Chapter Text
#┆Rockburn .ᐟ
❝ He was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it anymore obvious?❞
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RODRICK
“Rodrick Heffley?”
His name was called like an incredulous question.
All of his teachers had their hands tucked in their pockets when he passed.
Out of the entire staff line-up, Rodrick saw it coming from Mr.Hardy the most; a guidance counselor that’d stopped seeing a future for him in Sophomore year. He’d gone as far as to fold his hands behind his back when he reached to shake it, staring off into the crowd with a painted smile. Towards what really surprised him.
In the vast sea of family and friends that’d come to support their loved ones on the biggest night of their lives, his father sat tightlipped with his arms crossed in the front row. His mother, sitting beside him at the edge of her seat, looked as happy as any mom could be on the day their first born graduated from high school. Even Manny, clung to Susan’s arm, looked happier than Frank did as he helped their mother wave an over-size sign above their heads. And of course, Greg was slumped in the seat next to him, like he wanted to vanish into the velvet. Somehow, though, Rodrick didn’t blame him.
But why wasn’t his dad happy?
He didn’t think it was such a wild thing that he was graduating. Rodrick thought he’d done enough extra credit and make-up assignments to earn him a spot on this stage, next to his friends. Though the way Principle Farnell looked reluctant to hand him his diploma told him everything he needed to know. With an audacious grin, he plucked the tiny scroll from him and went to wedge himself in between people he knew. He didn’t bother waiting to see if the man would shake his hand, either.
Farnell moved on to the next student, “Heather Hills.”
Ben Segal slung an arm around his shoulder as he neared, lowering his voice. “There’s been a change of plans, don't freak out.”
“I wasn't even aware we had plans to begin with and you're telling me not to freak out?”
“Rachel told me that Heather’s moving her party to tonight.”
Rodrick offered a dry chuckle. “So?”
“‘So’?” Ben scanned the side of his face. “It's open-mic tonight. Your favorite. Rachel says she'll talk to Heather about letting us play."
“Well, I wasn’t invited. You remember why, right?"
There was a thoughtful pause. The Incident, named only because nobody wanted to think about it long enough to give it a more creative name; Heather Hill’s Sweet Sixteen. You only make the mistake of crashing a girl’s birthday party to serenade her only once. Sometimes, the memory and the painful reminder of the embarrassing aftermath kept him up at night.
Ben held his face in a tight cringe. “We. . . Live, learn, and grow. We were inexperienced, now we're not.”
“And how’re you gonna get the traitor to play tonight?” Rodrick jerked a thumb further down the line-up where Chris stood with his graduation gown over a fresh, clean suit, hands neatly folded in front of him and staring ahead.
Their friend, if such a title were still relevant, had ditched them right before their junior year. But Rodrick had felt the distance long before then, when he started going on about the future and where their choices would inevitably lead them. He got his driver's license, got a job in between classes, bought a car, and rumor has it he was on his way to some University further north. Not that it was a bad thing to change your life around, Rodrick thought. But it was an awful lonely thing to have to do.
“I wasn't talking about Chris” Said Ben. “I was talking about me, you, and Rachel. She wrote some songs that she wants you to check out, and they're fuckin' killer. Just think about it, okay? For old times sake. And redemption.”
And that was the bait on the hook that lured Rodrick in: Redemption. The word felt to him like the strike of a match against the tense surface of his skin, an impending promise written in bold on the faces of everyone who ever doubted him. There were a lot of words to be used to describe him, lazy the most prominent. But no one could question his relentless drive when he put his mind to it. When he was determined, nothing got in his way. All he needed was fuel to his fire.
The entire senior class, after being called one by one to collect their diplomas, stood in a neat line going across the back of the gymnasium stage. Principal Farnell tapped the microphone standing at the center of it — three times exactly — the sound of him clearing his throat echoing in the overhead speakers as he adjusted his tie.
“Let’s give a nice, loud round of applause for Crossland High’s graduating class of 2006!”
It was so easy for Rodrick to pretend that they were clapping for him; holding the rocker hand symbol high above his head with his diploma in the other as the crowd stood to cheer.
Susan was the first out of her seat, clapping the loudest. Even from where he stood, he could see the gloss in her eyes, genuine and proud. She didn’t care how he got here, just that he did. Rodrick liked to think that it was all that mattered, anyway. That, and where he could go from here with nothing but his drums and his voice.
Rodrick chanced another look at Frank, just in time to see him wedge his fingers between his teeth and let out a loud, earsplitting whistle that’d made everyone in close range jump. Maybe he’d hallucinated a bit, but he could have sworn he also saw the corner of his lips twitch upward into something that could be mistaken for pride. As unclear as it was, Rodrick didn’t think he needed a cue to be proud of himself.
It wasn’t like anyone helped him to this stage.
Posing for the final picture, Rodrick held his diploma higher. Like they were all one big happy family that’d ever keep in touch after this. As soon as the photographer lowered his camera, Heather Hills rushed to the front where she met her family and friends at the edge of the stage, her mother snapping more pictures with her LG while her little sister stood further off to the side with a more professional-looking camera to capture the moment. He watched the brief pause as Heather waved Mrs.Hills off and pulled Rachel Lewis closer, reaching for her sister’s camera only for the girl to pull it from her grasp just before she could snatch it.
Rodrick could not hear what was said due to distance and crowd, but after a short-lived argument, they were getting into another photo position.
Ben was grinning near his ear. “I dare you. No — triple dog dare you.”
He didn't even need to look beside him to know they were wearing twin grins. As Holly Hills aimed her camera, Rodrick’s feet moved without thinking in sync with Ben’s; his eyes met with a blinding flash just in time for him to catch Heather in a side-hug and for Ben to dip Rachel like a bride and kiss her. Heather shrieked, slapping him repeatedly in the arm with her floral-pink painted graduation cap while he laughed along with their former classmates.
And Holly was giggling, too, waving her camera at her sister. “Oh, don’t worry, Princess. Every picture automatically backs copies onto my laptop. These are going on Myspace.”
“You upload those? And you’re dead.” Heather hissed with an accusatory finger before turning her fit towards her mother. "Mom!”
Mrs.Hills waved her off. “Fond memories you’ll look back on later.” She looked to her youngest and jerked a thumb towards the exit. “Pack it up. We've gotta leave now if we want the house ready by six. Your cousin’s already an hour out.”
Rodrick took a shot in the dark. “The party, right?” he made it a point to sigh, his sad-looking eyes sliding back to Heather as he added, “Well, I hope everyone else has fun tonight.”
Heather stared him down, jaw tight, as Mrs.Hills turned to him. “You’re not coming?”
Innocence was a look that he’d mastered by now. “Oh, unfortunately, I’m not exactly —”
“Ready for the party,” Heather cut in, slapping a hand over his mouth. She nodded with her head further down the aisle they stood in. “Your family’s waiting. Why don’t you go home and get yourself. . .” she trailed off as she did a one-over of his attire. “Together. But, you know, give it a few hours for the party to get set up fully.”
There was another flash from the side. Rodrick took advantage of the distraction to lick her hand and watch her jerk it away, rubbing the saliva on her skin on the front of his graduation gown..
“Holly!”
“Last picture, Heather. Pinky promise.” Holly pulled the strap of her camera holder around her neck and sent him a final wave as she made after her parents. “See you and Greg at the party, Rodrick!”
Heather sent him a final, wilting glare before her eyes snapped to where Rachel and Ben were butterfly-kissing. “Rachel! Let’s go. I don’t have all day and I need at least two hours and some help to change and do my make-up.”
Rachel waited until Heather turned to roll her eyes. “Coming!” She gave Ben a parting peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you two at the party. And Greg. Tell him to make sure he brings that bottle he promised!”
How the hell did Greg get invited before he did?
Rodrick ruminated on it for only a second before Ben had his strong hands on both of his shoulders, steering him in the direction to where Susan had her arms out for him and Greg staring off in the direction where Holly had vanished, trying to keep a hyperactive Manny in his tight grip.
His mother greeted him with a big wet kiss on his forehead. “My baby boy! My graduate! You’ll never guess what we have waiting for you at home.”
Immediately, Rodrick looked to Greg, who looked back at him with a look that almost looked like he pitied him. In his head, he prayed that it wasn’t what he thought it was. Not if he wanted to be able to make it to Heather Hill’s graduation bash; nothing sounded better to him at the moment than a shot of Smirnoff Ice chased by a Mountain Dew. But his mother was rubbing her hands together and quickly moving with her purse towards the exit in a way that made his heart sink.
Rodrick went ahead and took a guess anyway. “A cravings box from Taco Bell all to myself?”
Susan gave him a pointed stare. “Ah-ha. Funny. A very close guess.” She took Manny’s hand from Greg and nodded towards the doors. “Come on. Your father went to put the banner in the car.” Before she turned to leave, she sent an encouraging smile beside Rodrick and said, “and congratulations again, Ben, it was nice seeing you. I hope you join us later!”
It was never, ever easy.
Rodrick caught little brother by the arm before he could walk too far. “Spill.”
“The whole family’s at the house waiting for us. For you.” Greg said. “At least try to act surprised, yeah?”
Ben did not hide his cringe. “Rodrick,” he said when Susan was out of earshot. “Please tell me you’re prepared to sneak out, man. I have to get goin’.”
Greg went to follow him out, but Rodrick yanked him back and glared. “Hey, spitwad, according to recent lore, somehow you were invited to that party tonight, too.” He crossed his arms when Greg tried to shrug. “And the fact that I’m just now finding this out tells me two things; one, you were planning to sneak out and two, since I’m planning the same thing, we can help each other."
He almost didn’t trust him; Rodrick could tell by the extended silence. Which was insane to him, considering that he’d been under the impression that they came to a sort of agreement years ago. It wouldn’t be their first time sneaking under their parent’s noses to party together and he had a feeling it’d be a tradition that they’d ride into their old age with.
He was hoping that his little brother, at sixteen-years-old, had reached an age where he could find him cool.
When they reached the double doors, the three of them paused at the glass and stared across the lot where the Hills family rode by in their car before they could cross the gap towards parking. Holly was staring right at Greg through her window when she passed, giving him a small wave and smile.
Before Rodrick could roll his eyes, Greg turned to him. “What’s the plan?”
His little brother was growing up. Was this foreign feeling in his chest perhaps pride?
By the time they made it to the car, Frank was closing the trunk while Susan buckled in Manny.
“The plan. . .” Rodrick trailed off, lowering his voice to a whisper as they slid into the back of the car. “I don’t have one.”
Greg snapped back quietly, “you literally just said that you did.”
“I didn’t say I did, I just said that we could help each other."
“That obviously suggests that you already had something in mind.”
“Well, you’re the orchestrator between us!”
“So then,” Greg began, simply, “let me orchestrate and trust that I’ll come up with something later.”
Their mother interrupted, cautious yet sharp. “I hope those aren’t argue-whispers I’m hearing.” She gave them that look Rodrick always hated as she clicked Manny’s seatbelt; her head bowed slightly and her eyes peering over the top rim of her glasses. “Let’s keep the energy positive today, boys, ‘kay?”
“We weren't even arguing!” Greg exasperated.
“And it better stay that way.” Susan warned before closing the door.
The car started moments later. Rodrick and Greg exchanged one last look; An unspoken agreement. An alliance.
♪ ♫ ♪
REGINA
Before her cousin hated her, she remembered being told that it took genuine love to create a real enemy.
Cuts are only made deep enough up close. Sometimes when you least expect it. Other times because you let it even when you saw it coming. “Love” had always been described to Regina as a rare, fickle concept; ever-changing and completely spontaneous in a way that should be more terrifying to people than it is.
What could possibly be strong enough to conquer all?
Regina sensed her abyssal presence even before they even made it fully in the foyer. There Heather was on the staircase, the devil herself with her loyal demons sat on either side of her, in a pure white diamond-hem dress that’d make her look like an angel to the untrained eye. And to make it worse, she had the heels and the nail polish to match.
And she didn’t even acknowledge Regina’s nor Kylie's existence as she lowered her hand mirror and looked right past her to their father.
“Sorry, my Uncle Davey told me never to talk to strangers.” She stood. “He also said that he’d have a big surprise for me whenever I graduated.”
“Well,” Regina’s father grinned as he held out an envelope to her. “Did he happen to also teach you not to accept mysterious envelopes from strangers? Because in that case, I can take whatever’s in here and the surprise back out the door with me if I don’t get a hug in the next five seconds.”
With a growing smile, Heather pushed her make-up bag in her friend’s hands and rushed forward with her arms out for David to catch and spin around. When she landed back on her feet, she took the envelope from her uncle and ripped it open.
Regina’s eyes widened with hers and snapped to her father. “You got her a $500 gift card to Victoria’s Secret?”
“Why not?” David chuckled. “You got a $800 giftcard yourself, didn’t you?”
Regina frowned. “To Club Libby Lu, Dad. The only way I could even go without looking like a total dork was to take Kylie.”
Heather gave a dreamy sigh, her eyes briefly shining towards the foyer chandelier as if she were reminiscing. “I absolutely loved that place, Gini.” When her friends giggled at that wretched nickname, she added casually, “it’s a very memorable, magical experience for a little girl, you know.” She looked behind her. “Wasn’t it, what, my twelfth birthday?”
“I think. . . tenth, actually.” Rachel pointed the end of her nail file at Regina. “Wait, weren’t you with us? I could’ve sworn you were with us.”
Heather gave an unusually lady-like snort. “No, she got super sick the day we were supposed to leave. She was like, throwing up everywhere, remember?” When they left, she turned back to her. “Well, hey, at least you finally got to go. Get in touch with your inner childhood magic and all.”
Regina wanted to remind her that the only memorable, magical experience she had as a little girl was putting Nair in her shampoo and watching her squirm while they shaved her head.
“Well, when me and Regina went it was the greatest day of my life.” Kylie gave her sister’s arm an affectionate squeeze. “We got our make-up done, bought new clothes, and took like, a million pictures in the mall photo booth.”
Regina gave an awkward, almost timid laugh. “Only because you were too young to go into Victoria’s Secret. Duh.”
“But that’s not what you said, Regina, you told me that Victoria Secret was a whore-store.”
Her mother slapped a hand over Kylie’s mouth while her father shot her a dirty look. “Regina.”
“Don’t ‘Regina’ me, she’s the one that said it out loud!” She glared back at him and gave her little sister a nudge towards the door beside the staircase that led to the kitchen. “Kylie, make yourself busy and go see what Holly’s doing. Shoo.” With her best attempt at an innocent look, she looked to her father. “How long did you say we were staying here again?” She made it a point to look around the foyer with her lip curled slightly. “I’ve seen Red Roof Inns bigger than this.”
“Personally,” Heather volleyed with a raised brow. “I wouldn’t know. You’d never catch me dead in one of those.”
“Well if that’s all it takes then name the place and I’d be happy to pay for it myself.”
“I doubt you can afford it if you’re crying about a Victoria Secret giftcard.”
Slowly, Regina’s molten stare slid to her mother.
Immediately, Fiona looped her arm through her husband's before he could cut into their banter. “David, honey, let’s go find your brother and tell him about your big promotion, Mr. University Dean, hm?” She began to lead him away, but paused near the staircase where Heather’s friends sat, “Heather, could you girls be a couple of dears and get our luggage from the car. Oh, and show Regina to the guest room?”
The only one that had her back. Regina had to grin as Heather offered Fiona an inevitably fake smile that she held until they left. Like evil had just materialized right in front of her. Even after two years without having to see each other, it was obvious that Heather still had no desire for a fresh start. Which was fine by her.
Regina, as if she were holding a used napkin by the tips of her fingers, dropped the keys on the floor before Heather’s feet, walking away before she could object. Or kick them back in her direction. “I can find my own way around.”
“You don’t even know where to go, genius.” Even without looking at her, she could feel Heather burning holes into her back on her way towards the stairs.
“You don’t wanna talk to me, I don’t wanna talk to you.” Regina spat behind her. “Just do what you were told and worry about my luggage, please and thank you.”
Heather rolled her eyes. “Slut.”
“Bitch.”
And before she vanished up the stairs, she made sure that Heather got a good look at both middle fingers aimed in her direction.
Regina wasn’t sure what agitated her the most; how disgustingly big their new house actually was compared to hers or trying to navigate the top floor despite denying any help. It had a strange square shaped hallway and a large hole in the middle that looked like she could see the kitchen below if she bent over the bars. Maybe she’d be able to shout for directions, but she'd rather go through every room in the house instead.
The first was her aunt and uncle’s, judging by the Chicago Bears jerseys hanging on one side and the glass cat figurines lining the walls on the other. After a brief sweep with her eyes around the room, she turned as a door opened behind her, further down the hall.
“About time you guys got here.” Holly tucked the strap of a rather large camera under her arm. “What are you doin’ in mom and dad’s room?”
“It’s my first time here since you guys moved, remember?” Regina pointed her chin to the room behind Holly. “That your room or Heather’s?”
Holly reached behind her and closed the door. “Heather’s. Don’t tell her I was in here. I was just getting my camera back.”
Regina sauntered over, eyeing the door with vague curiosity; watercolored flowers riding up the door in light green vines, the colors oddly bold against the white wood and a single large petal curling around the letter ‘H’. Even before it closed, it would have been obvious whose room it was if she’d gotten a better, longer look at the decor inside; the blinding pure white and pastel peach lace bedding set should have been a dead giveaway.
Her eyes swung to Holly’s, then dropped to her camera, arching a brow. “Why’d she take it?”
Holly hesitated. “Regina. Whatever this is, please leave me out of it this time.”
Regina crossed her arms, her look of bewilderment frighteningly convincing with the way she cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips before saying simply, “I was just going to ask to see the pictures, Holly.”
“You wouldn’t have asked if I literally didn’t just tell you I had to take it back from her room.”
A snort, followed by a laugh. “Are her nudes on there or something?”
“No,” Holly said. “I’m just. . . Cautious. I don’t want a repeat of last time. I don’t think anyone does. We had to move, Regina. You know that my mom didn’t want to even invite you, right?”
“No offense, but what Aunt Lorrie thinks of me holds very little weight to me after she schemed with the daughter to ruin my life. All I did was get even.”
Regina turned to look out of the window, where she could see the parking lot from the window. Heather and Rachel were standing beside her family’s car talking in wild hand movements, the trunk wide open and their belongings scattered near the wheel, like they’d dropped everything. Either that or Heather went sniffing where her nose didn’t belong, as usual.
“And besides,” she went on. “After her stupid party, she won’t have to see my face ever again. I’ll be an adult on my way to Northwestern and I’ll be too rich, successful, and busy for her to even be a side-character in my fabulous life. So,” she held her hand out. “Can I just be a normal loving cousin that’s invested in your passion for photography?”
“Spare me.”
Holly moved to stand beside Regina, rolling her eyes as she fiddled with the buttons of her camera. “I was gonna post these anyways. It’s just a couple of shots of her on stage. With Rachel. Mom and dad. Me.” Then she grinned. “Oh, and there’s this guy Rodrick that I think she has a crush on. He photo-bombed her at graduation and I just happened to be there to capture the perfect moment.”
“Who the hell hates their child enough to name him ‘Rodrick’?” Regina scoffed, “Let me see.”
“Oh, no you don’t.”
Both of them looked up as Heather dropped two bags at her feet and advanced forward, swiftly snatching Holly's camera with a wicked sneer and a nasty glare that she slid between the two of them. Though, she was sure to make it obvious where she directed most of the fire from her eyes. Regina gave her an unsettling, malevolent stare.
Heather continued, “First off, the second guest room that you’ll be staying in is on the other side of the floor.”
“Good. Seems far away enough that I don’t have to listen to your man-snoring.” Regina shrugged.
With a scoff, Heather passed the camera behind her to Rachel. “Far away that I don’t have to deal with your sleep walking. It’s fucking creepy, by the way.” Her eyes snapped to her little sister. “And second off, Holly, I do not — nor will I ever — have a crush on that pathetic, low-life degenerate. It’s insulting that you think I can't do better than a drummerboy who's probably going to spend the rest of his life smelling like his mother’s attic.”
“How did you even know that his room is specifically in the attic?” Holly asked.
“How do you know that it is?” Heather inquired. “From Greg? Not all of us want to settle like you, Holly.” She made to move past them towards her room. “And I’m hiding your stupid camera where you’ll never think to look. Rachel!”
“Coming!”
As she passed, slower than she needed to, Rachel gave Regina a look that felt like long before closing the door behind her; music blasting from the other end only moments later. It was amazing how some people never changed. Never thought that perhaps self-reflection was due when closing a chapter in their life. After all this time, Heather still didn't think. Not like Regina had; she had all the time in the world to think in the space of her hospital room, confined to a bed by pain killers and a neck brace. Nothing but space to sit and imagine a future where she never grew up. A future that looked grim and passionless.
Blue eyed veering to the side, where Holly stood with her fists balled and her expression tight, Regina hummed thoughtfully. “So, who’s Greg?”
“It’s complicated.” Holly replied with a bitter edge. The brief silence that followed was considering; thoughtful. Then, she added as a seemingly last second thought, “and I think we both know that who you’re really asking about is Rodrick.”
“Really? What gave me away?” Regina chuckled. “Again, I could just be interested in my little cousin’s life. We barely talk outside of family functions. It’s sad.”
Holly side-eyed her.
Regina raised her hands in a weak mock-surrender. “You caught me. I just want the dirt.”
“What made you think there’s even any dirt?”
“Holly, honey, have I done something to make you believe that I’m an idiot?” Regina leaned against the wall. “If she didn’t have some sort of weird, freaky thing with his drummerboy, she wouldn’t have fought this hard to keep me from seeing who he is."
“My question is why does it matter to you this much?” Holly pressed. “Unless your general objective is to repeat history. And I don’t know about you, but I have no intentions of moving schools again because of you.”
Again, Regina cocked her head. “You’re still protecting her. I don’t get it. Why?”
“She’s still my sister.” Holly pursed her lips.
“A bad one. Doesn’t seem to have changed much.”
“From my angle, Regina? It doesn’t look like you have, either.”
“Ouch. At least my little sister looks up to me.” Regina bent to grab whatever begs that she could off of the ground where Rachel and Heather dropped them. “Well, I guess that makes it a trio, then. You’re still a non-confrontational coward. And here I thought you finally grew the balls to stand up to her after all this time.” She propped one suitcase on their rollers and strapped the other one over her other arm. “Come talk to me when you want your camera back.”
Holly looked like she wanted to say something until her phone rang in her pocket. She took one look at the screen, held her breath, then looked to Regina as if she’d forgotten she was even there. “I don’t have time for this — whatever this is.”
Regina watched her take off towards the stairs and, out of curiosity, followed her to the railing but stopped at the top. “Where’ya goin’?”
“Doing someone a favor. You know, when you do something nice for someone you care about regardless of whether or not you’re getting something out of it?”
Regina only hummed.
“Unbelievable.”
Holly rolled her eyes, snatching a jacket from the hook and disappearing out the front door with her car keys.
♪ ♫ ♪
RODRICK
“Surprise!”
The only reason it was easy for Rodrick to fake a big smile was because he actually was surprised to see and smell a Taco Bell buffet spread along the entirety of the dining room table. His mother knew him well.
The only issue was that there were a bunch of people holding Dollar Tree balloons around it.
His grandfather was the first at his side, his grey, shaky hand holding out a suspiciously thick-looking envelope. “I knew you could do it, boy, I knew it all along. So I took the money that I won and put it in there for you. Buy yourself somethin’ nice.”
“By the way, that’s from me, too.” Uncle Gary, already tipsy and smelling of budweiser and cigarettes, added from the living-room recliner.
With a critical eye, Frank watched his son pocket the money before it narrowed in on his father. “He’s going to spend it all on video games and terrorizing kids at Chuck-E-Cheese. When I graduated all you gave me was a pat on the back and thirty days to move out.”
“I paid the down deposit for that apartment and the U-haul, didn’t I? What I do with my bet-money is my business”
Rodrick frowned. “Bet?”
“Lets — just open the gifts later,” Frank began loudly, steering Rodrick towards the dining room table by the shoulders. “And show Rodrick the triple chocolate layer cake we got that cost $130 dollars.”
Sure enough, there was a large two-layer cake with his face sitting like a prized center-piece amidst the massive array of wrapped tacos and cinnamon crispas. The fact that they managed to perfect his devilish grin and the mischievous glint in his eyes with buttercream was impressive to him, admittedly.
Susan frowned. “Frank. I said vanilla. Triple chocolate?”
Frank made a vague gesture between Rodrick and the cake. “What’s the matter with chocolate? He likes chocolate. You like chocolate, don’t you, son?”
He didn’t. But still he gave a flat “yeah” and squinted his eyes at the details; what could have been a recent photo of him as a cool-looking, mature adult was actually a kindergarten picture of him throwing his middle finger up at the school photographer. “At least it. . . Has my face on it. That’s sick.”
His mother sent his father a withering look while Uncle Gary looked over his shoulder and laughed.
Greg said from the other side, “I call dibs on the corner piece that doesn’t have any part of him on it.” He made to grab a plate, but Susan held an arm out to block his way.
“Wait. What about the candle? Frank,” she snapped her fingers towards her husband. “He has to make a wish.”
Aunt Veronica, who sat at the end of the table nursing her fifth beer, watched Frank throw his hands up and make his way towards the kitchen without argument. “Susan, you and this dumb tradition. It's a graduation, not a birthday.”
“Wishes are supposed to be made at every major milestone in your life.” Susan insisted, matter-of-factly. “It’s important that a person knows what they want and needs to help them get from one point to the next.”
It was a rare occurrence that his mother typically said anything that held some weight to him. But sometimes, she had such a surprisingly poetic way of wording things that Rodrick actually had to stop and repeat it in his head until the meaning fully sunk in. If one could pretend that a wish had any fraction of a chance of coming true with absolute certainty, what would it be?
He thought about it so hard that he’d dissociated. Until the lights turned off and a candle was being lit in his face like he was turning another year older. Like he was a little kid again on the one day he was put on pedestal. And in a way, that’s what it felt like; an accomplishment despite the odds.
There was a newfound thrill in being a step higher than people said he would. All on his own.
If he could ask for anything to carry behind beyond this point, what would it be?
When he felt man enough, he blew out the candles and at once, the room erupted with cheers and claps.
Greg lowered his voice to a whisper near his ear. “I hope you wished for a distraction.”
Rodrick twisted to send him an exasperated glare. “You cue-tip, you seriously haven’t thought of a plan by now?” The corner of his lip lifted. “I give you one goddamn job.”
“Would you just shut up for just a second?”
In a way that was cinematically coincidental, Greg lifted his pointer finger towards the door just as the doorbell rang. Rodrick took a step towards it, but Greg pointed to the ground. He didn’t move, only smiled as their mother’s voice rang out from deeper in the kitchen.
“I got it!” Susan did that quick tip-toe towards the door, flattening her clothes and fixing her hair. “Probably Janny, but I’ll be shocked. I didn't think she’d really come.” She gave one last lick and thumb-wipe of her brow before opening the door.
Holly gave a big smile. “Mrs. Heffley!” She rushed forward and gave Susan a hug. “Did I miss it? The candle blowing? Cake?”
Both Rodrick’s brows rose. His eyes lingered behind the girl, like Heather would be standing behind her.
“I, uh,” Susan pivoted on her heel, looking at Greg, and did a brief reset before snapping her fingers and pointing back to Holly. “Believe me, we’ve got plenty of cake, Holly, it’s so nice of you to make it. Where’s Heather?”
From across the way, Holly and Greg shared a look. From behind Greg, Rodrick was giving a look that appeared both hopeful and curious at the same time.
“Well.” Holly chuckled, looking so believable that it was impressive. “Wondering if Rodrick is coming to her graduation party, of course. Greg texted me that he wasn’t sure if they’d be able to make it tonight and I just thought I’d bring these by so they didn’t miss out.” She lifted two white paper bags and gave them a gentle shake. “My mom likes to bake.”
Had he stepped into a new realm of reality? Because it was the only solid explanation that he could find other than lucid dreaming.
Greg took over, stepping next to his mother and slowly reaching out to take the bags with an unfortunate smile. “Thank you, Cesmína. Did the party already start?”
“Ten minutes ago.” Holly replied. “I actually have to head back there soon. Almost . . . everyone’s already there.” Her hazel eyes briefly swung to Susan, then back. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Can I make it up to you tomorrow?” Greg looked to Susan. “Is that okay? Are we gonna be busy tomorrow, too?”
Susan stared between them.
“Oh, I —”
She looked behind her to Frank, who shrugged, then looked to Rodrick, who stood there like he was witnessing an actual puppet come to life. As soon as he noticed her, he closed his mouth and decided to play along, his face dropping while his mother’s calculating gaze lingered on him.
“Well,” she finally said. “Actually, I don’t think we’ll be doing much after this, really. And I’m sure Rodrick can open his presents later.” She turned to her eldest son in question. “You guys be back by a decent hour, please?”
Rodrick wasted no time jumping up and letting out a whooping cheer, “you got it, lady, save me some cake!” He pointed to Greg. “Let’s go before she changes her mind.”
The three of them ran out of the door like bandits — as they rushed to Holly’s baby blue slug-bug, Susan called to them from the door, “and no drinking Rodrick!”
“Yeah, yeah!”
Rodrick moved to take the front seat, but Greg flipped the passenger seat back before he got the chance.
“I call shotgun.” He jerked his thumb to the backseat. “I came up with the plan, I ride in the front.”
And Rodrick was too elated and dazed to even argue with that. At first. He climbed into the back, hunching slightly from how small the car was compared to his height and flinching when the passenger seat flung back. “Your plan was just to call your girlfriend. I could’ve done that.”
“If you had a girlfriend to begin with.”
Holly thumped him on the forehead. “Greg!”
“Thank you, I didn’t feel like reaching up there.” Rodrick squinted at his little brother. “And I’ll have you know, Heather’s waiting for me. Remember?”
“Actually,” Holly grinned as she started the car. “I just said that so she’d be more likely to let you go. Greg says your mom’s pretty emotional.”
Greg began to laugh. And this time, Rodrick actually did make the effort to reach around the front and pinch him hard near the neck, jerking his hand back before Greg could slap him.
“So,” Rodrick spoke again, this time slowly, “Heather’s not waiting for me at the party? Like, is she even still cool with me coming?”
“Don’t think she has much of a choice now, since our mom knows you’re coming.” Holly said. “But I'd stay out of her way. Like, I’m pretty sure if she even sees you near the karaoke machine she’ll have an aneurysm.”
Rodrick’s face twisted.
“Noted.”
♪ ♫ ♪
REGINA
She didn’t know why, but she wanted to see those photos.
She wanted to know who Rodrick was, and why he was such an astronomically big deal.
Regina and Heather had known each other their entire lives. And Regina supposed that it was a double-edged sword to both know and be known by your enemy. As a matter of fact, she didn’t think she could ever think of a time when Heather wasn’t just there. She knew how Heather moved. Her favourite things. The things she hated the most. When she was angry. When something bothers her more than she lets on. When she was lying.
Heather knew that Regina knew, probably. Regina knew, that Heather knew, that Regina knew.
She had to get that camera. And maybe it was repeating history, but sometimes lessons had to be learned twice. Especially when the other party took the coward’s way out as soon as Regina started getting good at her game.
But for now, all she could do was sip her suspiciously strong-smelling drink and eye the make-shift stage in the middle of Hill’s massive back yard; where Heather and another one of her unknown friends sang Irreplaceable before a large crowd. They’d taken the last three turns and did their grand finish before passing the mic off to a couple of football players that opened with Bad Day. To her, it wasn’t any less ridiculous than two years ago when that guy had sung Justin Bieber and ruined Heather’s dress, but she supposed humiliation rituals were less embarrassing when planned.
“Are you seriously not gonna sing?”
Regina didn’t need to turn to know who the voice belonged to, even after so long.
“Wow. And here I was thinking you’d go this entire time pretending not to know who I am." She looked Rachel up and chuckled, gesturing towards her deep beige dress with the rim of her cup. “Let me guess, she wanted to be the only one wearing white today? I knew I should’ve brought my Dior dress.”
Rachel frowned. “Gini.”
“Oh no, don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that.” Regina shook her head and turned behind her to the drink table to refill her cup. “You picked your side. Die there.”
“What’s that even supposed to mean?”
“I said what I said.”
Regina unzipped her purse and pulled out something suspiciously flask-like, tipping a good portion of it into her drink. “No but seriously, like, why are you talking to me? I highly doubt your new best friend gave you permission.”
“I. . .” Rachel picked at her nails for a moment. “Thought I’d ask you to sing with me. Like we used to. Remember?”
As if it were a reflex, Regina raised her liquor and laughed. “Now I know she didn’t give you permission to do that.” With foreboding suspicion, her eyes narrowed. “Seriously. Why are you talking to me?”
It’d been two long years since they last spoke at Heather’s Sweet Sixteen, the only interaction between them being the friend request on Myspace Rachel sent her two months ago that Regina had yet to respond to. For some odd reason, she kept expecting it to vanish like it was never there.
She kept expecting Rachel, who stood there staring at her with something that looked an awful lot like hurt, to vanish.
But instead, she briefly pursed her lips and again gestured to the stage. “Because we’re adults now.” She said, “And I just want you and Heather to sign a peace-treaty and grow up so me and you can actually put the stupid past behind us. Please.”
“Grow up. Hm.” It was said more like an observation than a question. Regina swirled the ice in her cup. “Are you doing that thing that weak people do when they want to avoid accountability and conflict by telling the one who was wronged to be the bigger person?” A theatrical eye-roll and a weak gag. “Annoying.”
“Regina —”
“Rachel, honey, let me tell you something.” Regina began. “I have a long list of things that I would rather do than go on stage with my villain origin story and sing with her like she didn’t pick my snake of a cousin over me. For example, I’m sure you heard that I got hit by a bus once. I’m willing to go outside now and try my luck again if it’ll get me out of this conversation.”
Rachel said nothing. At first. But the look on her face — considering and almost defeated — was enough vindication for Regina to feel satisfied enough to walk away.
“She invited Janis, you know. Here.”
Regina paused. Her face twisted, and she only turned half-way. “So?”
Another pause. “I just thought you should know.” She went on, “and I also thought you should know that she hid Holly’s camera in her bra drawer.”
This time, Regina faced her fully. “Why are you telling me this at random?” She hedged. “Like, unprompted and for no foreseeable reason.”
“Just because.” Rachel shrugged. “I’m a good friend.”
“Debatable.”
Regina was more irritated at her vagueness than not being able to get the last word, but she still watched her walk away without the urge to call out. And for a moment, she watched because she wanted to see where she went after.
Straight across the yard to Heather and her group, smiling and going over the song list like she wasn’t just fraternizing with the enemy. A great and terribly painful wave of nostalgia hit her at the reminder of how it used to be the other way around; Heather the enemy, and Rachel at her side plotting on how to get back at her. When life was simple and she had someone real at her side. Or at least, she thought.
It wasn’t until Rachel pulled her boyfriend on stage with her, and everyone was distracted, that Regina thought she could think better inside and away from the noise.
In the kitchen, Holly had her arm looped through a random guy’s and was talking with David, who sat at the island with a thick envelope and a bright yellow gift-bag flooding with tissue paper.
“Dad. Don’t tell me you got her something else.” Regina stared at the bag like it’d combust if she glared hard enough. “Don’t you think an $500 gift card is enough?”
David’s eyes swung to Holly. “I’m gonna go put this on her bed.”
Regina watched her father leave so quickly and without another word, like he couldn't get away from her fast enough. though her demeanour switched completely when she turned to the unknown man at her little cousin’s side. “You must be the famous Greg that I’ve heard so much about.” She held her hand out. “Nice to finally put a face to the name. And this goes without saying but if you hurt my cousin, I’m gonna have to, y’know, ruin your life. Don’t make me do that, alright?”
Holly rolled her eyes. “Greg, this is my cousin, Regina. Regina, this is my . . .”
“Boyfriend.” Greg took her hand and shook it. “She’s still shy about saying it.”
Holly swatted him on the arm while Regina studied him carefully through squinted eyes.
After a solid ten seconds of filing through memories and coming up with nothing, Regina let out a quizzical hum. “Greg. You look oddly familiar, have we met before?”
“Uh,” Greg did a slow scan of her face, then shook his head. “You look like someone my brother would hang with. Or, try to hang with. He was barely invited here.”
Holly’s smile fell as she looked between them. She shifted her weight towards her boyfriend and re-looped her arm through his, this time taking his hand, too. “Speaking of, we should go find him, I’m sure he’s somewhere around here.” And before Regina could ask, she was pulling Greg outside.
Leaving her alone to drum her nails against the countertop in thought.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there thinking of her next move, watching people go in and out. Watching the stage and how her cousin was having such a good time. Watching how the gift table grew bigger and bigger with each person that joined the party. It grew loud. It grew irritating. And she wasn’t sure why a good party was bothering her of all people.
Her focus lingered on Heather as she jumped on stage and ripped open her first gift, pulling out a brand new pair of light blue Beckham sunglasses and looking around like she expected to be able to rub it in her face.
The camera. The envelope. The giftbag.
What was so different about this gift that her dad had to separate it from the others?
Regina pushed herself up from the counter and made her way upstairs, where the hallway had been closed off by the glass door dividing the floors. To her left, hanging on the sill of the window nearby, was a bell with its string weighted down by a photo of Heather and Holly; both smiling like they didn’t want to strangle each other at the time. She unhooked the bell, placed it around the doorknob, and kept going until she reached Heather’s room.
With her ear to the door, she held her breath to listen in case anyone was inside. But there was no time to sit here and loiter when her curiosity was killing her.
Heather’s room looked the same that it had for years. Baby blues, browns, and yellows woven into a california ocean design that made the room look like a pastel beach; light palm trees and hibiscus flowers painted on the walls. Throw pillows shaped like waves and starfish. Flower beads hanging from the ceiling and trailing all the way to the closet that stood floor to ceiling with polaroids and a vision board decorating the door. There were pictures of jeeps and ocean front houses, along with a poodle in a diamond collar.
Regina snickered as her eyes swung from sticky note to sticky note of varying affirmations like “actress in the making” or “rising star”. Though what really made her laugh and turn away was “professional trend setter”.
There, on the perfectly neatly made bed and leaning against the headboard beneath a make-shift Hollywood sign, was that painfully bright yellow giftbag overflowing with sky blue tissue paper.
Maybe it was jealousy. She could be big enough to admit that much. But whether or not what she did next was justified because of it was debatable.
She snatched the bag and dumped everything out on the comforter.
A stuffed Wildcat. A deep, electric violet t-shirt with a University Logo on it. A very thick envelope. Regina’s heart fell before she even had a chance to open it.
She pulled out the first thing her fingers could grasp; something carefully folded into a small square that she had to flatten out to read:
Congratulations ! You’ve been accepted into Northwestern University !
The big, silly grin of Willie the Wildcat felt like a daunting taunt by fate. Even worse, her father’s official signature at the bottom; Dean David H. George in jagged scripture-like cursive. She felt sick. She felt lightheaded. She had to sit down.
But she only had seconds to do so before she heard the bell.
It was like instinct, how fast she moved to stuff everything back into the bag and look around the room as alarm went off in her head, a timer seemingly in bold before her eyes as she rushed to the closet and threw herself inside, slamming the door behind her and moving as far back as she could until her back hit the wall.
Or, the solid chest of someone tall.
Before she could scream, a hand flew over her mouth and pulled her back so tightly into their embrace that she swore she could feel their heartbeat drumming against her back. Regina could smell the strong scent of dark liquor and Old Spice and the heated pulse of his hand almost trembling on her lips.
Outside the door, the door flung open and the light flickered on; followed by a pair of determined footsteps that didn’t stop until they reached the middle of the room.
“See? She’s not here.”
Rachel.
Someone that sounded an awful lot like Heather scoffed. “Oh, yeah, right. She was so determined to get her hands on Holly’s stupid camera for whatever weird reason.”
“I mean, you’re so determined to hide it from her, though,” Rachel pointed out, in a knowing tone. “For whatever reason.”
There was the sound of drawers opening and closing. “What are you accusing me of, Rach?”
Through the thin bar closet window, Regina could see Rachel give a half-hearted shrug. “All I’m saying is that they're just graduation pictures.”
“They aren’t just pictures." Heather shot back. “To an opportunist whore like Regina, it’s ammunition.”
“Since when did Rodrick become ammunition?”
“Since when did I even say anything about Rodrick?”
A pause. The figure that held Regina seemed to tighten his hold on her, his breath — smelling strong of fireball — suddenly shaking in her ear.
“I’m just saying,” Rachel repeated, “that the only pictures Holly even took were of us and Rodrick. What, are you scared Regina’s gonna see him and steal him?”
Heather scoffed. “She couldn’t steal him if she tried. Aaron was different, he was a lying, cheating pig and he got exactly what he deserved when Regina turned around and cheated on him like I told him she would. Like i don’t know my own cousin. But Rodrick? He’s like a dog. And they’re loyal. He’s been gunning for me since we got here and if years of devotion doesn’t tell you something, I don’t know what will.”
“So, you like him?” Rachel hedged. “Rodrick, I mean.”
The rise and fall of the man’s chest grew heavy.
Eventually, Heather just said, “whatever”. Which, was a resounding ‘yes’ in their generation if she ever heard one.
Regina strained her eyes as Heather leaned against her dresser with Holly’s camera in hand. “And if you tell anyone I’ll fucking deny it. Seriously, Rachel.”
Rachel pursed her lips. “And what about Janis?"
Another pause, more tense than the last.
Heather set the camera down and wandered to sit on her bed. “Oh, my God. Rachel. Look.” The first thing she did was pick up the poster, her light pink gloss widening into a large smile as she held up the picture of Willie the Wildcat with the signature of a traitor. “I got in. I got in!”
Rachel took the poster. “Northwestern? Seriously? You never told me you applied."
“I mean, my uncle told me to apply months ago but I wasn't sure I’d get in until he was promoted to Dean.” Heather kicked her feet in excitement, her heels hovering above the wooden floor as she laid back on her bed, then set back up. “It’s pretty prestigious, you know.”
“I know, but. . . You know that Regina’s going to, right?”
“Ha! So?” Heather laughed. “No matter where we go, nothing will change. She’s going to learn there, like everywhere, that there’s a hierarchy and that she’s naturally below me.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” Rachel cringed.
Heather stood. “The fact that she drove me out of the city and you’re expecting me not to take this opportunity to retaliate is wild.” The sound of her footsteps clicking and the shadow of her figure came dangerously close to the closet. “But whatever. Let me just grab my flats, these heels are killing me.”
Regina pushed her and the man back against the wall in a small fit of panic, just as the the sound of the bedroom door opening fro across the room made Heather pause just as she reached for the handle.
“Heather, Mom needs you outside like, now.” It was Holly coming in like a saving grace. “I think one of your friends spiked the punch and I think Kylie just bit into a pot brownie. She wants you to kick them out.”
Regina jerked at that.
“Why can’t she do it?” Heather argued.
“It’s your guest. Now come on before she calls the police on him or something.”
Heather groaned the entire way out. Regina waited a minute after the room beyond went dark and the door closed before giving the man a hard elbow to the ribs and practically flying out of the closet, whirling around to meet the face of her captor after rushing to turn on the lights.
“What kind of weirdo just hides in a girl’s closet during her graduation party like a creep?” she demanded. “Do you have absolutely no goddamn shame? The hell’s the matter with you? If anyone should have the cops called on them and escorted out, it’s you.”
The man — with his dark rugged hair and his sleeveless black band-shirt that was ripped at the collar — only stared at her dumbly and quietly. Like a trance, his dark eyes doing a slow scan of her from top to toe.
Regina snapped her fingers in his face. “Hello? Is this your first time seeing a woman up close or what? I asked you a question. Why the hell are you just lurking in my cousin’s room? Did Heather even invite you?”
The man’s eyes snapped up to meet hers. “Who?”
“Uh, the host of the party. Heather Hills?”
He blinked like he’d snapped out of something. “Oh. Oh. Yes, I was just —”
“Hiding in a woman’s bedroom because you don’t know how to charm her the normal way?”
“Oh yeah?” The fucker had the audacity to grin. “I’d love to know what would charm you.”
“Flowers, blankets, sex, attention, and a bottle of Pink Whitney.” This time, Regina looked him up and down. “But from the looks of you, you don’t seem like you’d be able to afford half of that.”
He took one step closer to her. “I’m broke, you’ve got me there. But if you want flowers, I’ll steal you some out of a neighbour's yard. With you? Attention won’t be a problem. And it’s just a coincidence that Pink Whitney is one of my favourites. Goes good mixed with Sprite and a shot of strawberry grenadine.” When she crossed her arms, he snickered. “And as for sex, we can lock the door if you want.”
Regina made a face. “Not on your life, stalker, and you didn’t answer my question; your name.”
“You never really asked for my name.”
“Well, I’m asking now.”
Rodrick tipped his head in a similar way that she would have done. It was infuriating to be on the other end of that.
“Rodrick Heffley.” he finally said, and Regina’s sneer fell. “Now is this the part where you steal me away from your cousin? Not that I’m one to believe rumors or anything. Just hoping this one might be true.”
She had to look him over again.
Once. twice. Then a third and final time.
She had to laugh.
“You didn’t answer my other question.” Regina went on. “What are you doing in Heather’s closet?”
“Well, at first I thought I might find a diary up here. Wanted to see if she really liked me. Heard a bell from outside the door and decided to hide. Missed my chance to maybe take a bra as a souvenir. Now I’m not sure I even want it.” Rodrick shrugged as the corner of her lips lifted. “Hey, at least one of us can be honest. What are you doing in Heather’s room?”
“She’s literally my cousin. How do you know that I’m not supposed to be here?”
“Because if you were, you wouldn’t have been in the closet with me.”
Rodrick went on, “that and if I remember correctly, sweetheart, I think I heard her refer to you as. . . what, an ‘opportunist whore’?”
“Really? Because she called you a low-life degenerate earlier.” Regina smiled. “Do your parents hate you, by the way?”
Rodrick just laughed. “See this? This is cute. Pretending that you weren’t looking for me.”
“I was.” Regina moved to the door, hanging half-way out of the hall. “But honestly, one look at you is enough to see where my cousin’s mind is and I hate to be the one to break the news to you, but I don’t know what she sees in you.”
She went to close the door, but Rodrick caught it before it could slam.
“I don’t care about what she sees in me.” he said. “I care about what you see in me. You mean to tell me that you can look at me and not like what you see?”
Regina stared at his face. His stupid grin. His messy black hair. The way his dark brown eyes held a mischievous spark in them like a lightning rod absorbing a strike. The wild look of a free man and spirit. He looked like he was already slightly tipsy; looking at her like he wanted to unravel the tie of her hot pink sundress and watch it drop on Heather’s floor. Loyal, like a dog, her cousin had said.
She inched her face to his, until she could see the blonde in her hair reflecting off of his gaze. “The only thing I see in you is desperation.”
She slammed the door behind her, but stood in front of it longer than she should have afterward. Maybe to see if he’d leave after her. For some reason, she waited for his next move like it actually mattered.
But the hall was silent. The distant cheers and screams of family and friends below partying without a care in the world broke her out of whatever fleeting spell she’d been under. The one strong enough to make her entertain the very thought of attraction to a man that essentially held her hostage in a closet.
But Heather was right about one thing.
Regina George was an opportunist. And Rodrick Heffley was the opportunity.