"Are you freaking kidding me? If they want a war, we'll give them one!" Amanda's eyes widened as Cellie finished recounting the recent antics of the Hunters to the rest of the team. The tale reignited her fury, and retelling it—yet again, this time to Amanda, Susie, and Charlotte—rekindled the embarrassment and anger she'd felt earlier. She gripped her pint glass tightly, staring into its amber contents before taking a long gulp.
"I need a drink," Cellie had announced after their Games practice wrapped up, while they were untacking the ponies. They had crossed paths with the Hunt Team on their way back to the stables. Though Hannah and Barbara had avoided eye contact, Diana had made sure to give Cellie a tense nod, which she quickly reciprocated by looking away. Cellie had no intention of engaging in pleasantries with someone she considered an accomplice by association. Diana had tried to catch her after their Hippotherapy class before, but Cellie had simply ignored her and disappeared down the hallway.
Amanda slammed her pint down, grabbed the pitcher of lager their table had ordered, refilled her glass, and then chugged half of it in one go. That girl could down beer—something Cellie noticed early on during their initial nights out together.
They were at their unofficial hangout: a dark, traditional English pub named LAST WEDNESDAY SOCIETY. Many pubs around campus carried equine-themed names due to their proximity to a prestigious equestrian university, but this one was an exception. It felt cozy and clean, wasn't overly crowded, and the proprietor was kind and laid back.
"I still can't wrap my head around it," Charlotte said as she frowned at her bottle of Strongbow cider—"I'm not a beer girl," she'd explained—tracing circles around its top with her finger. "They've been tough to deal with before but never like this."
"They absolutely have," Amanda grumbled. "Remember when they shoved me into that manure pile? Told me 'you're shite; this is where you belong,'" she added in an exaggerated British accent.
"Oh yeah," Jasmine chimed in before downing her vodka shot and taking a substantial swig of her beer. Watching her gave Cellie pause; Jasmine could definitely hold her liquor. That first night out together, Jasmine had consumed so much vodka it was surprising she was still coherent.
"You kind of brought that one on yourself though," Charlotte remarked, cringing under the American's glare.
"Whatever. I still don't get why Hitchens even associates with them," Amanda grumbled on. "I don't like her—total snob—but she's not nearly as bad as them."
Cellie shrugged and gulped down the last of her beer, then poured herself another glass from their pitcher, topping off Missy's glass as well. The German girl grunted her thanks. "Who cares," she muttered.
"Speak of the bitches, and the bitches shall appear," Susie mumbled from across the table, clutching her beer with both hands.
Cellie turned in the booth to see two of the girls they had just been trash-talking walk into the pub. "Are you kidding me?" she groaned, spinning back around and sinking into her seat, trying to hide between Amanda and Charlotte.
"They've made a big mistake," Amanda growled, starting to stand up. But Cellie grabbed her arm and pulled her back down.
"Don't. Just ignore them."
Cellie braced herself for the Hunt Team to come over and hassle them again. With six girls cramped in a small pub booth, they were hard to miss. But surprisingly, the Hunt Team just grabbed drinks and settled at the bar, where they couldn't glance at Cellie's group without turning around.
"There are so many other places to go," Charlotte griped as she sipped her cider. "Why here?"
"Well, it is one of the better places," Jasmine replied with a shrug. "The other pubs get pretty rowdy. Plus, this one's closest to the stables." She grabbed a chip from the basket she'd ordered for the table and popped it into her mouth.
Missy nodded in agreement.
"Maybe we should find somewhere else," Charlotte suggested again.
"No way!" Cellie snapped, glaring at her friends. "We can't let them bully us out. They don't own Stargate Equestrian, or the stables, and certainly not anywhere else. Karera wa o shiridesu."
"English?" Amanda mumbled.
"Assholes."
"You could've just said that." Amanda eyed the beer remaining in their pitcher, glancing between it and the girls at the bar. "Hey, I'm going to get a refill."
Cellie still had nearly a full beer; two would be more than enough for her lightweight self—especially since she'd hardly eaten because she was so annoyed—but knowing that Jasmine, Missy, and Amanda liked to drink more, she just shrugged and took a sip of her lager before turning to Charlotte as Amanda slid out of her seat.
"How's Frank?" she inquired, though she hadn't yet had the chance to meet her roommate's boyfriend. Despite this, Charlotte often chatted about him—a guy who was part of the Appleton Games team, whom she had met last year and recently started dating. From what she gathered, he seemed nice enough, and she assumed she'd meet him soon at one of their team events.
Charlotte brightened, a satisfied grin spreading across her face as she fiddled with her bottle. "Oh, he's fantastic! He—"
A piercing scream cut through the air, halting whatever Charlotte was about to say and causing Cellie to spin around.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" Amanda shouted.
Cellie's eyes widened in shock as she took in the scene. Amanda had managed to tip the rest of their beer pitcher all over Hannah, who had leaped up from her bar stool, drenched and furious. Beer dripped from her face onto her white, off-the-shoulder top. Raising her hands in disbelief, she stared down at her soaked shirt.
"Amanda!"
Amanda stepped back, failing to suppress a broad grin. "Oops! Looks like I need to work on my coordination. You might want to take a bath."
"You bloody idiot!" Hannah yelled, stepping aggressively towards Amanda. The bartender, initially bewildered and apologetic, quickly grew angry.
"Both of you need to leave now," he demanded, grabbing towels to clean up the spill and pointing angrily at the door. "We don't tolerate this kind of behavior here."
"What?" Hannah's shocked eyes turned toward him as beer dripped off her chin. "She did this! I had nothing to do with it!"
"I don't care," he replied sternly. "Both of you—out."
"Damn," Cellie muttered under her breath as Barbara stood up abruptly. Barbara was brushing beer off her grey blazer with an annoyed expression.
"That was incredibly immature," Barbara said, glaring at Amanda with flushed cheeks.
Amanda slammed the empty pitcher down on the bar forcefully before turning on her heel and making a dramatic exit past their puzzled teammates. A smirk tugged at her lips as she tossed ten pounds on the table and bid farewell with a playful salute. "See you later!"
Barbara hurried after an enraged Hannah who was blotting her wet face with her sleeves. Her auburn hair dripped on one side as Barbara wrapped an arm around her, whispering something likely vengeful in Hannah's ear—at least that's what Cellie surmised—as they departed together.
With a deep groan followed by a string of Japanese curses that made Susie raise an eyebrow, Cellie dropped her forehead onto the wooden table.
Getting embroiled in drama was the last thing she'd anticipated—or wanted—at her new school. Yet here she was, smack dab in the middle of it all.