Girlztown #01

It started in the library. One girl grabbed the other's wrist like she meant to break something. No more careful looks across the table, no more pretending they weren't ready to tear into each other right there between the shelves. Bodies slammed the old wooden desk first, books scattering like shrapnel. Then the coffee table legs scraped as someone shoved it with a knee, someone else going down hard. Cushions slid off the couch in a hurry, knees bruising carpet as they climbed and clawed, straps yanked, mouths biting shoulders, hips grinding like they had no time. Each surface got wrecked in turn: slick wood, worn leather, scratchy floor. Legs locked, fingers dug in deep, every wet sound too loud for the four quiet walls. No hiding now. Just sweat and force and whatever they called breathing through their teeth when neither one would slow down.