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[Georgia Lee Day continued from The Library is the Powerhouse of the Student]

It was the unfairness of the whole thing that really got to Georgia Lee.

The scrape on her cheek was ugly, but it hardly hurt and it'd heal. Her ribs were tender from where she'd hit the ground, and her elbows skinned from where she'd caught herself, but Georgia Lee had fallen before, and those minor injuries she could deal with. Even the bite mark on her shoulder - and really, what kind of child just bit someone - hardly bothered her.

No, it was the sheer injustice of the whole situation that bothered Georgia Lee. She'd avoided confrontation. She'd walked away, even, and what had she got? Attacked from behind, leapt on and bitten like a... like a darned deer or something. And then? And then? When the teachers finally pulled them apart, was she comforted? Was she told that it was okay, that she'd done well to protect herself, that everything would be okay?

Georgia Lee snorted, bitterly.

No, that would have been fair. Instead she was here, locked in a room with this animal, as if they were the same. As if what they'd done, as if anything about them was in any way comparable. She'd won awards for Cochise, she'd been innumerable teams and committees and groups, she'd spent hours, even days of her life working to make the school better, and how was she treated? At the end of it all, no better than some... some feral junkie.

It was just so unfair.

Still, she'd given as good as she'd got, if not better. The girl may have tackled her completely without warning, may have had her on the ground before Georgia Lee had even had an idea what was going, may have been... what? 3 feet taller than her? And yet, it wasn't Georgia Lee with an ugly, greenish bruise blossoming on the side of her face. It wasn't Georgia Lee who'd looked on the verge of tears, when the teachers' hands had grabbed them and lifted them, with Fiyori still struggling and scratching, away from each other. Georgia Lee's eyes had been wide and shocked, but they'd been dry.

Georgia Lee wasn't the one panting, after the fight. Georgia Lee wasn't the one struggling to stand straight. No, Georgia Lee was the one who'd spent endless hours swinging at balls in the batting cages, who'd barely gone a day without exercise in nearly five years. She wasn't some spindly stoner who's idea of a workout was walking from the couch to the fridge. Georgia Lee could do seventy-five pushups without needing to change her shirt afterwards. After the fight she'd brushed her hair back, out of her face, and her face had been calm, and reasonable, and innocent.

Fiyori's face had been... Georgia Lee didn't know. It wasn't a mixture of emotions she'd seen before. There was fear, and anger, surprise, hatred, she didn't know what else. The smug, self-satisfied smirk that Fiyori's face had seemed permanently set in had been gone, though. Despite herself, and despite her situation, Georgia Lee had taken some minor satisfaction from that.

She looked at the girl, over her shoulder. Fiyori's eyes were firmly afixed on the paper in front of her, and she was glowering. She looked furious, but for once she wasn't staring at Georgia Lee. Had she learned her lesson? Perhaps this had been what was needed, to show that Georgia Lee wasn't some meek little lamb, who'd allow herself to be pushed around and beaten. Perhaps now Fiyori'd move on to some other, weaker target.

The idea that the solution to her problem this whole time had been violence wasn't a particularly attractive one, but Georgia Lee was still hopeful that that might be the case. It'd make this whole ordeal worth it, if Fiyori would finally leave her alone. Standing in front of the teachers, her cheeks burning, being reprimanded for fighting, looked down on and told "she was better than this" like she didn't know that already. Being made to sit here, with these reprobates, on an afternoon when she should be at practice. It wouldn't go on her permanent record, they'd taken pains to assure her of that, and though that hardly made it any less unjustified, she'd accept all the unfairness, all the injustice, all the... the bullshit of this whole affair, if it finally got Fiyori to leave her alone.

Maybe word would even get around to Fiyori's idiot friends, and they'd back off too. Georgia Lee's frustration had turned, in the space of a few minutes, to a sort of quiet optimism. Who knows, perhaps things were looking up for her.

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Acid Rain · East Wing