Chapter Text
It wasn’t that you fell in love easily, the opposite was actually true. You just had a lot of fuzzy feelings, fairly often, and those feelings were pretty easy to misinterpret as love. That’s how it had been with Race Higgins, back in grade six, when everyone still called him Tony and he was your first kiss in a game of spin the bottle. That’s how it had been with Romeo Cortes, when he danced with you at your first ever school dance in grade nine. That’s how it had been with Jack Kelly, who had been your first best friend, your cute neighbour and your sister’s first boyfriend.
(Well, Kath wasn’t your sister, not exactly. Her parents, Mr and Mrs Pulitzer had taken you in when your mom had passed and, when Mrs Pulitzer joined her, Katherine’s dad had become a father to you both. So, she wasn’t your sister, not by blood, but she was your family in every way that mattered.)
One thing your mother had taught you, long ago, before you’d been old enough to understand what she meant, was that there were few better ways to understand yourself than writing. She filled books with pages and pages of how she felt when she met your dad, and how she felt when he wasn’t around anymore, and how her heart soared with love for you.
So, whenever you heart felt a little too full, you let your feelings overflow onto pages. After you kissed Race, in the middle of a game of spin the bottle at your first real boy-girl party, you wrote him a letter explaining how much it meant to you. After Romeo saw you standing alone at your first Homecoming and took your hand to lead you in a sweet, short slow dance, you wrote him a letter about how good it felt to not be alone, and to have him by your side. After Katherine told you that she was dating Jack, when you felt your heart sink as you smiled and gave her a hug, you wrote him a letter about how much you wished he’d chosen you, or even seen you as an option.
The letters were only ever for your eyes, for you to understand what your heart wanted, at those moments. Race was dating Spot, your second (and ex) best friend; Romeo was gay, and the entire school knew that he’d been pining after Darcy for forever and Jack was cute and creative and kind, but Katherine was the closest person to your heart and you would never ever hurt her by dating him, even after they broke up when she left for college. The letters were all hypotheticals. They were impossible fantasies and you liked it that way.
Until the third day of your junior year, when it all came crashing down.
Race walked up to you, dressed in the same jeans and bomber jacket kind of style that he (and most of his track team friends) had been rocking since the start of high school. He made it work, but that was no secret. Everyone who had ever been in your school hallways knew that Race Higgins was cute. It was one of those things. The sun rose every morning, the moon controlled the tides, Race Higgins was cute. It was an easy and simple fact. Another easy and simple fact was that Spot, Race’s boyfriend, had stopped liking you pretty much as soon as high school had began. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t mind too terribly. You had people in your corner, like Katherine and Davey, so Spot could dislike you if he wanted to. Still, he probably wouldn’t have been too happy to see Race coming to talk to you with a serious look in his eyes, looking as though he was seeking you out.
He found you sitting outside school, with your laptop open on your lap. You were working on your English assignment as you waited for the bus.
“Hey, Y/N. Can I, uh, talked to you for a second?”
You were surprised, but you pulled out an earphone and motioned for Race to sit down next to you.
“Listen, as much as I appreciate the thought, Spot and I, like, just broke up so I don’t think that we could…”
He trailed off, looking at you expectantly.
“No offense, but what are you talking about, Race?”
He laughed, sounding a little uneasy and reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper in a vaguely familiar envelope.
“This letter is, like, really sweet and from what I can remember that kiss was pretty hot, given that we were twelve, but, I just don’t think we should date.”
Suddenly, you felt a wave of nausea wash over you. Oh, no. No, no, no, no. He could not have gotten the letter. How could he have gotten the letter? It was locked away in a box at the top of the closest in your room and there was no way he could have it. But, he did. And, if he had gotten his, that meant that… Oh, motherfucking, no.
You looked up and saw Jack, heading out of the school building and making a beeline for you. No, no, no. So, before you could think, you panicked and did the only thing that would stop Jack from talking to you. You grabbed the collar of Race’s jacket and pulled him towards you. Letting your laptop drop onto the grass below you, you screwed your eyes shut, and kissed him. After a moment, he sunk into you and you opened your eyes for a second to see Jack, in your peripheral vision, hesitating and turning back. In your head you thanked Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
You pulled away from Race and both of you were gasping a little.
“Uh, okay, that was a little better than the kiss we had when we were twelve, but, um, respectfully, what the fuck just happened?”
Race sounded as confused as you felt, and just then, the school bus pulled in.
“Shit, I-I’m so sorry about that, but, uh, I have to go. Thank you!”
You grabbed your laptop, stuffed it in your bag and ran to the bus, sinking down into the first seat you found. You glanced out of the window and saw Race, still clutching the letter tightly in his hands, looking well-kissed, with wide pupils and swollen lips and more than a little bewildered.
“Fuck,” you said under your breath.
“You can say that again, sister.”
You glanced to your right and, there, sitting next to you in all his glory, was Romeo Cortes.
“Hi,” you said feebly, with an even weaker wave.
“Hey. You okay? You kind of look like you just got rejected from the college of your dreams.”
“Ha. Something like that. I definitely have the same ‘my life is officially over’ feeling.”
He gave a low whistle and spoke softly.
“So, I, uh, got your letter.”
For the third time that day, you felt ready to chug a cup of lighter fluid. You didn’t reply.
“I’m really flattered, and Homecoming really was fun, but, um, you know I’m gay, right?”
You covered your warm face with your hands.
“I know, of course I do,” the words came out a little muffled, so you pulled your hands away and continued. “I wrote that letter ages ago. Those are the feelings of past me, not current me, I swear. I am so so sorry.”
Romeo nudged your shoulder with his and shrugged.
“Hey, it’s all good. I’m used to being irresistible.”
You let out a little helpless laugh and he grinned, kindly.
“There we go. So, you can smile! You look like you need someone to talk to. Wanna tell me about your day?”
You looked at him and the words came spilling out. You explained the letters, and Jack and your consensually ambiguous kiss with Race and the pit of helplessness you felt at the bottom of your stomach.
“Wow,” was all he said, at first. What more could he say?
“Well, first of all, homeboy kissed back, so I wouldn’t worry about the consent there. Secondly, you need to talk to your sister before her ex-boyfriend does. And then, you need to talk to him. And Race. Basically, you’ve got a lot of talking to do.”
“Can’t I just sink into a hole and die instead?”
“While that sounds like a great option, I’d be gutted if my favourite dance partner disappeared.”
He gave you a smile, and you felt a little bit better. If Romeo believed your story, maybe the others would too.
The bus pulled up to your stop and you got up to leave. Romeo was right, you needed to call Kath, as soon as you could.
As you walked from the bus stop to your house, you saw someone standing on your porch. He was wearing paint-stained jeans, a dark blue shirt, murderously hot combat boots and a badass leather jacket. Jack Kelly. Of fucking course. Shit. You turned and ran, as fast as your legs would carry you.