“Class cutting, fights in school…” the weasel-like principal slammed Buffy’s file shut, “Tell me again why I should allow a delinquent like Ms. Summers into our fine institution?”
Buffy inwardly grimaced as Principal Snyder read off her permanent record. God, had she really done all of that?
“Mr. Snyder,” Joyce began in a crisp tone, “I believe a large part of an educator’s responsibility is to provide second chances for students, obviously you disagree; however, I’m fully prepared to take this to the school board.”
Snyder’s beady eyes narrowed and after a pause he said reluctantly, “I’ll consider it.”
Joyce stood up, grabbing her purse and gave him a terse, “Thank you” and exited the office, her head high.
Buffy followed, moving slowly and avoided meeting her mother’s eye. The hallways were nearly empty and for that Buffy was thankful.
They walked out to the car and Joyce unlocked the door, sliding into the driver’s seat. Buffy sat in the passenger seat, tugging on the long sleeve of her black shirt.
Joyce exhaled loudly and slumped in her seat. “God, that man is a rat. You wouldn’t believe how many times he’s tried to fire Rupert for defending a student. He’s just awful.”
Buffy didn’t reply, staring out the window. Her mind was stuck on what Snyder had said. Delinquent. Buffy had never really thought of it that way until her father had point-blank told her he couldn’t have her in his house.
At first it’d been about being free. Her cousin Faith had moved in with the Summers’ shortly after the divorce and Buffy had been reeling from the separation. At the time, Faith’s suggestion of partying and letting loose seemed like a good idea. She’d changed from the peppy cheerleader to a Faith look-a-like; anything to escape from the life that was spinning out of her control.
Joyce mistook Buffy’s silence for concern. “Don’t worry,” she reassured her daughter. “Even if we can’t get you into Sunnydale High we can look at St. Anne’s or another private school near by.”
Buffy nodded absently. “Good.”
Joyce studied her for a second before pulling out of the parking lot and driving home.
As soon as she walked into the house, Joyce went upstairs to change for work. Buffy sat on the couch and flipped on the TV for something to focus on.
Fifteen minutes later, Joyce came down while putting her gold earrings on. “There’s food in the fridge if you get hungry. Spike should be home around 3:00. Rupert and I have are going out to dinner tonight with some friends. Will you and Spike be okay here?”
Buffy nodded. “Yeah, no problem.” So long as she avoided the annoying pest, she mentally added.
“Good,” Joyce replied, grabbing her purse. She was almost out the door when Buffy called out, “Mom, wait.”
Joyce turned around, walking back into the living room. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry,” Buffy said, looking down at her hands. “About the whole school thing.”
Joyce let out a small sigh and sat down next to Buffy. “I won’t lie to you Buffy, this does complicate things but we’ll find a school for you.”
“Okay,” Buffy replied quietly.
Joyce continued, “I know the last year has been hard on you and that you fell into a bad patch. But we’ll work through this, okay?”
A small dam broke inside Buffy. “I just want to start over,” her voice wavered slightly.
For the first time since her daughter had arrived, Joyce enfolded her into a hug. “I know. I want that for you too.”
They sat there for a minute, just holding on, and Buffy thought maybe she really could start over. Sunnydale was her chance to shake off the past year and move forward.
Joyce pulled back reluctantly. “I wish I could stay but I have to go to the gallery.”
“No problem,” Buffy answered easily as her mother stood up and headed out the door.
Buffy turned around, watching her mother open the door. “And mom,” she paused, “Thanks.”
Joyce gave her a warm smile. “I’ll see you later.”
****************************************
Buffy sighed loudly and glared at the clock. The day seemed to be moving at an impossibly slow rate. She might not like school but having absolutely nothing to do except watch TV wasn’t exactly high on her fun list.
And it wasn’t like she where anything about Sunnydale so she couldn’t go out. That left watching another episode of Jerry Springer.
After the show ended Buffy finally clicked the TV off. There were only so many fistfights between the slutty daughter and angry mother she could take. She trudged upstairs and inched into bed and rested her eyes.
Crash
Buffy eye’s snapped open and she sat up quickly. Oh my god, she thought frantically, there was someone in the house. Hesitantly, she opened her bedroom door, peering through the crack.
She could hear faint noises, almost like…moans. What the…? Buffy edged out of her room, her steps wary.
Then she heard another muffled moan and someone bumped into the wall. Suddenly, Buffy’s stomach turned. If it wasn’t a thief, which she now doubted thanks to the noises, then maybe it was…ugh, the concept was too horrible to think about.
She tip-toed down the stairs and entered the living room slowly. The sight that greeted her almost made her gag. Two bodies were on the couch, making out. And one of them had almost white blonde hair. Spike.
Buffy cleared her throat loudly and the pair sprang apart as if they’d been burned.
Spike took one look at the girl standing in front of him and swore, “Bloody hell.”
Spike’s make-out partner scrunched her face. “Spikey, who’s this?”
Buffy gave the blonde girl a disdainful look. She reminded Buffy of herself two years ago only ten times stupider.
“I’m Buffy and you must be Spike’s girlfriend,” Buffy said sarcastically.
“This is Harmony,” Spike interjected, rubbing a hand over his face. “Bloody hell I didn’t know anyone was home.”
“Apparently not,” Buffy replied, casting Harmony another look as the blonde began tugging on her disheveled barely-there skirt.
Spike turned to his girlfriend and sighed. “Harm, I’ll call you later.”
The blonde girl gave Buffy a glare as if it were all her fault. “Fine,” she huffed grabbing her bag and exiting the house, slamming the door.
Spike and Buffy stood there awkwardly. “Well,” Buffy ventured, “she sure seems…nice.”
Spike slumped back into the couch. “Yeah, she’s a bloody saint,” he muttered.
Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Not exactly the reaction most people have at the thought of their significant other.”
Spike scoffed. “Harmony? Significant? Maybe to half the football team.”
“And you’re dating her?” Buffy asked incredulously.
Spike shrugged. “Not exactly datin’, more like…hanging out.”
Buffy laughed, crossing her arms and giving him a knowing look. “Ah, got it.”
“What?” Spike snapped, glaring at Buffy as she sat down next to him.
“She’s convenient, right?” Buffy asked rhetorically. “All the fun of dating but no strings attached.”
Spike’s glare turned deadly. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to,” was Buffy’s simple reply.
Spike stood up, seething. “Who the hell are you to judge me? You come here after getting kicked out of daddy’s house and mope around like it’s the bleedin’ end of the world. Why the fuck should I listen to you?”
Buffy jumped to her feet, her face inches from his. “Don’t,” she hissed, “talk about things you won’t ever understand.”
Spike tilted his head, his clenching and unclenching his jaw. “You’re a spoiled brat, you know that? Joyce would have done anything for you and instead you decided to stay with cheatin’ father.”
Buffy met his gaze squarely, “Get out of my face.”
“Gladly,” Spike retorted and raced out the door, shutting it so hard the whole house rattled.
Buffy stood, rooted in her spot and inhaled deeply. His words had cut her deeply, even if he didn’t know it. It was true, she’d been so mad at her mother for leaving her all alone she selfishly turned down the offer to live with Joyce just to get back at her. Buffy had pretended that her friends and cheerleading were too important for her to leave but in reality they didn’t matter.
She ran her hand through her dark shorn locks, trying not to feel bad about what she’d said to Spike. He’d been an asshole but whom he dated wasn’t really her business.
Right, a tiny voice piped up, and you weren’t jealous at all.