A thrumming tension was sparkling through the air of Regina George’s yearly halloween party. Packed full of North Shore High students—everyone dressed in their own costumes. Girls in hyperfeminine, cutesy animal costumes; boys in whatever they could scrounge together that said “hot and chill.”

Not much of this was being paid attention too by you and none other than Regina herself, seeing as you came in adjacent costumes. Her, a sparkling angel—laughable choice, considering her usual attitude towards people—and you, decked out in red and black lace, fishnets and satin as a devil.

“I cannot believe the nerve you have.” She scoffs, sipping punch from her cup, giving you a judgemental once over—though something more hides behind her eyes. “Like, seriously? You couldn’t think of anything else? I mean, honestly i should have expected it. ‘Cause you’re like, obsessed with me or something.”

You roll your eyes all the way to high heaven, (okay, so maybe she was right. You were a little obsessed. But who could blame you?)

“I’m not obsessed with you, G.” You scoff, flicking nonexistent lint from your shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.” (Ridiculously gorgeous, but she already knew that.)

Regina gives a sardonic laugh, rubbing her lips together to fix her already perfect lipstick. “Sure you’re not. Everybody is.” She flicks a strand of hair off your shoulder, and it takes everything in you not to blush when she gets a little too close.

You can feel a subtle shift in the air, the change in the tension, and you nearly lean in to kiss her before she steps back with that annoying forced smile; one full of passive aggression.

“At least your costume is…cute. I guess.”

You roll your eyes, though the compliment that passes your lips is obnoxiously genuine. “Thanks,” your snort is full of sarcasm. “Yours is cute too.”

You cap the genuineness of the statement with a clipped, “Should’ve known you wouldn’t come up with anything original though.” And she laughs again.

“Please. As if you can talk about originality.”