Chapter Text
-Grace’s POV-
Grace pushed her hair back, pinning two butterfly clips in the front and two in the back. The gentle brunette waves cascaded down her shoulders, framing her face. She zipped up her jeans and pulled a pink striped sweater over her head. She looked in the mirror once more, checking her appearance. Perfect. As perfect as she could be, at least. She knew it was impossible for humans to be perfect, but it didn’t stop her from trying. If I’m good enough, she thought, maybe they won’t notice the rest of me.
Grace had always been different. At first it was small things. Not fitting in. Missing social cues. And then it was a really big thing. Something so big that her parents had to turn their lives upside-down and move four towns over.
Grace was a girl. She always knew she was a girl. Other people, not so much. It took her parents a while to adjust, but it took them even longer to stop losing their minds every time someone misgendered her. They didn’t mean it, she’d say, it was just a harmless mistake. Once they had accepted that she was their daughter, it really pissed them off when someone called her their son.
So they ended up moving to Hatchetfield. New town, new people. Grace also had new clothes, a new room, and a new body. Well, not entirely new. Hormones could only do so much. But it was good enough. Great, even. Everyone there had met her as who she was - a girl. No one had to find out how hard she worked for people to understand that.
Even though they were supportive, Grace’s parents were still Christian. And her being their daughter meant she had to be Christian too. She had to be chaste until she was married - a good and holy girl. Easy enough.
Grace enrolled into Hatchetfield High School in her Sophomore year, excited to meet new people. People who didn’t know. And people who, hopefully, if they found out, would be more understanding than the last ones. Everything went smoothly. She was a social outcast, but not for the reason she was worried about. People didn’t love her constant preaching about chastity and repentance. But, that was something she could control. If that was the reason people hated her, so be it. Not because of who she was, but because of what she did. She had never felt so happy to be left out.
So, she made friends with the other social outcasts. Friends is sort of an exaggeration, but they spent their lunches together - if only out of necessity at first. Ruth Fleming, Richie Lipshitz, and Peter Spankoffski. Ruth was a horny freak, but she was funny sometimes. Richie was an anime nerd (weeb, as he called it) but he had good movie recommendations and was thankfully less overtly sexual than Ruth - although it was a low bar. Pete, though, was different. She wasn’t really sure why he didn’t fit in. Sure, he was smart, kind of a science and math nerd, but he wasn’t that bad. She tried asking about it once, but he would only mention it had something to do with some middle school rumors. She didn’t pry.
At first she was still partially homeschooled, her parents giving her an opportunity to adjust before they threw her in the deep end, but the transfer ended up going quite smoothly. By the end of Sophomore year she was in school full time, and even had a few friends.
So now she was in her junior year, with perfect grades, perfect attendance, and was a part of several school programs. She was an assistant hall monitor and office hand, and could very well become salutatorian. Everything was perfect. That was, until she met Stephanie Lauter.
“And that, Ruth, is why Attack On Titan is superior to Star Wars in every possible way!” Richie finished, pointing a french fry at Ruth to end out his point. This entire discussion had started because Ruth made a Princess Leia reference, causing Richie to go on a long rant about some anime he liked. Grace was sort of checked out of the conversation, having seen neither Star Wars nor Attack On Titan. She didn’t dare say that, though, as she knew it would convince the group they needed to show her them. It wasn’t really her thing, and she wasn’t allowed to watch anything above a G rating anyways. So she said nothing, content to half-listen as she picked at her peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Grace looked up to check the time on the cafeteria’s clock, worried about not being early to her next class. But as she did, her gaze landed on someone she hadn’t seen before. She was relatively new, so this wasn’t a surprise, but there was something about this specific person she couldn’t ignore.
“Hey, who’s that?” Grace said to the group, still not looking away from the mystery girl. She was standing next to two cheerleaders, long brunette hair with bleached tips cascading over her shoulders. Peter looked up from his lunch, following her gaze.
“Her?” He asked, gesturing with his head, not wanting to point. Grace nodded.
“Yeah, green flannel. I’ve never seen her before.” She looked away from the girl at last, forcing her eyes back to her friends.
“That’s Stephanie Lauter.” Richie answered, a strong emphasis on the T’s in her name “She’s the mayor’s daughter.” Grace paused.
“Really?” She asked, incredulous. “But she’s so… alternative.” She said the last word tentatively. She didn’t know how else to describe Steph’s grunge-y style, her eyes lined with dark liner and shadow, nails painted black. A complete foil to the man in the campaign commercials she had seen on TV.
“Yeah,” Ruth butted in. “She’s like a total popular kid. I don’t know if it’s because of her dad or what but everyone’s obsessed with her.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“Huh.” Grace said, eyes travelling back to Stephanie, taking her in. She was now on her phone, a silvery thing that complimented her black nails.
So it began.
“You’re late, Lauter.” Grace said, passing Stephanie in the hallway.
“So are you, Chastity.” Stephanie replied, emphasizing the change in last name. Grace hated the nickname, a play on her surname and her chasteness. She was almost one-hundred percent sure Stephanie was the one who came up with it, but that was no matter.
“No, I’m not.” Grace continued, snidely. “I’m the hall monitor. And you have detention.” She said, smiling and handing Stephanie a pink slip with her signature on it. Stephanie rolled her eyes.
Two weeks later, Grace walked through the halls, surveying her section of the school. She came across Stephanie Lauter smoking in a back hall, leaning out of a small window.
“This school is a strictly no-smoking zone, Stephanie.” Grace said, already reaching in her pocket to alert the administration. Skipping class was one thing, but drug use was an immediate visit to the principal’s office. The girl just rolled her eyes, tossing the cigarette out the window. This just frustrated Grace even more.
“Littering is also against the rules!” She almost shouted, face becoming gradually more red. “Once I report this, you’re going to be in huge trouble.” She narrowed her eyes at Stephanie, taking in her smug look.
“Give it up, Chastity. You know I’m just going to get out of it anyways.” Steph said, smirking and shrugging her shoulders. “Have you ever seen me at those detentions you give out?” She asked. Grace paused. “Right. Because I always avoid it, some way or another.”
Grace looked like she might have an aneurysm.
“It’s just because you’re the mayor's daughter.” She said, spitting out the words. Steph’s face flashed with something that could almost be seen as resentment, but it went away as soon as it appeared, quickly returning to her regular poker face.
“Whatever.” Steph replied lamely, rolling her eyes. Grace knew the administration was most likely on their way, so she didn’t bother getting a detention slip out of her back pocket.
“Those cancer sticks are going to kill you someday.” Grace said plainly, sneering.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you actually cared about me, Chastity.” Steph replied, batting her eyelashes in fake flattery. Grace turned tomato red, angry. She sputtered for a second, unable to think of one of her usual quips. At last, she turned on her heel, storming away. Steph rolled her eyes, smiling in victory. She pulled another cigarette out of her pocket, lighting it with a new kind of spark in her eyes.