Worm's Shoulder Devil 6

Winslow High school was just as dreary as ever. Emma and Sophia were consistently present, of course, talking to each other about Taylor in that deniable way they did, but no confrontations were forced. Apparently, Emma wasn’t quite so stupid as to think that her punishment ending meant that whatever thin ice she was on no longer applied. Their sycophants, Madison most of all, still routinely harassed Taylor, but nothing blatant enough to warrant action more severe than Taylor reporting to the authority, usually the teacher of the class in question, of the events without insisting on action, and several of the subtler tactics didn’t even warrant that. 

“She’s planning something.” Taylor concluded, once they were in the cafeteria. She was eating some fried rice that Tanya had taught her to make, a bachelor’s attempt to save money with homemade food, so long ago. 

“You would know her habits better than I,” Tanya said, “-but if they are, they haven’t been discussing it where I can hear them.” Tanya was not currently spying on them, as she piggybacked on Taylor’s sense of taste to enjoy her old recipe… albeit Americanized, as Taylor did not go to the Japanese grocer like Tanya had requested, citing the gang tags that she stayed well clear of. 

While the cafeteria’s background noise was too great to call the next while a companionable silence, Taylor still sat alone, with only Tanya for company, so it might as well have been silent. Once Taylor was almost done with her meal, she telepathically noted: “Madison just looked at me in a suspicious way.” She reported, “Can you check it out?”

“Of course.” Tanya said, slipping out of Taylor’s body and walking over to the table of teenage girls. 

-that big of a deal?” Madison asked when Tanya approached close enough to make out what they were saying, “It’s not like you haven’t been to detention before.”

“Not for putting Taylor in her place!” Emma hissed.

“Someone’s helping her out.” Sophia warned, “Hebert’s the bait in a trap, so we have to keep things…” She trailed off. Over days of spying on the girl’s conversations, Tanya had learned that Sophia had the admirable habit of stretching the limits of her vocabulary, trying to use longer or less common words when appropriate, even if it made her look a little stupid sometimes. “...stuble. We can’t just wait for teachers to not be looking anymore.” She finished, finding the word she was reaching for. 

Madison seemed skeptical, but shrugged. “Well, then if you don’t want to lay off, and you’re too scared to act during school…” Sohpia growled at the implication, but Emma’s lips quirked in an amused smile. “-then the only other way has to be doing something outside of school,”

“We are not scared.” Sophia insisted, “But random freshmen don’t just point cameras at losers like Hebert, there’s something more going on here.” Tanya couldn’t resist bursting out laughing at that. That was exactly what happened!

Taylor glanced over at her, confused. Which Emma noticed. “Well, as fun as it is to let her stew, I agree that we should do something more impactful. Good idea Madison.” The girl in question looked like she was going to object to Emma’s reframing, but decided against it. “Something over the summer’s given her the idea that she deserves to be here, when no one wants her. So, here’s what we’ll do…”

Tanya chuckled as Emma outlined her plan. It was pretty simple: call in expensive delivery food, picking places that had delivery drivers they knew, some of which even had social media accounts. Then, control the narrative to make it look bad for Taylor, no matter what she did. Either she tried to scam the places for free food, or she paid up and stole money from her dad, some more nastiness oriented around an eating disorder, all sorts of contradictory plans of attack to ensure that Taylor had no winning moves. 

With the advance knowledge, on the other hand, there was a winning plan. So after school, Taylor entered her house, greeted Yami, double-checked that all of the doors and windows were secure, moved her bullying journal into her backpack, then simply placed the type 95 around the cat’s neck. “Let’s go to the park.” Taylor announced. 

Tanya meowed in agreement. 

------------------------

The counter-plan had two parts: first, simply don’t be home when the food starts coming in. Emma had the plan to start bringing in food at five: late enough that it was a reasonable time to be ordering food, but early enough that Taylor’s father would arrive during the confusion, if all went to plan. 

The second part of the plan was, essentially, to pre-empt both with some phone calls. First, Taylor called her father, verifying that he would be working late. While the man was suspicious of why she asked, he apparently decided that he would believe Taylor’s assurances that nothing was wrong, she simply was going to be out during dinner and he didn’t need to come home for her sake. 

The second portion of the second part of the plan was… to call the police. “BBPD, is anyone dying?” Came the voice of the receptionist. 

“No! Wait, did I accidentally call 911?” Taylor asked, worried. 

“No you didn’t, sweetie.” The receptionist said in a friendlier tone. “This is the non-emergency line. What’s your problem?”

“Ah, there are these girls, and someone warned me about a prank they were going to pull?” Taylor said, glancing down at Tanya, who was curled up in her lap. Tanya looked up and nodded their head up and down. “A friend said I should call and ask what I should do?”

“What kind of prank?” The woman asked. 

“Ordering takeout to my house.” Taylor said immediately. 

“Well, that’s fraud, which is a crime.” The receptionist confirmed. 

Taylor idly stroked Tanya’s fur. “Yes, but what should I… do about it? They haven’t done it yet, and I don’t know where they’re going to be ordering from.” They had speculated, but lunch had ended before they had made firm plans on that front. Tanya had tried to spy on them further, but that didn’t help. “I don’t even know for sure if they’re going to do it, or when!”

“Calm down, Ma’am.” The receptionist said, “I’m afraid that’s not really enough to go on for us to do anything about it, but if you file a tip, it might help us later, and the worst it’ll do is nothing.”

Telepathically, Taylor conferred with Tanya. “Should I?”

“Of course you should.” Tanya replied back, “While involving the police is an escalation, their economic attacks on your person warrants their involvement.”

“What if they just try to make me look like I’m the problem again, though?” Taylor worried. 

“They’ll do that anyway.” Tanya replied, “If you don’t leave the tip, that’s ceded ground. Consistency is key in forming a narrative, and judges, juries, and authorities love those in equal measure. Narratives like those your tormenters spin must be opposed directly, and to do that, you must speak the truth instead of remaining silent.”

“You still there?” The receptionist asked. 

“I’ll make the tip.” Taylor replied, and five minutes later, the names ‘Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess, and Madison Clements’ were now on a police database alleging intent to commit a petty crime. Furthermore, at the receptionist’s suggestion, Taylor wrote a note and taped it to the door before they left, directing any delivery drivers that show up to go to Emma’s house. 

Still, with that handled, they spent an hour or two enjoying the park, Tanya in particular enjoying the exhilarating feeling of athleticism that was climbing up a tree so easily as well as the sensations of falling safely due to their weight being low enough to not be overly bothered by ten to twenty foot drops. Afterwards, they made their way towards the library, Tanya smuggled inside Taylor’s hoodie for long enough to get past the eagle-eyed librarians. 

Admittedly, Tanya’s ability to read English had atrophied a bit in comparison to her fluency in the spoken form, so reading the novel that Taylor had picked out proved to be surprisingly educational. 

The both of them still needed to eat, however, so they went to a restaurant that was apparently a local fixture, a place that announced itself as Bob’s, although the colloquial name was Fugly Bob’s. The proprietor appeared to have taken some shrapnel to the face; Tanya had seen similar injuries back in the Empire. 

Not that they were so stupid as to feed a cat greasy fast food; Taylor bought a can of wet cat food at a corner store, and they took the collar off so that Yami could eat it, and Tanya could enjoy Taylor’s food by proxy. Fortunately, Yami was an incredibly lazy cat, and didn’t panic at suddenly being somewhere else, he was more than happy to eat the cat food. 

It was shortly after the type 95 was re-affixed to Yami’s neck that an unfortunate coincidence occurred: Emma Barnes walked by, and Taylor’s position at one of the outdoor tables (naturally, the eatery didn’t allow animals inside) allowed the redhead to notice them. 

“Taylor?” Emma asked innocently as she approached, taking a closer look. “Taylor!” She said, all smiles. “It’s so nice to see you leave the house like a normal person! You’re normally such a goblin, I didn’t believe my eyes!” Emma’s eyes zeroed in on Tanya. “Who’s this little guy?”

While the insult was refreshingly direct, Taylor had a split second to decide whether or not she’d either deny a connection to the random cat, potentially protecting the feline from Emma’s spite… or to instead claim them, exposing the weakness but also cutting off certain avenues of attack. “This is Yami.” Taylor said, fast enough that you would have to be looking for the hesitation to notice it. “He’s my new cat. His old owner died, and I adopted him.”

Emma, unfortunately, was looking for it. Her saccharine smile sharpened. “You sure you can take care of a cat, Taylor?” She asked, still smiling. “You know your dad’s not going to be any help, after all.”

Taylor was decent at concealing her emotions, a skill practiced in this kind of circumstance, but the barb seemed to cut deep, as she minutely flinched anyway. “Go away, Emma.” Taylor said, pausing long enough to avoid choking on her words. 

Emma huffed in amusement, and brought her hand close to Tanya. Not having any of that, Tanya hissed, maneuvering into a clearly aggressive posture. Oddly, Emma seemed pleased at this reaction. “He sees that I’m dangerous.” Emma said smugly. 

“Down, Yami.” Taylor said, but Tanya ignored her. “Heion ne, Yami-neko-chan.” Taylor said after a beat. Tanya immediately calmed down, shooting Emma their most condescending feline expression. 

Emma’s face twisted at the command. “The fuck, Taylor?” She asked. “Did you adopt some ABB cat?”

“I don’t think some ninety year old lady was a member of the ABB.” Taylor deadpanned. “He knows some commands, but only in Japanese.”

Emma held out her hand, clearly inviting Tanya to sniff. Tanya instead climbed up to Taylor’s shoulder, making sure that Emma got a good view of Yamis’ rear end as they moved. Tanya gave her best feline “Fuck you”, which came out as a small, sharp pair of hisses. 

Now that pissed the girl off. She wasn’t quite pissed off enough to start yelling, but her good mood was clearly ruined. “Well, I guess it’s true that cats love garbage.” Emma said as a parting shot. Not her best work, but she stormed off. Her phone rang, and with Tanya’s keen feline hearing, she managed to catch her side of the conversation. 

“Hey Daddy!” Emma said brightly, before unintelligible but clearly angry words came from the other end. “No, I didn’t do anything like that.” She said, voice quavering a bit but still confidently lying. “Just because Taylor said it doesn’t mean it’s true. She probably called them herself just so she can get me in trouble, she does it all the time, remember last week?” More angry words that couldn’t be made out. “Sophia is pretty pissed at her, maybe she did it.” Emma said, throwing her friend under the bus. “Or someone else, I don’t know! No one likes her, so really anyone could have done it, it’s not like it’s a hard prank to do.” The next voice was calm. “I’m telling you, I. Didn’t. Do. It.” More words. “No, I don’t know whose phone number they’d find who made those calls, but it absolutely wasn’t mine.” She probably took basic precautions then, given how confident she was in that statement. “Okay, bye!” She said, smugly hanging up her cell phone. 

Taylor’s hand brushed the collar as she scratched Tanya’s chest. “Can you hear her?” Taylor asked. 

“The prank was successfully deflected.” Tanya explained, “But she talked her way out of her father’s anger, so she has not yet lost her credibility. Still, it’s another battle won.”

“Back home then.” Taylor confirmed, starting the walk back. 

“Yes, back home.” 

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Over the rest of the week, things seemed to go quiet. That wasn’t to say that Taylor’s days were completely stress-free: apparently, the last time she got a break it was the silence before the storm; her mother’s flute was desecrated after a lull in the bullying. 

Still, as Tanya had no other friends nor anything else to really occupy their time beyond napping in sunbeams (which, admittedly, was luxurious), she did her best to keep the girl occupied from spending too much time dwelling anxiously on the topic. 

This coincided with a windfall influx of income for Danny’s workplace, apparently the city got enough money together to replace one of the Endbringer shelters that, a few years ago, had some catastrophic issue that scuppered the whole project before it was finished, and that meant the labor union had enough jobs for everyone. 

For Taylor, this was both good and bad news. The good news was that Danny apparently had a bad habit of allowing the organization to short his pay in lean times and was now able to secure his full backpay, which came with a hefty (for a teenager) dividend for Taylor. 

This turn of events was not unusual for Danny, apparently. Taylor recalled this rough sequence of events occurring four other times since her mother died; a big project sweeps in, giving work to everyone, and their family spontaneously transforms from a poor family to one that is properly lower middle class as they should be for having white collar single father with zero expensive hobbies and only mild alcoholism as a breadwinner. 

The bad news, of course, was that it meant Danny put in even more hours than he did when things were bad, so he was essentially never around anymore, instead of just being around for short, awkward periods of time. 

Taylor immediately earmarked the majority of the money for replacing things that her bullies break, but Tanya gently cajoled her into using it on her mental health instead, buying some clothes that signaled that she cared enough about other people to dress in coherent outfits instead of… well, Tanya wasn’t enough of a fashionista to have an actual vocabulary for this, but in Japan, if she saw someone dressed like that, she’d immediately assume they were a NEET, or at least part of the ‘go-home’ club. Neither title was something that should ever be uttered with pride. Hm… actually, getting Taylor involved with a school club may be a good way to give her allies in battle against Emma and her cronies. She should have thought of that sooner. 

“Hey Tanya.” Taylor said as she finished putting on the last layer of her outfit, a thin jacket-like garment that looked nice but didn’t help much with the chill; summer may be on its way out but apparently Brockton was substantially warmer in the winter than most of the region due to some quirk of the local geography, so heat enough to avoid thick clothes was still in order until early November at the earliest. “Why are you so insistent that I dress up?” She asked. “Am I just playing your doll?”

“I’m not much of a girly girl either, as you put it earlier.” Tanya said sardonically. Taylor, why do you think Sophia and Madison bully you?” Tanya asked rhetorically. Taylor had hung the type 95 on a clothes hook, so she was talking audibly. It wasn’t a big deal, anyone outside would just assume Taylor was talking on the phone. “Emma clearly has her own personal reasons, but are the others just following Emma’s lead?”

“Yeah, I thought that’s what we decided.” Taylor asked, inspecting herself in the mirror. She was wearing a pale blue dress whose hem went a little below her knees, with the faux peach colored jacket lending a splash of color to the ensemble. Tanya thought it wouldn’t fit in all that well in Winslow, but for outings around town, it looked perfect. “But you have been listening to them, is there more to it?”

“Yes and no.” Tanya said, not quite sure how to broach this topic but deciding it was a good opportunity. “I’ve talked before about signal theory, how success in the workplace and other social groups is predicated by ‘signaling’ with your words and actions your positive intentions by following the rules and demonstrating desirable qualities, such as diligence and ambition. Promotions get doled out to those who show qualities that will serve them well in the new role, not just by excelling at the old role.” 

“You may have said one or two things about that.” Taylor said sarcastically, a wry smile on her face as she struck a pose she probably saw on a magazine cover, clear signs that she liked the outfit. 

It is one of her favorite topics, and they’re lessons that Taylor sorely needs to dig herself out of the pit Emma’s dug for her. “A soldier doesn’t get promotions by killing the enemy, although it is prudent to avoid showing negative qualities like cowardice by shying away from such actions, but they get promotions for showing an understanding of war at a greater level than their current rank allows for.” This was the main reason she managed to get that rear line promotion she worked so desperately hard for… until the Unified States dropped a fucking nuke on her head, ten years early. Now that was uncalled for, they didn’t hit Kyoto or Tokyo in her original timeline, why Berun?

Moving on. “I use the workplace as a metaphor, the core point is that if you want the student body at large to treat you as something other than an outcast, you must signal that you are part of the group, any group, instead of being alone. Mistrust for lone wanderers is a deeply rooted instinct for humans, because if someone is alone, there must be something wrong with them. It leads one to lend more credence to rumors that affirm this view, such as the allegations vis a vis drugs.”

Taylor hummed as she finished removing the dress, folding it neatly and putting it in the ‘buy’ pile, before starting to put on the next outfit; a jeans and blouse combo that should be more appropriate for high school. “Dress for the job you want?” She said, presumably echoing some choice bit of cultural wisdom she had heard in the past. 

“Precisely.” Tanya said, “Applying this to high school, this means you need to use this ceasefire, this opportunity, to conduct diplomacy: reach out towards cliques that could watch your back, bear witness, and provide corroborating testimony for the next conflict.” 

“So stay away from the chess club?” Taylor joked. “That’ll just get me bullied more.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Tanya said, “It’s less than ideal, certainly, but there is still strength in numbers, otaku may prefer to knuckle under when pressed, but they do watch out for their own when they can. It’d be a step up to now, so let’s call that plan C.”

“I don’t know how to play Chess.” Taylor said, although she looked amused at Tanya’s small pun. 

“I’m pretty good, not that I’m much for bragging.” Tanya said, “The Twelve Knights had a tourney the day before the official ceremony, and I got second place.” Klaus von Schugel, the doctor’s grandson, made beating everyone else look easy. After he won, he played everyone else at once and still won most of them. Her strategy of throwing in a few insane plays to exploit the limited attention he could pay to each game worked, and she was one of the three games he lost as a result. “Once I was back in the rear lines, I regularly played for fun with other officers to network.”

Taylor finished putting on the new outfit, and she looked exactly like she belonged in the busy hallways of Winslow High, moving with the crowd instead of desperately avoiding it. “I think we have a winner! It’s perfect, wear this on Monday.” Tanya said. 

“Thanks, Tanya.” Taylor said, smiling wider than ever. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.