Chapter Text
“Regina?” Mr. Rapp calls.
She pauses and grits her teeth, turning to look at him. Her next class is on the other side of the school, and she only has four minutes to get there. She always feels terrible about being late, but the worst part is missing out on a spot in the front row. Mr. Rapp doesn’t believe in writing late passes either.
“Are you applying for the freshman mentorship program?” He asks.
“No,” she says, she fights to not roll her eyes. That’s what this is? A stupid volunteering program she wouldn’t get anyway?
She needs another two-hundred volunteer hours to graduate with commendation, which isn’t required of course, but looks good on college applications. This program would be a neat get, too, easy stuff for over a hundred hours of work, but it’s super exclusive. Top grades, perfect record, teacher letter, plus an applicant essay. They only pick out three seniors to do it, and close to two hundred kids apply every year.
“Why not?” Rapp asks.
“I’m pretty sure Principal DuVall wouldn’t want me mentoring anyone,” Regina answers.
“He’s been really impressed by your growth this year, we all have,” Mr. Rapp says.
“No one gives prizes to most improved,” Regina points out.
Mr. Rapp furrows his brow. “They—very much do. Listen, if you change your mind—you should change your mind. This is a great opportunity. What do you have to lose by applying at least?”
“I have to go to class,” Regina says.
“Sure,” Mr. Rapp says. He waves her away.
Prior to the zinc, she would’ve felt ashamed at running through the hallway to avoid being late to class. Post-zinc, she’s still ashamed, and she’s doubly ashamed of bursting through the door as the bell rings, technically on time, even while the teacher glares at her. She slouches to the seat in the back. At least she keeps her attendance record.
Lunch time and Janis is sitting across from her again. Regina idly flips through college websites, doing her best to ignore her.
It works too well, she leaps in her skin as Janis scoffs above her.
“Oberlin?” Janis asks. “Why Oberlin? It has the three things you hate most in the world: liberals, Ohio, and pig roasts.”
She threw a fit at a pig roast one time when she was eight and no one let her forget it.
“I was just looking at it,” Regina says. “They sent me an email, I don’t know.”
“Right,” Janis says. “Why aren’t you going to New York?”
“New York is obnoxious,” Regina says.
Janis raises her eyebrows. “Then LA?”
Regina scoffs. “You think I want a camera shoved in my face 24/7?”
“Yes,” Janis says. “It’s you, like, yeah I do.”
“Well, I don’t,” Regina says. She looks at her nails, the beds bleeding, her knuckles scraped up from where she’s picked away at them.
“Huh,” Janis says.
Brian, her therapist, has been working with her on how to have conversations with her peers that aren’t transactional. She’s supposed to ask a question here.
“Where are you thinking?” She asks.
Janis blinks. “For what?”
“For college—or—I mean—after graduation,” Regina says. She picks at her fingers some more.
“I’m taking a gap year,” Janis says. She narrows her eyes. “Why.”
Regina rolls her eyes. “I guess I wanted to know.”
“Huh,” Janis says. She sits back down across from her. “Okay, I’ll bite. I get you doing some work on yourself post-accident, but this is just—” she waves a hand around Regina “weird. Like pod person weird. What’s up with you?”
“Nothing’s up with me,” Regina scoffed, she turned back to her computer. “If you don’t like it you’re welcome to spend your lunches somewhere else.”
“I didn’t say that,” Janis said. “I’m just—” She swallowed and Regina forced herself to meet her eyes again. “I’m wondering how long it’s gonna last.”
Regina looked back down, trying to ignore her stinging eyes. “A while, I guess.”
“Cool,” Janis said. She put her hand out, near Regina’s computer, almost touching Regina. Inches away. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I—I wanna forgive you. For the outing thing. For middle school,” she said. “I need time but—I mean if you wanna keep hanging out, I’d be down.”
Regina feels herself nod. “Yeah, no that’d be cool.”
Janis smiled. “Plans this weekend?”
“I have a french essay,” Regina says.
“Come to my birthday party,” Janis says.
Regina blinks. “What? Why would I—I’m not going just so you can—”
“No, seriously,” Janis says. She nods. “It’s gonna be a small thing, the art freaks, a few plus ones and a few of their plus ones. Some chill music and like, mostly weed. My brother did a big dispensary run.”
“No,” Regina says. “Why would you want me there anyway?”
“Because,” Janis shrugs.
Regina shakes her head and finds herself in front of Janis’s house the next weekend anyway, hands sweating and shaking as she waits for someone to answer the doorbell. If she didn’t see all the cars parked out front, she’d assume it was a prank, that Janis lied about the time, the day, whatever, and pigs blood would fall on her face.
“Hey,” Jasper opens the door, Janis’s other brother. His eyes are bright red and there’s a red streak running through his cartoonishly emo haircut. “Wassup buttercup.”
“Hey,” she answers.
“All the kiddies are in the garage,” he looks her up and down. “Did you change your hair?”
“Jasper, it’s been four years,” Regina says. The last time she saw him she was wearing a training bra that was a size too big.
“Huh,” Jasper shrugs.
She goes into the garage, everyone’s chilling on couches watching TV, and there’s a slight haze in the room.
“G!” Janis calls, and grins, dashing towards her. For a horrible second, Regina thinks Janis might hug her. Instead, Janis rocks on her heels, pausing in mid-air before shaking her head. “You made it!”
“Yeah,” Regina says. “Happy eighteenth. I was just gonna drop off your gift though, I got the essay and stuff.”
Damian scoffs and Regina flinches but hands over the gift anyway. It’s an art book of a collection of indigenous artists in North America from the 1950’s to the 2010’s. Some of the work had reminded her of Janis’s carefully embroidered jackets and she’d grabbed it right away.
“You got her a book?” Cady asks, looking at the square wrapped package.
“Thanks,” Janis grins at Regina. “Stay for food though, my mom made these impossible burger patties that I swear are to die for.”
“Yeah, food is gonna be what gets her to stay,” Aaron says. He and Damian laugh and Regina tosses her hair, ready to spit—
“Hey,” Cady slaps his shoulder. It’s gentle but it gets him to blink out of the TV and his eyes to widen.
“What?”
“Not okay,” Cady tells him.
He swallows and looks over at Regina before looking back at the TV. “My bad, I guess.”
Cady sighs.
“C’mon,” Janis says. She grins at her, going back to rocking up and down. “Just sit down for a little while, alright?”
Regina feels herself nod and get led to a nearby couch, sitting beside some kids she maybe recognizes from a production of Shrek the musical last year.
“I love your nails,” one of them says.
“Thanks,” she says. Her voice is quieter than she wants it to be, less intimidating.
They do a few rounds of some random games, watch some episodes of a TV show that’s probably better while high, and when it gets dark they all pile out into the backyard, wrapping themselves in coats while they watch Aaron and Kevin G. argue about who’s better at barbecuing.
It’s only when the burger's sitting on her plate that she remembers, and her stomach sinks.
“Does this have mushrooms in it?” Regina asks, trying to keep her voice casual.
“Yep,” Janis takes a massive bite. “My mom’s always yelling about protein and shit.”
“Oh, well, um—”
“Here we go,” Aaron says under his breath.
“Regina doesn’t eat mushrooms,” Gretchen recites. Regina flinches.
“Oh,” Janis furrows her brow. “That’s chill, Grace is allergic too, I’ll grab you a beef—”
“She’s not allergic,” Aaron clarifies. “Regina George can’t eat a high calorie food or she’d burst into flames.”
“I am actually allergic,” Regina says. “It’s a recent development.”
“No,” Gretchen argues. “I remember one time my mom put them in a salad she made for us and you accused her of trying to make us get as fat as she was. She was pregnant at the time.”
“They discovered the allergy this summer, after the bus,” Regina says.
“They discovered a mushroom allergy after a bus accident?” Damian asks. “Girl, what kind of hospital were you staying at that they were serving mushrooms?”
“So it’s not about losing all your gross kalteen weight?” Karen asks.
Regina swallows hard. She opens her mouth to say something, feels a rock in her throat instead, and dashes for the exit, for her car.
“Hey! Hey, Regina!”
Janis follows her into the house and she turns around quickly.
“Happy birthday,” she manages, thickly. “18’s a big one!”
“Don’t go,” Janis says, eyes wide. “Please?”
“No,” Regina says. She swallows again. “I’ve gotta work on my—” her voice cracks. Fuck, she’s crying in public, fuck fuck fuck. She looks away, desperately trying to take a deep breath.
Janis grabs her hand. “Hey, I’m sorry about them. They were being dicks.”
Regina shakes her head. She’s not gonna take Janis’s sympathy. Of course Aaron would be a dick to her, she cheated on him. Twice. How many times has she bullied Damian? And Gretchen? Called Karen fat? It’s not like this isn’t what she deserves. She hasn’t even apologized.
“And I’m sorry too,” Janis says. She pulls Regina into a hug. Regina freezes. “I haven’t apologized for the revenge party shit from last year, but you deserve one. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t funny, it nearly killed you. I’m so sorry,” she says into Regina’s hair.
Regina can’t even move her arms around her. Something pulses in her chest, warm and frantic.
“Um, it’s okay,” her voice squeaks out. Janis pulls away and meets her eyes.
“I’m glad you came,” Janis says. She smiles and Regina’s chest soars, her hands shake.
“Me too,” Regina says. She wants Janis to hug her again.
Janis raises her eyebrows. “Really?”
Regina wipes at her cheeks and manages a full breath again. “Happy birthday, Jay. I’ll see you, Monday.”
“See you,” Janis says. She opens her mouth like she might say something but closes it again and makes her way back to the party.
Regina walks straight into a massive cloud.
“Dude,” Jasper says. “That was like, so totally gay.”
Regina coughs and fans the air. “Are you twelve?”
“Not anymore,” Jasper says.
She drives home and when she parks and can finally look at her phone, a text from Cady shines on the home screen.
“Can we talk?”
Cady comes into the coffee shop with circles under her eyes, and she sips at the decaf chai latte like it might burn her tongue. Regina watches her.
“What’s up?” Regina asks.
“Aaron’s—” Cady swallows. She looks down at her cup. She looks out the window. “When you were dating Aaron, did he ever—why did you two break up the first time? Gretchen told me it was because you wanted to get with Shane Oman but—why did you two break up?”
“Aaron caught me cheating with Shane,” Regina sipped at her coffee. “He was checking out some other girl at the pool or something and I slept with Shane to make him jealous. He wasn’t even that good.”
Cady nods. She looks at the grain on the table. “Did he ever—sometimes—”
“Cady, spit it out.”
“What did you do when he commented on your stretchmarks?” Cady asks. “Or like, your weight? Did he do that with you? Do you even have stretchmarks?”
“Am I forty? Of course not,” Regina spits. She blinks. “That was a lie, wait, Aaron’s doing what?”
Cady plays with the edge of her cup. “He didn’t do it with you?”
“Honestly, Cady?” Regina says. “I don’t remember. I barely listened to him and most of junior and sophomore year is a blur to me anyway. I had really bad insomnia at the time.”
Cady blinks. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Regina says. “If he’s being a dick you should tell him though.”
“Well, he said that you—” she flinches, “he said you would talk to him like that whenever I try to say anything. Or that you never had a problem with him saying stuff, like he’s always talking about you and—is that normal? I think he still loves you.”
Regina stares. “Why are you—you’re coming to me with this?”
“Gretchen and Karen can’t keep a secret and Damian and Janis are useless about this stuff,” Cady says. “I asked my mom and she just told me to dump him. But I love him. He’s the only boy I’ve ever loved. I didn’t know I could love anyone like that. Maybe I won’t again. Did you love him?”
Regina searches herself. “No, I don’t think so. It was more like—a security blanket. I don’t think I ever saw him as a person. He was just someone I didn’t think would leave me.” Regina sighs. “Can you not tell people I said that?”
Cady’s eyes shine. “I knew Janis was right about you. The old Regina never would’ve admitted that.”
Regina scoffs. “I don’t know why Janis is being so nice to me. I wouldn’t if I was her.”
“I think you would’ve, and Damian, Gretchen, and Karen should too. I’m sorry about the party, you shouldn’t have had to leave early.” Regina waves a hand but Cady shakes her head. “No, it’s not okay. And I’m sorry about the revenge party too. All of that for a boy who doesn’t even even see me as a person.”
Regina swallows. “You think he doesn’t—”
“I think he’s using me, the same way you used him,” Cady says. Her voice wobbles. “I wish I didn’t love him.”
Regina feels her heart race. What’s she supposed to do now? What cheers people up?
“Do you want a fifty dollar bill?” She asks.
Cady stares at her.
Do people not like money? Isn’t that a universal like?
“I have one in my wallet, let me just—”
“Regina give me a hug!” Cady tells her and Regina’s eyes widen farther. Why does she want that? Does she start now or—
Cady goes to her side of the table and throws her arms around her, sniffling in Regina’s Gucci sweater. She’ll dry clean it this weekend.
Is that what she’s supposed to be thinking about? Dry cleaning? Does this mean she’s still a horrible person because she didn’t even think to hug her?
Regina’s arms lift around her. Is she supposed to go over the arms or under the arms? Is she supposed to be patting? Rubbing? She pats Cady’s head just to be safe. Everyone knows how to hug, even babies know how to hug. How come Regina doesn't know how to hug? How come she's broken and brain damged. Fuck her fucking dead dad for doing this to her. She's so fucking brain damaged because of him.
Fuck, she's so brain damaged.