Chapter Text
All the spreadsheets in the world couldn’t have prepared Glimmer’s committee for the overwhelming task of decorating the Bright Moon student center for homecoming. According to the school, they could expect between 175 and 250 people. Glimmer made it very clear, in several agitated phone calls, that 175-250 was absolutely not a reasonable margin. How were they supposed to buy enough food? What if they bought too much food? If too many people showed up, how were they ever going to manage fire safety?
Adora’s most important job (next to her Snack Coordinator duties, of course) was keeping Glimmer calm so that Bow could take care of any final, little chores before they ever made it onto Glimmer’s radar. She’d done enough in the weeks leading up to the dance, and she definitely didn’t need to worry about buying extra trash bags.
There was one emergency, however, that Adora and Bow unfortunately couldn’t hide. It was--of course--a last-minute dress fiasco. On Saturday morning, less than twelve hours before the dance, Glimmer realized that she’d never bought a dress. With all of the chaos and injuries, they’d never followed through on their plan to go shopping.
“Two words: thrift store,” Bow announced gleefully.
Apparently this was an activity that some people found enjoyable, but Adora didn’t really get it. She spent the entire hour-long excursion wondering how the experience of thrift shopping was different from regular shopping. Both were tiring and rather boring if you weren’t the person looking for something. When she asked him to explain why this was supposed to be more fun, Bow just stared at her like her head had suddenly turned into a lemon.
Glimmer tried on six very sparkly outfits before stepping out of the fitting room in a deep purple, mid-thigh dress with a layered skirt. Adora had plucked it off the rack on a whim because she felt about not contributing anything to Glimmer’s potential wardrobe options.
“What do you think?” Glimmer asked. Based on how poorly she was hiding a grin, her own feelings about the dress were fairly clear.
“You’re buying it,” Bow insisted.
Glimmer did one last twirl. As the poofy skirt settled from the spinning, her grin suddenly vanished. “Bow, we won’t be matching if I wear this.”
“That’s okay,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “We don’t have to match at every single dance. If you like this dress, you should wear it.”
She disappeared back into the fitting room and continued, grumbling. “Ugh. I wish I’d planned better. We could have ordered you a cummerbund and everything.”
“You know I prefer to fly bund-less.”
Glimmer popped out of the fitting room, new dress in hand. “What are you wearing, Adora?”
“Hm?” Adora perked up. She’d maybe zoned out a little.
“To the dance. What are you wearing?”
“Oh. I’m not going,” Adora said matter-of-factly.
Bow’s jaw dropped.
Adora looked between him and Glimmer (who was wearing a similar expression to when she realized, moments earlier, that she and Bow wouldn’t be matching).
“What?” Adora asked. “I said I’d help plan it.”
“You have to come!” Glimmer nearly shouted. A few other thrift shoppers glanced over at her.
Adora shrugged. “I don’t like dancing.”
“There’ll be plenty of other stuff to do. Like hanging out with us,” Bow said, nudging Adora with his elbow.
“Bow, I’m not gonna have fun. I don’t have a dress, I don’t have dance moves, and I--” She cut herself off.
“No third thing?” Bow asked.
Glimmer nodded. “I think that’s a sign.”
Adora finished her thought, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “I don’t have a date.”
Her somber tone was enough to quiet them for a few hours, but their pestering resumed hours later while the committee was putting the final touches on the setup. Entrapta had about a thousand feet of extension cords running from classrooms to the student center. She was in the middle of conducting her sound check when Bow and Glimmer hopped up next to her and grabbed the microphone.
“Adora,” Bow started.
Glimmer put on a huge smile and spoke into the mic. “Will you please come to homecoming with us?”
They just weren’t the kind of friends who gave up easily. Adora knew they were just trying to distract her, get her mind off of all the awful things from the past month for a night. She couldn’t help but appreciate the effort. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to give the dance a shot. This most very definitely did not mean she would actually be dancing at any point.
“Well, I can’t say no to a public proposal,” Adora joked.
The smiles on her friends’ faces were worth it, honestly.
***
Without field hockey practice eating her evenings and Saturdays, Catra suddenly had a whole lot of free time. It was nice for the first few days, but then it was just...boring. She hadn’t realized just how much of her social life was based around the Horde--which is to say, all of it. Sure, she didn’t usually bother sitting at the team lunch table or going to casual dinners with the squad, but she missed being invited. Inviting Adora over was obviously out of the question. Things were still weird and confusing. And so, Catra’s exciting Saturday night plans included rewatching a movie she’d already seen twice and burning a bag of microwave popcorn. Great. Awesome.
She practically choked on a charred kernel when she heard her phone buzzing. Scorpia.
“Why are you calling me?” Catra asked, picking up the phone.
“Hey! What are you up to tonight?” Scorpia’s ability to breeze past Catra’s surly greeting was equally amusing and annoying. Catra must have been terribly desperate for company because she consciously switched off the sarcasm.
“Literally nothing,” she replied, dreading the answer to her following question. “Why?”
“Entrapta’s playing at a concert tonight!”
That was...much cooler than Catra anticipated.
“Okay, it’s more of a rave. A dance. It’s the Bright Moon dance.”
Catra sighed. “Seriously, Scorpia?”
“Well, see, the thing is...she invited me, but she’s gonna be DJing the whole time, and I wanna support her, of course, but I’m pretty sure I’m gonna run into some old Bright Moon pals, you know?”
“Was that one sentence?” Catra sifted through her bag of popcorn in a futile search for an unburnt piece.
“Hey, you had fun at the lockdown, right? Until Coach Weaver did the whole...thing she does.”
“Yeah,” Catra scoffed. “Thanks for that, by the way.”
“Absolutely my bad. That one’s totally on me. So can I make it up to you by getting you into a super fun dance with great music?”
“How did this turn into a thing I want to go to at all?”
“Adora’s gonna be there.”
Catra paused. Was that a good thing? Yes? No. Maybe? “I don’t have an outfit.” It was an absolute lie, but it was the best excuse Catra could come up with on such short notice. Most of her brain was busy trying to ignore the image of Adora all dressed up, the two of them taking cheesy pictures in a photo booth (did people still do that?), maybe kissing in the photo booth...
“And like I said, the music’ll be great--”
“Fine,” Catra interrupted. “But only because I’m bored out of my mind.”
“Uh-huh.”
“This has nothing to do with Adora.”
“Uh-huh. Sure, Catra.”
“Scorpia--”
“I’ll swing by your place in an hour!”
Catra heard a click as Scorpia hung up.
Well. She had an hour--better not waste it.
***
Nothing sucked the magic out of an event like personally hanging each and every streamer only to watch freshmen rip them all down in the first ten minutes. A huge pack of them came in right at the official start of the dance, eager and ready to destroy all of the committee’s hard work in a competition to prove who could jump highest. Glimmer managed to keep from yelling, but only because one of her song requests came on right when she was marching towards the posse of freshmen. She and Bow went off to dance, but Adora didn’t feel up to it just yet. Alright, maybe she was stalling a little bit and hoping that no one would notice if she stood in the same place for three hours. When Bow and Glimmer left, the fact that Adora was the only person in the room not dancing became blatantly clear. Somehow it made her particularly thirsty, so she slipped out and found her way to the water fountains. She might have hung out by them for an extra thirty minutes or so.
The dance was going well, streamer damage notwithstanding. People were trickling into the decked-out student center steadily now, and Entrapta’s first original song of the night sounded like it went over well. No disasters yet.
As she watched couples and groups file into the dance, Adora smiled. Everything was going as planned.
A flash of stark white and black passed in front of her quickly.
“Scorpia?”
“Oh, hey, girl! Listen, I’d love to stop and chat with you and your water fountain pals, but I gotta get in there. I told Entrapta I wouldn’t miss--”
“No problem,” Adora broke in.
“You coming?”
“In a few.” That was the excuse she’d made twenty minutes ago. Fifteen minutes ago. Ten minutes ago.
When the distant doors closed behind Scorpia, Adora was alone in the hallway. At least for a moment. She took a deep breath, hoping to psych herself up enough to go back inside. It didn’t work.
Footsteps approached from around the corner. Whoever it was, they were clearly in no hurry. Adora might have guessed that they were stopping to scan every poster and announcement on the bulletin boards lining the hall. Once Adora saw who the footsteps belonged to, however, she knew that was very much not the case.
A loosely tied combat boot peeked around the corner. The laces disappeared under a fitted maroon trouser leg. Adora took in the matching jacket, magenta shirt, untied bowtie, and wild brown hair that somehow fit into the whole look perfectly. She must have been staring--her gaze finally settled on a familiar smirk, freckles, eyes like precious stones.
***
Catra would be lying if she said she didn’t absolutely love the awestruck look on Adora’s face. Her smugness only lasted a second, however--Adora had the audacity to look like some kind of Olympic goddess in a simple red halter dress. How was Catra supposed to stay cool around that?
“Um...surprise?” Catra managed to say.
“Yeah,” Adora replied. Good--knowing that they were both having a hard time finding words might make this a little easier.
They were alone in the hallway, for now, but the idea of shouting over Entrapta’s music was...well, it wasn't good. Catra swallowed hard and walked right up to Adora. She hadn’t exactly practiced in the mirror, but she had a good idea of what she wanted to say. Next time maybe she’d make flashcards.
Catra shifted her weight, failing to find a perfectly comfortable position to have a very uncomfortable conversation. If she waited much longer, it would get weird. Here goes, I guess.
***
“So...obviously this whole stupid mess wasn’t your fault.”
“Obviously,” Adora repeated. The tone bordered on teasing, fueling Catra’s hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t a lost cause.
“Hey, I’m trying to apologize. Stop being an asshole.”
Adora smiled, and Catra’s heart cracked open. All of the ugly things she’d pushed down for so long started to wither like weeds on the first hot day of summer.
“Remember when you said you felt like Coach Weaver was still in your head?” Like a termite, or a tick.
Adora nodded and placed her hand on Catra’s cheek, hoping it would offer some grounding. She’d never seen Catra look so soft, so willing to point to the weak spots in her own armor.
“I think I...I felt the same way when you said it. But it sucked, so I tried not to think about it.”
“I get that,” Adora reassured her. “But can I ask you something?”
“Yeah,” Catra said, a little distracted by how much closer Adora had gotten over the course of the conversation.
When Adora’s hand slipped away, Catra felt a tug in her stomach begging the warmth against her cheek to be more than just a ghost. Then her eyes opened again, focusing on the face in front of her.
“Why’d you take it out on me?”
And Catra’s heart split clean in half.
“I’m so sorry—” was all Catra could manage before a wracking sob rose in her throat. Both of her hands covered her face. She shouldn’t be upset right now, but knowing that she’d hurt Adora was the worst pain imaginable. Adora was the bravest, strongest, and kindest person on the planet, willing to face anything in spite of her own fear. Sandbox bullies. Cruel, vindictive, twisted authority figures. Falling in love with her best friend. Even if she was terrified on the inside, terrified on the outside, Adora was always brave enough to be honest. It was amazing.
Inspiring.
“I was scared,” Catra finally said. “I kept thinking I was never gonna be good enough. Not for my parents and teachers, or Coach Weaver...or you.”
Adora didn’t say anything. She just watched Catra, letting the tears fall instead of forcing them back and blurring her vision.
Catra went on. “It wasn’t fair.” She bit her tongue before she could fall into the familiar trap of self-doubt and deprecation. “To either of us.”
Adora nodded. She was standing there with tears streaking her cheeks, and Catra wanted to do nothing more than hold her. Despite the silent crying, Adora stood tall. She wanted to hear this, every word, and she wasn’t going to break until Catra was finished.
“You’re just...” With a shallow, shuddering breath, Catra continued, “seriously amazing, and it was easier to get all angry and jealous.”
“Easier than what?” Adora’s voice was so quiet that Catra could barely hear her question. The characteristic boldness in those stormy gray eyes softened into something so fragile that Catra could barely stand to see it laid out so plainly. Trust—Adora was letting go of a cliff’s edge and plummeting with nothing strapped to her back but the radical hope that someone would catch her at the bottom. Words alone couldn’t do such a brazen leap justice.
Catra hesitated for the briefest of seconds. Something flickered across Adora’s expression like a candle’s final, twitching wave as it snuffs out. She dropped her gaze to the the floor.
No. Catra’s fear wouldn’t cause Adora any more pain. It was time for Catra to be the brave one.
She reached for Adora’s hand, brushing her fingers just enough to make Adora look at her.
“Hey, Adora?”
“Yeah?”
That fragile spark returned to Adora’s eyes, and Catra kissed her.
In that kiss, she let herself say everything she’d held back the first time. All those things that could sprout claws and carve her heart out—she left them in Adora’s hands. Underneath it all, she found a wish, a single hope hiding at the bottom of this box of truly terrifying emotions. Please protect this. She took a moment to breathe, then dared to let it slip from her grasp.
Adora would have stayed there in that kiss forever if her traitorous lungs didn’t start demanding air. Beyond reluctant, she broke away, settling her forehead against Catra’s while she caught her breath. But Catra, of course, had the audacity to knock the wind out of her all over again.
“I’m...in love with you.”
Her words came out slowly, painstakingly, as if she was asking for permission.
Adora’s surprise got the better of her, and her mouth responded before her brain could. “Really?”
“You think I made that whole speech for fun? That was horrible.”
Adora tapped her chin. “Hm. Who else here could possibly know what it’s like to tell your best friend you have feelings for her? Oh, wait.”
Catra kissed her again just to scrub the smug look off her face.
“You know what is fun, though?” Adora asked, her breath fluttering over Catra’s lips.
“Are you gonna tell me?”
“Dancing.” Adora stepped back and offered her hand.
Catra stared at it for a moment and looked up at Adora dumbly. “You hate dancing.”
“Not with you, I don’t.”
With their fingers intertwined, they walked back to the dance floor. Well, Adora was doing something between walking and excited skipping, and Catra was coolly following a pace behind.
Entrapta’s playlist for the evening was mostly upbeat, fun-to-jump-to songs with a few slower ones sprinkled in. She slipped in one hardstyle track, which inspired some people to run out to get water and others to form a prototype mosh pit.
Glimmer and Bow grabbed Adora when “Mr. Brightside” started playing and tried to reach her some very elaborate choreography. Around 9:00 one of those songs that tells everyone what moves to do came on. Catra tried to slip away for a water break, but Scorpia dragged her back to the dance floor and made her promise to stay for at least the first chorus. Three choruses later, Catra finally made it to the water fountain.
She didn’t realize that being stuck in a pack of sweaty teenagers could actually be fun. Who knew? Plus, water tasted about a thousand times better after an hour and a half of dancing. She wiped a few drops of water from her lips and straightened her jacket. Why did she still have this thing on? It was the most important part of the outfit, sure, but no one was paying attention in a dark, strobe-lighty room. She shrugged the jacket off and went back for one a last sip of water. The music was loud enough that she could tell what song was playing from the hallway outside the student center, and she could tell it was almost over. People were screaming along, but it still wasn’t enough to drown out the pounding bass.
Footsteps echoed somewhere down the hall. Whoever they belonged to wasn’t quite confident walking in heels, but their effort was commendable. Catra glanced up and saw Glimmer, her sparkling purple dress even more dazzling in steady light.
“Are you coming back soon?” Glimmer asked.
Catra was a little surprised at the eagerness in her voice. “Uh, yeah. Just needed a sec.”
“Good. You should hurry.”
“Why?”
“Because I helped with the playlist and I think you’ll want to be back soon.” With that, Glimmer pivoted, barely catching herself as her balance wobbled. “Ugh. Stupid lady-stilts.” She stepped out of the infernal shoes and deftly picked them up before leaving.
When the pumping bass stop ripping through the walls, she took it as her cue to return.
Just as she walked in, the first lyrics of the next song came on. It was one of those cheesy piano ballads that she hated, but she couldn’t help but notice the tension in her stomach. Maybe these songs were a little less annoying when you finally understood them.
She spotted Glimmer, Bow, and Adora at the back of the crowd slow dancing together in a triangle.
It was definitely awkward, given the height discrepancies in the group, but they were all yelling along to the song in a beautiful cacophony. Adora would have had it no other way. Mermista drifted past the trio and shot them a glare, but she gave up the aloof act as soon as Sea Hawk spun her into his arms and started serenading her. Mermista barely even rolled her eyes.
As soon as the song hit the high note at the start of the chorus, Bow’s voice cracked spectacularly. They all laughed, swaying in some semblance of rhythm. When Adora recovered from the giggling, she saw Catra approaching them. As she got closer, Adora noticed that she was very deliberately looking anywhere but in the direction she was walking. If anyone could rival Mermista for “most obviously trying to be chill but failing spectacularly,” there she was, striding across the floor with her jacket slung over one shoulder. So casual.
When Catra finally got to their group, she put a hand each on Glimmer and Bow’s outer shoulders. “You guys mind if I cut in?”
“Not at all, Lady Catra,” Bow said, breaking the triangle and sweeping his arm across his body in a dramatic, low bow.
Glimmer squeezed Adora’s shoulder and smiled. “We’ll see you guys later.” She took Bow’s arm and they waded into the crowd.
This time, Catra was the one to offer her hand. Adora took it, guiding it until it landed on her waist. The look of mild shock on Catra’s face was priceless. Adora took the opportunity to grab Catra’s other hand and interlace their fingers, coaxing her closer until there was just a sliver of space between them. Adora sort of wished Catra was still wearing her jacket so she could feel the velvety lapel under her right palm, but after a moment she noticed something so much better. With her hand on Catra’s upper chest, she could just make out her heart beat. “Racing” wouldn’t exactly do it justice. “Kickboxing” seemed more appropriate.
Adora was pretty sure that kissing Catra wasn’t going to calm either of their hammering hearts, but she did it anyway.
“I love you, too,” Adora said.
They danced, the love song in the background a timid suggestion by comparison.
***