Be Gay Do Crime

"Everything okay?"

Ashe stared at the message, the implications loomed over her like the Sword of Damocles. She wanted to answer, to chat up Crystal into the night, but to do so would be a weight around her neck dragging her down into the dark, never to rise back to the light. So, instead, Ashe set her phone to silent and curled up in bed for another shit night's sleep.

The constant nightmares plagued her with all the worst possible variations on how their little robbery could have gone wrong. One of which was so vivid that when she woke, she had to forcibly remind herself that she hadn't left a man to drown in his own vomit. The imagery was so visceral that she found herself rushing to the restroom and emptying her own stomach.

Thankfully, her parents hadn't been there to smother her. They were either still out, or asleep in their room. She hadn't bothered to check. Jasper at least whined and tried to comfort her, which was sweet of the big ol' fluffer and she curled up against her snuggle buddy and tried to relax.

When the morning sun began to peek into her room, she just grumbled and got out of bed, accepting that she wasn't getting more sleep. The worst part of it all was when she checked the weather and realized it was Monday.

She had school in a few hours.

Was it too late to just call in sick? No, that would just give them an easy excuse to carry out disciplinary actions against her. She had been lucky enough that they gave her the assignments she'd missed, not that she had made much progress with them. Her injury made it so she couldn't write all that well. Realizing how far behind she was, she grabbed what she hadn't already finished and set up in the kitchen to get through it.

Jasper followed her in and sat down by his dish, tail wagging as she put on a pot of coffee from Mother's stash and popped some tarts into the toaster. She ended up frowning at her hand when she had a crazy idea.

Rather than deal with numb fingers, she opted to try writing with her left hand.

She barely ever used it, not since she broke her right arm as a child, but now it might be a necessity. She knocked out what she could of the assignments, her handwriting slow and shaky but at least legible. Next, she retrieved her math homework and within two questions Ashe was growing frustrated. She swapped back to her right hand, hating how much she was struggling to write out the equations with her left. That added layer of thought needed was messing with her head, but her attempts to write normally fared little better.

She just might have to become left handed after all.

The idea wasn't thrilling to her, but Ashe didn't want to admit that it might be permanent. She wasn't ready to accept that, or more accurately, she was afraid to entertain the thought. She was halfway through the equations when someone else entered the kitchen and poured themselves a cup of coffee. Ashe glanced over to see her mother cradling the cup as though it were ambrosia.

Although, considering the cost of the blend she favored, it may as well have been. Ashe watched as her mother took a seat across from her, sipping at the brew despite closed eyes. She finished up the last of the equations while waiting and was just starting to pack things away when she noticed piercing eyes upon her.

"Good morning, mother," Ashe said sheepishly. "Sleep well?"

"Not at all," she said, then took another pull from the cup. "That shit show in Sutton was bad enough, but then we had an overdose in Antioch that led to a massive bust. Ashe, there's no easy way to tell you this, the man was one of your assailants."

Ashe swallowed heavily, all but certain that she was about to be busted for her involvement in that whole mess. For a moment she worried that they searched her room, but there hadn't been time for that, yet. She could feel a cold sweat forming and a deep dread settled into her stomach as she steeled herself for the coming reading of her rights.

"Yeah, it was a bit of a shock to me when it was passed to my desk," her mother said, knuckles turning white around her cup. "They aren't sure if he will survive, and a part of me hopes he won't."

The vehemence in her mother's words startled her out of her spiraling thoughts, and Ashe found herself once again wrestling with her decision to help the man. She had done the right thing, given him the best shot at surviving that she could, punch to the face aside, yet those dark thoughts kept creeping back in. She's almost relieved it wasn't just her thinking those things.

"It's okay to want him hurt, or worse," her mother continued. "He hurt you, violated you in a way that will never fully leave you. It's okay to resent him for it, but you should never feel guilty for it. He chose to hurt you. Remember that it wasn't your fault. This is all on him."

Ashe couldn't help but picture the man staring up at her with empty, glassy eyes. She could almost hear his breathing come in harsh and shallow gasps, as his color faded and he slipped away. She could have left him to die but she chose to save him. He'd been the one that chose to use those drugs, much like he'd chosen to attack her back in the alley. She'd done nothing to him to deserve what he did to her.

Ashe stood up abruptly and stepped around the table to pull her mother into a hug. "Thanks mother, I needed to hear that."

"Anytime Ashe," she answered, returning the embrace. "You have all your homework done?"

"Unfortunately," she said. "I don't suppose I can skip another week?"

Her mother shook her head. "Afraid not. It was like pulling teeth just to get you the time off that we did. The school is looking for excuses to expel you, please don't make that any easier for them."

Ashe sighed, making sure everything was in her bag. "There are days where it's difficult to care. Today is turning into one of those, so don't be surprised if you get a call."

Her mother hummed. "We could probably argue that any minor outbursts as lingering psychological trauma from the attack, especially if it is caused by someone provoking you over what happened. Just try to avoid anything blatantly illegal and I'll be happy to pretend to be indignant over whatever it is."

Ashe nodded. "So try to stop short of punching someone in the face, got it."

Mother gave her a harsh look and pursed her lips, only to be interrupted by Mom stumbling into the kitchen.

"It's too early for this," her mom said, yawning. Her hair was still damp from the shower that seemed to have done nothing to wake her up. She went to the coffee pot then scowled when her cup was left less than half full. She turned a withering glare upon Ashe and her mother, but both just raised their cups in unison. "Cheeky. You're both lucky I don't have caffeine in me yet."

"All part of the plan," Mother said as she ducked out of the room. "By the way, I'm giving you a ride to school, so get dressed. We'll pick up breakfast on the way."

"I should have cooked," Ashe grumbled, but complied.

Those tarts had been more of a snack than a meal, and her parents would have appreciated the warm breakfast. On the other hand, she might not have finished her homework in time if she had gone all out.

A quick shower and a basic outfit later, Ashe found herself hopping in an unmarked police car with her mother. True to her word, they stopped for breakfast and Ashe grimaced at how typical cop it was to stop for donuts. She picked something basic, trying to avoid the added sugar. It might help her wake up, but the crash would hit her twice as hard.

"I meant what I said," her mother said when they were a few blocks from the school. "If you need to stand up to someone trying to weaponize what happened, I will do everything I can to cover for you."

Ashe felt her cheeks warm and she looked away. She knew her parents cared about her, but moments like that still caught her off guard at times. It only served to make the guilt from yesterday return two fold. She had broken into someone's home, stole a ton of money and drugs, then called the police on them.

The worst part of it all, she enjoyed it.

Working alongside Crystal, the thrill of doing something blatantly illegal? Nothing she could think of compared. Ashe knew she could be an adrenaline junkie at times, she enjoyed theme parks too much to deny that, but it didn't bode well that she could get a similar rush from crime.

She pulled her phone out and stared at the unanswered message from Crystal. Swallowing down her anxiety, she began to type. They were just pulling up to the drop off zone when Ashe finished her message. She stared at the screen for a moment, then before she could lose her nerve, hit send.

"When do we get to meet her properly?" Mother asked.

Ashe fumbled her phone, scrambling to catch it and failing, causing it to clatter to the floor of the car. Ashe groaned, much to her mother's amusement, then undid her seatbelt and retrieved her phone. No return message awaited her, so she pocketed the phone and opened the door.

"We aren't dating," Ashe said after a moment.

She started when her mother actually barked out a laugh at that. "Oh honey, don't fool yourself. The only reason a u-haul hasn't been booked yet is because she's being overly cautious because you're a hair under eighteen. She's young enough that it's within the bounds of the law with our permission, so really, she's just being stubborn."

Ashe huffed, but didn't disagree. "Whatever. I'm going to head into hell. I'll see you this evening."

Her mother snorted and waved her off as Ashe made her way into the school proper. She was thankful that no megaphone antics followed. Street preachers and protesters alike hounded her for months when she first started, and would crop up from time to time over the course of her freshman year.

The sterile halls greeted her like the gates of Tartarus, yet all she could do was square her shoulders and walk confidently. The stitches along her arm were on full display, a public testament to her surviving what should have been her death.

Students watched her, whispers following in her wake, but no one dared to confront her. Ashe made her way to the office first thing, the secretary looked up with bored disinterest which upon seeing her immediately dropped into thinly veiled disgust.

"Can I help you?" the woman said with a sneer.

"I need to turn in my work from the last week," she said easily. She made a show of reaching into her bag, her stitches on display as she did and retrieved the papers. "Do I need to hand them in individually? I'd like to get that out of the way before classes begin in full."

"Yes but I'm not your errand girl. You can handle that yourself," the secretary said with incredulity.

Ashe smiled. "Then you won't mind writing me a pass so I have time to get that done first thing? I am still injured in case you didn't notice."

The secretary glared at her, but began to write out a yellow slip, muttering about privileged freaks as she did. Ashe took it in stride and looked over the pass, which excused her from being late to homeroom. That was good enough for her, so she made a hasty retreat back into the hall and towards the nearest class on her schedule.

The bell rang just as Ashe handed in her last assignment and she made her way to homeroom in seeming peace. She half expected Jessica to be waiting with her entourage but she hadn't seen even a hint of the woman. Rachel and Heather were there in her homeroom when she entered, both looking rather alarmed at the sight of her arrival.

"Mister Hamilton, you're late," the teacher said.

"And you're still living up to your name Dickens," Ashe said with a bright smile. "I have a pass."

She handed it over and moved to take her seat without preamble and felt her phone vibrate. She didn't check it though, worried that the Dick would just take it out of spite. He began to ramble about the new time period they were to cover, but Ashe tuned him out. The revisionist history being taught in classes across the state was such a joke that she considered it a self study period, or nap time.

She pulled a book from her backpack as well as a notebook. Inside were printouts from the previous week's history assignments. She would need to update those once she figured out what Dick was lying about this week. It took a few minutes, but she found the time period and had to stifle a laugh.

Fall of the Roman Empire.

That settled it, self study for the foreseeable future. Ashe set her book up and subtly pulled up her phone while Dick's back was turned. Crystal had answered her, and Ashe could only smile as she sent a grinning emoji back. She could answer properly after class, so she closed the messenger app and opened her browser, pulling up the Wikipedia page for that era and began to take notes on what events to look deeper into. She didn't care about regurgitating the version of events that the Florida schools insisted on teaching, she cared about the truth and passing the national tests.

When the bell rang, Ashe made her way to the next class, she was still expecting Rachel or Heather to grab her and set something up for Jessica, but both girls gave her space. That continued through the morning, and Ashe felt her dread slowly growing. Something was being planned, she could feel it. By the time lunch came around, she knew something was wrong. Jessica wasn't there and her two book ends were both looking almost physically ill.

She continued messaging Crystal about easy topics and put their problems out of her mind. She didn't want to think about their activities the day prior, because if she did, she would need to confront the part of her that wanted more of that rush she had felt. Ashe got up to leave the lunchroom, the staff restroom across the school calling her name when the trap was finally sprung.

Ashe stared at Rachel and Heather, watching as they… Seemed almost apprehensive. She blinked, unsure just what she was seeing. Neither girl seemed in a hurry to speak up, but when Ashe tried to push past, they moved back in her way.

Bladder issues forced the matter and Ashe had enough.

"Either say it or get the hell out of my way."

Both girls started, and even Ashe was surprised by the steel in her voice. The pair looked to one another, a series of non-verbal gestures serving as communication before Rachel sighed and spoke words that Ashe had silently wanted to hear for years.

"Jessica is missing."

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