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Hope van Dyne first meets Antoinette Stark at an All-Girls Boarding School. Antoinette sits across from her during breakfast. Hope doesn't see much of Antoinette aside from her curly cocker spaniel hair, which refuses to stay in its ruby red ribbons. Antoinette's nose is always buried in a book far too thick for an eight-year-old. That's what Hope's instructors say when she's done for the day, and they're gossiping where they think she won't hear them. She doesn’t chat with Antoinette, not due to their family tensions, but because Hope doesn’t talk to anyone. Not unless she needs to, because her mom's gone, and they won’t tell Hope the why aside from that her mom is dead.
As far as Hope is concerned, she won’t say anything before they will.
Therefore, it isn’t out of curiosity that Hope talks to the older girl.
Actually, it’s because of a rogue pudding hurdling towards Antoinette’s latest fancy.
“Look out!” Hope warns, but it’s too late.
The sugary treat coats the entire book, and some girls beside Hope snicker while Antoinette stares at her ruined book forlornly. Hope turns to look at the girls harshly before looking at the perpetrator.
Tiffany Stone, barely stifling her laughter with a pointedly absent pudding cup from her array of dishes. It can't be anyone else because her spoon is still dripping with the damning evidence.
"You apologize to her!" Hope demands from where she's standing.
The blonde witch (and Hope will refuse to take back that assessment of the girl) has the nerve to make her marble-like eyes big like a deer.
"Oh, whatever for?" Stone asks.
"You know what you did you big old-" Hope trails off because of a tap on her shoulder.
Antoinette's eyes are watery, but her tears refuse to spill over. She came around the table to stop Hope.
"Don't," Antoinette says softly.
"What?" Hope's face screws up confused, the way she knows her Nanny would chastise her for.
Antoinette's lips are thin when she jerks her head towards a nearby hall monitor.
Oh.
"I'll wash it off and write to my Aunt Peggy," Antoinette adds with a shrug.
"But the pages--!" Hope protests.
"That's why I'll write to my Auntie."
"It still wasn't right!" Hope's throat gets tight, and her voice gets high.
The snickering girls get louder because of Hope's voice. Hope hates that when she gets angry, her eyes get teary. She doesn't want anyone to see this.
"Will you help me wash my book in the washroom?" Antoinette asks loud enough for others to hear, somehow catching onto Hope's discomfort.
"Please."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Antoinette hands Hope a soaked paper towel, “Use this.”
“What for?”
The brunette opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She bites her lip before putting her book down and pointedly looking at Hope.
“The, uhm the,” Antoinette makes tear stain gestures against her face with her fingers, “to make sure your eyes don’t swell. Pat it against your eyelids.”
“Oh.”
“Then can you help me with my book?” Antoinette asks again.
“Uh, yeah.”
The towel is cold and scratchy against Hope’s face. When she looks in the mirror, her eyes aren’t as red as they were. Antoinette is scraping the blobs of pudding off with a paper towel. They plop into a trash can she dragged under the sink.
“What do you want me to do?” Hope asks.
She feels awkward just standing there.
“Could you wet more paper towels for me?”
Hope nods and does just that.
“And use cold water, like for your eyes.”
Hope folds the damp towels neatly along the rim of the sink. Soon, there’s a pile of dripping towels along the marble rim. Unfortunately, the poor book looks unsalvagable despite their best efforts. From what Hope can see, the words on the pages have been smeared even if Antoinette used careful strokes.
The brunette’s shoulders are quaking, and her hair hides her face. It’s probably sticky with tears.
“I’m sorry about what happened to your book,” Hope finds herself saying.
“It’s okay,” Antoinette says in a surprisingly steady voice.
“Tiffany is a real jerk, I don’t understand why she did that.”
“I know her. I met her at a gala with -” Antoinette takes a heaving breath, “-my mom, before she…”
“It’s okay! Do you want a hug? My mom, she would -” she gets a little choked up too.
“Yes.”
Hope scoops Antoinette into her arms as much as she can, like her mom used to. Antoinette’s little taller, so Hope ends up with curly hair in her face but, she doesn’t care.
"There, there," Hope mumbles as Antoinette shakes.
She rubs Antoinette's back like her mom used to. Hope's face feels hot again, and she ends up crying too.
***
They have to separate when a warning bell rings. Antoinette and Hope both hurriedly wipe at their eyes with the leftover towels. Hope glances at Antoinette from the corner of her eyes. She's still holding onto her ruined book, now sopping wet against her black skirt.
"We can get back at her," Hope suggests half-heartedly.
She's been told that conniving isn't a good look on her, but Hope thinks she looks fantastic. Antoinette perks up noticeably, almost poking her eye with her fingernail.
"You'd do that with me?" Antoinette says with a hopeful smile.
"Uh, yeah," Hope replies, a little shocked.
"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," the brunette holds a thin hand out in a business-like motion.
Hope grabs the offered hand, and they shake on it.
"Pleasure meeting you, Hope van Dyne," Antoinette says with a tone she must've learnt from her father.
"To you as well, Antoinette Stark," Hope mimics her.
"It's Toni," Antoin-- Toni corrects.
Not another second is spared as a bell rings, and they part ways.