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*
Everything's going exactly how she planned it. Fame and fortune waits for her.
Trevor will regret the day he fucked it up with Jill.
(And so will everyone else in Jill's life.)
*
"You look like a goddamn hooker."
Olivia rolls her eyes. She ignores Kirby's comment, adjusting her blue short skirt and never faltering her stride. Despite the three-inch, gold high heels. Jill's eyes linger to the skirt tie-ups on both of Olivia's hips, exposing the length of her salon-tanned skin.
They've parked the car by the highway. Another group of high schoolers, leading the way to Stab a Thon, ditch them and cut through a grassy field.
"It's a Halloween costume, duh," Olivia says nonchalantly, fluffing her ironed curls with her nails.
It's hard to get under her skin.
About anything.
Jill isn't so sure though what Olivia dressed as. Maybe a slutty pilot with the gold fishnets and a blue, triangle cap and long-sleeve uniform involving a boob window the size of Olivia's upper chest. Not that Olivia has much to flaunt.
Kirby scoffs. She and Jill decided to pull on hoodies over their skinny, low rise jeans. It's too damn cold out.
"You're literally parading around naked right now, Liv."
"I like it," Jill murmurs. Under the pale streetlight, she catches Olivia's self-satisfied smirk. As much as Jill wants to see her lying dead in her own pool of blood, and as much as they annoy each other... that's her bestie. She grew up next to Jill.
Kirby folds her arms, tilting her head and giving Jill an exasperated look. "Of course you do."
Jill's mouth twists downwards, but she laughs awkwardly.
"What's THAT supposed to mean?"
"Please," Kirby says, groaning and turning mid-step to face Jill. "Without Trevor, you're bored and horny just like the rest of us."
Jill pretends to look offended, folding her arms like Kirby did. She can play the deceptively normal good girl. Easy peasy. "Are you saying you want me to fuck you or something?" she monotones. Olivia's lip curls up. "Is that it?"
A little of Kirby's tongue juts playfully between her lips. "You couldn't handle all of this, Roberts. That's a known fact."
Olivia sighs, glancing towards the farmhouse nearby.
"Gag me," she mutters.
"On which?" Kirby chirps, running up to her and sliding her arm through Olivia's. "Fingers or my tongue?" Jill lets out another laugh as an amused Olivia squeals, shoving her as Kirby puckers her lips and exaggerates kissy faces to their best friend.
They're turning the street-corner when a guy in dark clothes appears out of nowhere. Jill realizes there's an unlit car parked.
He snatches onto Olivia's gold strap pulse, yanking hard.
They all scream.
Olivia falls, her head smacking noisily onto the gravel. Jill's stomach churns. She tries to grab onto Olivia's purse-strap, and backs off, gasping. Warm blood runs down her forearm. The mugger's knife slices again diagonally, hitting air this time.
Jill swears lowly, clamping over the wound.
Kirby shouts for help, seized by the waist and tossed onto the ground by him. Her blue eyes gush with tears.
Fuck this—
Jill waits for her opportunity, knocking into him with her shoulder and jamming her elbow into his nose when he glances up. The mugger yelps, collapsing, unable to do anything when Jill kicks him repeatedly in the stomach. Rage fills her like Kirby's tears.
Fucking piece of shit—
He scrambles onto his feet, retreating for his car.
"Yeah!" Jill hollers, as some of the other high schoolers come to their aid. "You BETTER run!"
Marnie Cooper orders her frantic boyfriend to dial for 911. She snaps a picture of the license plate.
Jenny Randall kneels down with Kirby, shushing her, helping Olivia to wake up and touching over Olivia's bruised forehead. Robbie Mercer spots the blood drizzling down Jill's arm, whining and bitching to Charlie Walker doing his best to avoid Jill's eyes. He knows better.
Trevor isn't anywhere to be seen.
Good.
*
The police take some questions, shaking their heads and patting her shoulder.
Jill answers them politely, letting the EMT bandage her up in the ambulance. She doesn't wanna go to the hospital.
Kirby has scabbed palms.
Olivia recovers from her headache.
It's the first time that Woodsboro has them cancel Stab a Thon. Jill is sure she's gonna get shit for it.
She spends the night with Olivia and Kirby, snuggling on Kirby's pillows on her bed and getting felt up. Something about the danger thrills Jill. The mugger could have gutted her best friends, and Jill would have gutted him viciously for spoiling her plans.
Olivia's gold-ringed fingers pet into Jill's straight, dark hair, tugging lightly, easing Jill in.
Their mouths graze.
Jill tastes a film of dirt and soap on Olivia's wrist, glossing her bare flesh with saliva. Kirby whispers into Jill's neck, pressing into her from behind, poking her fingertips under the drawstring pajamas. Jill moans softly, rocking her hips, wanting her pussy fingered and wanting to release some tension. Sexual foreplay might be almost as fantastic as imagining herself killing.
Kirby's hand rubs down, grinding and separating Jill's pussy lips open. Hot fluid drips out. Kirby grunts into Olivia's kiss, tonguing inside. Olivia finally has lingerie on—a sunny, satin yellow. Her tiny tits mold perfectly in Jill's palms squeezing on her.
One of their cellphones buzzes.
"Hold on," Jill grumbles, recognizing it. Kirby pulls her hand out of Jill's pajamas, simpering. "It's probably my mom asking when I'm coming home." She ducks out of Kirby's bedroom, into the hallway and into a guest room. Jill locks it. That's enough privacy.
"You okay?" Charlie's voice drifts in.
He hasn't got a damn clue.
"Peachy." Jill starts unwrapping her bandage. "They said it would heal clean," she deadpans.
"Do you wanna see me?"
Jill grins, widely and cruelly. She digs her thumbnail into the wound carved into her, bleeding it, splitting it further. That's an idea for the remake. Getting carved in the arm by the killer. It's a good throwback to when Sidney's boyfriend had been carved.
"Nah," Jill mumbles in disinterest. "I'm already getting fucked. Girls can do more than your tiny dick."
A crazed laugh echoes from her phone. She hangs up.
Dark red liquid trickles down Jill's forearm, lapped up gleefully by her tongue. Blood for bloodlust.
It'll come soon enough.
*