k a r r i s

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Berkley has always been my bodyguard. She was my strong-willed, resilient best friend who often went to great lengths to protect me. Since we were kids riding our bikes, Berkley had never failed me as a guardian. Even when I was an awkward kid gracing the halls of Brampcrest, and she was strutting though the corridors as one of the best dancers at Willowridge, Berkley still had my back.

And today, it was my turn to have hers.

To say that Berkley was exposed would be the understatement of the year. The intimate photographs of her body she secretly shared with a boy who she seriously liked had been leaked. And those pictures weren't just passed around in the exclusive circle of male jocks-- they were shared with the entire student body at Willowridge High.

"Slut,"

"Attention whore,"

"Tramp,"

Berkley's personal choice was greatly scrutinized by the whole school, and embarrassment was a vigorous current that swept her deeper into sea. I held onto my best friend on that Tuesday morning, using my body as a shield. But despite my attempts to protect her, the nasty words of our peers still pierced her like a bullet to the heart.

"Berkley!"

I turned my head, and so did my best friend. We both found Tegan and the rest of the dance squad sauntering towards us with a spine-chilling valor that couldn't be replicated by any normal teen.

"I warned you," Tegan declared, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised.

"Tegan, this isn't the time," my voice wavered and was soft, but for Berkley, I had to learn how to stand up to the dance captain for the two of us.

"You're not in this conversation Karris," Tegan shot me down in an instant before curtly turning back to Berkley.

"What do you want?" Berkley was in tears, cowering before the dance captain.

"Your uniform," Tegan demanded, holding her hand out like she was waiting for lunch money to be dropped into her palm.

"What?" Berkley breathed, sudden shock dripping from her already distraught face.

"You're off the team," Tegan announced. "I told you to fix your behavior and considering the circumstances," she paused, holding up her phone to display one of Berkley's nudes, "your sluttish actions do not uphold the Thunderbird integrity."

"You can't take her off the dance team for that!" I argued, finding strength within me, "those photos weren't for the public eye! Berkley is one of the best dancers on the team."

"She ain't hot shit," Tegan chuckled, actually amused by all of this, "besides, we can't have someone on the team that goes against everything the Thunderbird dance team stands for. When word gets out that we have a harlot on the team, Willowridge dance will no longer be on top. We'll be seen as a farce; our credibility will be taken away and so will our sponsorships."

"You're kicking Berkley off of the team because you're scared that your precious sponsors will back out of donating money to the team?" I was appalled by Tegan's words, nauseated by her intolerable slut-shaming.

This was not okay.

"Please don't kick me off of the team," Berkley begged, and my best friend never begged. "Dancing is all I have. I'm sorry Tegan, I'll do anything. Don't take the team away from me."

In my ten years of knowing Berkley, never have I ever seen my friend so vulnerable than in this moment. When a nasty rumor about Berkley losing her virginity in the back of a car spread throughout Willowridge during her Sophomore year, she didn't falter-- my best friend dropkicked the jerk who started the lies. When the dance team's racist ex-coach accused her of stealing money due to her Hispanic heritage, Berkley exposed the truth and got that coach fired. And when she found her mother bruised up because of her dad, my best friend rose from the ashes and did all she could to defend her mom.

But for the first time ever, Berkley was on her knees.

"You're pathetic," Tegan smirked, glaring at Berkley with pleased eyes-- she enjoyed every second of this. "Never thought I'd ever see you on your knees, even though I know you enjoy being on them."

Our peers in the hallway did nothing to stop Tegan's tirade. They only watched, gawking at the scene before them as they mercilessly recorded every moment for social media receipts. I hated this. I hated seeing Berkley so hopeless as Tegan dangled every ounce of pride Berkley ever had above her head like she were luring in an animal.

"Please Tegan, I'm so sorry. The dance team is all I have," Berkley bawled, fingers laced together as she looked at the dance captain with pleading eyes. "I need this-- my dance scholarship, university, a chance at success... please."

I stared at Berkley with a heavy heart before darting my eyes to the dance team. There was no way that the rest of the team were as horrid as Tegan, were they? But as I waited for someone on the team to do something, even glancing at Mollie for a moment who I knew had a heart of gold, Tegan sighed. She flashed a smile, and for that millisecond I thought her mind had been swayed. But unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

Tegan cackled evilly like the villain she was, "I'm sorry Berkley, but I can't have a slut on this team."

And with that, Tegan turned on her heel. She and the rest of the dance team followed her down the hallway like mindless drones. Berkley bursted into tears, letting her her body catapult onto the linoleum floors. She shook with sadness, with guilt, and with embarrassment.

"Come on," I tugged onto Berkley's arm, bending down to pick up my best friend while the rest of the hallway just watched. I turned over my shoulder to look at the crowded hall, wondering if anyone was going to do anything.

I was pissed.

However, the amount of anger I had for my fellow classmates was about to multiply tenfold. Luke and a few of his hockey teammates sauntered through the hall at perfect timing. They playfully pushed each other, laughing, and having a grand freaking time, while my best friend was in shambles. As the rest of the school stared in awe at the Willowridge Gods approaching, I instead stared in vexation at the tall blonde.

"Whoa! What's going on here?" Luke gazed at Berkley with wide eyes. The rest of the team followed suit.

"Luke Hemmings you're a jerk!" I shoved him, eyebrows narrowed and anger coating my tongue. Luke teetered slightly but quickly regained his balance-- he was far stronger than I.

"Karris, what's wrong?" Luke looked confused, which amused me to no end because he was the source of everything wrong in this situation.

"You're a playboy!" I broadcasted in ire, "you flash your smile; you wink; you hypnotize with charm, and for what?! To take advantage of a sweet girl? You might be a hot shot on the ice Luke, but off it you're nothing but walking disaster."

I didn't give Luke time to react, I swiftly turned around, quickly picking up my best friend off of the floor. We shoved passed Luke and the hockey team who continued to stare in shock. I noticed Berkley turn over her shoulder to glance at Luke with distress in her eyes. She was hurt, but her heart was soft and I couldn't let Berkley fall back into Luke's addicting magnitude.

"Tara," I told her, and while I spoke the words in my native tongue, my best friend understood.

(translation: let's go)

Berkley turned back around, leaving Luke to bask in his eff-boy behavior. I held onto her while the whole school watched, whispering stupid crap as I did my best to protect my friend. When we reached campus doors, the first bell rang but we walked out together anyway. We quickly headed to her car and upon seeing the vehicle, Berkley pulled out her keys from her denim jacket pocket. She pressed the button, the car's lights flashing before the two of us entered her car.

We sat unmoving and silent for a a few minutes before Berkley finally looked at me. She turned in her seat with a small smile on her tear-stained face.

"Thank you Karebear," she breathed, "for everything. You're the best friend a girl can have."

"Anything for my sister from another mister," I grinned, leaning over the middle console to pull Berkley into a tight hug.

"I'm so stupid," Berkley whimpered into my shoulder, "I can't believe I trusted Luke. I hate him so much."

"You're not stupid," I assured, "he's stupid. You'll be fine."

"I can't believe I'm off the dance team," Berkley separated from our hug, "my life is ruined as it is."

"Your life isn't ruined. It'll get better," I had to be hopeful for Berkley, she needed me to be strong.

"Karris, I was counting on that dance scholarship to get me into University. You know my dad-- he's not going to pay for my school. My mom doesn't work... I have no other options," Berkley continued to cry, each word coming out with a crack to her voice and a chip to her heart. "I promised my mom and my siblings that I'd save them. I dreamt up this perfect future where I would dance for the L.A. Lakers or the Dallas Cowboys or for P. Diddy. I'd make more than enough money to get my mom out of that house and away from my crazy father."

"I don't see why you can't do that. Berkley, it's still possible. You can save your family. If not by dance, then by something else. You're smart enough to get into University and there are other scholarships out there," I aimed to make sure Berkley could see the light at the end of the tunnel. She couldn't lose faith in herself otherwise she'd give up, and I wouldn't let do that.

The two of us continued to talk-- serious topics for a while till homeroom ended. When I stepped out of her car and waved to my best friend before she ditched the rest of the day, I took a deep breath. I had a gut feeling that school was going to be tough that day. Berkley wouldn't be by my side, I was on Tegan's hit list, and to top it all off, today was the big home game against Brampcrest.

I proceeded through the rest of the school day with caution. I made sure to blend into the crowd even though it was difficult. Everyone kept staring at me and there were several reasons why. Not only was I the best friend of the girl whose breasts were out there for the world to see, but I was also the twin sister of the murdered hockey captain who had a reputation for leading Willowridge into numerous victories against Bramocrest.

I hated the spotlight.

I was so uncomfortable the entire day that I was glad for a hockey match. Home games meant being dismissed early from our last period of the day, and I was able to run out the door of my English class at top speed. I headed into the girl's locker room, where I knew I could be alone.

Buzz. Buzz.

I grabbed my cellphone from my backpack that hung on the hook of my gym locker. I looked down at the screen to find a text from my mother.

From: Mommy - 2:45PM
Working late tonight. There's Chicken Adobo on the stove. Come home right after school. Don't go out.

I replied quickly to my mom who had grounded me due last Friday's disappearing act. I thought she was gonna go typical Filipino mom by hitting me with a slipper and talk crap about me to all my aunties before comparing me to my cousins. However that wasn't the case. She took one look at me when I walked through the front door and started crying-- thanking the Lord for keeping me safe.

To: Mommy - 2:47PM
Call me if you need anything. Love you.

Gabe was notorious for sneaking out when he was grounded. I learned his tricks and even wired the house phone to send calls to his cellphone when he needed. I did the same before leaving for school that morning. I also learned, after watching Gabe for years, was to use reverse Psychology on mom and dad-- tell them to call so they don't suspect a thing, which meant they most likely won't call.

My twin was a genius in his own way.

I changed out of my laid-back school clothes and into something coach would deem "business casual." It was customary on game days that the entire team wore fancier clothes during the day, while Coach Benson and I would do the same but at the game-- a suit and navy tie for him, and a skirt and blouse for me.

I threw on a white blouse with a scalloped collar, and paired it with a pleated, navy blue tweed skirt that stopped just above my knees. As I tucked in my top and proceeded to zip up my skirt, I heard the heavy locker room door open. I didn't think anything about it, until I realized it wasn't a fellow female who entered the locker room.

"Ashton!" I screamed, "what are you doing in here? This is a girl's locker room! I could've been naked."

Ashton shrugged, "it's nothing I haven't seen before. Well, you are lacking in the boob department so maybe I haven't seen it all."

I cringed at his statement. If it weren't for Ashton's crude remark, I totally would've been mesmerized by him. The hockey captain was still dressed in his game day attire-- black slacks, white button up shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbow, and a skinny navy blue tie. I couldn't deny it, he looked really good.

"What do you want?" I questioned, crossing my arms above my chest. "Today's been horrible and I don't really need your abuse right now."

Ashton sighed, plopping down on the bench next to my folded up sweat pants. I leaned against the lockers and just stared at him, waiting for him to speak. It seemed like he was struggling to get out the words, which was odd because Ashton always had a big, obnoxious mouth.

"Look, if you're not going to tell me why you're in here, then can you leave? I'd like some alone time before the game. I feel really pressured right now," I turned around to face my open locker, grabbing the navy blue statement necklace that Berkley let me borrow. I draped the piece of jewelry on my neck as I attempted to secure the tiny ring into the clasp.

Suddenly, I felt a pair of warm hands swipe across my skin. My hair was pushed over one shoulder and both ends of the necklace were gently grabbed out of my fingers.

"Here," Ashton whispered, who was now impossibly close to me.

I stopped breathing for a moment, surprised by his gesture. I could feel Ashton's warm breaths tickle the back of my neck as he concentrated on securing the necklace. When he was done, he stepped back and I turned around to stare at him in utter amazement.

I smiled, "thanks."

"No big deal," Ashton disregarded his actions with a simple shrug.

"Was that it?" I questioned again, still puzzled by Ashton's presence in the girl's locker room.

"Thank you," he finally said.

I cocked my head to the side, "what?"

"Thanks," Ashton repeated, scratching the back of his neck, "I suck at these things, dude. Just... thanks for taking this team seriously."

The indifferent expression painted on my face quickly morphed into one of glee and excitement. I flashed Ashton an incredulous smile,

"Are trying to say that I'm a good coach?"

Ashton's face dropped into smooth, unamused lines, "no."

I scoffed, rolling my eyes and turned around to face my locker once again. I rummaged through my toiletry bag in search for a bottle of lotion and some body spray. As I did, I felt a warm touch on my shoulder. I ceased my movements and carefully twisted my head to look at the hand that rested on me.

"If we win today, it'll be because of you,"

I turned back around just as Ashton's hand fell from my shoulder. He was looking down at the ground, kicking his foot like he was nervous or something. He obviously didn't do this often, sharing his feelings, and for Ashton to do that with me of all people, meant a lot.

"Thank you," I beamed, "and it'll be because of you too. You're a good captain."

"Only good?" Ashton shot a hand to his heart with a playful expression, "Villanueva, I'm hurt."

"If you stop being so mean all the time, then maybe you'd be great," I mused with a giggle.

"Not gonna happen," Ashton shook his head, shooting me a dimpled grin. He stepped back again, finishing our civilized conversation before turning away.

I watched Ashton as he walked down the aisle of lockers and towards the locker room door, leaving me both confused and satisfied. I didn't know if it was just me, or if the universe was gunning for me to win at life because Ashton was becoming more tolerable. Yes, he was still a self-righteous jerk at times, but in recently, he showed nothing short of kindness towards me.

With a smile, I brought my attention back to my locker in order to slather lotion on my ashy legs and spritz my body with some perfume. I waited for the locker room door to creak open and then slam shut, signifying Ashton's departure. However, right before doing so, the Willowridge hockey captain's voice loudly echoed,

"I'll see you at the rink Karebear!"

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I felt bad for Berkley the entire time I was writing this chapter. And while Berkley is just a character in a story, her situation is a reality for many girls. It sucks how judgmental people can be. It sucks that being comfortable with your sexuality automatically deems you as a slut, and it also sucks that if you're not sexual then you're a prude. It sucks when girls feel the need to send intimate photos of themselves to get or keep a boy, and it sucks when boys don't respect that intimacy and share it. It just sucks.

End rant.

Hope this was an enjoyable chapter for everyone. Let me know what you think! Also, if you can't tell, I have entered this story into the 2016 Watty's. Please continue to vote, comment, and share this story with as much people as you can! Thank you so much and have a great day! <3