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She wasn't panicking.
She was a St. Trinian's girl. She was a Fritton. Therefore, she was not panicking.
Her heart was pounding and she was gasping for breath because she'd just run all the way to the roof, that was all.
The roof was suspiciously empty. At any other school, nobody visible on the roof would have meant the roof was abandoned. That there were no lookouts posted at the highest point of the tower meant that the roof was anything but.
Annabelle raised her hand to smooth her hair out of her face, and at the last moment remembered to twist instead of fingercombing. Chelsea had been pointed about the proper care of curls the last time Annabelle had been nervous enough to worry at her hair.
Come to think of it, Annabelle had been doing much the same thing then as now. "Kelly?" she called, trying not to sound timid. St. Trinian's. Fritton.
A pale hand shot out around the edge of a chimney, a bottle of Talisker 10 gripped delicately but firmly in the fingers.
"Kelly!" Annabelle scolded, rounding the chimney with a frown. "That's too nice of a scotch to be slugging from the bottle."
Some part of her brain noted that her sense of propriety had become a bit...mangled. She wasn't sure if it was an improvement or not, but at least it was still there.
"'S too nice a scotch to be wasting on a ten o'clock drunk," Kelly mused, lips pursing as she inspected the half-empty bottle. "But I can't abide straight vodka, and I value my health too much to drink anything the First Years make. Though. That would have made this a much faster process."
"You want to black out on the roof, then?" Annabelle snorted and plucked the bottle out of Kelly's grip before sitting next to her. She took as delicate of a sip as she could, which mostly meant trying not to choke and lose any scotch down her chin.
She really preferred glasses for scotch. She was still figuring out how to drink out of bottles like they weren't coke.
Kelly hummed and let her head fall back to rest against the brick. "That's the idea."
"Did you know we're having a party at the end of the year?" Annabelle blurted. Kelly tensed up and reached for the bottle, pouting when Annabelle kept it out of reach. "I mean, I didn't. Is that normal? My aunt's insisting I have a date, Kelly. How am I supposed to get a date for a party in just a few weeks?"
Kelly lunged straight across Annabelle for the bottle, taking a much less delicate sip of the scotch without bothering to pull away. Annabelle, half crushed into an embrace, watched her throat work, smelling good scotch and hair product and expensive lipstick, and swallowed herself.
"Haven't a clue," Kelly said, taking another swallow. "Sneak out and bat your lashes at a cute boy? That'd probably work. If it doesn't, ask a Totty." She blinked, pulling back enough to frown at Annabelle. "Why didn't you go to a Totty first? They're the experts on...well, dating is part of it." Her mouth quirked.
"I don't really want a date," Annabelle admitted, biting her lip and looking at her own knees. "Miss Fritton says I'd be letting the family name down if I don't have one, though."
"That's a load of rubbish," Kelly sighed, slumping in against Annabelle's side and taking another pull from the bottle.
"So's getting wasted on good scotch before noon." Annabelle rolled her eyes and stole the bottle back again, setting it down on the ground by her thigh. "What's wrong?"
Kelly Jones had it together. It was one of the pillars of Annabelle's existence: never trust the attention span of the First Years, the teachers could never be trusted, and Kelly Jones never showed weakness. Even viciously hungover all she did was put on her best lipstick and her highest heels and rap down the halls like a queen.
Kelly rasped a laugh. "That party?" She rolled her head so she could see Annabelle and waited for her nod before adding "I have to plan it. It's an Old Girls' Supper."
Annabelle frowned. "Like a reunion?"
"Old head girls," Kelly corrected, eyeing the bottle. "Mostly, at least. They'll roast me alive if it doesn't go off well. Or if I haven't done a good enough job. Or if they're bored. I don't really know," she moaned, and Annabelle's universe tilted a little more. "I just know that this year has been a disaster, and there's no way I'm getting out of this alive."
"So...you need to hide, then?" Annabelle frowned. There was something tickling at her mind--not just Kelly's hair from where her head had fallen onto Annabelle's shoulder, but some sort of idea. "Can you just . . not be here?"
Kelly straightened up with a disapproving noise and shook her head. "Have to be there in case something goes wrong. No getting around it."
Annabelle picked up the bottle, taking a sip, then put it down again as far away as she could reach. Hopefully too far for Kelly to grab. "I have an idea."
"Hm?"
"I think we both need to be sober, first."
"Oh, fine."
-----
Four hours later, having attended precisely none of their lessons and currently mysteriously absent from hockey, Kelly was sitting cross-legged at the head of her bed, hair wrapped up in a towel and a strong cup of tea between her hands. Annabelle was at the other end of the bed, chewing at her lip and squeezing her hands together.
"Are you...asking me out?" Kelly asked, sounding not-quite amused.
"It's just for the party," Annabelle huffed, picking at the hem of her skirt. "But think about it. If you show up to the party in trousers and, well." She grimaced, eyeing the towel. "Shorter hair."
"I wouldn't exactly look like Head Girl," Kelly mused, tilting her head to one side. "It could work. We'll have to consult an expert, though."
-----
"You'll need a binder," Chelsea said matter-of-factly, rifling through her clothes. She was wearing a peach and rose basque and not very much else. Like any Posh Totty worth anything--and Chelsea was--what she was wearing and what she was saying had nothing whatever to do with one another. "And something for the front of your trou. A shirt would be a tell-all with your waist, though. You're going to have to either wear a blazer all night, or get a waistcoat."
She pursed her lips, looking away from the wisps of lace, satin and feathers she was perusing to eye Kelly's torso critically. "Waistcoat, I think. And a bit of padding under the shirt. You should get Peaches to do your makeup. We'll have to make your lips less pink, at the very least." She shrugged, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It won't be easy, but it's doable."
Annabelle waited until they were out of earshot before hissing, "Chelsea is your cross-dressing expert?"
"Don't ask," Kelly smirked, "or I'll tell you."
------
"Oh, dear me. That won't do."
Annabelle's head jerked up, startled. Kelly tensed, but tried to focus on her movements, shifting her weight to her right while swinging her left side back in a cocky half-turn. She thought it was decent, but Annabelle grimaced and looked at where she'd...braced her hand on her hip, elbow pushed out and hip cocked up. Damn.
Miss Fritton tsked them and flowed closer. "This won't do at all." She shook her head and pinned them both with a disapproving stare. "Girls, you really should have come to me immediately if you were having problems."
"Yes Miss," they chorused. It was almost reflex for Kelly, by now.
Nodding decisively, Miss Fritton stepped in and adjusted Kelly's shoulders. "Now. You need to stop thinking so much. Just imagine your weight's all in your shoulders and the front of your pants. We'll start with your walk."
-----
"I'm not sure I can watch this."
Annabelle was biting her lip in the mirror, and Kelly quirked an eyebrow at her. "It's not your hair."
"I know, but." The noise Annabelle made was somewhere between a whine and a groan. "It's my fault. I suggested it."
"Whatevah," Taylor sighed, rolling her eyes. "Can I get started now or what?"
Kelly met Annabelle's eyes in the mirror and smiled. "Absolutely. Take it off."
-----
Kelly decided that it'd be fun to do a dress rehearsal with the whole package for Flash. It wasn't a bad idea. His reaction would be priceless (the Geeks had already set up the cameras), and it'd give them a reasonable bead on how well Kelly could pass as a boy. At least in the short term.
If Flash didn't recognize her, there'd only be a few Old Girls who even might pose a threat to their little scheme. (Chelsea swore she had JJ in hand, even though she rolled her eyes and pouted that it wasn't necessary, whenever the subject came up.)
And of course, Annabelle had been there the whole way. She'd been there for getting all the parts of the suit and making sure they fit, for the hair, for the acting lessons. She'd listened to Kelly read aloud for hours, figuring out by trial and error what inflections and tones sounded feminine or masculine.
But they hadn't put the whole thing together, before. Kelly was still Kelly, just with shorter hair.
This wasn't Kelly.
The boy lounging against the bargaining table was sharp, smirking like he could cut glass with it. His arms were loosely braced against the table, legs crossed at the ankle. His suit was all shades of grey, with the red waistcoat the only nod to colors that didn't include the words' charcoal' or 'dove'. He couldn't be further from Kelly Jones, with her perfect poise and sharp contrasts.
Except in the quiet sense that everything in the room was his, but Annabelle wasn't sure Kelly could get rid of that if she tried.
Flash froze when he came in, and Kelly grinned as he started flailing and demanding to know who she was. The irony of Flash demanding to know if Kelly knew this was a girls' school was...
Annabelle was glad they'd have a recording of it.
Eventually, Kelly stood up and crossed the space to Flash. "We need something special this time. Caviar, smoked salmon, pâtés. Anything that looks like high class nibbles. You can do that for us, can't you Flash?"
That was a classic Kelly line, but Flash scowled and puffed up instead of jumping to her bidding. "Hey now, I don't work for you. I am performing a service, thank you very much. And it's not for you. I don't have anything to do with--"
He broke off as she started laughing, which didn't sound like anything but Kelly Jones.
"Kelly?" Flash squinted, then recoiled as though she'd slapped him. The twins stepped up to help Kelly to a wall to make sure she wouldn't fall over.
There were explanations going on in the background, but Annabelle couldn't take her eyes off Kelly. The way her head was thrown back exposed her throat above the collar, and the way she was clutching at her sides ruined the effect of the padding they'd given her waist.
She looked glorious, and all Annabelle wanted was to finish the picture with a lipstick that would match her waistcoat.
-----
Annabelle froze halfway through counting off the cans of caviar Flash had procured by way of a case of St. Trinian's Gin. "I'm what?"
"You're going to be the hostess," Kelly repeated, casually inspecting a wine glass. "I'll need to know the instant anything goes wrong, and it would look rather odd if problems were being reported to Miss Fritton's niece's date, wouldn't it?" She set the glass back down with a smirk. "Problems being reported to the hostess, however, is just natural."
"Oh, I see. So they'll roast me alive instead of you?"
"Don't be silly. Just be yourself and mention being forced into the position by the head girl a few times and we'll be fine."
Annabelle scoffed and set the clipboard down harder than she probably should have. Which is why she was checking off the caviar, safe in tins, instead of the glassware. "So, what. Panicky, nervous, out of my depth? Is that what you're expecting?"
Kelly pursed her lips at a champagne flute mixed in with the chardonnay glasses, then carefully smoothed it out into a faint smile and a raised eyebrow. She needed to remember not to draw attention to her mouth. "I'm expecting 'charming', actually."
The noise Annabelle made in response to that sounded like she was rolling her eyes with her throat. Kelly made a mental note to figure out how she did it. "Oh come off it."
"I'm being perfectly serious," Kelly sniffed, moving the champagne flute to the side until it could join its brethren. "What are you going to be wearing, anyway? There isn't--what."
The look Annabelle was giving her over the caviar was blank terror. "I haven't. I mean. We've been so busy with."
"Fuck."
A scoffing laugh drew their attention to the door, where Andrea was leaning with an amused smirk. "I've got the perfect thing. C'mon," she jerked her head back toward the hall and wandered off.
Annabelle turned back to her, and Kelly shrugged. "Worth looking."
She didn't hear anything more, outside of Taylor bitching about needing to adjust the bust and a blushing Annabelle throwing a reassurance in passing.
-----
The school was spotless and shining, and they'd only had to replace the warning sign on the still in the chemistry lab three times. Now that the nonparticipants had been corralled in the kitchen, hopefully that particular trial was over with.
"I thought you were crazy when you put Chelsea and Polly in charge of the decorations," Annabelle admitted, staring up at the slowly shifting panels of fabric hanging from the ceiling. The fans the Geeks had set up kept moving, giving the whole room the impression of being under the ocean.
A sheer pink ocean, but still.
As Polly had pointed out, it served the extra purpose of dulling the light a bit.
Faint steps approached as Kelly finished the last round of instructions to the younger Geeks who were helping out behind the scenes. They scurried off, and Annabelle cleared her throat softly."Are we actually ready?"
Kelly scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. The twins blew up the gate this morning, and I'm fairly sure the punch is spiked." She turned to collect her 'date' and stopped cold.
Andrea had, indeed, had the perfect thing. A one armed dress in deep, shimmering crimson and trimmed in black crystals around the neck. Under the pink light, her skin looked flawless and there was so much of it on display. She was wearing more makeup than normal, but it was obvious that she'd gotten Celia's help with that; a mostly natural look with her eyes lightened and Kelly would swear that was her lipstick on Annabelle's lips.
They'd make a stunning pair. Even more-so than usual.
Annabelle tossed a wistful look at the punch bowl, and Kelly caught her arm with a firm hand. "From their still."
Annabelle grimaced. "Well...maybe everyone will pass out before dinner is served." Kelly swallowed a panicked laugh and Annabelle smiled, slipping her arm out of Kelly's grip and placing her hand lightly in the crook of Kelly's elbow. "I think you've got our roles reversed again."
"I should leave anyway," Kelly pointed out. "Your date probably shouldn't live at a girls' school."
"I don't think Auntie would have minded if he'd stayed the night, though." Annabelle grinned impishly at Kelly's laugh and ducked her head, hiding her expression behind a wall of curls. "But you're right. Appearances and all."
"Yes. Appearances."
The speculative lilt to that earned Kelly a suspicious glance from Annabelle, but really. It was too late to change their game plan now.
-----
The Old Girls were terrifying. Most of them took one look at the punch and smiled before turning away. Only Matron and the history teacher were drinking it, and Matron was already showing the effects.
Nobody had ever seen Miss Ravenwood so much as slur a syllable; even the First Years had given up betting on what it would take for her to get drunk. Whole generations of First Years had had to give up on that pool. Miss Ravenwood didn't teach every year, and it had taken Polly weeks to come up with an algorithm that predicted where she spent her off years.
Miss Dickinson, who had defeated the odds on her own pool, had been offered the chance to retire to the teachers' wing and spend a quiet evening with a book and some cocoa, and had instead taken charge of the cross-faction coalition attempting to keep the First Years out of the party. (Kelly had, regretfully, declined Andrea's offer to drug them all into submission.)
The attempt had, thus far, been as technology-heavy if less high-stakes than The Heist. The Geeks were running the surveillance, the Posh Totties were in charge of distractions, and the Chavs were the ones actually chasing down the escapees.
The twins had assured Kelly that they wouldn't be starting anything. They had some research to do.
At this point, watching several of their guests stalking carefully around one another with sharp smiles and (almost certainly) hidden weaponry was a relief.
"I believe I'm supposed to check in with you?"
Both of them nearly jumped but Annabelle was the first to turn, a forced smile stretching her face. "Um, yes! Hello! Welcome back to St. Trinians. I'm. Ah."
"Annabelle Fritton." The woman smiled, slow and deliberate and only just barely short of a smirk, and offered her hand. "Your aunt and I exchange letters. She included a newspaper clipping about your discovery of the painting, in the last one. It had a photo."
She was older than everyone else in the room, excepting possibly Miss Fritton, but exquisitely put together. The silver trim on her dress made the grey in her hair sparkle, and the pale cream of the rest of it made her hair look darker and complimented her skin tone. She was sly elegance from head to toe, and she knew it.
Annabelle recovered with aplomb, giving their guest a sheepish but honest smile. "Yes! Sorry, you just startled u--me. I didn't see you come in."
"Why thank you," the woman's smile spread, creating fans of delight next to her eyes. "Good to know I haven't lost my touch."
One of the Geeks circled behind her with a palm pilot, apparently doing a camera check. So it wasn't just the two of them who'd missed her arrival.
Annabelle laughed and pressed a little closer to Kelly's side. "No problem. So, we're supposed to announce the guests, to help people get in touch. Do you--"
"Emma!" Miss Fritton descended on their little huddle, catching their newest guest in a light embrace. "Oh, my dear, I was so hoping you'd make it."
Emma grinned, turning to wink at Annabelle and Kelly. "Oh, Camilla. I wouldn't have missed it for anything."
"Jolly good." Miss Fritton turned back to them with a pleasant, if slightly vague smile. "I'll take care of Mrs. Peel for you. She's not precisely an Old Girl, but I know who she knows. Ha-hah."
Miss Fritton and her friend walked off, heads bowed together as they made their way past where Chelsea had distracted JJ French with a bottle of extremely expensive champagne and a question about properly juggling suitors. The discussion had expanded to five other guests and was looking like it might attract one of the stalking cats.
Kelly owed Chelsea something expensive. Possibly something illegal.
-----
A grand total of five guests so far had used the front door. Only the fact that she was very actively not being Head Girl kept Kelly from grinning triumphantly whenever someone commented on an oddly placed welcome mat wherever they'd come in.
Door-using guest number six was a problem.
Catastrophe was probably more appropriate.
She'd gone by Beatrice when she'd left, but Kelly had no idea what her name was now. She had been one of the first to straddle the line between the Posh Totties and the Geeks, who had still been a fairly new faction of importance when she'd chosen her sides. There weren't any doubts about their place in the hierarchy when Beatrice had left.
Kelly doubted that the man at her side was a date, even if he was impeccably dressed aside from his decision to keep his umbrella in hand.
Annabelle pulled Kelly forward with a bright smile, completely oblivious to her date's alarm. "Hello. Welcome back to St. Trinian's! I'm Annabelle Fritton, the hostess for this evening."
Beatrice smiled slowly at Annabelle, her head dipping politely. "It's nice to meet you, Annabelle. But I was under the impression Miss Fritton's niece had a year to go yet? Surely you can't be Head Girl."
Kelly tried to keep a polite but bored expression on her face, but the faint smirk Beatrice's not-date was giving her implied she was failing.
"Oh, I'm not," Annabelle said, keeping up their usual charade with ease and rolling her eyes. "Kelly asked me to host because she had other business to attend to. Well." Annabelle scrunched her nose up. "Asked might not be the right word."
Beatrice laughed and stepped in to give Annabelle a light one armed hug, ignoring the way Annabelle stiffened in surprise against her. "Oh, that sounds like Kelly. Always has a scheme going on the side, that girl."
Then Beatrice looked right at her and winked, another slow smile spreading over her face. "It's why I figured she'd make a good Head Girl. But, if you'll excuse us, one of our employees seems to be misbehaving."
They disappeared into the crowd, despite the crowd not being all that crowded, without giving their names or being introduced. Not that that seemed to matter for a few of the guests. The three Kelly had pegged as intelligence, and one other, had all either pointedly split apart or disappeared entirely.
Polly appeared next to them, and waited placidly through Kelly's flinch and until Annabelle had stopped frowning. Neither of them were accustomed to Polly looking more Totty than...well, Polly. Or Polly in heels at all, really. She was terrifyingly tall.
Chelsea had wanted glitter and feathers to go with the draperies. The makeover was their compromise. Kelly hoped Polly kept the designer frames; they did amazing things for her bone structure.
"Pretend we're discussing the punch," Polly said, waving a tiny notebook around negligently, not bothering to look at it. "Want me to stay with Janet? Or whatever name she's using now, my files haven't been able to keep up." She didn't quite roll her eyes. "We've had a bit of a mess this year."
Polly's flair for understatement was a never-ending source of entertainment, and Kelly automatically relaxed. She pushed her arm against Annabelle's grip to indicate agreement, and Annabelle gave her arm a short squeeze even as she was smiling up at Polly and nodding. "That sounds perfect."
"I'll put one of my girls on logistics." Polly gave them a smug little smile and strode away, towering over the crowd on her way to the kitchen.
Annabelle leaned in close to Kelly with a shy, flirtatious smile. (Kelly's heart did not skip a beat. At all.) "Janet?"
"Last door guest," Kelly whispered back. "She used Be...a different name, before." She squeezed Annabelle's hand against her side with her elbow. "I'll explain later."
That got her a huff of annoyance, but Annabelle shrugged and dropped it, honing in on another guest almost immediately.
This one was coming down the hall from the north side, but didn't have a trace of wet or mud on her heels. Neither did the man with her, who filled out his dinner jacket in a remarkably distracting fashion. They were both dressed more formally than any of the other guests, and neither his dinner jacket or her gold silk dress seemed suitable for climbing. And yet.
Kelly turned to hide a smile in Annabelle's curls before they started walking. "Upstairs. History or religions."
Annabelle smiled and shook her head with a quiet "No bet," before turning her smile toward their guests and moving to intercept them.
-----
The dinner went well, even with the exploding puddings. (Kelly was going to have words with the twins once everyone was gone.)
Once the last of the chocolate had been wiped off the table and the titters had died down a bit, Miss Fritton cleared her throat and stood up, tapping her spoon against the rim of what should have been a glass of port but looked more like a Gerald. Matron was obviously doing better than Kelly had thought. "Attention. Attention everyone."
The entire room had quieted when Miss Fritton had swayed gracefully to her feet, but she wouldn't have been Miss Fritton if she didn't take every possible moment to go a little overboard.
"As most of you know, this has been an exceptional year for our beloved school," she began. "We traveled the harsh road from crisis to redemption, then tripped head first into glorious success, solving a pesky financial mishap while also proving our beloved school's worth as an institute of education."
There was a brief round of applause, and Miss Fritton smiled beatifically out at them. "Of course, none of this would have been possible, let alone happened, without the exceptional leadership of our Head Girl, Kelly Jones. And as most of you know, this dinner has been in her honour."
Kelly blinked slowly, and shot a quick sideways glance at Annabelle, who just shrugged helplessly in response.
"I believe it's only fitting, for such an astonishing show of bravery and loyalty, to return the favor. So once we've all finished cleaning ourselves up after that delightful surprise of a dessert, Kelly and a few of the other girls will be available to answer questions and accept job offers." Miss Fritton smiled slyly and winked in the direction of Chelsea, Annabelle and, incidentally, Kelly. "Of course, a few of the girls have a year of school left, or more, so keep that in mind! Now. To the library with the teachers and graduates, so the girls have a moment to panic. Up now, come on," she encouraged with a few brisk claps, setting several chairs to scrape back in a hurry.
"Oh, and of course," Miss Fritton called out, interrupting the sudden slow flurry of footsteps. "If you happen to already know who's who in the current events and where to find them, I assume you're aware that you have a bit of advantage. I would, of course, advise that you use that wisely."
The crowd resumed its flow out, though a few were moving a bit slower, making eye contact across the tables or pausing to rest a hand against a shoulder. Polly was swamped immediately. Amusingly, she gave more than a few of them an affronted glare and nodded toward Chelsea, who raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips in a way that suggested she was superbly not amused.
Kelly got a glimpse of two guests who were casually slipping into the kitchen. The woman who'd come in through the history classroom and her date, she thought.
No one approached Kelly, though. Or Annabelle who, after all, hadn't played much of a role in the heist itself from an outside perspective, and had burned the bridge of her most actively useful contact behind her.
Which was absolutely unfair to Annabelle, but Kelly supposed they could fix that if they were going to be answering questions. Which...honestly, if she'd known that, she might not have gone to her own congratulations meal in drag.
A light hand touched her shoulder as the last of the guests were slipping out, and Kelly turned in her seat quickly, only to find herself squinting up at Beatrice's not-date.
He smiled vaguely down at her and nodded politely. "We'll see you shortly, Miss Jones. My assistant speaks very highly of you."
Once he was gone, there were only classmates left in the room. Most of the eyes turned to her in alarm or concern.
Kelly opted to take a moment for herself and let her head thunk down against the table. At her side, Annabelle offered a comforting pat. "Alright everybody," Annabelle called out in a clear, firm voice, and Kelly decided that she did, in fact, love her just a bit. "Everybody who played a significant role in the heist, gather over here. Everyone else, get a start on helping with the clean up."
There were groans all around until Kelly lifted her head and backed Annabelle up with a glare. "Don't make me start taking my title seriously."
So far as Kelly knew, there had never been a Head Girl who actually collected heads. Not from the student body, at any rate. Still, it was a marvelous motivator.
-----
"You're going to take up a life of crime, aren't you," Annabelle quipped, landing on Kelly's bed with a bounce. She was dressed for bed, her hair still wrapped in a towel.
The alarmingly short hair Kelly had now was good for that much, at least. Her hair was practically dry before she'd even made her way back to the dorm. Chloe had already offered to trim it back into something more feminine, at least until she had the time to make the trip out to her stylist.
"I am strongly considering it," Kelly confirmed. It was only partially a lie. Some of the other offers had been interesting as well as generous. She'd be a fool not to give them her full consideration. But.
Annabelle laughed, shaking her head and swatting Kelly's hip, grinning down at her. "Come off it. They want you to practice high-end theft while you're at uni. I saw that sparkle in your eye when you got to explain The Heist. You'd love it."
Kelly smirked but didn't bother denying it. "I am thinking about my other options. It wouldn't be fair not to."
Annabelle hummed disbelievingly. "Life of crime."
"I'm fairly certain my employer would be the government."
"Theft is theft," Annabelle chirped, before her smile grew wicked and sharp. "You'd probably just get to call it espionage."
Kelly smiled and pushed at Annabelle's side. The other girl laughed and finally flopped down on the bed next to her.
"This was kind of weirdly fun," she said, sounding the words out carefully and rubbing her hands together. Sure signs of a nervous Annabelle.
Humming agreement, Kelly turned her head and raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Annabelle, just to watch her blush.
"Well, I mean, aside from the whole puddings and the terror and that one little fire. But really, it would have felt weird if there hadn't been a fire, don't you think?"
Kelly smiled. It had been less than a year, and Annabelle was already a St. Trinian's girl to the bone. "Yeah. It would have."
Annabelle grinned, but her fingers were still rubbing. "Yeah. So, um. Would you... I mean, do you think it'd be fun to...do that again? Sometime?"
"Host an Old Girls' Supper?" She laughed as Annabelle swatted her arm.
"No. I meant. ...being my date?"
Her voice was practically a squeak by the end, and Kelly didn't need to look up to know that they had the full attention of probably at least half the girls around them.
Kelly pursed her lips (and oh, she was so glad she didn't have to monitor how she was emoting anymore. it was exhausting) and stared at Annabelle until the other girl finally turned her attention down from the apparently riveting ceiling to look at her instead. "I'd rather not do the whole drag thing, next time."
Annabelle's face lit up and she turned onto her side to face Kelly completely. "Absolutely. You look so...not you without lipstick. Well, when you're not, you know, here, anyway."
Smiling, Kelly rolled up on her side and leaned in to kiss her new girlfriend.
They ignored the flurry of shouting at the end of the dorm, as the more maths-inclined of the First Years started reconciling their books on a particular betting pool. The triumphant crowing as several little girls made out like bandits was harder to ignore.
Kelly was going to kill them all.
Later.