the girl in red

vii. small town

Sunday, December 15th, 1975

Lafayette, Indiana

Sundays were a bitch when not spent laying around all day. They always had been. That's what Dimitra muttered as she stepped into the shower - the hot water already taken by Dima - at precisely 6:30 a.m. And those were the words she repeated as she tucked a sage button-up into a new pair of flared jeans. She cursed the morning, too, as she slipped on her boots and pulled her hair into a ponytail.

It was exactly 8 a.m when Dimitra stepped into the small church shoulder-to-shoulder with Dima. Her fingers messed with her galvanized rings and spun them around and around. The heel of her boot tapped rhythmically against the ugly carpet floor that muted the click.

"Service doesn't start for another half hour, right?" Dima asked over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Judith responded, still checking her high-knot in the pocket mirror gripped in a visibly-annoyed Alina's hand.

Dima sighed and rolled his eyes, pressing his hands deeper into the front pockets of his jeans. Maxim came up beside them and flattened his hair, his rings glistening under the yellow-hued lights. Old pews lined the main area in front of the small stage. A grand piano sat in the far right corner, and on the bench sat an older woman.

Dima leaned down a few inches before whispering to Dimitra, "I already don't like this place."

She twisted her face and nodded in agreement, still inspecting every corner of the room. Her eyes stopped harshly on a small head that peaked from a crowd at the front of the church. The orange hair stuck out like a sore thumb, and it was only emphasized by another mop of orange hair that peeked out feet away.

"Hm. More redheads," Maxim commented with a hum.

"You don't sound very happy about that."

"I've not had the best experience with redheads."

Dimitra rolled her eyes and grinned. A small squeak left her lips when her wrist was grabbed and she was yanked towards the pews. She looked down at the hand and let out a long sigh as she was dragged along against her will.

"I didn't consent to this, Judith."

"You need to meet some new people. Be more friendly," Judith said over her shoulder.

Dimitra groaned and begrudgingly relaxed into Judith's grip, letting her pull her across the floor easier. She tightened when they got closer to the crowd on the side of the room, fighting against Judith.

"What?" Judith asked as she dropped her grip.

Dimitra frowned. "Do we have to go into the crowd? Why don't we go talk to the lovely old ladies over there?"

"Old ladies are bitches, Mitty."

"...we're in church."

"No, shit. Now come on, we need to interact with people."

Judith strolled into the crowd, leaving Dimitra alone by a pew. The redhead groaned and glared at the back of Judith's head.

"We seem to find each other everywhere," a voice spoke up from beside her.

Dimitra angled her head up and raised her eyebrows, coming face to face with that same boy from school. She offered a small grin before she spoke, "Yeah, we do."

He brushed his hair out of his eyes and looked around, his movements more blocky than natural. His blue...green? Green. They were more green than blue, at least under the unforgiving fluorescent lights. So, green it was. His green eyes couldn't seem to stay still, flitting from the pews to the ceiling far above their heads.