Chapter Text
Welcome to Piltover University!
The behemoth, bubble-lettered sign was mocking her, she was sure of it.
The sight of the same blood-red lettering for the last three years had always been a welcome one. Now, it burned like foul acid on her retinas.
Caitlyn Kiramman had always been proud, and privileged, and unaccustomed to wanting for anything in the world.
Now, the stupid sign just made her nauseous.
More like, "Welcome to Your Own Personal Hell, Caitlyn!"
An abhorrent welcome to the horrendous inauguration of the first year attempting life on her own - cut from her trust fund, severed from any personal allowance or help with tuition. If she couldn't figure out a way to come up with fifty thousand American dollars from thin air by Christmas, this semester would be the last one she spent in college before a very shameful, unceremonious end. Mid-way through the school year, no less. She knew "college drop out" would not look great on her resume. Unfortunately, she found herself stuck between a rock and a worse, harder rock.
She had enough for this penultimate term, and that would drain through the extent of her savings. But it would be just enough. Enough to keep up appearances, to stable her horse, to pay equestrian competition fees, to cover her Greek life dues, to participate in air rifle club, and to put gas in her lavender Mach E. If she played her cards right, none of her friends, sorority sisters, teammates, professors, or classmates would be the wiser. None of them would know just how heinously destitute she had become. And if a miracle lottery ticket showed up in her hands over the next five months, she could probably keep up this charade forever.
The last part she couldn't exactly plan on. But she could not exactly plan for any other source of relief either. She had the same freedom of every other international student - room to breathe, real distance from mum and dad. But the freedom was a double-edged sword. If mum steadfastly refused to take her calls, if she did not have the opportunity to grovel for any sort of resolution, then their falling out would remain indefinite.
Senior year was meant to be life changing! An incredible, top-notch, all-out send off to the last inch of life any of them would get before the dark shadowy storm clouds of adult existence closed in for good.
A dorm room all to herself, parties and dances and flirting to her heart's content. Senior year was supposed to be everything.
Despite the near permanent smile plastered to her face, Caitlyn did not enjoy a single moment of it.
Rush week did not have the same thrill as before. She could not help but feel an envious ache in her temples like a fiery migraine, watching fresh recruits bleed money that meant absolutely nothing to them. Dripping in it, snorting it, smoking it, drinking it. Annoying little airheads, just like Caitlyn used to be. Naïve, money-burning, spoiled, unburdened and genuinely happy little brats.
The first two weeks of classes passed in an instant. Not that she minded. Keeping herself busy with homework and her slew of other activities meant she did not have the time to panic about how she would pay for next semester. Things had been such a blur, that she almost caught herself in whiplash when she received the unexpected email from her college counselor one Friday afternoon:
Caitlyn!
URGENT, VISIT ME ASAP!
-Sky Young
Caitlyn had carefully scheduled her classes to end early on Fridays, giving her time to rest and refresh before a weekend packed with the social obligations expected of every sorority sister. Now, she was anxious, penniless, and missing out on her self care time. Senior year could not possibly get much worse, right?
With a sigh, she snapped her laptop closed, rose grumpily from her silky sheets, and slumped off to the administration building with a decidedly melancholy lack-of-pep in her step.
...
...
"I am so sorry Miss Kiramman, this is all my fault." Mrs. Young was frantically saying , her hands shaking and pressed open over her desk like a trapped animal clenching onto nothing for dear life. "I should have seen this as a red flag on your file, but nothing ever popped up in the system, I swear! The information for your major may have been entered incorrectly, we will never know, really. But the bad news is, there will be no graduating without it."
Dumbfounded, Caitlyn sat back in her chair across from the frazzled counselor. As if she did not already have enough on her plate. "The semester has already started," she said, "what am I to do now?" Her voice trembled, but she held in her tears.
"Today is the last day we can add you to a class to take care of your missing science gen ed."
"My major is art history, why is science even necessary?!"
"I don't make the rules Caitlyn, I am sorry." She sighed and brushed a hand over her frizzing brown ponytail. "Geology Lab begins in an hour, and you can take Geology at the same time next semester."
"Geology Lab?! That will be a class full of freshman!" She exclaimed. "An hour?! I don't even have any of the books for this class. How is this happening?"
Mrs. Young gave her a pitiful frown. "I'm sorry, Caitlyn, but this is the only gen ed science with a spot still open. Professor Heimerdinger will get you set up. I have emailed him already, and he will help you get all caught up before you know it. And, you won't be the only senior. There's one other person, that, uh, this - happened to." She tried an affable chuckle, but it didn't play well in context. "After all, misery loves company!"
Caitlyn cradled her head in her hands and realized there would be no other option but to give in. "What is the classroom?" She moaned through her fingers, resigned and empty. Mrs. Young quietly handed her a piece of paper with all the information she would require.
As it turned out - to her chagrin- senior year could get worse.
Caitlyn groaned as she found herself idling like a zombie out of the counselor's office, thinking that there couldn't possibly be anything else in the world quite as boring as rocks.
...
...
"There's nothing in the world quite as fascinating as rocks." was the first thing the professor said to her as she walked through the door. She had expected nary a greeting at all, let alone such a bold and untrue statement directed right to her the moment she breached the classroom threshold.
"Oh," was all she could think to say in reply.
Professor Heimerdinger just smiled at her. He was a fascinatingly short man with an untamed crop of yellow hair and a voice like the squeaky center of a dog's toy. "Welcome to Geology 102, Miss Kiramman." He swept out one small arm in a flourish, pointing toward an empty seat at the back of the classroom. The room was made up of a dozen tables, with students partnered up two by two. "You can download a digital copy of your textbook later. For today, I have an old paper addition waiting at your seat along with the class syllabus."
"Thank you." She said softly, trying to shake the feeling of 25 pairs of eyes - as entire class full of young college babies - off her back. She made her way to the back of the class, walking slowly to her seat as if she were swimming through viscous honey.
When her gaze fell upon her table partner, she nearly keeled over. Caitlyn had managed to avoid this woman for the last three years, never crossing paths in a class or a party. But she knew of Violet well. Maybe a little too well.
This suave, egotistical jock was the shining star Captain of Piltover's soccer team. A star with a dastardly reputation. Caitlyn was more than familiar, as a queer woman and lover of watching girls play just about any contact sport.
The sight of half-buzzed pink hair, a lip scar, multiple piercings, and a general masc vibe would normally have Caitlyn swooning head over heels - like any other golden retriever lesbian whose wagging tail finds a mind of its own after spotting a fellow gay in the wild. But she knew better with this one. This one would bite.
Violet beheld her new Geology partner like she was a tall glass of lemonade; at high noon, on the surface of the sun. "Maybe I won't die of boredom this term," she cracked smugly, a sinister simper pulling at the edges of her lips. "Here I was, thinking my only view from 4:30 to 6:30 on Fridays would be grimy freshman butt." Violet spoke quietly as the professor began to lecture, so only Caitlyn could hear. "And here in front of my very sore eyes, an angel appears, a miracle from the stars. Don't take this the wrong way - but wings and lingerie would really seal the deal - with the angel look, I mean. I won't fault you, though. Maybe that's something you save for after class."
Caitlyn just raised her eyebrows, pretending not to swallow against a wad of hot spit in her throat. When she didn't reply, Violet added, "too good for Geology, Cupcake?"
At the sound of such a taunting epithet as Cupcake in Violet's slick intonation, Caitlyn finally found her tongue, sharp and haughty. "No, just too good for fuck boys ravaged by who knows what flavor of STD this week."
The jock's mouth fell to a thin line. "Ouch."
Caitlyn stiffened, instantly wishing she could take back the bitter slam. She did not exactly intend to introduce herself to her class partner via roast. But, she was on edge - desperate. And now, she was missing out on the Goddamned rock lecture.
"Sorry," she said. "I'm having a bad day. I don't believe we have actually met before, but I know of you - Violet, right? I'm Caitlyn."
Violet smiled again, and Caitlyn's twisted gut flooded with relief. "I prefer Vi, actually. Professional dyke, aspiring professional soccer legend. How did you know my name?"
She knew that Vi knew very well that her own name was common campus knowledge. Caitlyn almost rolled her eyes, but she stopped herself, recognizing the ire only stemmed from her internal demons that gnawed away at the edges of her civility. Instead, she took a deep breath and said, "I've seen your posters around campus for The Golden Gauntlets."
"Ahhhh, yes. So you're a fan." It was more of a statement than a question. Vi leaned back casually in her seat, crossing one thick arm over the other. "That. . .probably explains it."
"Explains what, exac- wait, wait a moment, I never said I was a fan of yours." Caitlyn felt her cheeks flush. "I'm a fan of every Piltover team. I have school pride."
"Whatever you say, Angel. Fan of the team." Vi crooned with infuriating charm. "You never told me if you were saving the wings and lingerie for later tonight, by the way. I don't have any plans I can't cancel, if you're selling tickets to the show." Then she winked, and Caitlyn swore she could feel steam pouring from her ears.
"I'm busy tonight. And every night, actually. Forever." Caitlyn cleared her throat, pulled in her seat with a marked squeak, opened her notebook, and stapled her gaze dead ahead on the professor's mediocre dry erase depiction of a cinder cone volcano. "I am a professional student. I take my grades very seriously."
"So do I, Cupcake." Vi said. Caitlyn watched in her periphery as her insufferable pink-haired lab partner sank further back into her seat, pulled out her phone, and scrolled to Tinder.
Caitlyn grit her teeth and pushed down the resentment. So much for passing in a blur.
This was going to be the longest semester of her life.
...
...
The first co-ed parties after rush week were always the best. Buzzing with the excitement and energy of the new school year. Fresh faces, strong drinks, old friends, and hookups galore. But sadly, as with everything in her life now, it had all lost its childish charm. Now, Caitlyn would rather be just about anywhere else on a Friday night.
Nevertheless, she had obligations to keep- religiously. Sorority girls of the Piltover U chapter of Phi Theta Nu could only retain their membership if they were in attendance for 99% of formal fundraisers, charity balls, and sybaritic debaucheries (such as this sinfully eventful Friday night). Luckily, her single dorm made a perfectly inconspicuous place to pregame with two of her less fictitiously bubbly Theta Nu sisters. Caitlyn settled on a semi-revealing but moderately respectable red dress, and slipped her feet comfortably into matching vans.
As they ubered to the Phi Tau house, affectionately named "The Tropics" by Greek life regulars, Caitlyn couldn't help but wish she had taken another shot of lemon Deep Eddy back at the dorms. She felt almost anxiously sober as they pulled up and thanked their Uber Lux driver for the ride.
Cacophonous laughter and blaring house music frothed from the door left to swing wide open on its hinges. Sensual purple light gleamed from the entry, beckoning them inside the suburban two story frat house.
She quickly lost her two sisters to a game of rage cage, deciding that joining them would be a mistake. On nights like this, beer would undoubtedly make her feel worse.
Instead, she found herself in front of a large red cooler that was nearly purling over with a loose, sewage-green conglomerate of toxically cheap Everclear - and who knows what else.
After a flicker of hesitation, she found a solo cup that looked mostly unused, dipped it into the swirling potion, and brought it up cautiously to her nose. She gave it a terse sniff and dipped a fingernail in the mystery stew. When her indicator polish didn't change color, she knew it was unlaced and safe to drink. Relatively. If Everclear could really ever be classified as "safe."
"IIIIIIIIIII thought you said you were busy tonight." Sang a sly voice from across the kitchen counter.
Caitlyn thought it might have been the noxious fumes of pure 100 proof grain alcohol, or maybe it was how loud the music pounded in her eardrums, but she felt so lightheaded in that moment that she almost fainted right there into the red cooler.
"Vi." Was the first thing she could think to say, like a freshly born idiot. "This - is what I'm busy with. I'm a Theta. This is just as much a part of Greek life as anything else."
"Well, you could have invited me, is all I am saying."
Caitlyn tried not to choke on her drink. "Seems like you found your own invitation just fine. Who do you even know in Phi Tau, by the way?"
Vi smirked. "I know Ekko."
Caitlyn raised a brow and took a long, judgemental sip from the brim of her red cup. "Being friends with a sophomore isn't the brag you think it is."
Vi offered a good-natured chuckle. "Damn, Cait. Who shit in your jungle juice?"
"No one." Caitlyn took a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm- under a lot of stress at the moment."
"Your bad day hasn't gotten any better?" The butch asked kindly, biting her lip ever so slightly.
"Not particularly." Caitlyn huffed. She gave Vi an obvious once over. "Why are you here? You don't exactly strike me as the sorority type. Did Ekko let you crash?"
Another laugh. "No, no. As much as I love painting my toenails and having sexy pillow fights, my extracurricular interests lay closer to the realm of co-ed fraternization. I'm an Epsilon Tau."
Caitlyn felt the Everclear simmer in her stomach, warming her all the way down to her toes. "You are very fratty." She offered.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Vi innocently ran a hand over the buzzed side of her head.
Caitlyn tried to choose her next words wisely. She knew that her bad mood was leaking out into her conversations with others, so she gave it her best attempt at holding it all in. "You - Your reputation precedes you."
"That's why you called me a fuck boy in class today. Got it."
"I thought it would be obvious."
"Maybe not so obvious anymore." Vi leaned back, smooth and magnetizing as ever. Caitlyn could have sworn she saw her flex her arms under the sleeves of her simple black tee. "Its senior year. I'm a changed person. I've turned over a new leaf, Angel. I'm docile now, completely harmless." She paused to trace a cross over her heart. "Practically a kitten."
"Sure, Jan." Caitlyn snapped sardonically. "Tell it to George Glass."
Vi shook her head with a bemused grin. "You know, I am really am not accustomed to fumbling hot girls. Usually, its one bat of my lashes and we are good to go." Vi playfully sighed with gloomy sarcasm. "Why don't you like me?"
Caitlyn was taken aback by Vi's willingness to be so frank. "I just. . . have a lot on my mind."
The soccer star's lips twisted into a bewitching smolder and she offered out one superbly calloused hand. "I could help distract you, Angel. It's my job, really. My fraternity is all about acts of service."
Wary, Caitlyn held back for a moment.
Had she been sober, this situation would have played out in an entirely different, ridiculously PG way. But the party poison was coursing in her blood now, making her brain and her vision and her feelings all very fuzzy. In the span of a few minutes, her inhibitions had lost all shape. She smoothed her fingers over Vi's extended palm.
She snatched and bit into that apple-offering without a second thought. The snake of the garden kept its powder blue eyes on her, witnessing her in all of her unrestrained nakedness.
The jock led her outside, where she pulled out a thick, saccharine joint; redolent of syrup and roses. Vi lit it with one easy flick of her personalized silver lighter - the shape of Piltover's soccer team's insignia: an intricately designed mech gauntlet.
They leaned together against the cool exterior wall, the paltry glow of fairy lights providing only faint illumination to their relaxed conversation. Caitlyn noticed her entire body ease as they spoke, the rhythmic pounding of the bass from inside pulsing against her exposed back.
The hybrid joint put a comforting pressure over her chest, like a weighted blanket, and she couldn't help but smile as she spoke with Vi, losing herself in the surreal circumstances of even being around such a woman. An hour of significantly more friendly jibes slid by them, and Caitlyn found herself giving into any excuse to offhandedly brush her fingers across Vi's sinewy forearms.
For the first time since starting this torturous semester, she felt authentically happy.
When the joint petered out, Vi left to use the bathroom, and Caitlyn felt herself fully give into the sensuality of symbiotic desire. She was not the one-night stand type - necessarily. But with the way things were going, it certainly wouldn't be off the table tonight. This was the first real distraction she had discovered for her uneasy financial situation, and she was not ready for it to end anytime soon.
But, as she waited for Vi to come back, ten minutes turned to twenty. Then twenty turned to thirty, and the chill of the Orange County's autumn night air pushed her back inside. She found herself in the line for the washroom, set on emptying her painfully full bladder before making a swift exit from the party all-together.
Whatever had happened to Vi, Caitlyn tried to push it far from her mind. She could not stop her heart from sinking, though, from pooling around her feet like flooding acerbity. A small voice in her mind tried to remind herself not to overreact, this could all be a very silly misunderstanding.
There were three bathrooms downstairs, but by the time she reached the front of the line, all three had filled with couples seeking a private spot to indulge hedonistic desires. She resigned herself to stomping angrily up the stairs in search of any empty porcelain throne in which to relieve herself.
With a sigh of relief, she threw open the door of a seemingly empty lavatory.
But it wasn't empty.
The scene was horrific - a tangle of limbs and slippery moaning. The smell of sweat and booze. It was so chaotic; it took Caitlyn a second to figure out what she was even watching at all.
It was Vi, heated and out of breath, sandwiched between two standard sorority bimbos - acrylics, fake lashes, 22 inch color corrected extensions - the works.
Nausea rushed through Caitlyn like hot magma, bubbling up from her throat right there, out onto the bathroom floor. She turned to scurry away as fast as her legs would take her, but not before she caught the sound of shrill bimbos screaming in horror.
Heart pounding, Caitlyn ran from the purple light of the Tropics without a single look behind. From two long blocks away, she called her Uber Lux, and cravenly crawled inside the plush seating when it arrived.
"For Caitlyn K.?" The driver asked.
Her head was a war hammer. "MMM," she groaned, by way of giving affirmation. Her sick mouth hovered over the opening of her small Coach bag the entire ride back to the dorms. If she threw up again, fine. Coach was out this season, anyway.
Her entire world was spinning as she crawled into bed, chugging water from an old plastic bottle like a severely dehydrated hamster. Her anxiety was back. Her head hurt like a mother. And now, worst of all, her heart was aching like barbed wire was caught in her chest.
She rolled over and screamed violently into her pillow.
This semester could officially eat a dick.