(A/N: Above is a reference of Theodora.)

Georgia had never seen anyone so angry. She had seen people upset, she had seen people scream at the top of their lungs. But she had never seen anyone with such a wet anger. With burning angry tears, with eyes that looked like they were drowning in pain. 

As sick as it sounded, Georgia had found it interesting. She had found that furious redhead interesting. 

So, that's why Georgia had found herself in a front row seat of a teenage brawl. Teens placed bets, throwing in amounts varying from a couple of drunkenly thrown pennies to twenties and hundreds. People gathered in a circle around whoever had decided they wanted to throw punches.There were no rules to be heard of, nothing stopping someone from going too far. 

It wasn't Georgia's preferred entertainment, but she had only came to watch for the redhead. 

She had stormed her way out into the back yard, signed her name onto the sheet that sat on a table by the back porch, and waited for her name to be called. 

It was vicious, ugly fighting with only angry feelings involved. The ginger had thrown her fist up quickly as a bigger man had thrown a punch. The next one she had dodged, earning claps from drunken teens. 

The first hit she had landed on him was on his left side, just under his ribcage. She didn't wait for the guy to regain his footing before punching him square in his gut, then in the head. He fell to the ground and she had straddled him, punching any and every part of him she could see. Her red hair fallen freely in her angered expression. 

Georgia cringed as a random guy from the crowd had ran to punch her in the face, knocking her off of her opponent. She had only situated herself on her side before someone kicked her in her stomach, forcing her to cough up a mixture of food and saliva. She keeled over, clutching her stomach. 

"Bitch!" Someone hollered, stomping on her dirtied red head. 

Eventually, someone pulled the guy off of the ginger, ending what they had considered a match. Georgia stood and followed the ginger as she limped her way to the back porch, ignoring the shouts aimed at her. Instead of confronting the angry crowd, she flipped them off and leaned her head against the brick of the house. 

"Are you willing to let me take you home?" Georgia asked, digging through her pockets for her keys. She ignored the girl's glare as she pulled her phone out of her back pocket. 

"No. I'll get home myself" She spat, wiping her chin rid of blood. "Fuck off, Blondie." 

Georgia smiled. "Pretty vulgar, aren't you? Are you really going to turn down a free ride home?" Georgia watched as she considered it. "You don't have a car, do you? And I'm willing to bet your girlfriend won't take you." Georgia didn't take her eyes off her phone, finishing her message to Annabelle. 

[Georgia: Got caught up in something. Can you score another ride home? Sorry, Belle.]

"Shut the hell up!" She grabbed Georgia's shirt and squeezed it. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you don't know a damn thing about me." 

Georgia offered her hand. "I'm a stranger offering to take a bloodied stranger to her home. I'm just trying to be a good samaritan here." 

"If you were trying to be good, you'd mind your damn business." She pushed Georgia, making her stumble into a random kid. 

Georgia laughed. "Oh, come on. You can barely stand. Just let me take you home, ginger." She offered her hand once again. 

Her eyes slowly closed as she leaned uncomfortably against the wall. "Screw you." Her eyes fluttered. "1247 Tarent Drive." She muttered, losing consciousness. 

"Alright," Georgia smiled, catching the ginger as she slumped against the bricks. "I'll take that as a yes." 

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

Georgia tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She had pulled up to 1247 Tarent Drive a few minutes ago, but there she was, still in the car with the unconscious ginger, contemplating her decisions. 

Was she just supposed to walk up to the door? What was she supposed to say? 

"Oh, uh, here's your daughter. I know she's a mess and she's bleeding, but it wasn't my fault. Please don't call the cops."

It didn't sound very realistic. 

"The hell?" 

Georgia turned to the ginger who stirred in her seat. She pulled at the seatbelt and groaned. 

"Hey, ginger." Georgia smiled. "We're at your house. Did you just wanna walk in bloodied or...?" 

"Oh, screw off." She groaned, sitting up completely. She opened her door and stepped out. She flipped Georgia off as she walked across the street. Instead of going to the front door, she slipped into the backyard. 

Georgia sighed, leaning back in her seat. She had finally found someone interesting. 

"What a princess she is." Georgia muttered, shifting her car into reverse.