Chapter Text
She spills a cup of coke and all the liquid spreads. It starts dripping and it's all over the table and floor. She curses under her breath and starts dousing napkin after napkin trying to soak all of it.
An image flashes in your head. It's a picture you saw on Facebook. A wall or some sort of stone block. There is a huge crack in the middle of it and someone tried fixing it with ducktape.
“Hashtag my life”, you say sarcastically and give more napkins to the strange girl in front of you.
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Sometimes there is leftover cherry pie at the restaurant and you and Kara have dessert after dinner. You finally know her name, after seeing her badge, but you haven't told her yours. You considered it, but you kind of know she's been dying to know more about you and you love seeing her struggle, so you decide to keep quiet.
You stuff your face with a second piece of pie and she looks at you funny. You tell Kara politely to go have sexual intercourse with herself and try to lick the remaining sauce around your lips.
You really love cherries.
Cherry pie, cherry juice and cherry chapstick.
You used to kiss her under the bleachers and jam out to that one Katy Perry song when you got home. You used to take her out to Wendy's and settle for apple pie just because she preferred it. You used to feel like cherries blossomed in your stomach every time she looked at you.
And it felt like they withered like they started rotting the moment you saw the look on your mother's face.
Sometimes there's cherry pie at the restaurant and you can't even look at it. Your stomach contracts and you feel sick.
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One day she decides to make you her personal therapist.
“My boyfriend doesn't love me”
She's looking at the stars and your turn to see her. You let your eyes roam her face and take in every detail. Her tired eyes and clean-cut collar, the narrow lines of her face and her ruffled hair, her thinned lips and you wonder where her thoughts had drifted to.
“That's shitty”
You see her smile and hear her take a deep breath.
“I don't think he's ever loved me, really.”
You look at the stars, too. You see how bright they look, how beautiful and you want to reach out and grasp them in the palm of your hands. You want to take one and hide it in the inner pocket of your black leather jacket. You want to take it everywhere you go, so it could never leave you, so it could always keep you warm and be the light that guides you.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath.
“It's better that way. You have no idea what it's like to see a fire go cold”
She stays quiet. You don't open your eyes until you hear her shuffle next to you.
''Let's go back to the restaurant”
You follow her and for the hundredth time wonder whether it was your fault. You look at the stars and think that maybe you didn't reach far enough.
She opens the door for you and there's a split second where you lock eyes.
“Some fires need to die out so you don't get burned.”
You think about it for a minute. Then you decide you've had enough philosophy shit for today and go get some pie.
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She decides 22 questions is the perfect way to spend one Saturday night. You think it's the perfect way for her to finally extract some information. You don't want to kill her enthusiasm, though, so you just settle on giving the most cryptic answers possible.
She tries to act casual at first, you'll give her that. You go through a couple of questions concerning your favourite colour, animal and soft drink and both of you feel a bit awkward because none of you care. Black, wolf and coke. She laughs at every answer and says she's not surprised. You act offended and tell her to take her pink poodle back to suburbia for tea time with the book club. She throws a salt shaker at you. You duck and then take a minute to realise what happened.
“I did not picture you as a fan of physical assault.”, you say while looking at the spilt salt and broken shaker on the ground.
“You're one to say that! When will you tell me where all those bruises and scars are from?”
You act like you didn't hear that.
“You know spilt salt brings bad luck.”
She scoffs and you give her one of your best smirks.
She stares at the table for a while. Then you see something shift in her gaze and she hastily rolls up one of her sleeves. You see a scar just under the elbow of her left arm. It looks old and has faded but you can tell it was a deep cut.
“I fell while I was playing tennis. I must have been in 6th grade. Back when I still enjoyed it.”
You stay quiet and act like you don't know why she's telling you this. Like you're not supposed to do the same with the scar over your knuckles or the ones she can't see.
“I have a lot of those.”, you say quietly.
Her brows furrow and you feel something weird in the pit of your stomach when you see the concern written on her face.
''Scars?'', her voice is timid and something in the way she asked makes you think she doesn't want to hear the answer.
“Things I don't enjoy.”
She smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes. It's one of those sad smiles and you have to look away. She stops with the questions and goes to look if there's any pie left.
You try to pick up all the salt on the floor.
You've never been superstitious and normally you wouldn't have done this, but you've been feeling different lately, so you throw some salt over your shoulder.
Kara comes and helps you pick up the pieces of the broken salt shaker.
“You're wilder than I thought.”
She smiles at you and points at a scar on her right ankle.
“Got that after a fight.”
You scoff.
“Yeah, right!”
She laughs and you forget about the salt and the shaker, and all of your scars.
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She doesn't talk about her parents.
But the bags under her eyes are bigger, her hair is messier and she looks so, so tired, more than usual. It could be something else that's bothering her, not her parents, per se, but you know all too well most problems come from home.
So you give her your piece of pie and don't look her in the eye for the remaining of the night.
She calls you a softie and your curse her out.
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She invites you to some concert her choir group is performing at. You obviously don't go. After the pie stunt, she keeps insisting you're a softie and quite frankly it's been pissing you off.
So you tell her you have better things to do. She doesn't look particularly sad and you're not surprised.
“You don't like choir, anyway.”
Suddenly this bright smile appears on her face and you kind of know you've fucked up your nonchalant vibe, but you also kind of don't care.
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She insists on singing in front of you, though. You tell her you value your hearing and that most suburbia choirs need to pay to get performances, so you don't to want to risk it. She doesn't pay attention to what you said and puts on some song instrumental.
You recognise it as “Hey Jude” by the Beatles.
You're a little surprised. You expected some radio song but Kara always toyed with your expectations.
She has an amazing voice and quite honestly you're absolutely mesmerised. After a while, the initial awe passes and you start singing along.
You sound good combined and you carry out the song together until the end.
The last notes end and immediately after them you hear Kara's laugh. She looks at you and you can't help but note how joyful she looks.
“I can't remember the last time I felt so happy singing.”
You don't remember the last time you felt so happy, period. But you don't tell her that. You just open Youtube on your phone and start your Beatles playlist.
Kara doesn't know most of the songs. She only memorised “Hey Jude” because she wanted to sing you one of their songs after realising how many merch shirts you have of them. You blush when she tells you this and probably stay red for the rest of the night while her face inches closer to yours with every second, as she tries to read all the lyrics off your phone. You offer to switch to some song that she knows but she shuts you down every time. You try to hide your happiness at that fact and start involuntarily inching closer to her as well.
Your playlist finally ends and she starts clapping and jumping up and down at the fact that she managed to hit a particularly high note. You stare at her and realise you can't quite recall what the last song was.
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You feel cold and it has nothing to do with the wind and the night chill that has set in.
You feel so, so empty, more than usual.
You look at your feet and your mind is blank. There are some things it just can't process so you stare at you worn out shoes and trace the pattern your sole had to make so you could tie them.
The memories try to flood you again and again, but you push them back. You can't let them drown you. But even after all your efforts you still feel like you can't breathe.
At one point you realize she's next to you.
You don't want to tell her.
If you say it out loud it would mean it's true.
“You weren't at work today.”
She tells you she works only on weekends and you know that. What she doesn't know is that you needed her today and she wasn't there.
You tell her what broke you and you can see her cracking as well.
You wonder for a minute why both of you have to suffer so much. You look at your shoes and start playing with their laces.
She looks at your movements and puts her hands over yours. You freeze. She pulls you in for a hug and you don't know what to do. You feel so lost you can't even tell what
home's supposed to be like, but you guess this is the closest you'll get.
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You climb up on her roof and look at the stars together.
You're wearing her clothes and they are a bit too tight on you and the roof's tiles are sharp against your back, but you haven't been more comfortable in a while. She's been trying to make you feel better the whole night and you're grateful, so grateful. But you also know she wasted her efforts because she can do that without even trying.
A strong wind blows against you and you shiver. You continue to gaze at the stars but you're getting cold so you tell her it's about time you went back in.
She still has her eyes fixed on the sky and you can't blame her. You also don't want to go back in.
“I lost the key for the window. We're locked up here.”
“Well I would've suggested helping you find it but the window is open so that's not a concern right now.”
She gives you puppy dog eyes and you scoff.
“I'm freezing here.”
She smiles and goes back into her room. You're about to follow her in but she comes back with a blanket and wraps it around the two of you. You're a bit stiff at first but she smiles and you flick a strand of hair behind her ear while she lays her head on your shoulder. It's still cold, you're pretty sure you'll be sore in the morning from the weird position you're sitting in and you're still as afraid of heights as you were the moment you stepped on the roof. But you don't really care about any of that.
“Thanks for the blankets.”
She doesn't say anything and you know what she's thinking about.
“And I'm talking about this one and the one you brought me way back at the restaurant.”
You can feel her smile against your skin and snuggle closer. You're blushing and there is a familiar warmth forming in your chest.
“Why did you do that?”
She doesn't answer for a while.
Then you hear her sleepy voice.
“I found it!”
You've started feeling a bit tired as well so you can't quite understand what she means at first.
“Found what?”
“The key.”, she makes a pause and you don't know why your heart pounds a little faster.
“We can go back inside now.”
You hear her and don't really feel like going back.
You don't know how much longer you stay outside but you look at the sunrise together.
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A rude customer spills some drink and you kick him out.
Eleanor congratulates you on not giving him a bloody nose like the last three guys you escorted outside. She promises you a piece of pie and goes to find the mop to clean up. You help her.
Soon the mess is gone and you look around. You feel so overwhelmed by how beautiful everything seems to you so you just say:
“This place is so fucking rad”
And Kara can't help but agree with a soft smile and eyes that feel like home.