The redheaded, walking aberration had managed to ping Rowan's radar in the absolute worst way, and an Anderson never forgot.
Revenge took time to plan out and find someone to help her carry out her plan - namely one Taylor Rose, but as the Thanksgiving break neared, she was almost itching to see it all unfold. Nobody messed with her people and got away with it, good girl reputation be damned if that was what it took.
"You're one fucked up little nugget, you know that?"
A deadpan look; an eyebrow slowly arching.
"But you're super hot and smart and Abby had it coming?"
"Exactly, thanks. You got everything down?"
"Yup! Even rehearsed it and all."
"Dork. Alright, then we're all set. Tomorrow, Abby with the redhead is going down like the sack of manure that she is."
"Yay! Can I get a kiss now?"
"My god, you're worse than a prepubescent boy."
Hazel eyes darted back and forth as she made her way down the bustling hallways of Erickson.
People shot her looks as she went, and they were met with confusion and no small degree of mistrust. There were whispers and even some giggles, which only added to the strange aura floating around.
People parted like the red sea as she made her way to her locker, and soon Rowan found out why.
There, running the length of her locker, was the word 'bitch' in bright, pink spray paint.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and counted to ten before making a beeline for the principal's office, face red with barely contained emotions.
"I need to speak with principal Wilkes, please."
"I'm sorry, miss Anderson, but he's not available right now."
"Oh. Well, I think he'll make himself available once he hears someone has defaced my locker in a very, very bold manner." Her voice rose with each word, until she was all but screaming at the end. It was loud enough that the single door behind the gaping secretary opened in a hurry.
"What was that, miss Anderson?"
The school was pretty silent not long after.
They had waited until the second period to announce all students were to be held in the classrooms until further notice.
It had taken quite a bit of acting and a lot of talking on Rowan's part to make sure the principal didn't act immediately. She needed to buy Taylor some time to put the last pieces in place.
'Most delincuentes around aren't all that smart.'
'I don't know why anyone would do something so vile.'
'Maybe the security cameras caught something?'
Oh yeah, if engineering didn't work out, Rowan was certain she could make it as an actress.
One by one both the staff and security team searched lockers and backpacks for clues, the next step would be searching the dorms, but they didn't need to, and as a high pitched voice broke the silence, Rowan fought not to smile outwardly.
"Miss Wesker, please, stop your flailing.
"But I didn't do anything!"
She hoped Charlie got to see her go down.
"I'm sorry, miss Anderson. What that girl did was completely out of line and a flagrant violation of school rules. Principal Wilkes will call your parents to explain and apologize for the terrible transgression."
"Well, there are worse fates than being suspended, I suppose. I'm glad she wasn't expelled."
"Only thanks to you, miss Anderson." The woman smiled, and Rowan mirrored it with a barely there tilt of her lips. She still had to sell it, after all. "Her parents were less than thrilled, agreed that they didn't want her home for the break. Two weeks worth of on campus suspension should give her enough time to think about her actions."
"I hope so, it would be a shame to see her stray from the path of success."
"You're all too good, Rowan. Go back to class, and I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving break, dear."
"You as well, Mrs. Duran."
"So, I heard someone spray painted your locker, Anderson."
"Ugh, if you're here to make fun of me then go bother somebody else, Rose."
"Damn girl, I'm just tryna strike up a conversation."
Classes were done for the day and most students were still gathered outside sharing their plans for the break. The good thing about being in a private school was how they usually got longer breaks, and Thanksgiving was no different. It was only Tuesday and they were free to go home, only expected back in time for class on Monday morning.
As she approached her room with Taylor still trailing behind at a respectable distance, she stopped before walking inside. Nobody was paying them any mind.
She grabbed Taylor by the tie and dragged her inside her room with a devious smile, locking the door behind them.
She felt like celebrating.
Spray paint; eighteen dollars.
Linen gloves in small; twenty one dollars.
Getting back at Abby for hurting Charlie, well…