Monster High: Fright On! | Monster High Fanfiction

Cleo's Interlude

Cleo took her job as Fear Captain very seriously. She was usually the first one in the locker room on Tuesday afternoons. She'd grab her duffle bag from her locker in the five-minute time they had between fifth and sixth period, and as soon as the final bell rang she'd race to the gymnasium, always the first out the classroom door. After all, Fearleading didn't have a coach like other sports teams did so she was in charge of everything: turning on the lights in the gymnasium, setting out the cones or mats for conditioning or drills, creating their cheer choreography and signing them up for competitions and events. It would be stressful if she didn't love it so much . . . and of course had that errant fire to beat her older sister by becoming the best Fear Captain in Monster High history, but that was secondary.

So as she made her way into the locker room she expected it to be empty like it usually was on these Tuesday afternoons only to stop short at the threshold of the doorway. Her shoulders stiffened minutely, her lips pursing to hold back as snarl as her eyes zeroed in on Frankie. She had her foot up on one of the benches, unlacing her black sneakers without a shred of care—like she hadn't deeply hurt Draculaura only a few days prior.

It had been fairly easy to avoid Frankie the past two days, especially since she seemed determined to not be within a twenty feet radius of Draculaura who Cleo was nearly always with during communal times. They only shared two classes together: Mad Science, with the crazy Mr. Hackington who'd send a cleaver their way if they dared speak, and Physical Deadication, where they'd been put in separate games the past two days for Castketball and then Batminion.

She'd done well at compartmentalizing her anger towards the girl, but now that she was right there, changing so nonchalantly as if nothing was wrong . . . it made her blood boil.

Frankie looked up from her shoes at the noise of the door swinging open, a shy smile falling onto her face as she toed them off. "Sorry I had to run out on Saturday, I had some things to take care of at home."

"What are you doing here?" Cleo said coldly, her lips pursing even further into a straight line.

Frankie's face fell in bewilderment. "I, umm- I'm here for fear practice?" She held up one of her pom poms as the confusion in her expression grew.

Cleo huffed, walking fully into the room and letting the door shut behind her noiselessly. "What, did you really think I'd let you near her again? After what you did?" Cleo asked incredulously as she loomed over her, eyes thinned into a fierce glare.

Frankie's expression cleared and she wilted into herself, chewing on her bottom lip. "It was just a misunderstanding," she murmured pitifully.

Cleo chuckles darkly. "You know, that was the exact same thing Clawd said after Transylvania."

"I'm nothing like him," Frankie hisses, a sort of fire she'd never seen sparking in her eyes.

"No, you're worse," Cleo bites back. Frankie stumbles back as if she'd been slapped, her expression morphing into one of such deep hurt that Cleo almost —almost— wanted to take back her words.

"Cleo, please," Frankie begged. "I love fearleading and I," she swallowed, "I love Draculaura."

"Yeah, and what a way to show it," Cleo said harshly before straightening her shoulders and schooling her expression. "Either way, it's done. I've taken your name off the forms and submitted them with Headmistress Bloodgood yesterday before school. You're not going to Gloom Beach and you're officially off the team."

"Cleo," Frankie uttered, her voice hollow.

"Leave Draculaura alone. Maybe go hang out with Clawdeen; you're one and the same anyway." She knocked her shoulder against hers as she walked past towards the bathroom area at the back of the locker room. She dropped her duffle bag in front of the sink, staring at her expression which seemed hard even to her as she heard Frankie grab her bag and walk out. She wondered, vaguely, what she looked like as she did. Had her shoulders been slumped in defeat, feet dragging against the tile floor? Had she been crying silently, tears silently tracking down her cheeks? Had she walked out defiantly, head straight and chin up even though there had been no one to see her?