Bring design ideas to the meeting. V. 

The text kept Peggy up last night. Hours were spent on Instagram, Pinterest and  Tumblr. What kind of design did she even want to make?

Dozens of outfits drawn. Pastels, cutouts, sequins. The more different she tried to make the designs, the more they all started to look the same. 

And none of them would win the Herringbone-House Competition. 

Peggy’s intestines knotted themselves together as she poked her head into the classroom the next day. 

A typical grey classroom on the second floor of the school’s 70s building. Grey walls, grey tables, grey chairs. The teacher has tried their best to liven the walls with bright displays, but it’s still a grey box. 

And a grey boy sits in the corner. 

“Hey.” Heart drumming in her ears, Peggy slips into the classroom feeling like her heavy footfalls and daisy patterned top are shaking away his grey peace. “How are you?”

Attis blinks at her. Like he is not used to being asked that sort of question. 

Even his eyes have a grey hue to them. 

“Fine.” Folding his arms over his chest, he looked her up and down. Peggy did the same, his baggy cobalt hoodie swallows his frame, a couple strands of his sandy hair have fallen into his eyes. He smirked. “Are you still scared of Viv?”

“A bit.” That’s a lie. She’s still very scared of Vivienne Stock. 

“Are you still scared of me?” 

“A bit.” 

Peggy repeated with a smile. That’s an even bigger lie.

Last night there was a confirmed sighting of Attis’ father in the town. 

Someone had posted about it on the community Facebook group. Her parents had shaken their heads at the news. Their neighbour, Bill, told them all about the new security cameras he’d ordered this morning while Peggy and Mack took the bins out. The whole town was on edge.

“Liar.” Attis smiled. 

“I hate the bloody rain.”

Vivienne threw the door open making Peggy jump and Attis chuckle darkly. 

Tossing her bag aside, Vivienne clambered on top of the desk bedside Attis, peeling her soggy denim jacket off she chucks it aside as well. The safety pins running along the front of her jumper wink in the fluorescent lighting. 

“Hi Vivienne-” Peggy began.

“We are not doing niceties when we could be working. You two better not be wasting my time and have some good designs.” 

“You could contribute some designs yourself.” 

Attis tugged a sketchbook from his bag. The sketchbook is plain black and Peggy catches glimpses of twisting mannequins, grey skies and empty rugby fields as Attis flicks through it.

“I wish I could draw like that.” Peggy hums, Attis pauses on a collage of mannequins titled Herringbone-House Designs in print letters. She quickly notices a theme to his designs. 

Chunky boots. Belts which swallow waists. Jumpers which come to the knees. Layers of feminine lace against the harsh straits of traditionally masculine framed mannequins. 

“They are alright.” Viv’s nose scrunched, “Let’s look at your designs Peggy.”

Attis’ designs are not alright. They are brilliant. That means Peggy’s designs are going to be a lot less than alright. Maybe she could lie, tell them she forgot her sketchbook-

Hopping off the desk, Vivienne snatched Peggy’s bag and pulled out her sketchpad. Scowling at the pastel meadow scene painted on the front, Vivienne flipped through it. 

“That’s a lot of colour.” Attis says slowly, like his brain only knows how to process greys. 

“I find bright colours pretty.”

“We can tell.” Sighing, Vivienne casts the book aside. Peggy tries not to let that get to her, but in honesty it feels like Vivienne slapped her around the face with the sketchbook. “These aren’t good enough. Not if we want to win.”