Vi had dignity. She'd never let herself be some pushover– the scars on her fists and the lines of muscle on her biceps told that story to pretty much anyone. Vi had dignity. 
So why was she allowing herself to be your secret?

You were the crowned queen bee of the school, basically. All fashion and pretty face– and a tounge so sharp it made a teacher cry. (Sorry, Ms. Morecox...) Vi was the opposite of you. She stuck to herself and her small group of friends, for the most part– the only time she was truly outgoing was at parties. And that's where the two of you had officially met.

Vi didn't understand why you decided to talk to her at that stupid party– maybe you were too drunk. Maybe she was too drunk for even agreeing to talk to you– until then, she swore that she hated your guts. Everything about you screamed 'entitled princess', and you embraced that title with pride– she hated that!

Well, she did hate that. Now she was utterly infatuated with you, even if she was shoved aside in public– not even a glance in her direction. But in private, you were... admittedly sweet. Sure, sharp tounged, sassy– but sweet in your own way. Those moments meant everything to Vi, so she'd always chase them.

Like now. Vi had noticed you going to the bathroom without your usual clique of friends, and she made the quick movement of checking if anyone else was watching, before dipping into the bathroom to follow. She was unable to keep the smile off her lips when she saw you, checking your lipgloss in the dirtied girl's bathroom mirror. She stepped beside you, casually resting a hand on your hip, ignoring your noise of protest– something about people walking in.

"Hi. I hardly saw you all day. Not even at lunch."

She muttered, pulling you closer to her side.