Post by cooltubesource on Sept 21, 2018 20:39:22 GMT -5
~~Saturday, September 22nd, 2018~~
Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan sat in the chair of the waiting room with a pile of books on her lap, a backpack full of more next to her, and a highly annoyed wife sitting on the other side. Every book was baby-themed in some way.
Mommy and Me
What to Expect When You’re Expecting
A Billion Baby Names
Today’s Baby Fashion
Over the prior week, Sarah had been reading every book and article she could get her perfectly-manicured hands on that had anything to do with babies, pregnancy, and child-rearing. Since losing their Co Op championships on Monday, which she was extremely proud of Angie over, she had been using all of her free time with her nose in a book while she tried to switch over to e-cigarettes. Which HIGHLY annoyed her, because NONE of the ones she had tried tasted ANYTHING like a cigarette, and she had spent her ENTIRE Lacklanland allowance on the luxury pens from Sensi and now she couldn't afford the cute-as-fuck hairband she saw earlier today.
“...this is so stupid...”
She had stopped listening to Kenzi’s grumblings days ago. Questions like, “Why are you looking at baby names?! FIVE YEARS IS A LONG WAY AWAY!” now fell upon deaf ears. Sarah was quite aware that their agreement of her becoming pregnant did not come into play for five years, but why wait to become a master at being a mother? She was going to be THE BEST mother there had ever been! She was going to pinch the baby’s cheeks. Was going to kiss the baby’s forehead. Was going to sing the baby songs until they fell asleep. She couldn’t WAIT!
“YOU LET GO!”
“I HAD IT FIRST!”
Sarah looked up from her baby book and saw two children fighting over some toy cars. She wanted to giggle, as the one holding onto the toy car was a short blonde girl with pigtails, but did her best to not bother them. Their mother was there in a flash, telling them the be quiet, they were in public. Sarah looked around herself and took in the room she was in, a room she had seen far too many times in the last year. The waiting room for the hospital where Dr. Andrews had residency was filled with people with a wide range of ills. Some had sniffles, others looked hale, still others had clear injuries. The children were no doubt there to see Dr. Andrews’ assistant, as he had stopped seeing children many years ago.
She reached up and adjusted her glasses as she smiled at the children, her heart fluttering. She couldn’t explain her need to plan her family, not in any way people would actually understand, but it was there nonetheless. Her wife...who was being SUCH a Moody McMoodyface over the whole ordeal...had conveniently forgotten that they had actually had several conversations on the matter before. She had even had conversations with her wretched Mother-In-Law Sid over the matter. She didn’t exactly appreciate how Sid referred to the beauty of childbirth as “Shitting out a kid,” but at least she understood WHY Sarah needed to have one. She wanted to grow their family, grow their love, as well as produce an heir. Being an only child, it was her sole responsibility to keep her family line going, and so she would do her duty.
“Mrs. Grey-Lacklan?”
Sarah’s eyes snapped up at the call of her name. She wasn’t exactly sure what this appointment was for, but she had been here to many times the last few weeks that it seemed like she had a standing order to arrive. She had had several more tests since Dr. Andrews cleared her to wrestle full time, which included blood work and dreaded needles, but she couldn’t ever get a clear answer as to what they were needed for. Hopefully, this one would be the final one. Through the waiting room they went, with Sarah lugging her massive bag of pregnancy and baby books she had five years too early, with Kenzi sighing and no doubt rolling her eyes the whole way with her "100% Perfect Sar Impression," and through the doors. The usual vital signs tests she was used to, with blood pressure and weight taken (gained a couple of pounds!), and into the white room. Nervous waiting, the two trying to pass the time with games by sending each other bread gifs on Twitter, a rare occurrence where she did not utilize any of the interns she had given the morning off, but they didn’t have to wait long.
Sarah’s heart raced when she saw the look on Dr. Andrews’ face when he walked in, clipboard in hand. He was not a young man, but he looked ancient right this second, with heavy bags under his eyes and a weight pushing down on his shoulders that made him seem ready to lie down for good. He didn’t offer pleasantries and instead simply pulled up a chair, sat next to Sarah, and placed his hand on her knee.
“We need to talk.”
Sarah’s heart pounded in her ears as her doctor, who had cared for her from the moment he pulled her from her mother’s womb, told her a tale. A tale of seeing some irregularities in her blood when she went through her physical last month. A tale of requesting more blood work from here for a closer analysis, and then the X-Rays he ordered the other day. A tale of Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. A tale of ovarian cysts.
“Sarah...I am sorry to tell you this...but I don’t think you can have children.”
What little color in Sarah’s pale face drained as her blood pressure spiked. She couldn’t hear her doctor ask if she was alright, did she need some water. She didn’t feel her wife squeeze her hand. She didn’t hear her wife scream “Selena!” as she fell from her chair and crumbled to the floor.
All she knew was darkness.
The Outlast Debate
"NO!"
My eyes snap open and I immediately regret it. I slam them back shut, the pain of the sun in my eyes blinding me, and take stock of where I am. In bed...obvs...after a rough night of sleep. That was a strange nightmare...but they have ALL been that way lately. The Abyss. I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to deal with it.
I slowly open my eyes so as not to blind myself again. My vision is blurry, tobvs, but at least it doesn’t hurt this time. I reach over to my endtable and fumble around until I find my glasses, put them on my face, and allow my eyes time to adjust to the morning sun. Being an albino is difficult, and while I would never ask that I be born different, I do have to deal with limitations. My eyesight sucks and will get worse as I get older. My eyes are sensitive to bright lights. My skin burns in the sun. My terrible beauty has its cost.
I sit up in my bed and look around. My room is pretty cool. Got Guilty Pleasure posters on the wall. My My Little Pony figurine collection on the shelves. My personal library of books in their corner. All the things which matter. I slip out of bed and head to my bathroom to start the ritual. I pause to notice that, yes, I am still as beautiful today as I was yesterday, with pale skin, high cheekbones, and a pointed chin. I am like Elsa brought to life! The ritual takes as long as always, but you do what you have to do: Teeth brushed until they shine brighter than a cop’s headlights, platinum hair brushed 100 times, face cleansed with oils so expensive that my sisters entire Matchbox Car collection could be sold three times over before I got a month’s worth.
I slip into my cheerleader uniform, check myself in the mirror to confirm that, yes, I AM the wet dream of every teacher I have, and grab my bookbag. Down the stairs I go, my slippered feet being as quiet as I am graceful, and into the kitchen for breakfast with my family.
Daddy is reading this morning’s newspaper, which I still haven’t figured out why he doesn’t just read his news online like everyone ELSE in the world, but its this thing, I guess. He’s tall and strong, with a big chest and arms, and his bright white hair is down to his shoulders. I’m a little different, but I get that from him, I guess. Certainly don’t get his height! Daddy says that Mumsie was barely over five feet tall, so I guess it’s coolio that I’m taller than her.
Of course, I’m nowhere NEAR as tall as Step-Mumsie. Mary is beautiful, there is no denying that, but she doesn’t like me, and never has, from what I can remember. She was always getting in my business growing up, always telling me not to do things. “Sarah, stop sucking up to teachers to get good grades.” Or “Sarah, stop trying to beat up the Walmart employee just because they made eye contact.” Or, the WORST, “Sarah, stop picking on your sister.”
My sister Angie had her face buried in her newest Pusheen Box that came in yesterday. Step-Mumsie was HER mom, and she ALWAYS gave her things that she NEVER gave me. Okay, Angie wants that Matchbox truck even though it costs $7.01 for ONE TOY? That’s cool...Angie gets it! Oh, Angie wants to adopt a fourth cat because she’s a weirdo? That’s cool...Angie gets it! Oh, Angie was responsible and got her licence last summer while I was busy partying every night? That’s cool...Angie gets a car!
ITS ALWAYS ANGIE ANGIE ANGIE
Ugh. And she’s SO WEIRD. Look, right THIS SECOND she’s wearing a turtleneck sweater instead of showing her cleavage LIKE I TAUGHT HER. How is she EVER going to meet a cute boy when she hides the girls like that?! HAVING CATS ISN’T ENOUGH, ANGIE!
Ugh. Whatever. Breakfast is the usual, with oats in water and cage-free egg whites, because I’m a badass, while Angie eats Fruit Loops, because she still eats sugar cereals. A kiss for Daddy and a light hug for Step-Mumsie, because HEAVEN FORBID MARY HIGHTOWER LOVE ME AS MUCH AS HER REAL DAUGHTER, and we are on our way. Both Angie and I put on our matching Hello Kitty beanies that we bought on that family trip to New York when we were younger, because FUCK its cold in Maine, and into her car. Angie has been OBSESSED with getting a red corvette since we were little, and OF COURSE that was the car Step-Mumsie bought her.
We belt out Disney songs on the way to school, as per the usual, and some of our her weirdo #CatClub4Life friends meet us as we park. I don’t have time to make fun of her friends like usual, though, because I need to get to cheer practice. Mrs. Lane will be PISSED if I’m late again! So I give Angie a quick hug, smirk at how dumb Jake looks in all of his retro 80’s gear that NO ONE likes, and roll my eyes at Lizzy; the weirdo anime chick has a slice of cake in her hand. If she’s not careful, she’s going to end up as fat as Kem!
I run up to cheer practice and can’t keep the smile off my face. I love cheer. I mean, the whole “Ra Ra Go Team!” stuff is a little silly, but I’m really here for the competitive floor show in second semester, anyway. Still, I would LOATHE to let Stupid Maggie somehow take my spot, so I’m here, early every day. The squad is getting AWESOME with me as captain this year, and WAY better than when Stupid Maggie was captain when we were Juniors last year, so that’s coolio.
“Let’s go, Lacklan! Get that pale butt moving!”
Mrs. Lane’s voice caught me off guard, but it made me run faster. Mrs. Roxy Lane was a BEAST, and just about everything any cheerleader could hope to be. She was tall, at least taller than me, and she had a rack that dwarfed mine and the next three girls...combined! And her face was perfect, too, almost like it was constructed by a really horny guy to be the best a face could be. Of course, none of that compared to her heart of gold, as Mrs. Lane was clearly the sweetest and most supportive teacher in the whole school, even IF she pushed us uber hard to be the best team we could be.
“Don’t make me question making you captain, Sarah!”
“Of course not, Mrs. Lane!”
I leapt into my role as the captain and directed the girls in the day’s practice. We worked on tumbling, tossing, and cheering, and I even had the girls come up with their own ch-
“OH NO I FELL AGAIN ISN’T THAT FUNNY”
Ugh. Kem. I don’t know WHY Mrs. Lane keeps her on the team. Me an Stupid Maggie had to sew together THREE uniforms in order to get over her bulk, and she fell on her fat face every five freakin’ minutes! And don’t EVEN get me started on that time she tossed me into the airs...and then FORGOT to catch me because she was stuffing her FAT FACE with one of Lizzy’s cake pops. Thankfully, I fell on top of Stupid Maggie, and since she doesn’t care about anything, we were all good. That reminds me-
“OH NO!”
I look up just in time to see Kem fall on her fat face again. I guess that’s what she gets for trying to walk and breathe at the same time. No one bothers to help her up, obvs, because why bother? She’ll just cry a bit, get up, fall on her face, and cry some more. Its her #Thing, I guess.
Welp, practice is over and we are all on our way to class. Ugh. Stupid Maggie is walking with me.
“I don’t care about going to class. Do you? I don’t know why anyone would care about going to class. I don’t even care about graduating. You’re an idiot if you care about graduating.”
Oh Lord, here she goes again. Yes, Stupid Maggie, its SO WEIRD that people care about school. Whatev. I HATE how we have First Period together.
“ME AM THE BEST.”
I giggle as I hear a booming voice. Stupid Maggie slips away, off to a class she doesn’t care about until she gets to post on Twitter about how she got a better grade than Raab, anyway, because FUCK consistency, and turn my attention to the star running back of our team, Big Redd. I skip over and give the big lug a massive hug.
“ME THANK YOU FOR THE HUG. BUT WHY SUCH A BIG HUG? THUNDER’S RIBS HURT.”
“Thought you died, that’s all.”
He looks at me funny.
“REDD NOT DEAD. JUST GO ON VACAY.”
“Glad to hear that, buddy. Thanks for saving me from Jacob that one time last year. I don't know if I ever really thanked you for it. Hey-”
“Whatchu doin’ wit’ mah man?”
Shit. I didn’t even see Redd’s girlfriend Kenzi behind him. She slips out from behind him and flips her braids back over her shoulder. Kenzi Grey was in my history class and the star of both our step dance team and our glee club, and was real protective of Redd, as they had been dating so long that people joked they must have been together even during World War II. I took my hands off Redd and backed away.
“Nothing, Kenzi.”
“Good. Cause I don’t need no white bread and mayo-eating Becky sliding up on my man, know what I’m sayin’”
I didn’t actually know what she was saying, especially when she was hanging with her friend Cartier, but I give her one of my patented eyerolls. She stares daggers at me, and I’m ready to lay into her with some of my razor-sharp wit when we are cut off by the P.A. going off.
“This is your Icon of Entertainment, your King of Charisma, Travis Pierce, here with your morning announcements. Lunch today will be-”
I take this opportunity to sneak away from Kenzi and Redd while everyone listens to the Piercing Media Network’s presentation of what all was going on school today. Lunch was going to be meatloaf...yuck...and the band was holding auditions for jazz, which seemed kinda cool. Angie plays the clarinet...because of course she does...and Mrs. Lane once suggested I try out the flute, because she LOVES playing some flute, but I’m not sure that’s exactly what she was talking about. Maybe I-
I freeze. I’m cold. Why am I suddenly so cold? What
“...and don’t forget that the Outlast Debate is right after lunch today. You don’t want to be late!”
Travis’ voice knocks me back into the moment. What was that? What were those voices? Abyss? What’s the-
“OW!”
I feel like my shoulder go RAMMED into by a bull! I look up...and up...and UP...fuck, this dude is tall…
Ugh.
THIS guy.
“Hello, Zane.”
“Hey, Sar. You ready for the Outlast Debate today? Dean Hastings really wants us to win.”
I roll my eyes. How can I not? Zane has been Dean's Pet since the first week of Freshman year! The kiss-ass. Always at the "Lunch with The Great and Powerful Dean" weekly meetings. I don’t know WHY Zane insists on going to those things. It's not even The Great and Powerful Dean Hastings! It's just a life-size cardboard cutout! Whatev. I liked him better last year, before he grew out his hair and beard. Mama loves her some clean shaven and smooth, thank you very much.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
I point to my Chanel bookbag.
“Got my notes here.”
We talk a little more as we head into class. We had been selected to be on the Dean's team, along with my old boyfriend Lucky, but I don’t EVEN want to think about him and his freakin’ BADASS motorcycle right now. Ugh...MAN he’s hot.
“I don’t even care about being in this class. Why do you care about being in class? Caring about being in class is stupid.”
Ugh. Stupid Maggie. The only reason she’s even on my cheer squad this year is because she has cool hair. She started skipping school after she got with Lucy, the kid who got suspended after getting hooked on drugs, and her grades dropped. Of course, she “doesn’t care” about grades and “doesn’t care” about assignments, so, whatev.
“Hey Raab, did you see how much higher my grade was on last week’s paper? Nice try. Not like I care about my grades or anything.”
Ugh. She is SO fake. And poor Raab. Poor guy started losing his hair when we were 15! But its okay; if the rumors are true, he more than makes up for it in the sack. Why, Fizz said that he lasted four freakin’ hours! Good Lord! What is that even LIKE?! I can’t even IMAGINE how sore I would be-
My phone is going off. Lemme check this text-
“You okay, Sar?”
“I...um...what?”
“You looked flushed. Need some water?”
Oh jeez...I can FEEL how hot my face is. No wonder why Zane is looking at me funny. Might as well paint an A on my forehead and call me Hester! But I have to go. I have to go NOW!
“Um...I just have to use the potty. Be right back!”
“I don’t know why anyone would even care about having to use the bathroom. I don’t care about-”
Stupid Maggie’s hypocritical nonsense fades away as I rush out the door. But I blow right past the bathroom down the hall, and then another two more. I don’t have to use the potty. At least, not really. But I DO need to get to the bathroom on the far side of campus. The bathroom right next to Caretaker Necron’s office. I MUST go there. I have NO CHOICE.
Oh God, if anyone caught me…
I’m here. Right nearly RAN here. I’m out of breath. I’m-
“There’s my Becky.”
I turn around and sigh. Its all I can do. Kenzi is on top of me before I know what is happening. I feel my back slam into the wall and her lips are on my neck.
“Fuck! Not here! We’ll get caught!”
A hand slaps down on my hip and I help in pain. She laughs as she bites my neck.
“Not my problem!”
Damnit. Ever since we had that drunken hook-up at Alan’s “Ain’t I Great?!” party over the summer, I have been her slave. Kenzi was everything that I wasn’t, and it turned me on like no one’s business. I was pale white, and she was golden brown. My hair was platinum, and hers was a mass of thin brown braids. My eyes shined red in the light, and hers were a light brown that twinkled with mischief. My speech was educated, even if I engaged in “shorthand” with my sister, and her’s was...well...let’s face it…ghetto.
“Stop it! We can’t be seen together! We-”
My protest turned into a moan as she bit down hard. She liked to bite, and as we both found out at Alan’s party, I like to get bit. My life would be ruined if anyone found out about us. Daddy owned the canning plant at the dock, and served on six different city councils, and Kenzi was the daughter of the town drunk. I can’t lower myself like this! I can’t!
But I do. Oh God, I do!
“Let’s at least try to make it quick!”
I belonged to her, and we both knew that. Before knew it, her hand was up the skirt of my uniform and on my thigh. God! Just like when we were at Alan’s “Dude, check ME out!” party. And then again at Alan’s “Have you SEEN my hair?!” mixer. Alan has a lot of parties about himself, and every time since that first one, Kenzi owned me in some dark corner. We were nasty to each other in public, but that had nothing on how nasty we were to each other in private. This is why I broke up with Lucky. This is why I think I’m a les-
”Qu'est-ce que tu fais?!
I freeze. Kenzi freezes. On no. No no no no. I push away Kenzi’s braids so that I can see...I had somehow gotten lost in them...and my worst fear is marching my way. Mrs. Merovingian, the French teacher and chorus director, was making her way towards us, and I can see her emerald green eyes flashing from here.
“...get OFF me…!”
Kenzi sneaks in one more squeeze of my ass before detaching her teeth and turning around.
“‘Sup, Ms. M?”
Ugh. The way Kenzi speaks infuriates me. And turns me on. What IS that?!
“This is unacceptable!”
She is in our faces, her finger pointed down at us. She isn’t tall, but everyone is compared to Kenzi and I, and she looms over us. She has her hair up in that beehive again, which I think is actually kinda cool, but everything else about her is lame. She took the chorus job so that she could have us sing nothing but old church hymns, and she was trying to get Christianity to be the only recognized religion on campus. Literally NO ONE liked her.
“You two salopes are disgusting! Why, back in MY day…”
Ugh. We really don’t need this right now. I sneak a peek at Kenzi and she’s making a motion with her fingers where Mrs. Merovingian can’t see. I feel my face heat up again as I see that she is making her fingers scissor. My GOD, she is going to get me LYNCHED.
”Et un autre point!
Did she EVER shut up? Her lectures in class were the WORST. She-
“Let them go, Ava.”
We all look up at that gravelly voice. The Caretaker of the Grounds, Necron, was possibly the biggest man in the world, and seemed like he was literally twice my height. He was smoking...he was always smoking...and carrying that big sledgehammer over his shoulder. Necron had been the caretaker at the university for as long as anyone can remember, and Daddy says that he was there when HE was a student, and everyone was a little bit afraid of him. Why, one rumor even spoke the he cut off a student’s finger once, but that couldn’t possibly be true, right?
“They are SLUTS, Caretaker!”
Truth be told, I’m not exactly insulted by the French teacher’s claim, since she thought anyone who even held hands before marriage qualified as a slut. But I grow straight-up embarrassed when I sneak another peek at Kenzi. God, she’s making “doggy style” motions with her hands now. Her favorite view! I just cannot even-
“Sarah Lacklan, please report to The Great and Powerful Dean Hastings’ office immediately, please. You’re welcome.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as Travis’ voice comes through the P.A. Mrs. Merovingian’s eyes turn back to me and go into slits, but I know I’m off the hook. For now. She turns her attention back to the Caretaker and I slip away, but not before Kenzi reached over and slapped my ass as hard as possible. Not gonna lie, the sound of the slap echoing through the hall followed me all the way to the Principal’s office and my butt burned hotter than my cheeks. That girl is going to get me KILLED.
I stop dead as I open the door and walk into the Dean of Students' office. My old boyfriend Lucky was there, lazily sitting in a chair with his leg propped over the arm, and suddenly the slap on my ass felt even hotter. Lucky and I met in high school, and while Daddy initially liked him, he fell out of favor when he joined that bicycle gang. Of course, that just made him hotter. I spent a LOT of time sitting bitch with him, driving through the city with his friends Chimp and Xandy. We were good together...but we wanted different things in life. He wanted to open a liqueur shop someday, which is probably a bad idea, with his brother being an alcoholic, and all, and I was in school for politics. We couldn't mix past our initial fling.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Yeah, that’s basically all it’s been since we broke up last year. I know that he’s been with a few girls since then, but I haven’t been with anyone. Well, besides Kenzi. God DAMNIT will my face STOP blushing already?!
“Please sign in, Ms. Lacklan.”
I turn my attention to Mr. Pierce, the Dean’s assistant and the head of our multimedia department. I give him a smile, which no doubt melts his heart, because that’s obvs what my smile does for people, and hear the door as I sign in.
“Hey.”
Hmm. Zane. Lucky gets up and they do that half handshake, half hug “bro” thing guys do. That’s my entire Outlast Debate team. Well, minus Mil. But she-
The booming voice of The Great and Powerful Dean Hastings fills my ears, and by the look on the faces of Lucky and Zane, theirs, too. Mr. Pierce gives us the go-ahead nod and the three of us grab our stuff and go through the door into, lets face it, what might as well be the hidden chamber within Emerald City. Fire shoots out every few feet as the three of us walk down the hallway and towards a large pedestal where, illuminated by a golden spotlight, is a cardboard cutout of The Great and Powerful Dean of Students.
I can’t help but roll my eyes. I really MUST get that copywrite figured out. Anyway, the three of us set our bags down and stand before the cutout.
Ugh. Mil. One of my best friends through high school, she had been chosen to be on the team, but she dropped out recently. She started hanging out with this drug dealer and just wasn’t the same. Stopped going to class. Stop showing up at parties. Can’t even answer a text anymore. So, now we are one person down. Every Outlast Debate team has four people, and if we can only field three…
We all perk up at that. Who could it be? Everyone was already assigned a team. Maybe he was going to transfer someone from another school? That would be awesome!
“Who is our ringer, Great and Powerful Mister Hastings? Joe Cool? Jesse Williams?”
I am shocked into silence. No one had ever seen Hastings in public before. Would we be so lucky? Would we be so blessed? Lucky is able to speak up.
“Wait...what? You, boss?”
Oh. Wonderful. I feel my eyes rolling again.
I pick up my bags filled with notes and pointed to them, just as I did for Zane earlier.
“Tobvs, Sir.”
“I said tobvs, Sir.”
I blink.
“Um...I ubes did.”
“He’s got a point.”
I shoot Lucky a look and he just shrugs his shoulders. I turn back to the cardboard cutout of The Great and Powerful Dean of Students.
“My words make totes PERFECT sense, and I-”
I growl. I am SO sick of this. Why doesn’t anyone know I am saying half the time.
“Fine. One sec.”
I pull out my phone and start a video chat with Angie.
“Hey, Sis!”
My GOD, why is she still wearing that ugly kitten sweater with the turtleneck? She can be SO embarrassing sometimes.
“Hey, Sis. Listen, I got some dee dums here who need a hand understanding out legit amazeballs shorthand. Can you bring up that coolio spreadsheet you made?”
“Def! Uno secondo, por favorino”
Ya know, after four years of Spanish and being an exchange student in Mexico her Freshman year, you'd figure Ang would be better at the language. Meh. After a few button presses, Angie puts up the spreadsheet she made to show just how easy our shorthand language was for anyone not smart enough. I hold up my phone for the cardboard cutout of the Dean to see.
“See?”
“Tobvs!”
I take my phone back down.
“Thanks, Sis!”
“You bet, Sis!”
I hang up on Angie and our meeting with The Great and Powerful Dean Hastings is interrupted by the tolling of a bell.
“Sweet! Lunch!”
We all turn to go, but a clearing of the throat stops us.
I shrug my shoulders and look at the boys. They both look at me and I give them a look so filled with disbelief that they should fall dead right where they stand. I point out the height of the cardboard cutout, which seems to be a legit FOOT taller than me, and raise my eyebrows. Lucky and Zane play a quick two-out-of-three-falls game of Ro Sham Bo, and Zane ends up having to carry our “teammate.” Pfft, like he’s being forced to. He LOVES the Dean!
“Yes, Sir?”
The...the um...the wha-
“Sarah?”
Lucky’s hand on my shoulder brought me back to now. What was that? What was-
“You okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m okay.”
My lie seems to work and we head out of the Great and Powerful Dean’s office, with Zane lugging the cardboard cut out all the way. Past Mister Pierce with a wave goodbye, and through the halls towards the cafeteria. Lucky pushes open the double doors for me to enter and I stop right at the front, taking in the chaos that is lunchtime. It would be impossible to know everyone, of course, but I know lots of people in that crowd.
Eden and Gabe, the leader of the Goth kids, sat in the far corner. Eden was wearing too much eyeliner, like usual, but her shoes freakin’ rocked. She was a weird one, because she had this tendency to leave class in the middle of a lesson, or sometimes work on a whole different subject instead, yet still get handed good grades. And Gabe has one of his snakes with him, because he’s THAT guy, the Snake Guy, and he’s doing his whole brooding thing he likes to do. That new kid, Caz, is with him. Caz is a big dude, bigger than even Redd, and he’s on the football team. Wears his helmet all the time, because he's a weirdo, and this is actually the first time I have seen him in the two weeks since he first transferred here. I'm sure he'll be GREAT on the team after missing two full weeks of practice!
I see Alan right in the center of the room. Alan would be cute, and I would probably make him mine, if it wasn’t for how arrogant he was. It was bad enough that he WAS cute; it was unbearable how he KNEW he was cute. He won the School Council election in a landslide. Jet is with him, as usual. The only person more arrogant than Alan is Jet and his dumb hair. Yes, Jet, we know that you have made several shampoo commercials. Yes, Jet, your hair is luxurious.
Phrixus and Dave are hanging out with Redd. They both graduated a few years ago, but they always seem to show up at lunch time in order to talk about how great our football team was back in THEIR day. “I once scored four touchdowns in a single game!” Yes Dave, we know. WE KNOW.
My sister is hanging out with some of her weirdo friends. Jake is wearing his dumb 80’s gear that stopped being fashionable two full years ago, including a pair of those snap bracelets and streamers on his jacked. LIzzie and Mizore are working on their cat-themed anime, like usual. They tried to get me to join their anime club a couple of years ago, and Mil convinced me that the hentai section was worth my time, but I couldn’t really get into it.
“You okay, Sar?”
“Um...yeah.”
I walk into the cafeteria...but I feel cold. Why is it so cold? Why am I so-
“Sar!”
I shake my head and snap my eyes open. Where was I? What am I doing? Why is this about?
“I...um…”
“C’mon! It’s your turn!”
I look around while trying to catch my breath. Lunch was over? When did we leave the cafeteria? Why is everyone-
“The Outlast Debate.”
Everyone was arranged in their team, including myself. Lucky and Zane were on my right, the cardboard version of The Great and Powerful Dean Hastings on my left, propped up against the wall. Nearly the whole school is here and in front of me, in groups which would normally make little sense. A few friends were able to stay together, like some of the goth kids, but mostly it was haphazard. And why did some of the faculty and alumni get to participate? I have always thought this was weird.
“Go get ‘em, Sar.”
I pick up my bag of notes, give my team a nod, and look at the first team captain.
Hey Angie!
We HAVE been over this in our #DigitalPigeons, but I DO want to make sure everyone at Outlast understands:
I am SO FREAKIN’ PROUD OF YOU! We ALL know how TOUGH I am to beat, and you can officially add yourself to that ubes short list. Of course, the only reason you DID beat me with that, lets face it, DISGUSTING move, was because I taught you how to do it. I am SO GLAD that you accepted my offer to guide you, to hold your hand, and become unto legend, because you kinda proved just how badass I am as a teacher. Maybe we have a #CoolKids Wrestling School in the future?
Anyway, you’re welcome!
So, here we are at Outlast, and you’ve got a pretty killer team. I mean, Roxy and I give each other shit all the time, because #BullySisters, but you know how much I respect her skills. Bitch is, like, 3 or 4 #ForeverChampions, right? Chaos, and that one redhead’s #STACKED fed, and I think there was some other one in there. N-E-Ways, so glad you picked her in the first round. Of course, we both know that you would have chosen ME first round if I had not already been snatched up by Zanie Poo, tobvs, but Roxy is the third best bet, after my Beloved, also tobvs.
Unfortunately, that is kinda where there coolioness of your team ends. I mean, Captain 80’s is funny to stalk on Twitter and all, and its also funny to watch how Roxy can barely move because of how...occupied...she is when looking at him, but he’s not exactly the greatest competitor, and is actually better off as a prop for a Chill match than actually helping you to get to the finals. And while we ALL like Liz’s cake-obsession, we also know that, outside of LAW, her record is less than desirable.
Because of that, if your team DOES win, I think that you’ll find yourself either all by yourself or with our #CoolKids sister. And normally that would be coolio, but you’re going to have to end up facing me. I have all the faith in the world that you can take down Vain if that was the case, but everyone watching this knows that I am the person to beat. Because I will NOT stop until I am legend. I will NOT shy away from any tactic. There is NO depth which is too low for me to sink.
I miss my Cross-Hemisphere Championship. I miss my Cooperation Championship. But to be the World Champion?
I will win at any cost.
I love you, Angie. But I will drop you into the Abyss in half a second if it means being the World Champion.
Hello Maggie.
Let us dispense with the silly notion that either one of the two people in this conversation is stupid. While I HAVE called your abilities of comprehension and retention into question in the past, we both know that this doubt is neither here nor there. This is about Outlast. This is about the ability to bring together the best team possible, minding the realities of the draft, to help you get to the final. Because in that final? The chance of glory. Fifteen Outlast Tournaments. Fifteen different winners to walk away with the most important prize in this business.
Much like my #CoolKidSister above, you smashed a homerun in the first round by selecting my Beloved wife. One has to wonder if this choice is partly influenced by my public admission that YOU were going to be my first pick last year for the sheer fuckery of the situation. Was the choice of Kenzi Grey to fuck with me? Was it to get into my head? We both know that you are smart enough, and vindictive enough, to do that. But I don’t think that’s what it is. I think that you simply looked at who the best person was for the job of getting you to the final and you settled on Kenzi.
I applaud that.
My Beloved has been nearly unstoppable in 2018. Ten wins in a row, including one over me for the highest of stakes at WrestleStock, and her only L this year can be laid at my own unfortunate feet. All throughout 2017, I pushed her and prodded her, I told her both in actions and words that there was a ferocity in her she didn’t even know about. She fought me on it, thought I was wrong, but I persevered. And since Outlast last year, since I proudly made her my anchor and introduced her to the Coalition, she has been a multi-time champion and nearly unbeatable. She is, in my opinion, and with no disrespect for Eden, the BEST person to choose for Outlast.
Unfortunately for you, she won’t be enough. I have made my position on Rydell clear, and while he will forever have a championship-winning W next to my name in our match compendium, everyone knows that Rydell had little to do with that victory. As focused as he is on taking away Vain’s championship, we know that he doesn’t have it in him. And Pierce? No question, he has surprised us all with successive victories over Necron, Roxy, and Angie, I do not have much faith in his stamina. His wins come when he has had lots of time off between his matches, and the likelihood that he will be able to outlast Angie’s team, and then be an effective force in the final, is quite small.
I do not expect to see you in the final, Maggie. Not because you are not good enough. We both know how good you are. Well, when you care anyway. I expect you to lose. I expect Angie’s team to outlast yours, with my Beloved being the final to fall, just as I was last year.
I will make sure to tug my ear for you to see when I hoist the World Championship high at the end of Outlast.
Question!
Do you know the point of Outlast, Nekkie? I am not exactly sure you do. See, it is IMPOSSIBLE to win this tournament on your own. This is NOT the Global Challenge, where you fight three singles matches in a night to win. This is NOT WrestleStock, where you find yourself in a mix of singles and multi-man matches for the Cup. This is a Cooperative tournament, Sir, and because of that, you need people you can TRUST in order to get past the first round. Because, while the final round is ALL about who stands last, it is IMPOSSIBLE to make it there if you have a team which implodes and cannot work together.
Ya know, kinda like team you have.
Like, when you were making your choices, you weren’t HIGH by any chance, were you? Lemme break this down for you a touch:
Jet Somers: While he IS on the outs with Eden, he DID just sacrifice himself to a vicious beating...by you.
Fear: Phrixy is THE SINGLE MOST lone wolf person in this fed! He doesn’t work with ANYONE.
Bordy: You basically tried to murder my Step-Mumsie on camera a few different times.
There is ZERO sympathy for you from your teammates! I mean, I am QUITE aware what it is like to piss off a TON of people and, like, get so much hate on you that people blacklist you for even a perceived slight, but holy CRAP, dude! At least I have a few friends I can trust! Even taking away the fact that I won’t be teaming up with my #CoolKids teammates in the tournament, my team still includes Pain and Paradox (...kinda…), a team which I have been very public about SHIPPING SO HARD THAT MY LADY PARTS QUIVER. I LUVS me some DonoZane! And while Lucky and I don’t know each other well, he’s a dude and I’m a totes sexy as flame chick, so we automatically get along.
But you? Your team? You have ZERO chance of getting past the first round!
So do “Little Red” a favor, Big Guy: Do your research. Spend less time murdering people on camera, or cutting off their fingers, or burning homeless encampments, or any of the other dumb-as-FUCK shit things you do during your 47-long promotional videos were you repeat yourself over and over AND OVER AGAIN without ever actually saying anything, and more time actually figuring out that this is a wrestling promotion and how to actually win the matches.
Say “hi” to Ava for me!
Okay...okay okay...I need to do a callback to something I did earlier in the year...because It is STILL stupid funny:
Please allow me to allow you to allow me to introduce myself.
‘Sup, Gabster! I just wanted to let you know that I LOVE your team! Seriously, you abs have the second best team in the tournament, so major props on that. Your Co-Captain Eden (who isn’t talking to me lately, but I am SURE that there is a 100% logical reason for that which makes tobvs sense) is a BEAST. MacLean won the freakin’ thing last year in one of my abs legit FAVORITE performances of the year. And then you have Cazador.
Huh.
Hrmm.
Um.
Question! When was the last time you watched Sesame Street? Its STILL a great show! Like, they added this Autistic character, which I think is GREAT, and is still full of awesome music and lessons and junk. Now, there is a song from Sesame Street which makes me think of your team. Do you think you know it? Here, let me sing a few bars for you:
BA BA BA DA-DA-DA DAAAAAA!
Man, song lyrics. I bet fatty is creaming her jeans as we speak.
N-E-Ways, I guess the point I am trying to make here is that you have an...odd...weak link in your awesome team. I guess its kinda like how Lucy chose JC last year.
Shit. Just triggered Lucy, Maggie, and probs Eden. Well buddies, sorry to break it to you, but Dipshit JC is a piece of trash. And “Big Caz,” which would be a totes original name for your dude, is the Outlast 2018 version of JC. Now, I FULLY expect you guys to win your opening round, because of the reasons I detailed above to Maggie, and I think that you may even end up with all three of you advancing. In fact, I suggest you guys aim for that, because it might well take all three of you to take down Kenzi. And that isn’t a boast, after all. Just ask your Co Captain how badass my Beloved is.
I hope, for your own sake, that you DO triple team my wife, and NOT in the way that sounds, because we totes have an exclusivity clause in our relationship contract. Because if you aren’t careful, Gabbie? If you overestimate Maggie’s team because of having Eden and Rogan on your side?
You won’t make it out of the first round.
Either way, I am the one who is going to be hoisting the World Championship at the end of the night.
Allow me to introduce myself.
Sarah Lacklan.
The Unified Global Wrestling Coalition World Champion.
Sooooooooooooooooooo
You SHOULD have a great Outlast team, Mizore. You REALLY should. Like, lets look at this cast of characters you have drafted:
Lucy Wylde. A winning captain last year. Multi-time Cross-Hemisphere Champion. World Champion.
Kem Dynamo. WrestleStock Cup winner. Massive Melee winner. Champ over in Portland.
Konrad Raab: Multi-time champ in a variety of feds. Unmatched sexytimes stamina. Digs ice.
That’s a LOT to go for your side, ya know? Because, as I mentioned above, Outlast is all about working as a team to get into the second round, where THEN you get a shot to take home the gold. And the championship caliber of your team is awesome!
But.
Oh, but.
Ohhhhhhh, but!
There are a few OTHER attributes to consider.
Lucy Wylde: In a downward spiral where, in the year plus I have known her, has ruined multiple lives, burned several bridges to the ground, and now looks like a coked-out trash panda five seconds away from begging for the sweet release of this mortal coil.
Kem Dynamo: Her own worst enemy, where her unyielding need to be loved by everyone, in particular some of the WORST people in our profession, which has led to her OTHER notable accomplishments being pinning a dog for a title and shaming and bullying people all the while crying about letting her be her.
Konrad Raab: He’s Konrad Raab….so...yeah...that kinda covers everything…
Now, we are both second generation wrestlers, have both grown up in this business, so we know that, against all odds, some of the most successful teams are the dysfunctional ones. Tag teams where one is a giant and one is a lightweight. Teams where people are diametrically opposed to one another. Hell, even teams akin to the Bears of Little League lore. And, under normal circumstances, or at least as “normal” as it gets in our profession, your ragtag group of people with virtually nothing in common might well win the day and even send your whole team to the final!
Unfortunately, this is NOT normal circumstances. This is NOT the best of times. Because there is a factor which you probably don’t realize, due to your inescapable fault of not doing research further than reading someone’s twitter bio or ugwc.com page. But I, ever the benevolent teacher of Kickassocity (go back up and look it up, 'cause you probably skimmed!), am here to enlighten you.
Lucy Wylde: Got dropped with the Abyss and lost the Cross-Hemisphere Championship to me at Battleground.
Kem Dynamo: Her lights went out as I nearly ripped off her arm at Chill #3.
Konrad Raab: Sent Into the Abyss at Day of Reckoning in a failed attempt at the Cooperation Titles.
I’m the X Factor, dearie. A LOT of people know that, realize that, hate themselves for understanding that. I am the one who shook up the Coalition when I showed up last year. I am the one who made it painfully obvious to the old guard that they can’t hang with the new breed of wrestler. I am the one who set the whole place on fire. And throughout my time doing that, I have taken down each and everyone member of your team in “Big Match” scenarios.
Including yourself.
Isn’t that the craziest stat? I haven’t done the most robust research on this, with the whole “I WANTS THE BABY!” gig I have been on all week, but I am pretty sure that only in OUR match is there someone who has defeated EVERY member of the opposing team in “Big Match” situations. Isn’t that NUTS?! And it’s because of that amazeballs fact, and your own inability to not understand the Coalition beyond the scope of your own mediocre abilities and card placement, that your team is not only going to lose, but it will be manhandled.
My team? It includes Pain and Paradox, the aforementioned DonoZane which makes the lady parts of hawt albino chicks quiver (again, go back and check it out; I KNOW you skimmed until you saw your name, Mizore!), Lucky, a former champ who is loving how awash he is in all the possibilities, and the single most dominant, sought-out, sought-after, loved, cherished, respected, and, lets be honest with ourselves, WORSHIPED, member of the roster: Me. The four of us are nigh unstoppable! Mostly because of me. Obvs.
And our team? The only thing which binds you together is the hatred of me. Or at least the burning desire to take back the L I handed to all of you. Check it:
Lucy Wylde: Is DYING to prove that me RIPPING AWAY her Cross-Hemisphere Championship, and thus ending the most impressive title run for the division in YEARS, was a fluke. Oh, she might say otherwise, but her little shots about being “napped and capped” over the months are a wonderful indication that I am, to borrow a phrase, living rent free in her head. She is SO PISSED that my life with Kenzi is magical to the point of us basically being two Disney Princesses, while hers is more about living in an emotional gutter the likes of which only Maggie would call home, that she is blinded by her hatred so much that she doesn’t realize how shitty her takes on wrestling have become. Oh! Bonus: Kenzi and I are basically Tiana and Charlotte in those fanfics where they are the cutest lesbo couple in the history of fanfics. But don’t tell Kenzi that! She’ll get all, “Yo! I’m not gay!” on you.
Kem Dynamo: Oh! Speaking of shitty takes! Kem is SO SHOOK over what happened leading up into Chill #3 that she’s probably STILL shaking with anxiety whenever she sees my name! Oh, I’m sure she thinks she putting on a brave face when she goes on her “PLEASE LOVE ME, SARAH” activities on Twitter, where she is CONSTANTLY seeking my approval, but I and my entire Legion of Interns know better. Hell, I don’t even need to tell them to respond with spray bottle gifs anymore! Well, except for when I had to fire Number Fifty-Seven for using a “Kill it with fire” gif instead, but hey, you can’t blame him for wanting to kill Kem with fire, ya know? N-E-Way, the truth of the matter is that, while simultaneously quaking with fear and being filled with the urge to throw up from the anxiety, she is also dying to have another go at me. Mind you, if she and I DID find ourselves facing off again at Chill, it would go even WORSE for her the second time around. And it won’t be any better at Outlast, either, because everyone in this conversation knows that the only time she #ShinesThroughTheDark is when she is face-to-face with a zucchini or kabocha.
Konrad Raab: Okay, truth be told, Raab probably isn’t filled with some burning desire to beat me at Outlast. I mean, people hand him Ls at a faster rate than they even hand you, so really, in the case of Raab, I’m just not that special!
And then...so you and I are clear…
Mizore Payne: You SHOULD be burning inside with violent anger (plus 10 #CoolPoints if you get that video game reference!) at the idea of handing me one of those rare Ls. I mean, not ONLY did I WIPE THE FLOOR with you at WrestleStock on my way to the final, I ALSO have that incredible distinction of being the person who has beaten both you AND your girl (is she still your girl?) Maya Jensen. And you SHOULD be full of anger over that because I have bragged about it. Like, a lot. Because of that whole #EyesOnMe thing I do. So, you SHOULD be all “IMMA MURDER YOU” like you were guest-starring in a pointless Court or Nekkie promotional video. But you’re not.
And why?
Because your fire is as hot as your ring name, dearie. Naught but the heat of winter. Outside of wins over Step-Mumsie and Kem, both of which came WAY after they were fashionable or impressive to do so, you have done NOTHING worthwhile in this company. And that trend of “meh” is going to continue at Outlast. Because your team, outside of an understandable hatred of me, has no reason to work together or become a unit, and you lack the skill and drive as a leader in order to bring them together. But my team?
Oh, dearie.
Oh, dearie dearie.
We are going to slaughter you.
Here’s me doing that thing where I call my shot.
You ready?
You sure?
Here we go.
75% of my team is going to make it to the final round. See, I’m not saying that we are going to make it a full 100% total elimination of your team. I mean, I highly doubt Raab can pin a single person over here, even IF Hastings ends up being the cardboard version of himself, but surely SOMEONE on your team will be able to. So, no, not 100%. But certainly 75%. And after we get to the final round? After the bell is run and there is one person outlasting everyone else?
It will be ME holding up the World Title.
And you know what kinda sucks about this whole thing?
Unless a teammate of yours fills you in...you probably don’t even know that the title is on the line.
Enjoy your obscurity, dearie.
“Sar?”
What the? Where am I? Where is everyone? The crowd is gone. The Outlast teams are gone. My own team is gone. Its just me and Kenzi.
“We need to go.”
She sounds different. Why does she sound different? Softer. Kinder. Why am I cold? Where is everyone?
And then I know.
The Abyss.
“Please don’t make me.”
“Baby, we-”
“I can’t do this, Ken. I can’t handle this. Not this.”
She takes my hands. She feels warm. God, she feels good. I’m so cold.
“We survived the fiasco with our marriage license. We survived Jacob. We survived Aveline. We can survive this. Together.”
None of this makes sense. But I understand it. I don’t want to face this. I can’t face this. But she is right. I must. WE must.
“Together. Into the dark.”
We turn and face the cold, the void of light which has sucked all of my friends into its dark depths. We walk hand-in-hand into the Abyss.
“She’s back with us”
Red eyes open slowly, the hazy world refusing to come into focus. Doctor Andrews is sitting next to Sarah, his tired and haggard face full of concern. Two nurses, pretty older women she had seen many times this year, were at her other side, one holding her hand, another putting away a jar of smelling salt. She could see Kenzi off to the side in a chair, her face wet from tears and worry.
“Wh...why…”
Trying to talk made her dizzy. She licked her lips and tried again.
“Why...am I on the floor?”
She was slowly brought up to a sitting position and then Kenzi was there, holding her hand. Kenzi’s grip was cold and clammy. Why? What was wr-
Cysts.
Ovarian cysts.
She cannot have children.
She was barren.
She sat duly as her lifelong doctor explained in greater detail. Yes, it was theoretically possible that she could have children, but he not only didn’t recommend it, he strictly forbade it. Her mother-
Her mother.
Her mother had died when a ruptured cyst had become infected.
A cyst which had ruptured when she gave birth to her only child.
Sarah had teased Kenzi mercilessly throughout the week. She had pre-registered for their baby shower five years ahead of time. She had made her listen to name after name from the baby book and why they would be good names. She had set up an online countdown clock called “WE HAZ BABY!” She had even conspired to purchase an $8000 watch for their baby’s Sweet 16 birthday party to be given to their child in 2039.
A Sweet 16 present.
For a child who will never be born.
She walks in a daze as Kenzi takes her out of the doctor’s office. Through the waiting area. Down the escalator. Out the front door. Into the waiting Uber.
Kenzi held her as she wept in despair.
~~FIN~~
Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan sat in the chair of the waiting room with a pile of books on her lap, a backpack full of more next to her, and a highly annoyed wife sitting on the other side. Every book was baby-themed in some way.
Mommy and Me
What to Expect When You’re Expecting
A Billion Baby Names
Today’s Baby Fashion
Over the prior week, Sarah had been reading every book and article she could get her perfectly-manicured hands on that had anything to do with babies, pregnancy, and child-rearing. Since losing their Co Op championships on Monday, which she was extremely proud of Angie over, she had been using all of her free time with her nose in a book while she tried to switch over to e-cigarettes. Which HIGHLY annoyed her, because NONE of the ones she had tried tasted ANYTHING like a cigarette, and she had spent her ENTIRE Lacklanland allowance on the luxury pens from Sensi and now she couldn't afford the cute-as-fuck hairband she saw earlier today.
“...this is so stupid...”
She had stopped listening to Kenzi’s grumblings days ago. Questions like, “Why are you looking at baby names?! FIVE YEARS IS A LONG WAY AWAY!” now fell upon deaf ears. Sarah was quite aware that their agreement of her becoming pregnant did not come into play for five years, but why wait to become a master at being a mother? She was going to be THE BEST mother there had ever been! She was going to pinch the baby’s cheeks. Was going to kiss the baby’s forehead. Was going to sing the baby songs until they fell asleep. She couldn’t WAIT!
“YOU LET GO!”
“I HAD IT FIRST!”
Sarah looked up from her baby book and saw two children fighting over some toy cars. She wanted to giggle, as the one holding onto the toy car was a short blonde girl with pigtails, but did her best to not bother them. Their mother was there in a flash, telling them the be quiet, they were in public. Sarah looked around herself and took in the room she was in, a room she had seen far too many times in the last year. The waiting room for the hospital where Dr. Andrews had residency was filled with people with a wide range of ills. Some had sniffles, others looked hale, still others had clear injuries. The children were no doubt there to see Dr. Andrews’ assistant, as he had stopped seeing children many years ago.
She reached up and adjusted her glasses as she smiled at the children, her heart fluttering. She couldn’t explain her need to plan her family, not in any way people would actually understand, but it was there nonetheless. Her wife...who was being SUCH a Moody McMoodyface over the whole ordeal...had conveniently forgotten that they had actually had several conversations on the matter before. She had even had conversations with her wretched Mother-In-Law Sid over the matter. She didn’t exactly appreciate how Sid referred to the beauty of childbirth as “Shitting out a kid,” but at least she understood WHY Sarah needed to have one. She wanted to grow their family, grow their love, as well as produce an heir. Being an only child, it was her sole responsibility to keep her family line going, and so she would do her duty.
“Mrs. Grey-Lacklan?”
Sarah’s eyes snapped up at the call of her name. She wasn’t exactly sure what this appointment was for, but she had been here to many times the last few weeks that it seemed like she had a standing order to arrive. She had had several more tests since Dr. Andrews cleared her to wrestle full time, which included blood work and dreaded needles, but she couldn’t ever get a clear answer as to what they were needed for. Hopefully, this one would be the final one. Through the waiting room they went, with Sarah lugging her massive bag of pregnancy and baby books she had five years too early, with Kenzi sighing and no doubt rolling her eyes the whole way with her "100% Perfect Sar Impression," and through the doors. The usual vital signs tests she was used to, with blood pressure and weight taken (gained a couple of pounds!), and into the white room. Nervous waiting, the two trying to pass the time with games by sending each other bread gifs on Twitter, a rare occurrence where she did not utilize any of the interns she had given the morning off, but they didn’t have to wait long.
Sarah’s heart raced when she saw the look on Dr. Andrews’ face when he walked in, clipboard in hand. He was not a young man, but he looked ancient right this second, with heavy bags under his eyes and a weight pushing down on his shoulders that made him seem ready to lie down for good. He didn’t offer pleasantries and instead simply pulled up a chair, sat next to Sarah, and placed his hand on her knee.
“We need to talk.”
Sarah’s heart pounded in her ears as her doctor, who had cared for her from the moment he pulled her from her mother’s womb, told her a tale. A tale of seeing some irregularities in her blood when she went through her physical last month. A tale of requesting more blood work from here for a closer analysis, and then the X-Rays he ordered the other day. A tale of Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. A tale of ovarian cysts.
“Sarah...I am sorry to tell you this...but I don’t think you can have children.”
What little color in Sarah’s pale face drained as her blood pressure spiked. She couldn’t hear her doctor ask if she was alright, did she need some water. She didn’t feel her wife squeeze her hand. She didn’t hear her wife scream “Selena!” as she fell from her chair and crumbled to the floor.
All she knew was darkness.
Presenting the Lacklan Saga Story Of:
Cool Kids University
The Outlast Debate
"...you need to wake up, Sarah..."
"...please don't make me..."
"...you must face the Abyss..."
"NO!"
My eyes snap open and I immediately regret it. I slam them back shut, the pain of the sun in my eyes blinding me, and take stock of where I am. In bed...obvs...after a rough night of sleep. That was a strange nightmare...but they have ALL been that way lately. The Abyss. I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to deal with it.
I slowly open my eyes so as not to blind myself again. My vision is blurry, tobvs, but at least it doesn’t hurt this time. I reach over to my endtable and fumble around until I find my glasses, put them on my face, and allow my eyes time to adjust to the morning sun. Being an albino is difficult, and while I would never ask that I be born different, I do have to deal with limitations. My eyesight sucks and will get worse as I get older. My eyes are sensitive to bright lights. My skin burns in the sun. My terrible beauty has its cost.
I sit up in my bed and look around. My room is pretty cool. Got Guilty Pleasure posters on the wall. My My Little Pony figurine collection on the shelves. My personal library of books in their corner. All the things which matter. I slip out of bed and head to my bathroom to start the ritual. I pause to notice that, yes, I am still as beautiful today as I was yesterday, with pale skin, high cheekbones, and a pointed chin. I am like Elsa brought to life! The ritual takes as long as always, but you do what you have to do: Teeth brushed until they shine brighter than a cop’s headlights, platinum hair brushed 100 times, face cleansed with oils so expensive that my sisters entire Matchbox Car collection could be sold three times over before I got a month’s worth.
I slip into my cheerleader uniform, check myself in the mirror to confirm that, yes, I AM the wet dream of every teacher I have, and grab my bookbag. Down the stairs I go, my slippered feet being as quiet as I am graceful, and into the kitchen for breakfast with my family.
Daddy is reading this morning’s newspaper, which I still haven’t figured out why he doesn’t just read his news online like everyone ELSE in the world, but its this thing, I guess. He’s tall and strong, with a big chest and arms, and his bright white hair is down to his shoulders. I’m a little different, but I get that from him, I guess. Certainly don’t get his height! Daddy says that Mumsie was barely over five feet tall, so I guess it’s coolio that I’m taller than her.
Of course, I’m nowhere NEAR as tall as Step-Mumsie. Mary is beautiful, there is no denying that, but she doesn’t like me, and never has, from what I can remember. She was always getting in my business growing up, always telling me not to do things. “Sarah, stop sucking up to teachers to get good grades.” Or “Sarah, stop trying to beat up the Walmart employee just because they made eye contact.” Or, the WORST, “Sarah, stop picking on your sister.”
My sister Angie had her face buried in her newest Pusheen Box that came in yesterday. Step-Mumsie was HER mom, and she ALWAYS gave her things that she NEVER gave me. Okay, Angie wants that Matchbox truck even though it costs $7.01 for ONE TOY? That’s cool...Angie gets it! Oh, Angie wants to adopt a fourth cat because she’s a weirdo? That’s cool...Angie gets it! Oh, Angie was responsible and got her licence last summer while I was busy partying every night? That’s cool...Angie gets a car!
ITS ALWAYS ANGIE ANGIE ANGIE
Ugh. And she’s SO WEIRD. Look, right THIS SECOND she’s wearing a turtleneck sweater instead of showing her cleavage LIKE I TAUGHT HER. How is she EVER going to meet a cute boy when she hides the girls like that?! HAVING CATS ISN’T ENOUGH, ANGIE!
Ugh. Whatever. Breakfast is the usual, with oats in water and cage-free egg whites, because I’m a badass, while Angie eats Fruit Loops, because she still eats sugar cereals. A kiss for Daddy and a light hug for Step-Mumsie, because HEAVEN FORBID MARY HIGHTOWER LOVE ME AS MUCH AS HER REAL DAUGHTER, and we are on our way. Both Angie and I put on our matching Hello Kitty beanies that we bought on that family trip to New York when we were younger, because FUCK its cold in Maine, and into her car. Angie has been OBSESSED with getting a red corvette since we were little, and OF COURSE that was the car Step-Mumsie bought her.
We belt out Disney songs on the way to school, as per the usual, and some of our her weirdo #CatClub4Life friends meet us as we park. I don’t have time to make fun of her friends like usual, though, because I need to get to cheer practice. Mrs. Lane will be PISSED if I’m late again! So I give Angie a quick hug, smirk at how dumb Jake looks in all of his retro 80’s gear that NO ONE likes, and roll my eyes at Lizzy; the weirdo anime chick has a slice of cake in her hand. If she’s not careful, she’s going to end up as fat as Kem!
I run up to cheer practice and can’t keep the smile off my face. I love cheer. I mean, the whole “Ra Ra Go Team!” stuff is a little silly, but I’m really here for the competitive floor show in second semester, anyway. Still, I would LOATHE to let Stupid Maggie somehow take my spot, so I’m here, early every day. The squad is getting AWESOME with me as captain this year, and WAY better than when Stupid Maggie was captain when we were Juniors last year, so that’s coolio.
“Let’s go, Lacklan! Get that pale butt moving!”
Mrs. Lane’s voice caught me off guard, but it made me run faster. Mrs. Roxy Lane was a BEAST, and just about everything any cheerleader could hope to be. She was tall, at least taller than me, and she had a rack that dwarfed mine and the next three girls...combined! And her face was perfect, too, almost like it was constructed by a really horny guy to be the best a face could be. Of course, none of that compared to her heart of gold, as Mrs. Lane was clearly the sweetest and most supportive teacher in the whole school, even IF she pushed us uber hard to be the best team we could be.
“Don’t make me question making you captain, Sarah!”
“Of course not, Mrs. Lane!”
I leapt into my role as the captain and directed the girls in the day’s practice. We worked on tumbling, tossing, and cheering, and I even had the girls come up with their own ch-
“OH NO I FELL AGAIN ISN’T THAT FUNNY”
Ugh. Kem. I don’t know WHY Mrs. Lane keeps her on the team. Me an Stupid Maggie had to sew together THREE uniforms in order to get over her bulk, and she fell on her fat face every five freakin’ minutes! And don’t EVEN get me started on that time she tossed me into the airs...and then FORGOT to catch me because she was stuffing her FAT FACE with one of Lizzy’s cake pops. Thankfully, I fell on top of Stupid Maggie, and since she doesn’t care about anything, we were all good. That reminds me-
“OH NO!”
I look up just in time to see Kem fall on her fat face again. I guess that’s what she gets for trying to walk and breathe at the same time. No one bothers to help her up, obvs, because why bother? She’ll just cry a bit, get up, fall on her face, and cry some more. Its her #Thing, I guess.
Welp, practice is over and we are all on our way to class. Ugh. Stupid Maggie is walking with me.
“I don’t care about going to class. Do you? I don’t know why anyone would care about going to class. I don’t even care about graduating. You’re an idiot if you care about graduating.”
Oh Lord, here she goes again. Yes, Stupid Maggie, its SO WEIRD that people care about school. Whatev. I HATE how we have First Period together.
“ME AM THE BEST.”
I giggle as I hear a booming voice. Stupid Maggie slips away, off to a class she doesn’t care about until she gets to post on Twitter about how she got a better grade than Raab, anyway, because FUCK consistency, and turn my attention to the star running back of our team, Big Redd. I skip over and give the big lug a massive hug.
“ME THANK YOU FOR THE HUG. BUT WHY SUCH A BIG HUG? THUNDER’S RIBS HURT.”
“Thought you died, that’s all.”
He looks at me funny.
“REDD NOT DEAD. JUST GO ON VACAY.”
“Glad to hear that, buddy. Thanks for saving me from Jacob that one time last year. I don't know if I ever really thanked you for it. Hey-”
“Whatchu doin’ wit’ mah man?”
Shit. I didn’t even see Redd’s girlfriend Kenzi behind him. She slips out from behind him and flips her braids back over her shoulder. Kenzi Grey was in my history class and the star of both our step dance team and our glee club, and was real protective of Redd, as they had been dating so long that people joked they must have been together even during World War II. I took my hands off Redd and backed away.
“Nothing, Kenzi.”
“Good. Cause I don’t need no white bread and mayo-eating Becky sliding up on my man, know what I’m sayin’”
I didn’t actually know what she was saying, especially when she was hanging with her friend Cartier, but I give her one of my patented eyerolls. She stares daggers at me, and I’m ready to lay into her with some of my razor-sharp wit when we are cut off by the P.A. going off.
“This is your Icon of Entertainment, your King of Charisma, Travis Pierce, here with your morning announcements. Lunch today will be-”
I take this opportunity to sneak away from Kenzi and Redd while everyone listens to the Piercing Media Network’s presentation of what all was going on school today. Lunch was going to be meatloaf...yuck...and the band was holding auditions for jazz, which seemed kinda cool. Angie plays the clarinet...because of course she does...and Mrs. Lane once suggested I try out the flute, because she LOVES playing some flute, but I’m not sure that’s exactly what she was talking about. Maybe I-
I freeze. I’m cold. Why am I suddenly so cold? What
“...you have to face it, Sar…”
“...NO I DON’T KENZI!”
“...FACE THE ABYSS!”
“...and don’t forget that the Outlast Debate is right after lunch today. You don’t want to be late!”
Travis’ voice knocks me back into the moment. What was that? What were those voices? Abyss? What’s the-
“OW!”
I feel like my shoulder go RAMMED into by a bull! I look up...and up...and UP...fuck, this dude is tall…
Ugh.
THIS guy.
“Hello, Zane.”
“Hey, Sar. You ready for the Outlast Debate today? Dean Hastings really wants us to win.”
I roll my eyes. How can I not? Zane has been Dean's Pet since the first week of Freshman year! The kiss-ass. Always at the "Lunch with The Great and Powerful Dean" weekly meetings. I don’t know WHY Zane insists on going to those things. It's not even The Great and Powerful Dean Hastings! It's just a life-size cardboard cutout! Whatev. I liked him better last year, before he grew out his hair and beard. Mama loves her some clean shaven and smooth, thank you very much.
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
I point to my Chanel bookbag.
“Got my notes here.”
We talk a little more as we head into class. We had been selected to be on the Dean's team, along with my old boyfriend Lucky, but I don’t EVEN want to think about him and his freakin’ BADASS motorcycle right now. Ugh...MAN he’s hot.
“I don’t even care about being in this class. Why do you care about being in class? Caring about being in class is stupid.”
Ugh. Stupid Maggie. The only reason she’s even on my cheer squad this year is because she has cool hair. She started skipping school after she got with Lucy, the kid who got suspended after getting hooked on drugs, and her grades dropped. Of course, she “doesn’t care” about grades and “doesn’t care” about assignments, so, whatev.
“Hey Raab, did you see how much higher my grade was on last week’s paper? Nice try. Not like I care about my grades or anything.”
Ugh. She is SO fake. And poor Raab. Poor guy started losing his hair when we were 15! But its okay; if the rumors are true, he more than makes up for it in the sack. Why, Fizz said that he lasted four freakin’ hours! Good Lord! What is that even LIKE?! I can’t even IMAGINE how sore I would be-
My phone is going off. Lemme check this text-
NOW
“You okay, Sar?”
“I...um...what?”
“You looked flushed. Need some water?”
Oh jeez...I can FEEL how hot my face is. No wonder why Zane is looking at me funny. Might as well paint an A on my forehead and call me Hester! But I have to go. I have to go NOW!
“Um...I just have to use the potty. Be right back!”
“I don’t know why anyone would even care about having to use the bathroom. I don’t care about-”
Stupid Maggie’s hypocritical nonsense fades away as I rush out the door. But I blow right past the bathroom down the hall, and then another two more. I don’t have to use the potty. At least, not really. But I DO need to get to the bathroom on the far side of campus. The bathroom right next to Caretaker Necron’s office. I MUST go there. I have NO CHOICE.
Oh God, if anyone caught me…
I’m here. Right nearly RAN here. I’m out of breath. I’m-
“There’s my Becky.”
I turn around and sigh. Its all I can do. Kenzi is on top of me before I know what is happening. I feel my back slam into the wall and her lips are on my neck.
“Fuck! Not here! We’ll get caught!”
A hand slaps down on my hip and I help in pain. She laughs as she bites my neck.
“Not my problem!”
Damnit. Ever since we had that drunken hook-up at Alan’s “Ain’t I Great?!” party over the summer, I have been her slave. Kenzi was everything that I wasn’t, and it turned me on like no one’s business. I was pale white, and she was golden brown. My hair was platinum, and hers was a mass of thin brown braids. My eyes shined red in the light, and hers were a light brown that twinkled with mischief. My speech was educated, even if I engaged in “shorthand” with my sister, and her’s was...well...let’s face it…ghetto.
“Stop it! We can’t be seen together! We-”
My protest turned into a moan as she bit down hard. She liked to bite, and as we both found out at Alan’s party, I like to get bit. My life would be ruined if anyone found out about us. Daddy owned the canning plant at the dock, and served on six different city councils, and Kenzi was the daughter of the town drunk. I can’t lower myself like this! I can’t!
But I do. Oh God, I do!
“Let’s at least try to make it quick!”
I belonged to her, and we both knew that. Before knew it, her hand was up the skirt of my uniform and on my thigh. God! Just like when we were at Alan’s “Dude, check ME out!” party. And then again at Alan’s “Have you SEEN my hair?!” mixer. Alan has a lot of parties about himself, and every time since that first one, Kenzi owned me in some dark corner. We were nasty to each other in public, but that had nothing on how nasty we were to each other in private. This is why I broke up with Lucky. This is why I think I’m a les-
”Qu'est-ce que tu fais?!
I freeze. Kenzi freezes. On no. No no no no. I push away Kenzi’s braids so that I can see...I had somehow gotten lost in them...and my worst fear is marching my way. Mrs. Merovingian, the French teacher and chorus director, was making her way towards us, and I can see her emerald green eyes flashing from here.
“...get OFF me…!”
Kenzi sneaks in one more squeeze of my ass before detaching her teeth and turning around.
“‘Sup, Ms. M?”
Ugh. The way Kenzi speaks infuriates me. And turns me on. What IS that?!
“This is unacceptable!”
She is in our faces, her finger pointed down at us. She isn’t tall, but everyone is compared to Kenzi and I, and she looms over us. She has her hair up in that beehive again, which I think is actually kinda cool, but everything else about her is lame. She took the chorus job so that she could have us sing nothing but old church hymns, and she was trying to get Christianity to be the only recognized religion on campus. Literally NO ONE liked her.
“You two salopes are disgusting! Why, back in MY day…”
Ugh. We really don’t need this right now. I sneak a peek at Kenzi and she’s making a motion with her fingers where Mrs. Merovingian can’t see. I feel my face heat up again as I see that she is making her fingers scissor. My GOD, she is going to get me LYNCHED.
”Et un autre point!
Did she EVER shut up? Her lectures in class were the WORST. She-
“Let them go, Ava.”
We all look up at that gravelly voice. The Caretaker of the Grounds, Necron, was possibly the biggest man in the world, and seemed like he was literally twice my height. He was smoking...he was always smoking...and carrying that big sledgehammer over his shoulder. Necron had been the caretaker at the university for as long as anyone can remember, and Daddy says that he was there when HE was a student, and everyone was a little bit afraid of him. Why, one rumor even spoke the he cut off a student’s finger once, but that couldn’t possibly be true, right?
“They are SLUTS, Caretaker!”
Truth be told, I’m not exactly insulted by the French teacher’s claim, since she thought anyone who even held hands before marriage qualified as a slut. But I grow straight-up embarrassed when I sneak another peek at Kenzi. God, she’s making “doggy style” motions with her hands now. Her favorite view! I just cannot even-
“Sarah Lacklan, please report to The Great and Powerful Dean Hastings’ office immediately, please. You’re welcome.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as Travis’ voice comes through the P.A. Mrs. Merovingian’s eyes turn back to me and go into slits, but I know I’m off the hook. For now. She turns her attention back to the Caretaker and I slip away, but not before Kenzi reached over and slapped my ass as hard as possible. Not gonna lie, the sound of the slap echoing through the hall followed me all the way to the Principal’s office and my butt burned hotter than my cheeks. That girl is going to get me KILLED.
I stop dead as I open the door and walk into the Dean of Students' office. My old boyfriend Lucky was there, lazily sitting in a chair with his leg propped over the arm, and suddenly the slap on my ass felt even hotter. Lucky and I met in high school, and while Daddy initially liked him, he fell out of favor when he joined that bicycle gang. Of course, that just made him hotter. I spent a LOT of time sitting bitch with him, driving through the city with his friends Chimp and Xandy. We were good together...but we wanted different things in life. He wanted to open a liqueur shop someday, which is probably a bad idea, with his brother being an alcoholic, and all, and I was in school for politics. We couldn't mix past our initial fling.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Yeah, that’s basically all it’s been since we broke up last year. I know that he’s been with a few girls since then, but I haven’t been with anyone. Well, besides Kenzi. God DAMNIT will my face STOP blushing already?!
“Please sign in, Ms. Lacklan.”
I turn my attention to Mr. Pierce, the Dean’s assistant and the head of our multimedia department. I give him a smile, which no doubt melts his heart, because that’s obvs what my smile does for people, and hear the door as I sign in.
“Hey.”
Hmm. Zane. Lucky gets up and they do that half handshake, half hug “bro” thing guys do. That’s my entire Outlast Debate team. Well, minus Mil. But she-
YOU MAY COME INTO MY PRESENCE
YOU ARE BLESSED TO BE IN MY PRESENCE, MERE MORTALS.
I HAVE BROUGHT YOU HERE TODAY TO MAKE SURE THAT YOU ARE ALL PREPARED TO WIN THE OUTLAST DEBATE IN HONOR OF MYSELF. I HAVE SELECTED YOU ALL FOR YOUR INESTIMABLE SKILLS AND VALUE. WELL, EXCEPT FOR MS. CROWTHORNE.
BUT FEAR NOT, MERE MORTALS, FOR I HAVE A SOLUTION TO OUR PROBLEM. I HAVE FOUND YOU A FOURTH MEMBER OF YOUR TEAM.
“Who is our ringer, Great and Powerful Mister Hastings? Joe Cool? Jesse Williams?”
ME
“Wait...what? You, boss?”
OF COURSE NOT. MY OWN CAPABILITIES ARE TOO MUCH FOR MERE MORTALS TO UNDERSTAND. BUT I WILL BE THERE IN SPIRIT. YOU MAY TAKE MY CARDBOARD CUTOUT WITH YOU.
MS. LACKLAN. ARE YOU PREPARED FOR THE DEBATE?
“Tobvs, Sir.”
WUT
PLEASE USE REAL WORDS
“Um...I ubes did.”
I LITERALLY DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU ARE SAYING RIGHT NOW
I shoot Lucky a look and he just shrugs his shoulders. I turn back to the cardboard cutout of The Great and Powerful Dean of Students.
“My words make totes PERFECT sense, and I-”
CAN ANYONE PLEASE TRANSLATE
“Fine. One sec.”
I pull out my phone and start a video chat with Angie.
“Hey, Sis!”
My GOD, why is she still wearing that ugly kitten sweater with the turtleneck? She can be SO embarrassing sometimes.
“Hey, Sis. Listen, I got some dee dums here who need a hand understanding out legit amazeballs shorthand. Can you bring up that coolio spreadsheet you made?”
“Def! Uno secondo, por favorino”
Ya know, after four years of Spanish and being an exchange student in Mexico her Freshman year, you'd figure Ang would be better at the language. Meh. After a few button presses, Angie puts up the spreadsheet she made to show just how easy our shorthand language was for anyone not smart enough. I hold up my phone for the cardboard cutout of the Dean to see.
“See?”
| Abs | Absolutely. Not to be confused with ABS, a sweet set of lickable midsection muscles |
| Adorbs | Adorable. "Lil' Has is totes adorbs!" |
| Amazeballs | Really cool. Worth approximately 3 ubes |
| Coolio | Cool, but not nearly as cool as amazeballs. Worth approximately 1.3 ubs |
| Dee Dums | Dumb people. Taken from the twins in that legit awesome movie where 😍Johnny Depp😍 wore the big hats |
| Def | Definately. Typically used in conjuction with "most" for "most def" |
| Digital Pigeons | DMs on Twitter, texts, etc |
| Kickassocity | The study of all things kickass. Note: Ang says "kickbuttocity," because of course she does |
| Legit | Legimate, legitately |
| Obvs | Obviously. See: Duh |
| Ser | Seriously |
| Ser (noun) | Royal Title within the Kingship of Lacklanlandia. Comparable to a Knightship. For kitties only. |
| Tobvs | Totally obvious |
| Totes | Totally. Also, a really handy bag |
| Ubes/Uber | From the German word for “above,” excellent or amazing; also, a cab company |
| Special note | All terms can be made a negative with the addition of an “N”. Negit, Nef, Ners, Nobvs, etc |
OH. WELL THEN. I GUESS THAT MAKES SENSE.
I take my phone back down.
“Thanks, Sis!”
“You bet, Sis!”
I hang up on Angie and our meeting with The Great and Powerful Dean Hastings is interrupted by the tolling of a bell.
“Sweet! Lunch!”
We all turn to go, but a clearing of the throat stops us.
YOU ARE TO TAKE FAUXOVAN HASTEBOARD WITH YOU AT ALL TIMES
AND SARAH?
BE MINDFUL OF THE ABYSS
"...Sar, it will be okay."
"No it WON’T, Ken! My mother DIED from a ruptured cyst!"
"…baby…"
"...I can’t breathe…"
“Sarah?”
Lucky’s hand on my shoulder brought me back to now. What was that? What was-
“You okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m okay.”
My lie seems to work and we head out of the Great and Powerful Dean’s office, with Zane lugging the cardboard cut out all the way. Past Mister Pierce with a wave goodbye, and through the halls towards the cafeteria. Lucky pushes open the double doors for me to enter and I stop right at the front, taking in the chaos that is lunchtime. It would be impossible to know everyone, of course, but I know lots of people in that crowd.
Eden and Gabe, the leader of the Goth kids, sat in the far corner. Eden was wearing too much eyeliner, like usual, but her shoes freakin’ rocked. She was a weird one, because she had this tendency to leave class in the middle of a lesson, or sometimes work on a whole different subject instead, yet still get handed good grades. And Gabe has one of his snakes with him, because he’s THAT guy, the Snake Guy, and he’s doing his whole brooding thing he likes to do. That new kid, Caz, is with him. Caz is a big dude, bigger than even Redd, and he’s on the football team. Wears his helmet all the time, because he's a weirdo, and this is actually the first time I have seen him in the two weeks since he first transferred here. I'm sure he'll be GREAT on the team after missing two full weeks of practice!
I see Alan right in the center of the room. Alan would be cute, and I would probably make him mine, if it wasn’t for how arrogant he was. It was bad enough that he WAS cute; it was unbearable how he KNEW he was cute. He won the School Council election in a landslide. Jet is with him, as usual. The only person more arrogant than Alan is Jet and his dumb hair. Yes, Jet, we know that you have made several shampoo commercials. Yes, Jet, your hair is luxurious.
Phrixus and Dave are hanging out with Redd. They both graduated a few years ago, but they always seem to show up at lunch time in order to talk about how great our football team was back in THEIR day. “I once scored four touchdowns in a single game!” Yes Dave, we know. WE KNOW.
My sister is hanging out with some of her weirdo friends. Jake is wearing his dumb 80’s gear that stopped being fashionable two full years ago, including a pair of those snap bracelets and streamers on his jacked. LIzzie and Mizore are working on their cat-themed anime, like usual. They tried to get me to join their anime club a couple of years ago, and Mil convinced me that the hentai section was worth my time, but I couldn’t really get into it.
“You okay, Sar?”
“Um...yeah.”
I walk into the cafeteria...but I feel cold. Why is it so cold? Why am I so-
“...I’m so cold, Beloved.”
“...we’re in so deep…”
“...but the Abyss...the Abyss is deeper…”
“Sar!”
I shake my head and snap my eyes open. Where was I? What am I doing? Why is this about?
“I...um…”
“C’mon! It’s your turn!”
I look around while trying to catch my breath. Lunch was over? When did we leave the cafeteria? Why is everyone-
“The Outlast Debate.”
Everyone was arranged in their team, including myself. Lucky and Zane were on my right, the cardboard version of The Great and Powerful Dean Hastings on my left, propped up against the wall. Nearly the whole school is here and in front of me, in groups which would normally make little sense. A few friends were able to stay together, like some of the goth kids, but mostly it was haphazard. And why did some of the faculty and alumni get to participate? I have always thought this was weird.
“Go get ‘em, Sar.”
I pick up my bag of notes, give my team a nod, and look at the first team captain.
* * * * * * * * * *
Hey Angie!
We HAVE been over this in our #DigitalPigeons, but I DO want to make sure everyone at Outlast understands:
I am SO FREAKIN’ PROUD OF YOU! We ALL know how TOUGH I am to beat, and you can officially add yourself to that ubes short list. Of course, the only reason you DID beat me with that, lets face it, DISGUSTING move, was because I taught you how to do it. I am SO GLAD that you accepted my offer to guide you, to hold your hand, and become unto legend, because you kinda proved just how badass I am as a teacher. Maybe we have a #CoolKids Wrestling School in the future?
Anyway, you’re welcome!
So, here we are at Outlast, and you’ve got a pretty killer team. I mean, Roxy and I give each other shit all the time, because #BullySisters, but you know how much I respect her skills. Bitch is, like, 3 or 4 #ForeverChampions, right? Chaos, and that one redhead’s #STACKED fed, and I think there was some other one in there. N-E-Ways, so glad you picked her in the first round. Of course, we both know that you would have chosen ME first round if I had not already been snatched up by Zanie Poo, tobvs, but Roxy is the third best bet, after my Beloved, also tobvs.
Unfortunately, that is kinda where there coolioness of your team ends. I mean, Captain 80’s is funny to stalk on Twitter and all, and its also funny to watch how Roxy can barely move because of how...occupied...she is when looking at him, but he’s not exactly the greatest competitor, and is actually better off as a prop for a Chill match than actually helping you to get to the finals. And while we ALL like Liz’s cake-obsession, we also know that, outside of LAW, her record is less than desirable.
Because of that, if your team DOES win, I think that you’ll find yourself either all by yourself or with our #CoolKids sister. And normally that would be coolio, but you’re going to have to end up facing me. I have all the faith in the world that you can take down Vain if that was the case, but everyone watching this knows that I am the person to beat. Because I will NOT stop until I am legend. I will NOT shy away from any tactic. There is NO depth which is too low for me to sink.
I miss my Cross-Hemisphere Championship. I miss my Cooperation Championship. But to be the World Champion?
I will win at any cost.
I love you, Angie. But I will drop you into the Abyss in half a second if it means being the World Champion.
Hello Maggie.
Let us dispense with the silly notion that either one of the two people in this conversation is stupid. While I HAVE called your abilities of comprehension and retention into question in the past, we both know that this doubt is neither here nor there. This is about Outlast. This is about the ability to bring together the best team possible, minding the realities of the draft, to help you get to the final. Because in that final? The chance of glory. Fifteen Outlast Tournaments. Fifteen different winners to walk away with the most important prize in this business.
Much like my #CoolKidSister above, you smashed a homerun in the first round by selecting my Beloved wife. One has to wonder if this choice is partly influenced by my public admission that YOU were going to be my first pick last year for the sheer fuckery of the situation. Was the choice of Kenzi Grey to fuck with me? Was it to get into my head? We both know that you are smart enough, and vindictive enough, to do that. But I don’t think that’s what it is. I think that you simply looked at who the best person was for the job of getting you to the final and you settled on Kenzi.
I applaud that.
My Beloved has been nearly unstoppable in 2018. Ten wins in a row, including one over me for the highest of stakes at WrestleStock, and her only L this year can be laid at my own unfortunate feet. All throughout 2017, I pushed her and prodded her, I told her both in actions and words that there was a ferocity in her she didn’t even know about. She fought me on it, thought I was wrong, but I persevered. And since Outlast last year, since I proudly made her my anchor and introduced her to the Coalition, she has been a multi-time champion and nearly unbeatable. She is, in my opinion, and with no disrespect for Eden, the BEST person to choose for Outlast.
Unfortunately for you, she won’t be enough. I have made my position on Rydell clear, and while he will forever have a championship-winning W next to my name in our match compendium, everyone knows that Rydell had little to do with that victory. As focused as he is on taking away Vain’s championship, we know that he doesn’t have it in him. And Pierce? No question, he has surprised us all with successive victories over Necron, Roxy, and Angie, I do not have much faith in his stamina. His wins come when he has had lots of time off between his matches, and the likelihood that he will be able to outlast Angie’s team, and then be an effective force in the final, is quite small.
I do not expect to see you in the final, Maggie. Not because you are not good enough. We both know how good you are. Well, when you care anyway. I expect you to lose. I expect Angie’s team to outlast yours, with my Beloved being the final to fall, just as I was last year.
I will make sure to tug my ear for you to see when I hoist the World Championship high at the end of Outlast.
Question!
Do you know the point of Outlast, Nekkie? I am not exactly sure you do. See, it is IMPOSSIBLE to win this tournament on your own. This is NOT the Global Challenge, where you fight three singles matches in a night to win. This is NOT WrestleStock, where you find yourself in a mix of singles and multi-man matches for the Cup. This is a Cooperative tournament, Sir, and because of that, you need people you can TRUST in order to get past the first round. Because, while the final round is ALL about who stands last, it is IMPOSSIBLE to make it there if you have a team which implodes and cannot work together.
Ya know, kinda like team you have.
Like, when you were making your choices, you weren’t HIGH by any chance, were you? Lemme break this down for you a touch:
Jet Somers: While he IS on the outs with Eden, he DID just sacrifice himself to a vicious beating...by you.
Fear: Phrixy is THE SINGLE MOST lone wolf person in this fed! He doesn’t work with ANYONE.
Bordy: You basically tried to murder my Step-Mumsie on camera a few different times.
There is ZERO sympathy for you from your teammates! I mean, I am QUITE aware what it is like to piss off a TON of people and, like, get so much hate on you that people blacklist you for even a perceived slight, but holy CRAP, dude! At least I have a few friends I can trust! Even taking away the fact that I won’t be teaming up with my #CoolKids teammates in the tournament, my team still includes Pain and Paradox (...kinda…), a team which I have been very public about SHIPPING SO HARD THAT MY LADY PARTS QUIVER. I LUVS me some DonoZane! And while Lucky and I don’t know each other well, he’s a dude and I’m a totes sexy as flame chick, so we automatically get along.
But you? Your team? You have ZERO chance of getting past the first round!
So do “Little Red” a favor, Big Guy: Do your research. Spend less time murdering people on camera, or cutting off their fingers, or burning homeless encampments, or any of the other dumb-as-FUCK shit things you do during your 47-long promotional videos were you repeat yourself over and over AND OVER AGAIN without ever actually saying anything, and more time actually figuring out that this is a wrestling promotion and how to actually win the matches.
Say “hi” to Ava for me!
Okay...okay okay...I need to do a callback to something I did earlier in the year...because It is STILL stupid funny:
Please allow me to allow you to allow me to introduce myself.
‘Sup, Gabster! I just wanted to let you know that I LOVE your team! Seriously, you abs have the second best team in the tournament, so major props on that. Your Co-Captain Eden (who isn’t talking to me lately, but I am SURE that there is a 100% logical reason for that which makes tobvs sense) is a BEAST. MacLean won the freakin’ thing last year in one of my abs legit FAVORITE performances of the year. And then you have Cazador.
Huh.
Hrmm.
Um.
Question! When was the last time you watched Sesame Street? Its STILL a great show! Like, they added this Autistic character, which I think is GREAT, and is still full of awesome music and lessons and junk. Now, there is a song from Sesame Street which makes me think of your team. Do you think you know it? Here, let me sing a few bars for you:
One of these things is not like the others
One of these things just doesn’t belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?
One of these things just doesn’t belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?
BA BA BA DA-DA-DA DAAAAAA!
Man, song lyrics. I bet fatty is creaming her jeans as we speak.
N-E-Ways, I guess the point I am trying to make here is that you have an...odd...weak link in your awesome team. I guess its kinda like how Lucy chose JC last year.
Shit. Just triggered Lucy, Maggie, and probs Eden. Well buddies, sorry to break it to you, but Dipshit JC is a piece of trash. And “Big Caz,” which would be a totes original name for your dude, is the Outlast 2018 version of JC. Now, I FULLY expect you guys to win your opening round, because of the reasons I detailed above to Maggie, and I think that you may even end up with all three of you advancing. In fact, I suggest you guys aim for that, because it might well take all three of you to take down Kenzi. And that isn’t a boast, after all. Just ask your Co Captain how badass my Beloved is.
I hope, for your own sake, that you DO triple team my wife, and NOT in the way that sounds, because we totes have an exclusivity clause in our relationship contract. Because if you aren’t careful, Gabbie? If you overestimate Maggie’s team because of having Eden and Rogan on your side?
You won’t make it out of the first round.
Either way, I am the one who is going to be hoisting the World Championship at the end of the night.
Allow me to introduce myself.
Sarah Lacklan.
The Unified Global Wrestling Coalition World Champion.
Sooooooooooooooooooo
You SHOULD have a great Outlast team, Mizore. You REALLY should. Like, lets look at this cast of characters you have drafted:
Lucy Wylde. A winning captain last year. Multi-time Cross-Hemisphere Champion. World Champion.
Kem Dynamo. WrestleStock Cup winner. Massive Melee winner. Champ over in Portland.
Konrad Raab: Multi-time champ in a variety of feds. Unmatched sexytimes stamina. Digs ice.
That’s a LOT to go for your side, ya know? Because, as I mentioned above, Outlast is all about working as a team to get into the second round, where THEN you get a shot to take home the gold. And the championship caliber of your team is awesome!
But.
Oh, but.
Ohhhhhhh, but!
There are a few OTHER attributes to consider.
Lucy Wylde: In a downward spiral where, in the year plus I have known her, has ruined multiple lives, burned several bridges to the ground, and now looks like a coked-out trash panda five seconds away from begging for the sweet release of this mortal coil.
Kem Dynamo: Her own worst enemy, where her unyielding need to be loved by everyone, in particular some of the WORST people in our profession, which has led to her OTHER notable accomplishments being pinning a dog for a title and shaming and bullying people all the while crying about letting her be her.
Konrad Raab: He’s Konrad Raab….so...yeah...that kinda covers everything…
Now, we are both second generation wrestlers, have both grown up in this business, so we know that, against all odds, some of the most successful teams are the dysfunctional ones. Tag teams where one is a giant and one is a lightweight. Teams where people are diametrically opposed to one another. Hell, even teams akin to the Bears of Little League lore. And, under normal circumstances, or at least as “normal” as it gets in our profession, your ragtag group of people with virtually nothing in common might well win the day and even send your whole team to the final!
Unfortunately, this is NOT normal circumstances. This is NOT the best of times. Because there is a factor which you probably don’t realize, due to your inescapable fault of not doing research further than reading someone’s twitter bio or ugwc.com page. But I, ever the benevolent teacher of Kickassocity (go back up and look it up, 'cause you probably skimmed!), am here to enlighten you.
Lucy Wylde: Got dropped with the Abyss and lost the Cross-Hemisphere Championship to me at Battleground.
Kem Dynamo: Her lights went out as I nearly ripped off her arm at Chill #3.
Konrad Raab: Sent Into the Abyss at Day of Reckoning in a failed attempt at the Cooperation Titles.
I’m the X Factor, dearie. A LOT of people know that, realize that, hate themselves for understanding that. I am the one who shook up the Coalition when I showed up last year. I am the one who made it painfully obvious to the old guard that they can’t hang with the new breed of wrestler. I am the one who set the whole place on fire. And throughout my time doing that, I have taken down each and everyone member of your team in “Big Match” scenarios.
Including yourself.
Isn’t that the craziest stat? I haven’t done the most robust research on this, with the whole “I WANTS THE BABY!” gig I have been on all week, but I am pretty sure that only in OUR match is there someone who has defeated EVERY member of the opposing team in “Big Match” situations. Isn’t that NUTS?! And it’s because of that amazeballs fact, and your own inability to not understand the Coalition beyond the scope of your own mediocre abilities and card placement, that your team is not only going to lose, but it will be manhandled.
My team? It includes Pain and Paradox, the aforementioned DonoZane which makes the lady parts of hawt albino chicks quiver (again, go back and check it out; I KNOW you skimmed until you saw your name, Mizore!), Lucky, a former champ who is loving how awash he is in all the possibilities, and the single most dominant, sought-out, sought-after, loved, cherished, respected, and, lets be honest with ourselves, WORSHIPED, member of the roster: Me. The four of us are nigh unstoppable! Mostly because of me. Obvs.
And our team? The only thing which binds you together is the hatred of me. Or at least the burning desire to take back the L I handed to all of you. Check it:
Lucy Wylde: Is DYING to prove that me RIPPING AWAY her Cross-Hemisphere Championship, and thus ending the most impressive title run for the division in YEARS, was a fluke. Oh, she might say otherwise, but her little shots about being “napped and capped” over the months are a wonderful indication that I am, to borrow a phrase, living rent free in her head. She is SO PISSED that my life with Kenzi is magical to the point of us basically being two Disney Princesses, while hers is more about living in an emotional gutter the likes of which only Maggie would call home, that she is blinded by her hatred so much that she doesn’t realize how shitty her takes on wrestling have become. Oh! Bonus: Kenzi and I are basically Tiana and Charlotte in those fanfics where they are the cutest lesbo couple in the history of fanfics. But don’t tell Kenzi that! She’ll get all, “Yo! I’m not gay!” on you.
Kem Dynamo: Oh! Speaking of shitty takes! Kem is SO SHOOK over what happened leading up into Chill #3 that she’s probably STILL shaking with anxiety whenever she sees my name! Oh, I’m sure she thinks she putting on a brave face when she goes on her “PLEASE LOVE ME, SARAH” activities on Twitter, where she is CONSTANTLY seeking my approval, but I and my entire Legion of Interns know better. Hell, I don’t even need to tell them to respond with spray bottle gifs anymore! Well, except for when I had to fire Number Fifty-Seven for using a “Kill it with fire” gif instead, but hey, you can’t blame him for wanting to kill Kem with fire, ya know? N-E-Way, the truth of the matter is that, while simultaneously quaking with fear and being filled with the urge to throw up from the anxiety, she is also dying to have another go at me. Mind you, if she and I DID find ourselves facing off again at Chill, it would go even WORSE for her the second time around. And it won’t be any better at Outlast, either, because everyone in this conversation knows that the only time she #ShinesThroughTheDark is when she is face-to-face with a zucchini or kabocha.
Konrad Raab: Okay, truth be told, Raab probably isn’t filled with some burning desire to beat me at Outlast. I mean, people hand him Ls at a faster rate than they even hand you, so really, in the case of Raab, I’m just not that special!
And then...so you and I are clear…
Mizore Payne: You SHOULD be burning inside with violent anger (plus 10 #CoolPoints if you get that video game reference!) at the idea of handing me one of those rare Ls. I mean, not ONLY did I WIPE THE FLOOR with you at WrestleStock on my way to the final, I ALSO have that incredible distinction of being the person who has beaten both you AND your girl (is she still your girl?) Maya Jensen. And you SHOULD be full of anger over that because I have bragged about it. Like, a lot. Because of that whole #EyesOnMe thing I do. So, you SHOULD be all “IMMA MURDER YOU” like you were guest-starring in a pointless Court or Nekkie promotional video. But you’re not.
And why?
Because your fire is as hot as your ring name, dearie. Naught but the heat of winter. Outside of wins over Step-Mumsie and Kem, both of which came WAY after they were fashionable or impressive to do so, you have done NOTHING worthwhile in this company. And that trend of “meh” is going to continue at Outlast. Because your team, outside of an understandable hatred of me, has no reason to work together or become a unit, and you lack the skill and drive as a leader in order to bring them together. But my team?
Oh, dearie.
Oh, dearie dearie.
We are going to slaughter you.
Here’s me doing that thing where I call my shot.
You ready?
You sure?
Here we go.
75% of my team is going to make it to the final round. See, I’m not saying that we are going to make it a full 100% total elimination of your team. I mean, I highly doubt Raab can pin a single person over here, even IF Hastings ends up being the cardboard version of himself, but surely SOMEONE on your team will be able to. So, no, not 100%. But certainly 75%. And after we get to the final round? After the bell is run and there is one person outlasting everyone else?
It will be ME holding up the World Title.
And you know what kinda sucks about this whole thing?
Unless a teammate of yours fills you in...you probably don’t even know that the title is on the line.
Enjoy your obscurity, dearie.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Sar?”
What the? Where am I? Where is everyone? The crowd is gone. The Outlast teams are gone. My own team is gone. Its just me and Kenzi.
“We need to go.”
She sounds different. Why does she sound different? Softer. Kinder. Why am I cold? Where is everyone?
And then I know.
The Abyss.
“Please don’t make me.”
“Baby, we-”
“I can’t do this, Ken. I can’t handle this. Not this.”
She takes my hands. She feels warm. God, she feels good. I’m so cold.
“We survived the fiasco with our marriage license. We survived Jacob. We survived Aveline. We can survive this. Together.”
None of this makes sense. But I understand it. I don’t want to face this. I can’t face this. But she is right. I must. WE must.
“Together. Into the dark.”
We turn and face the cold, the void of light which has sucked all of my friends into its dark depths. We walk hand-in-hand into the Abyss.
“She’s back with us”
Red eyes open slowly, the hazy world refusing to come into focus. Doctor Andrews is sitting next to Sarah, his tired and haggard face full of concern. Two nurses, pretty older women she had seen many times this year, were at her other side, one holding her hand, another putting away a jar of smelling salt. She could see Kenzi off to the side in a chair, her face wet from tears and worry.
“Wh...why…”
Trying to talk made her dizzy. She licked her lips and tried again.
“Why...am I on the floor?”
She was slowly brought up to a sitting position and then Kenzi was there, holding her hand. Kenzi’s grip was cold and clammy. Why? What was wr-
Cysts.
Ovarian cysts.
She cannot have children.
She was barren.
She sat duly as her lifelong doctor explained in greater detail. Yes, it was theoretically possible that she could have children, but he not only didn’t recommend it, he strictly forbade it. Her mother-
Her mother.
Her mother had died when a ruptured cyst had become infected.
A cyst which had ruptured when she gave birth to her only child.
Sarah had teased Kenzi mercilessly throughout the week. She had pre-registered for their baby shower five years ahead of time. She had made her listen to name after name from the baby book and why they would be good names. She had set up an online countdown clock called “WE HAZ BABY!” She had even conspired to purchase an $8000 watch for their baby’s Sweet 16 birthday party to be given to their child in 2039.
A Sweet 16 present.
For a child who will never be born.
She walks in a daze as Kenzi takes her out of the doctor’s office. Through the waiting area. Down the escalator. Out the front door. Into the waiting Uber.
Kenzi held her as she wept in despair.
~~FIN~~
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