009. Broken

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There's only two Big Name schools in this end of the southern California district.

And they hate each other.

Ever since infancy, Teresa has been raised along with other kids rooting for West Angeles Angels. After her mother's death, her dad went on overdrive about grades and her future, convincing her to focus on sports as an extracurricular. Years of team gymnastics came in handy for cheerleading in her freshmen year.

And it led her to Brenda Salazar — the varsity cheer captain for the Bayside Bees.

If not for the alleged "blood feud" of Baysiders versus Angels, Teresa knows she would have a little more courage to ask her out. After every home game, there's at least five arrests on campus, three hospitalizations, vandalization and accusations of harassment. Both teams, regardless of Bayside or West Angeles, would either throw stinky handtowels or urinal cakes at each other, or something else gross.

The cheerleaders, however, would resort to flipping each other off or making grotesque faces when there were no adults nearby, passing by on the yellow school buses.

Teresa caught Brenda's eye once from a window-seat, as the older girl smiled cheekily and winked.

Sonya and Harriet lived on the Bayside for their childhood, before moving out to Teresa's neighborhood. They pledged their loyalty to the Angels, trying out for the cheerleading squad around the same time as her. Pledged their loyalty — Teresa feels her stomach churn. Why does that sound so ominous?

The older she gets, the more Teresa realizes she's frustrated. With her friends, with her dad, with this whole horrible rivalry no one can fully explain to her why exists in the first place.

Minho blabs at lunch about his parents going on vacation, inviting the football and rugby and cheerleading teams for a free-for-all keg party at his place. Teresa rides with Sonya and Newt in his car, traipsing through the shadowy woodland area to reach Minho's gigantic, brightly lit house.

He's already wasted, flirting with Teresa every moment to spare. She cringes and apologizes, heading outside for fresh air, only to collide into a tall, dark-haired girl, Teresa's cup of beer splashing onto Brenda's tee-shirt.

"Fuck—" A nervous, high laugh. Teresa's face flaming with humiliation. "I'm sorry—holy shit, Brenda—"

Brenda shushes her with a smile, tugging on Teresa's hand and leading them towards the lake-dock.

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Teresa recalls them meeting up once or twice, either accidentally on the outskirts of a rally outside of their district, or in the mall's bathroom. Brenda complimented Teresa's cheerleading, navy-blue knee-socks while rinsing off her hands, eyeing her legs a smidgen too long. "Can I try them?" Brenda asked lightheartedly.

Speechless, Teresa froze while turning around in place, gripping onto her purse resting on the sink. At her almost frightened look, Brenda pfftted and crossed her arms in front of her, rolling her eyes.

"I don't have cooties."

For some reason she listened to her, kicking off her sneakers and peeling down her navy-blue-with-a-single-white-stripe socks. Brenda pulled off her own goldenrod-and-white ones, exchanging them for Teresa's socks and yanking them on. The darker, cooler blue color looked so much better on Brenda's tan skin.

"Very cute," Brenda said, examining Teresa's socks with fondness, and then her legs again. "Cuter on you."

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"The hell are you doing here?"

"Crashing," Brenda says with a mischievous duh expression. "It's free alcohol—what did you think—"

Teresa can smell the frothy, spilled beer on her, eyes widening when the other girl lifts her arms and strips off her ruined tee inside-out. No bra. God, she's trying to not stare at the rosy-dusk coloring of Brenda's tits.

"I swear, whenever we meet up, you look like a baby deer trapped in the headlights," Brenda comments in a half-yell on the dock, wiggling out of her jean-shorts. "Chill, 'Resa. You can afford to live a little, okay?"

Holy shit — is she gonna —

Brenda jumps in, naked and screaming at the feeling of the cold November water. Teresa's pulse heightens. She pushes the stands of dark brown hair out of her face, laughing with her breath visibly frosty-white.

"You scared, Wester?"

"… No, I'm not," Teresa replies after a long moment, flashing her teeth in a big grin. "Baysider."

The water is impossibly cold, through her jeans and hoodie. Brenda's laughter feels warm surrounding her. Teresa doesn't understand how anyone in West Angeles could hate her, but she doesn't plan on starting now.

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TMR isn't mine. As much as I've been wanting to do some Newtmas after seeing The Death Cure, I had to focus and I got some Brenderesa done instead! :) I don't do very many super AUs for this fandom so it was fun to experiment! Hope you all enjoy this! Thoughts/comments appreciated!