go anywhere.” It doesn’t take long for Eileen to return, fresh deck in hand and more of Alanna’s freshmen cohort in tow. It’s obvious that Sasha’s the main draw rather than the game, but Alanna can hardly blame them.

They settle down around a red solo cup and Eileen spreads the cards out around it. As the host, Eileen goes first—and when she pulls an eight for mate, it isn’t surprising that she promptly chooses Sasha. “So every time one of us drinks, so does the other, right?” Eileen says, looking far too pleased with herself. 

Alanna’s next and she pulls out a Jack. From Sasha’s explanation of the rules, that means it’s time for a quick round of never have I ever. “Uhm,” Alanna says. There are far too many things she’s never done. “Never Have I Ever...stolen anything?”

[nguyenalanna]

sashahartashby‌:

Sasha’s idea of fun isn’t usually hanging around freshmen. They’re still fresh out of high school, and are overly eager about being away from home, drinking whatever cheap alcohol older students are willing to buy for them, like Pinnacle Whipped Vodka and UV Blue. It’s better than the Tower though, and as Sasha witnesses Alanna grow more and more flustered and her friend Eileen revel in her mere presence, she’s glad for the free ego boost. 

She’s always been popular, though maybe more-so out of fear, but she’s used to the look of awe people sometimes get on their faces when she’s around, and it doesn’t get old. She loves to be admired, loves to be feared, she just loves attention in any form. 

As Eileen gushes over her, an amused smirk reaches her lips, resting her hands on her hips as she takes in her surroundings. It’s not nearly as rowdy as the party she found earlier, but that’s not always a bad thing. It gives her the opportunity to stand out and teach these little freshmen how to have a real party. 

“Does she?” Sasha asks as she gives Alanna a knowing look. Her lips twitch in an attempt to fight a laugh when she tries her best to move past the subject, and Sasha decides not to torture her too much. She did rescue her from a miserable dorm after all. 

Without waiting for an invitation, Sasha breezes past them and heads for where she sees the makeshift drink setup. She decides to keep it simple and mixes together two red solo cups filled with vodka and coke, feeling eyes on her back as she prepares the drinks. 

She pretends like she doesn’t notice the extra attention as she brings Alanna her drink, passing it over with a cool grin. “So, games? Ever play Kings?”

By the time Sasha returns, Alanna’s halfway through an intense, if quiet, conversation with Eileen about why Eileen is being absolutely mortifying right now. Alanna isn’t sure any of it sticks, but at the  very least, her lab partner doesn’t say anything new and embarrassing right away. That’s something, isn’t it?

It isn’t anyone’s fault but Alanna’s in the end though. She’s the one who’s talked Sasha  and the Foxes up so much this entire year. She’s the one who’s convinced people to come to their games, pointed out her favorite players at every chance. The one who’s used the Foxes’ newfound popularity for party invites, just like this one. She should’ve known that would backfire on her eventually. Sasha’s graceful about it, at least. Alanna doesn’t miss the amused expression on Sasha’s face, but the older woman doesn’t say anything either, and that’s enough for Alanna.

“Thanks,” Alanna says, taking the offered solo cup from Sasha. Alanna takes a drink, hiding the wince as the vodka hits her tongue. By now, she’s tried enough drinks that she doesn’t cough or look mortified by the taste, but she still can’t tell them apart well. One vodka is the same as any other. Really, one hard liquor is the same as any other, because it’s never about the taste. It’s about the subsequent warmth that spreads through her body, the dizzying, exciting feeling that comes from being tipsy and closer to fearless than she ever is sober. 

“Kings? I don’t think so,” Alanna continues, resisting the urge to lie. As much as she wants to seem worldly and knowledgeable to Sasha, it won’t do her any good  if Sasha actually wants to play this game next. “I just know, like, beer pong and flip cup. How do you play it?”

[mckennamonroe]

LOCATION: Vixen Den / Alanna & McKenna’s Room DATE: March 22nd TIME: 8:45 PM CLOSED / @nguyenalanna​

         Lately, McKenna had been stressing over schoolwork more than she meant to be. Spring semester, no matter what, seemed to be more stressful in general than fall semester—for whatever reason. Her classes seemed to be harder, or maybe it was just that she was towards the last little bit of general education credits taking slightly more difficult classes. Combined with Vixen practice as well as Fox games, her time for studying seemed almost non-existent. Or so it felt like. She probably was stressing over nothing because she clearly was doing well in her classes. McKenna felt like she had too much to do at any given moment. Without a game this week, she’d been looking forward to a quiet weekend to herself to just chill and maybe get ahead on her reading, until the watch party was announced. She felt like a bad person for wanting to skip it, the Vixen didn’t think she had the time to spare.

         But she was at least going to stop by for a little bit so that she could seem social. The rest of the Foxes and Vixens piled into the Den to party and watch the game. Eventually, McKenna excuses herself and heads up to her room. She hoped that she didn’t seem rude by going back so early. With everyone more focused on the game, the party was less wild than a usual one—everyone wanted to be clear of mind when the time for the game came. Maybe it would get more wild later, after the game, when the Foxes knew of what their next game would entail. She settled into her desk, book in front of her and laptop open beside her as she highlighted portions of the text to use in the essay. If someone came into the room, she wouldn’t have noticed, too focus on her own work.

[nguyenalanna]

The party’s only just begun when Alanna spills a beer on her dress. She isn’t drunk—this was only her first drink, thanks very much, and most of it spilled out before she ever got to it—she’s just clumsy, but that almost makes it more disappointing. Especially when she’d painstakingly laid out her outfit this morning and now it’s ruined for the evening. 

Thankfully, hosting the party means she can rush back to her room to quickly find something new without missing much. Their room is quiet, empty save for McKenna and her books, and with a quick hi, sorry, Alanna makes her way to her own disorganized closet. It takes longer than she’d like to choose a new outfit, and in the process, Alanna can’t help but chat away to her roommate. 

“I know, I know you’re busy. I just have to change real quick and you’ve got the place to yourself again,” she says, sorting through her skirts for her favorite one. She’s almost positive it’s clean. It would help if she ever got rid of clothes, but she’s still got things she hasn’t worn in years, unwilling or unable to part with them just in case. Her mom raised her to reuse though, to sew on patches and stitch holes and make things work for as long as they physically could. Alanna wouldn’t be caught dead in those old, torn things now, but she can’t bring herself to throw them out either. “How’s the studying going? You gonna take a break later and join us?”

[nguyenalanna]

glxryhoskins‌:

Glory’s used to scrounging, to not having much. In Louisville, they’d played poker in her group homes, scrabbling together bets from what they had in their pockets, things they bought or things they stole. All she owned in the world fit in one backpack, then. Maybe it doesn’t anymore: she has Exy gear that Wymack bought for her, textbooks that she doesn’t open as often as she should, a bike that she stole. 

It’s the most settled she’s been. 

“Oh, makeovers, definitely.” She says with a laugh. She grew up in hand-me-downs: from her older sisters, but from her brothers, too, when she got too tall for anything that used to belong to Charity or Virtue. Growing up, even when her hair was neat and her siblings picked out her clothes, she’d never dressed like Alanna. Nothing anybody ever called fashionable, the kind of things that got her siblings teased in school by the people who cared about that sort of thing, that had more than the Hoskins and wanted them to know it.

And now she’s far from home, and she wants to look like it. Likes to think that, if people from Owls Bend saw her now, they wouldn’t recognize her. And, if they did recognize her, they’d have a fucking heart attack. “I’d mess you up,” she says, but softens is with a smile, just a flash of one to show that this is for fun. That messy is, as far as she’s concerned, with her ripped tights and her eyeliner smudged under her eyes, a compliment. “You wanna shake on it?” 

Glory doesn’t mean anything by it, but she’s smiling and saying mess you up in a way that sounds like a good thing, and Alanna’s pretty sure she can feel her face heat in response. She’d thrown out makeovers because they’re fun, because girls like Alanna are supposed to love makeovers anyway and she doesn’t mind being a stereotype when its genuine too, but now she thinks about how close she’ll have to lean in to dust Glory’s eyes with gold—or vice versa, for Glory to line Alanna’s with that signature smudged eyeliner.

“Totally,” Alanna manages, pretending she isn’t thinking about that at all. She sticks her hand out for Glory to shake, while the Buckeyes score on the screen in front of them. It officially places them in the lead. Maybe Alanna will end up rocking a new look, if only for a day—or trying to, at least, because she doesn’t have Glory’s casual confidence to pull it off. 

Her team might be losing for now, but Alanna’s an optimist. She cheers for the Foxes, and some would say that means she has a soft spot for the underdog. She also isn’t going to back down from the bet. She’s never been competitive, but Glory seems excited about the terms, and Alanna’s having fun. “I hope you like glitter,” she adds, her best attempt at trash talk. Alanna has a feeling she should stick with the cheers and pep talks. “Or bows. I’d go full Vixen with you.”

[nguyenalanna]

sashahartashby‌:

Sasha resists the urge to wrinkle her nose at the thought of partying it up with freshmen. When she weighs her options, the Fox Tower where her mopey teammates are or a dorm with eager freshmen and free drinks, it’s obvious who the winner is. Besides, maybe it won’t be that bad. She’ll revel in being the oldest and wisest in the room, at least. She can teach them drinking games they haven’t picked up on yet. She has to admit, she’s a little hesitant to drink around Alanna again though. Last time, she let a little too much slip, and she wouldn’t say she’s avoided her since then, but she definitely hasn’t gone out of her way to see her. 

Since their little chat in the hot tub, she finally admitted her not-so-heterosexuality to Leo, though she still hasn’t said the actual word yet–not even to herself. She has enough self-control that she doubts she’ll blurt it out in front of Alanna and her friends, but she might drop more hints again. She wants to believe that Alanna is safe, that she wouldn’t spread anything about Sasha out of solidarity, but generally she doesn’t trust anyone. Life taught her that even the seemingly innocent ones have the ability to ruin lives. Telling Leo was risky enough. 

She’ll just have to be careful, she reasons with herself. She’s gone her whole life keeping what she has to, to herself, and there’s no reason why that needs to change. “Why not?” Sasha finally says with a coy smile. “It sounds better than whatever is happening in the Tower, which is probably a lot of everyone feeling sorry for themselves. Lead the way,” She gestures towards Alanna before dropping her cigarette and stomping it out with the heel of her boot. 

“Really?” Alanna says, her reactions too honest in her surprise. She’d invited Sasha out, but that doesn’t mean she’d actually expected Sasha to say yes. “I mean, yeah! It’ll be fun. They’re all super nice,” Alanna promises her. “Come on.” 

It’s a short walk to her lab partner’s house, but once they arrive, the doubts begin. It doesn’t look like a party from the outside. There are lights on, sure, and she can hear music, certainly, but it’s quiet compared to the parties Sasha must be used to. The lights and noise are self contained to the house and there isn’t anyone outside. Still, Alanna’s committed now, and she trips up the step to knock on the door.

It’s opened almost immediately, and Sasha watches as her lab partner’s gaze travels past Alanna and onto the elegant silhouette that is Sasha Hart-Ashby. Alanna doesn’t blame her. “Hi, Eileen,” Alanna says. “You said it was cool if I brought a friend, right? This is Sasha.” At least they’re rewarded with a blast of warmth and music with the door open now. In the background, there are a few people from her courses, obviously setting up some kind of drinking game. Not many people, but enough that this isn’t a total bust.

Eileen beams, obviously impressed with Alanna’s guest, and steps back to let them both in. “You hang out with Sasha?” she says, in what is potentially supposed to be a conspiratorial whisper to Alanna alone. The liquor on her breath explains why she says it a nearly full volume though. It also explains why she misses the pointed look Alanna gives her. Eileen keep going, to Sasha herself now: “I go to all the Fox games now. Alanna talks about you guys all the time.” 

“Cool, thanks, Eileen!” Alanna says, a touch too loud. “So, uhm, where are the drinks? Do you have games?” Anything to distract Sasha from the fact that rather than another true party, Alanna’s brought her to a ragtag gathering of freshmen, and one of them has obviously, obviously heard Alanna singing the Foxes’—Sasha’s—praises all year. In Alanna’s defense, she’d described this as only a kickback, but even still. Maybe she shouldn’t have let these worlds collide.  

[nguyenalanna]

hwisaacs‌:

         He always grew up with this idea of who he was supposed to be—the perfect politician’s son, the golden boy, the star Exy player, the prince charming that gets his princess at the end of the book—but never once has he ever felt like he’s lived up to any of that. In his father’s eyes, he was awful. He wasn’t the golden boy; that had been his sister. He fucked up being the star Exy player when his sister was kicked out. The only image Henry even feels remotely close to still being is the prince charming who gets the girl and he knows that he’ll eventually fail at that one because he’s not that boy that gets the girl. He isn’t even the boy that wants to get the girl and even if it’s a desire he’s never acted upon, he still knows it’s true. He still hasn’t accepted it yet. It’s easier to say he’s not into anyone at all than it is to say he’s into men and maybe that’s a problem, but it’s a problem for him to deal with in the future when it actually comes time to fall in love.

         Maybe all along, Holland was never truly the actor. Maybe it was him this whole time. His sister was loud and proud of who she was. She would rather leave to be accepted by people who would actually accept her than to pretend to be something she’s not. Henry’s never been like that. He’s never been happy to put on a specific face to the world, to have to lie about who he is. His sister was always good at putting a different face on, as long as it wasn’t permanent; when at the end of the night she could go back to being who she was. Not many people suspect him though. He’s carefully over the years, repressed his own feelings that it’s easy to not have them at all—or maybe have feelings behind closed doors where it’s easier to be himself. He can’t wait to be on his own in a world where he can truly take off this persona and be himself, but he doesn’t even know when that will be.

         Making time to hang out with the Vixens isn’t possible. All of his free time is monopolized with extra practice time or classes that he has to finish to graduate. Some of his teammates aren’t the same though and spend lots of time with the Vixens. Henry has never considered himself an antisocial person, but he also doesn’t go out of his way to make time to talk to other people. Social situations can be a lot to handle when he’d rather be reading a book. He doesn’t pretend to know the Vixens anymore than he pretends to know some of his teammates. Henry would rather get to know them organically, whenever they have a chance—like now.

         He almost flinches when the mood changes. Henry’s a lot of things, but he’s not an idiot. He’d rather people tell him face to face when he’s done or said something they don’t like because he’s no trying to cross boundaries and maybe sometimes he’s a little over the top when it comes to complimenting other people. For a second, he stands there listening to her talk and not understanding, trying to figure out what went wrong—and then he sees the pin. Shit. “Wait—I’m sorry.” He doesn’t really know what else to say because it’s not like he’s ever going to admit that he’s even remotely similar because he’s not and he’s still not ready after almost nine years, to admit that he’s gay. “No truly. I mean I get it. My best friend growing up was bisexual. She fought and fought and fought to be accepted, and then she still wasn’t accepted. Sometimes the smallest little comments make you think about how far the world has to go to be accepting and it sucks because all you really want to do is live in a world where you’re wholly and fully accepted. But we don’t live in that world, as much as we’d like to,” he says and then takes a deep breath. “Not that it’s any excuse, but I didn’t know. I’m part of the problem. I’m sorry.” He’s already said that, but it still stands. He wasn’t there for Holland when she needed it most and now he was promising himself he’d be there for others. Sometimes it was difficult to pretend to be a straight guy to uphold a certain image. Maybe one day he’d be as brave as the rest of the Foxes who were so open about who they were. 

Alanna knows about the world they live in. The world she lives in, that is, because God knows it’s different than Henry’s world. She’s a lesbian. She’s a trans woman. She’s Vietnamese. She was poor growing up, and outside of her mother, she was alone. She’s lied to fit in and made herself small, unobtrusive. Looked away in locker rooms and parties in high school, for fear they’d read something more into her expressions and hate her for it. It’s only here, in Palmetto, that she’s as open as she is now—and even then, it’s still hard. 

The lesbian pin on her bag,  something Henry only notices after she’s uncomfortable here and all packed up to leave, felt like a big step at the  time. It isn’t her style, but it was a gift, and Alanna was raised to appreciate those. 

McKenna couldn’t have known what it meant when she gave the pin to Alanna, because she’s only ever known Alanna here, in Palmetto, but there’s history behind Alanna’s choices. It wasn’t always as simple as she pretends it is now. Now, the silly pin means she isn’t only out to herself and her friends; she’s out to strangers too, classmates, people on bus stops and in the dining commons. Sometimes that’s a relief. Sometimes it isn’t. Either way, it’s meant she doesn’t need to have conversations like this one, and that is a breath of fresh air. 

Henry tries to be comforting. Alanna thinks he truly is sorry. That doesn’t mean this moment works for her. Alanna wraps her arms around herself, sticks out her chin. “No, it’s okay. You don’t need to do this,” Alanna tells him. She’d rather he didn’t, if she’s honest. He’s trying, but how can he pretend he understands? Because of a friend? Because of someone he knew as a child? It isn’t the same, and surely, surely he knows that deep down. Maybe Henry saw what his friend lived with—but Alanna lives with it herself. For her, it’s firsthand experience. She doesn’t need Henry to explain this to her.  

But she doesn’t want to talk about it with him. She doesn’t want to explain all this to him, all her complicated, painful history back home. The journey she’s taken to come here, to Palmetto, and start anew. Besides: if he’s so sure he knows what it’s like already, what can she possibly teach him? “I really do have to go though. Lots of homework before cheer practice,” she says, which is true. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, okay?”

[nguyenalanna]

skiesindigo‌:

   “Yeah! Well, they all got adopted, I’m not sure if it was all crew or not. I don’t know about you, but I would never be able to not take home a dog I worked with on set all day for months. Like, don’t you bond? Maybe they fought over who got which dog,” Indigo giggled, thinking about the trailer featuring the adorable pooches. Maybe she spent too much time thinking about Disney dogs and not enough time on her studies; but, somehow, she managed to barely pull through last minute, despite her procrastination. 

   At the prospect of a Disney store excursion, even if nothing would be bought, Indigo nodded with a grin. She enjoyed these sort of lazy afternoons, wandering the stores with a friend. It was such a… normal event to happen, it made all the wild parts of her life currently and in the past seem like nothing. Here she was; just a girl, in a mall, with a pal. Indigo offered an arm to link with Alanna’s, since she was no longer messing with her phone. “We may as well. Start making a list of those Disney films we need to watch.” 

Alanna immediately, happily, linked her arm through Indigo’s. Maybe she should be embarrassed by how much she needed moments like these. Before Palmetto, Alanna’s friends were girls she brutally competed against for social standing though, girls who tore her down when they saw a moment of weakness. Girls who Alanna might’ve torn down in return, if she’d only known how, if she’d thought it could possibly salvage her position on that squad in the end. It was almost healing to waste an afternoon at the mall with another girl now, and Alanna was content to talk about Disney and movies and whatever silly thing Indigo wanted.

Of course, this was Indigo alongside her too—that mattered. Indigo with her brilliant personality, unashamed and unabashed. And Indigo was interesting, in a way Alanna had never been. She was unique. Alanna’s biggest dream before now had  been to wear the same uniform as everyone else, to blend in, to make herself so a part of a group that they’d have to befriend her. Somehow, she didn’t think Indigo would ever settle for that. 

“Okay,” Alanna said, going through her own limited understanding of Disney. “We have to do The Little Mermaid, right? I always loved her best. I used to beg my mom to sign me up for swimming lessons. What’s your top pick?”

[nguyenalanna]

jenbrookhart‌:

Jen gives her a grateful smile, and they know deep down it’s true, but it feels like they’re only smart when it comes to things they care about. They could ace an exam on Exy or makeup application, but unfortunately those aren’t college subjects, and trying to force themself to understand something they’re not naturally interested in is hard. “We might be taking a fifth year, but it won’t be because it’s included in our scholarship,” Jen jokes with a breathless laugh. They hope they’re wrong, but they don’t see how they can carry on like this and not stay late. 

“I totally feel the same,” Jen says in a rush, relieved that someone gets it. “So far, I wouldn’t want to major in any of these subjects, and I don’t want to pick one just to get it over with either,” They sigh. 

Jen spent the majority of their life being told what to do, having their future laid out for them by their dad. Now that they have freedom, it’s almost like the possibilities are so endless that they just can’t decide. “I know a lot of people don’t end up actually using their major once they graduate, but I want it to at least have something to do with my future. And right now, I have no idea what I want to do.” 

Alanna makes a face and shakes her head, torn between amusement and fear at the idea of a fifth year. She can’t ask John and her mother to pay for that. And between the two of them, Alanna knows she’s the lucky one—maybe she doesn’t want to ask her parents for help with an extra year in Palmetto, but it’s still an option for Alanna. From what she can tell, from what she’s heard of their father’s visit to campus earlier in the year, Jen doesn’t have that same option. 

It’s a safety net she shouldn’t take for granted, even in her most self-pitying moments. Especially because it wasn’t always there—because once upon a time, it was hardly a given that even Alanna’s mom would be able to finish her degree, let alone the next generation. For all the work her mother put in, Alanna owes it to her to fix this. To do better. To find something she loves, and to pursue it.

“Maybe we should just pick the vaguest, most flexible major we can find,” Alanna says. “Or make a pact. If neither of us has picked a major by the time we’re twenty-one, we have to study something totally random together. Like Zoology. Or Performing Arts,” she jokes, naming the first two of many college majors she can recall from the dozens of times she’s gone over the full list in the hopes of something calling out to her. 

[nguyenalanna]

beckmorgan‌:

Beck’s never understood the appeal behind college sports. Mostly because she’s a student-athlete and knows the reality of changing in a mildewed locker room, of everyone smelling like death on a team bus after a bad away game. Sports are gross ninety-percent of the time, and there are no photoshoots of these real moments, no television features of athletes having to miss class because of travel and struggling to submit midterms hours before a game over bad wifi. Exy is a scrooge upon her schedule, and that’s why she’s here suffering through orgo at 1-fucking-AM in the dining hall, sucking down coffee faster than a hospital can pump antibiotics through a pneumonia patient.

She finishes her part of the Alkenes and Alkynes group project and sends it in through an email, not sure if anyone else has even started. Group projects are always like this — half the group does what they’re supposed to and the rest disappear into literal oblivion — only to reappear in front of the class and claim credit on the day everything’s due. Maybe Beck should grow pettier and learn to give a bad peer review but it’s whatever at this point, and at least she can finally head out and go to bed now. Or…not. 

“Alanna, hey. You look…interesting,” she manages, wrapping a hand around the Vixen’s back to keep her from tipping over in her chair. Beck’s not really a cookie person but she takes what’s offered anyway, folding it into a napkin to save for Glory or Stella or something. Beside her, Alanna reeks like a frat house and her face glows redder than a traffic light, but at least she’s not an angry drunk or puking or anything. “Are you, uh, okay?” Beck asks. “You seem a little more…uncoordinated than usual.”

“Thank you,” Alanna says, and it’s a testament to the liquid courage in her veins tonight that she can take interesting as a compliment. She beams next, pleased when Beck takes the proffered cookie. Alanna’s not responsible for these—she hasn’t lovingly baked them or decorated them. For all she knows, the dining commons heats them up from frozen, and that’s why they don’t care when Alanna takes a full plate of them. 

Still, food is community. Friendship. Her mother used to insist upon cooking dinner when they stayed at a friend’s house. The first night at every new shelter, they’d camp out in the dining area, sharing stories and a meal with the women who’d been there longer. When it comes to food, Alanna’s hard-wired to share.

“I’m okay,” Alanna repeats, dragging out the oh for a moment too long. She nods too, and for a split second everything spins enough for her to regret the sudden movement. “ “I got like, a real invite to a real party. You guys have won so much and now the Vixens are cool. Isn’t that great?” Alanna says, pausing for a moment to look at Beck earnestly. 

Because it is great. Fantastic, even. For both of their teams. When Beck doesn’t immediately respond, Alanna continues anyway. “You should have come with! To celebrate! It’s your team that’s rocking it out there. You totally deserve it,” she says, conveniently forgetting that Beck likely doesn’t know these friends from her class, or the fact that Beck is here surrounded by notes and textbooks rather out at any party.