Class Mates

Today, what she wanted to do was run upstairs, tear off her uniform and take a bath. After what had happened today, she felt unclean, as if the chav girl had violated her. It was just about possible to forget about it as she submerged herself in water, but she couldn't stay there all night - as much as she hated it, she had to go.

After she'd cleaned herself, she realised that she needed to get dressed to make that dreaded journey to Courtney's house. She went for her usual standby outfits, but snapping to her senses. Earlier today, Courtney had stolen some of her good underwear - she didn't want to wear anything that the chav girl could spoil or steal.

In the end, she settled for something that was about as casual as she could find in her wardrobe - a pair of blue skinny jeans, a black and white striped T-shirt and a pair of grey ankle boots. It was sleek, stylish, and it screamed sophistication - Rebecca was keen to imply that she was still this girl's superior, even though she was being forced to spend a weekend at Courtney's mercy.

She closed her eyes and felt appalled at the prospect.

It's one weekend, she thought - you can do this, Rebecca. After all, what's Courtney really going to do? Make her do a few chores, call her names - that'd probably be the sum of it.

It wouldn't be a fun time, but it was what she was going to have to do to keep her secret, she'd suffer it. And then, Oxbridge, a happy future and never seeing Courtney again.

She didn't want to take her car - it was nice, and she didn't want Courtney to do anything to it - so she reluctantly left her estate after leaving a note for her parents, and she took a quick walk to the nearest bus stop. She had to look up where it was, and how much it cost - she didn't know if she'd ever used a bus before.

The bus pulled up in an area of town that Rebecca only really knew by reputation. It was not the sort of place someone like her would ever go to - it was run-down, full of grey council-run buildings covered in graffiti. Shattered windows looked onto dying patches of green, grim gardens with rubbish scattered about. It was, Rebecca thought, horrendous.

She put Courtney's address into her phone and followed the directions. It wasn't that far a walk, but it did lead her past an off-licence with three teenage boys, sitting on their bicycles. She tried not to catch their eye - she did not succeed.

"Oy oy," one of them called, "who are you?"

Rebecca tried lowering her head, increasing her pace slightly as she walked by. The ringleader, a handsome if rough-looking boy in a tracksuit, chased after her.

"Oy, don't ignore me, bitch - who the fuck do you think you are?"

She took a few steps forward, again saying nothing, and he was having none of it.

He grabbed her by the shoulders, and physically turned her around.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her plummy voice sounding posher than ever when it was indignant.

"Oh, I see. You lost, little posh bitch? You're a long way from home down here."

"I... I'm just looking for a friend's house," she stammered.

"Yeah," he was unimpressed, "I'm sure you've got loads of mates on the estate, you fucking liar."

She felt terrified, and she didn't know what to do or say. She felt like she wanted to run away, or scream, and she might have done, but luck was on her side.

"Hey, Jack," one of the other boys said, "I've had a text from Leo. Everyone's meeting at his now."

The two boys jeered and rang the bells on their bikes before riding off. Jack let her go as roughly as possible:

"Fuck off back to your palace, princess. If I see you around here again, I'm gonna fuck you up."

He laughed as he mounted his bike, and then followed his friends.

Rebecca was stunned, and unable to move for a moment, the shock paralysing her. It was an instruction from her phone, telling her to turn at the next street, that got her moving again, and moving at a much quicker pace.

Whatever Courtney had in store, surely it couldn't be worse than staying out here.

She soon found the house. There was nothing special about the place - it was a run-down council house, grim and common. She allowed herself a brief moment's levity, thinking that it was appropriate that someone like Courtney should come from somewhere like this.

But, this weekend, this was her home too.

Urgh, she felt sick even thinking about it.

Unhappy, worried, but resigning herself to her fate, she walked up to the house and knocked on the door.

Courtney opened it. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she was dressed casually in a crop top and leggings.

When she saw Rebecca, she burst into a big grin that the posh girl did not like at all.

"Bex, come in."

She hated anyone referring to her by anything other than her full name: "It's Rebecca, Courtney."

She smirked in response:

"Not this weekend, it isn't."

***

Rebecca sat unhappy on Courtney's sofa, perched right on the edge in order to touch as little of the room as she could.

It was - and she thought she was being charitable with this assessment - a dump. The walls were grimy, coated in peeling wallpaper from decades ago, and the TV was playing some reality show on a channel she'd never heard of. The scent of smoke hung in the air - there was an ashtray on the table in front of the sofa, with stale ash and old stubbed-out butts in a grey pile - and she could smell it acutely on the old sofa and the dirty armchair in the room's corner.

She sat there, perched and feeling a little disgusted with her surroundings, waiting for Courtney to appear. She eventually did, a cigarette in her mouth, as she placed a glass of some kind of energy drink in front of her.

"This isn't tea," Rebecca said.

"I know, Bex - we're all out, so this will have to do. Stop complaining, and get it fucking down you, for fuck's sake."

Rebecca took the can, and she sipped gingerly. It was sweet and both pleasant and unpleasant at the same time, but she didn't want to have too much - she knew that this stuff was not good for you at all, and she wasn't going to have a drop more if she could avoid it.

"Fuck me," Courtney was annoyed, "you trying to make it last all weekend, Bex?"

Rebecca shot her a glance, and took a proper gulp from the can before placing it on the table, next to the ashtray. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand to get the taste away.

"Right," she said, "we need to talk. What am I doing here - what do you want me to do?"

Courtney took a drag from her cigarette, and smoke escaped from her mouth as she spoke.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Bex?" she smirked. "We're just going to spend the weekend together, and you'll do what I fucking tell you. Fuck me, surely even a thick bitch like you understands the rules?"

She moved over, taking a seat next to Rebecca on the sofa, and not-so-gently rapped on her head.

"Look, I'll make it nice and simple for you, Bex - do what I fucking tell you, and I don't tell everyone that you're a lying fucking cheat. You got it?"

Rebecca grabbed Courtney's hand, and shoved her away, anger in her eyes.

Courtney wasn't put off - she smiled, and took another drag from her cigarette. This time, she exhaled it with focus, directing it towards Rebecca.

It had the desired reaction - Rebecca instinctively tried to bat away the smoke, flailing pathetically on the sofa. She glared at Courtney.

"What are you doing? I don't want to go around with my clothes stinking of smoke."

Courtney smiled, as she always did when annoying and upsetting Rebecca. But this time, she also had an ulterior motive in mind.

"Oh, excuse me, your highness - I'm sorry for smoking in my own fucking house. Well, if you don't want your clothes to fucking stink, then you better fucking change them."

"I'm not going home and getting another outfit just so you can ruin that one too, Courtney."

Courtney smirked.

"God, you really are a stupid fucking bitch, aren't you? I'll spell it out for you - I don't want you in any of your clothes around here. You're spending the weekend on the estate - you're going to fucking dress like it."

Rebecca folded her arms and glared back.

"I don't have any clothes like that, Courtney."

"No? I do..."

The posh girl looked disgusted at the proposition: "I'm not wearing your clothes - no way."

"No?" Courtney shrugged. "Fine by me - after all, who wants to go to Oxbridge?"

Rebecca looked furious, but she held her tongue. Reluctantly - so reluctantly, she had to force her body to stand - she got to her feet and followed Courtney upstairs to her bedroom.

It was a similarly bleak room - entirely fitting of this entire house, Rebecca thought. An unmade bed, a wardrobe from before the Ark, a long grotty mirror, a depressing desk with yet another full ashtray on top and a few posters from groups Rebecca didn't know on the walls - if she didn't hate Courtney from the pit of her stomach, she could almost have felt sorry for her, living in a place like this.

Almost.

Courtney handed her a carrier bag: "You can put your clothes in here, Bex."

Rebecca looked at the bag, and froze - could she possibly do this?

"Any fucking time today, Bex."

Slowly, unhappily, she started to get undressed. She removed her boots and placed them inside the bag. Her black jeans and her top soon followed, and she soon was standing there in her bra and pants, feeling incredibly self-conscious. Courtney loved seeing the embarrassment and the shame in Rebecca's face, and she wanted to amp it up even further.

"Doesn't look like you're done, Bex."

"Please, Courtney," she said, "I don't need to wear your underwear."

Courtney responded with another shrug and a casual smile, which said everything - she knew that she had the posh girl exactly where she wanted her, and Rebecca knew it too. The weight of her secret was hanging over her, and Courtney was clearly going to be delighted to remind her of it whenever she could.

She wasn't happy, but she followed Courtney's implicit orders. She took off her bra and, shame etched onto her face, she slipped the pants down her legs. She placed her underwear in the bag, and stood there naked, using one arm to cover her breasts and the other hand to cover her pussy.

Courtney stood her, arms folded and a smile on her face, happy to look at Rebecca as her discomfort grew. She had no interest in women, but this was a power thing - Rebecca had willingly stripped in front of the chav girl, and was now at her mercy, standing there in silence and watching as Courtney put a cigarette in her mouth and lit it. Her focus was on the smoke, not Rebecca.

There were two ways this could go down. Rebecca might get fed up, and go to put her own clothes back on, but Courtney didn't think she would.

And she was right.

"Are you going to give me any clothes, Courtney?"

Courtney smirked at her.

"I can't fucking keep up with you, Bex - you say you won't wear my clothes, and now you're fucking begging for them. Which is it, bitch? You wanna dress like me?"

Rebecca knew that Courtney was trying to provoke her, trying to make her snap, but she wouldn't let it happen. She had no good options, but she swallowed her pride and chose the least worst one:

"Please, Courtney, I want to wear your clothes."

"You want to dress like a chav from the estate, Bex?"

"Yes," she said through gritted teeth, "I want to dress like a chav from the estate."

"You wanna look fit like me, don't you, Bex?"

"Yes, I want to look like you, Courtney."

It killed Rebecca to hear those words pass her lips, and Courtney could see it - oh, this was going to be a fun weekend breaking the bitch.

"Alright then," she said, holding the cigarette in her mouth as she opened one of her drawers, "time to get dressed then, bitch."

She handed Rebecca a pair of pants and a bra. The posh girl was used to the finer things - lace underwear from big-name brands - and Courtney's underwear was not like that at all. It was white and polka-dotted, and it was clear they'd lived a long time. She was grateful that they looked clean, at least, as she put them on. In this house, she was glad that anything was half-clean at all.

Courtney watched as she put on the pants and bra, and then handed her pieces of clothing one by one. Rebecca had now surrendered to the inevitable, and she just hoped that Courtney wasn't going to choose anything too unpleasant to wear.

She'd started with a pair of worn black leggings - the first time Rebecca had ever worn leggings, as it happened. They were comfy, but not her style at all. Then, a loose white strappy crop top - it was somehow tight around her breasts, and loose everywhere else. Courtney provided some socks and a pair of dirty white trainers, and then finished off the look with a tracksuit jacket with purple stripes down the arms. Rebecca looked horrified when she saw it - she'd criticised it before when Courtney had worn it to school before - and she wanted to cry as she pulled it on.

"Hmm," Courtney said, "it's good, but I think we need to do something up top. Take out your earrings, Bex."

She didn't like it, but she did as instructed, removing her small stud earrings and placing them on Courtney's table. As she did, Courtney stepped behind her.

"I think these will look so much better."

Rebecca closed her eyes and accepted her fate as Courtney took hold of her earlobes, replacing the small earrings with large hooped ones. She couldn't bear to look, but she could feel the earrings touching her shoulders - they must have been giant. No-one wore jewellery like this, did they? Well, now she did, she thought sadly.

Courtney physically turned Rebecca's body, pointing her towards her bedroom mirror.

"Open your eyes, Bex."

Rebecca stood in front of the mirror, and watched as Courtney pulled back her long blonde hair into a harsh ponytail. She never wore her hair like this - she hated the way it looked, and she thought it made her look common.

But as she looked at the girl in the mirror, and horrible realisation struck her - she did look common. Dressed in this outfit, hoop earrings hanging from her ears and wearing her hair this way, she barely recognised herself. She had the same face, but she was a different person.

Rebecca was nowhere to be seen - this was Bex.

***

Downstairs, back in the living room, Rebecca sat once again on that grubby sofa in her grubby clothes - Courtney's clothes. But, as Courtney was keen to stress, these weren't her clothes - they were Bex's clothes. Here, she wasn't Rebecca - she was Bex, a chav girl just like Courtney, and she hated it. She sat there in silence, tracksuited arms folded, a frown on her face and, no matter how she sat, she could feel those hoop earrings dangling - urgh, she hated it.

Courtney was having fun sitting there, watching Rebecca stew, knowing that she'd barely even started on her plans for the weekend. But, if Rebecca was in a low place now, after simply trading clothes, Courtney looked forward to seeing how much lower she could sink.

"I could do with a fag, Bex," Courtney smiled. "Couldn't you?"

"You know I don't smoke," she replied.

In response, Courtney crossed her arms and shook her head, tutting with faux disappointment.

"You really are thick as fuck, aren't you, Bex? Haven't you understood anything yet? This weekend, we're doing what I want. And when I say it's time to have a fucking fag, then we both have a fag. Fuck me, if I have to spell this out every time, it's going to be a fucking long time, Bex."

Rebecca shook her head steadfastly in response.

"No, Courtney. I don't smoke, and I'm not going to start now just to appease you."

Courtney merely smirked back.

"Fine, fucking fine by me. I suppose you don't want to go to your fucking fancy uni either - that's fine by me too."

Rebecca wanted to scream in frustration - she wanted to grab Courtney and strangle her, and then get out of this horrible place and never come back. But she couldn't, not while Courtney had that evidence hanging over her head.

So she reluctantly spoke through gritted teeth: "Fine, Courtney, I'll have a cigarette."

She felt sick to her stomach just saying those words, and Courtney could see it in her eyes - it made her smile.

"No," she shook her head, "here on the estate, we call them fags."

"Okay," her nostrils flared as she spoke - this was getting to her, "let's have a fag."

"Are you really desperate for one, Bex?"

Courtney was teasing her and, much though she hated it, she knew she had to play along, feeling truly ashamed as she did.

"Yes, Courtney - I'm desperate for a fag."

"Look at you," Courtney laughed, "desperate for a fag, and you haven't even started smoking - you fucking slut, Bex." The chav girl put a brown cigarette box on the table, and flicked it open - it was empty. "It's a shame, though - I'm all out of fags. We need to get some more. No, I'm fucking lying to you, Bex - you need to go get some more."

"Me?" She was shocked. "You want me to buy cigarettes?"

"Fuck me, this is hard work, Bex. Yes - go to the corner shop and buy a couple of packs of fags so we can have a smoke."

Rebecca wanted to argue, but she knew it was pointless - she knew that she'd eventually have to give in to what Courtney wanted, so she opted for the path of least resistance.

She got to her feet, and looked to Courtney.

"Are you going to give me any money?"

"Fuck off," she laughed. "You always tell us that you're rolling in it at school - go and spend it on something useful. Shop on the corner - you can't miss it."

The posh girl clenched her fists in a moment of anger, before realising them - what could she do? In a resigned fashion, she headed out of the room, grabbing her purse and leaving the house.

Rebecca found the corner shop easily enough, and she hesitated on the doorway. Was she really going to do this - was she really going to buy cigarettes, and then go home and smoke with a girl she hated? She sighed in resignation as she realised the answer to that question.

She entered the shop. She'd never been in a corner shop before - it was small, goods crammed in everywhere, completely unlike the places she usually did her shopping.

Tentatively, she walked up to the counter, and addressed the shopkeeper, a grumpy-looking Indian man with his arms folded, watching her carefully.

"Can I help you?" he demanded.

"I need..." she struggled to get the words out - she couldn't believe what she was going to say, "I need some packets of fags."

Christ, Courtney wasn't here and she still called them that - she must have been desperate to divorce herself from what she was doing.

"Fine," he said, "which brand?"

Oh god, she didn't know that. I'm already out of my depth, she thought. All she could do was point, indicating a pack that looked like the one Courtney had been smoking. The shopkeeper clearly wasn't impressed - he glared at her as she wasted his time - but he eventually slammed a couple of packs on the counter.

He told her how much it was, and she took out her purse to pay.

"That's fancy," he said.

She smiled: "It is, isn't it?"

"Where did you nick it from?" he demanded.

"What?" There was panic in her voice. "What do you mean?"

"No way some thug like you has a purse like that - you must have nicked it."

Rebecca didn't know what to do - she was terrified, frightened of what was happening and what may happen next. She just knew that she needed to get out of there, and fast. She placed a twenty on the counter - more than enough to cover the cost of the two packs - before grabbing them and running off.

She needed to get outside, get some fresh air, and clear her head. She ran to an alleyway just over the road - she sank to the floor against the wall, wanting to cry. How could it have come to this - running from a shop like a common criminal. She felt sick, and she wanted to break, but she held it in - she wasn't going to let Courtney Miller beat her. She could see that the chav girl wanted to upset her, so she resolved she'd do everything in her power to not be upset.