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i. the basement
It’s the summer before Jackie’s junior year, and she fills it with salt and sweat and Stephanie.
Michael’s off in California with Donna (which, gross, she doesn’t even want to think about how many germs he’s swapping there), and Eric’s locked up in his room, depressed. Fez and her have been hanging out, going to the mall and getting pretzels, maybe poking around the makeup and letting Fez practice applying it on her, but those are exceptions. Most days her routine goes like this:
She goes round to the Formans’ in the morning, slides into Hyde’s lap (or wakes her up, if she’s early), and she kisses her and kisses her and kisses her until she feels like getting a milkshake, at which point Stephanie usually indulges her and accompanies her to The Hub. Jackie buys her a burger, or they go back home to pinch sandwiches off Mrs Forman, or sometimes they go to the arcade. They make out a bit more, and it’s perfect.
She hasn’t managed to get Stephanie to come with her to the pool yet, but it’s only been a month, and she’s been working on it. Besides, the days are getting hotter, and Jackie’s hemlines have been getting higher, and she’d bet Stephanie’s resolve is about to crack.
It’s the first of August, absolutely horrifically hot, and Jackie is sprawled out across the couch, arm flung over her eyes. She should have stayed at home, where there’s air conditioning and a pool, but her plans had been to take turns between sucking on a popsicle and sucking on Stephanie’s face, and so far those options haven’t been available at her own house.
Not that her and Stephanie don’t talk, of course. Jackie chatters enough for anybody, and Stephanie has been downright cheery as of late, teasing her and provoking her into conversation. They bitch about the crappy programs on the TV, but they don’t really talk, not about them. Jackie’s sort of nervous to bring it up. Michael was always irritated at the way she used to nag him, and she’s not going to risk the same with Stephanie, not when it feels so important.
“Oi,” says Hyde as Jackie thinks this, apparently returned from her snack quest. She pokes Jackie’s leg where it’s dangling over the couch. “Leave some space for everyone else.”
Jackie moves her arm an inch, just enough to look at her.
“Get your own couch,” she says. “You poor people are so stingy.”
Hyde grins at her. She’s been doing that a lot, whenever Jackie says something appropriately scathing, always following it up with an appreciative “burn”. It makes Jackie’s insides go all sparkly.
“Shove,” she re-iterates, and then, when Jackie doesn’t move, she just sort of shrugs and sits down on top of Jackie’s legs, squashing her into the couch. Jackie kicks at her fruitlessly.
“Stephanieeeeee,” she whines, and Hyde smirks but doesn’t let up. Jackie huffs and tugs her legs out from under her, rearranging herself so she’s sitting on the couch properly. Hyde sits and props her legs up on the coffee table. The Price is Right is playing, again, and if Jackie has to watch another old lady (who can’t even reach the wheel) try and win she is going to lose it.
“This summer totally sucks,” she says bitterly, even though it’s the furthest thing from true. “There’s nothing to do.”
Hyde turns her head at the same time Jackie does, giving her a sly smile like she knows exactly what Jackie’s getting at.
“Damn, Jackie,” she says. “Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of easy?”
Jackie gives an affronted gasp, only half-offended. “I am not! You’re such a bitch!”
Hyde laughs, and chucks her candy bar on the coffee table, twisting towards her. Jackie leans in out of habit, but also because she feels like she’s been orbiting around Stephanie for a while now, falling before she even knew it was something she could do.
“Whatever,” mumbles Stephanie right before she kisses her, and Jackie can’t even be bothered to muster up a retort. It’s far too easy to just grab Stephanie’s face and draw her in, too easy to lie back against the arm of the couch and let her settle between Jackie’s legs, hand warm and steady against her waist. This is how they talk — in subtext and raised eyebrows, in the brush of arms and thighs. Jackie doesn’t think she’s being overly romantic to say that each of Stephanie’s kisses feels like a tiny I want you pressed against her skin. I want you I want you I want you. She kisses it back.
Stephanie chuckles against her neck when Jackie presses a little more eagerly into her, and Jackie delights at it. With Stephanie kissing feels like everything she ever wanted it to be, like fireworks on the fourth of July and finding the perfect earrings to match to her outfit. It’s not slow, its not gradual — it’s a rush of electricity down her spine that pools hot in her lower abdomen, a desperate want she doesn’t know how to quell. But Jackie’s not easy, and she doesn’t put out after four weeks.
Hyde doesn’t seem to mind, though. She seems content with the kissing, and her hands very rarely wander from Jackie’s face or back, keeping themselves in neutral territory. It’s nice. It makes Jackie feel safe in that way Hyde always has, even before Jackie started forcing her to be her friend. So she keeps kissing her until she pulls away.
“You’re right,” Hyde says, inches from Jackie’s face and flushed. “This summer‘s the worst.”
Jackie giggles against her neck, fingers hooked in Hyde’s belt loops. She gives them a tug.
“Whatever,” she says, and kisses her again.
ii. the el camino
Hyde knew from the second she lay eyes on it that, if she’d been a guy, the Camino would’ve been a total chick magnet.
It’s slick, it’s edgy, and overall it’s just a damn good-looking car. Guys came up to her in it, sometimes, but they always wanted to talk shop, and most of them seemed to think they knew it better than Hyde. Like they’d know what to do to keep it from stalling when shifting into second, like they’d do a better job fixing the engine up than she would. She liked to laugh in their faces, not above sacrificing her zen to make a guy feel small. Girls liked it until they learned Hyde owned it, then lost interest. But if Hyde’d been a guy — well. Babe central.
She catches Jackie sliding her palms over the vinyl seats once, when they’re driving around with nothing better to do. It’s an absent-minded action while she talks about the class she’s taking next year. Right now it’s something about how the closed-shoe rule for her science classes is going to interfere with her possible outfits.
“And what about Spring, Stephanie?” she asks, eyes wide. Her window is rolled down, and her hair is tied back with a bright ribbon. “They want me to wear boots in the Spring? Spring is for clogs, Stephanie. Clogs and sandals and little strappy shoes. It’s like they want me to be Donna.”
Contrary to first-appearances, this is actually a subject Hyde can work with.
“It’s the man,” she answers, and drums her fingers on the wheel. Floyd is playing on the radio, and her day sucks way less than usual. “High school is an institutionalised system designed to reduce your individual personality so that corporate America can keep churning out mindless slaves to capitalism.”
Jackie takes a few moments to respond, which Hyde likes. It means Jackie’s actually thinking about what she’s said.
“By not letting me wear my shoes?” she asks eventually.
“Yeah.”
Jackie hums. “I do have a lot of personality.”
Hyde laughs. “No argument here.”
Jackie strokes the seat where her hands are resting. “I think you’re right, you know. About the dress code being used against me. I mean, obviously I’m beautiful, no one’s denying that. But it’s not my fault I was blessed with perfect genes that make all the boys stare at me. Last year I wasn’t even allowed to wear a peasant dress because it showed my shoulders. I have lovely shoulders. They’re teaching girls to cover up when maybe they should be teaching boys to keep it in their pants, the pervs. It’s an enforcement of patriarchal standards.”
Jackie sniffs decisively. She looks so picture-perfect that Hyde swallows, and switches lanes to head to the lookout. “Right,” she says, dry-mouthed. Patriarchal standards. Jackie looks at her curiously.
“Stephanie? Where’re we going?”
“Lookout.”
Jackie pulls a face, slightly incredulous and also slightly pleased.
“Look,” says Hyde, glancing out at the road, “You start spouting off stuff like that, I’m gonna need to make-out with you. It’s nature.”
Jackie giggles. Her hands smooth over the seats, turquoise nails gliding over the vinyl. Hyde watches them. When she looks back at Jackie’s face there’s pink high on her cheekbones. She’s going to let it slide, but then Jackie starts giving the same treatment to the dashboard with that faraway look in her eye, and Hyde can’t help it.
“You turned on by my car, doll?” she teases, and then nearly swerves when Jackie blushes.
“Not by the car,” protests Jackie. “Although she is pretty. I was just thinking about something.”
“What’s that, then?” asks Hyde. Jackie bites on her lip.
“I like that you want to make out with me,” she says, scooting over to put her hand hesitantly on Hyde’s thigh. “And I also like watching you drive. You look sexy.”
Hyde does swerve then, just a bit. “Jesus Christ, Jackie.”
Jackie grins brightly, and slides her hand slightly higher up. Hyde swallows. She’s sure she used to be cooler than this. And when the hell did Point Place get so big? They should have reached the lookout an age ago.
Hyde keeps her gaze firmly on the road, but she can still see Jackie’s smile in the corner of her eye. If anyone’s at the lookout she thinks she might ram their car off it. Provided Jackie gets out first. Hyde definitely needs to cool it with the romance, it’s freakin’ embarrassing, but it’s not her fault Jackie’s spent her whole summer at the Forman’s. What was Hyde supposed to do, find someone else to make out with?
She pulls up to the lookout and puts the Camino into park, then quirks an eyebrow at Jackie. “So.”
Jackie rolls her eyes at her, fond. Ideally Jackie shouldn’t be feeling fond over anything Hyde does, because Hyde’s got a rep, but she’ll overlook it this once, since it’s in the pursuit of tongue action and all.
“Oh, come here,” says Jackie, exasperated, and tugs on Hyde’s t-shirt. Hyde obliges, sliding across the seat with ease, and pushes her sunglasses up onto her head. Jackie puts both her hands on her face, because she’s girly like that.
She brushes her thumbs across Hyde’s temples, face open and wonderful.
“Your hair sticks to your skin in the heat,” she whispers. “Right here.”
And then she kisses her. She slides her tongue into Hyde’s mouth and climbs into her lap, and — yeah. Like Hyde was ever going to say no to this.
iii. the movies
Jackie and her aren’t on a date, or anything. They’re just seeing a movie. And Jackie’s buying. But that’s because she has money, and Hyde doesn’t. It definitely is not a date because Forman and Fez were meant to come too. It might be a date since they didn’t actually tell them the times the film was on.
Crap, thinks Hyde as she waits for Jackie to finish up in the restroom, box of popcorn and drinks in her arms. It’s definitely a date.
Jackie has to sit at the back of the cinema for some reason, but it’s a foreign film so Hyde doesn’t really care. It’s also practically empty, so she rests her legs on the back of the chair in front of her, slouching in her seat. She usually does this anyway, but it’s more fun when no one’s bugging her about it. “Why are you watching this if you can’t understand it?”
“I like looking at it,” answers Jackie. “Plus it’s air conditioned.”
She can’t really dispute that — the dark coolness of the cinema is a big step up from Forman’s stuffy basement. Hyde eats a handful of popcorn, and then offers it to Jackie. The film’s in French, probably? It might be Spanish. Could even be Italian. There was a point where Hyde was convinced it was German. Whatever. Two people are having a love affair, one’s definitely going to die.
“She’s going to die,” says Jackie suddenly, quite loudly given that it’s a movie theatre. Hyde chokes on a bit of popcorn. “He’s going to find out about her affair, leave her, and then she’ll throw herself off a cliff, or something.”
“Is that what you were gonna do when Kelso left you the first time? Throw yourself off a cliff?”
Jackie snorts. “Please, he wishes. That’s just what happens in these foreign films.”
Hyde’s seen exactly zero foreign films, so she wouldn’t know. Well, zero if you don’t count that x-rated flick they all went to see once. She’s pretty sure that wasn’t English. Jackie’s totally making her into a square, it sucks. Maybe tonight she’ll go vandalise something to feel better.
The husband’s found out about the affair, by the looks of it, ‘cause there’s lots of crying going on and the music’s all dramatic and shit. Jackie leans her head on Hyde’s shoulder, and Hyde lets her. Jackie’s intoxicating, addictive — she hadn’t realised how much she sought her out until she had the freedom to do so, and now... well. It’s something.
“Hey, Stephanie,” stage-whispers Jackie. Hyde tilts her head to look down at her, and raises her eyebrow. The movie bounces off Jackie’s skin, a sliver of bright white on the edge of her cheek.
Jackie twists her head up, lips twitching. “Wanna make out?”
Hyde stiffens. Head-shoulder leaning is one thing, makin’ out in public is — something else. “Uh, here?”
“It’s only us,” whispers Jackie. “And, okay, maybe those two old ladies down the front. But we’re up the back, no one can see us.”
Hyde stares at her. “Is this why you made us sit here?”
Jackie removes her head from Hyde’s shoulder and shrugs, deviously innocent. “No.”
And, Christ, if Hyde wasn’t already into her... She double-checks no one’s nearby to see them, and then slides her hand up round Jackie’s neck. “You are so sneaky.”
Jackie beams at her, the way she always does when Hyde says something halfway nice about her, like Hyde’s bestowed her with the best possible compliment. “Well, I had a great teacher.”
She’s referring to their zen lessons, and god help her, Hyde finally gets why Kelso was so gaga for Jackie the last few years. Having the full flirty-Jackie effect beamed at you is bound to rot a couple of brain cells, dull the old survival instinct.
“That’s cool,” replies Hyde, and draws Jackie in.
Twenty minutes later the film ends. She couldn’t tell you how.
iv. jackie’s pool
“My parents are out of town this weekend,” announces Jackie, tramping down on the butterflies in her chest. Stephanie’s eyes flick up, bright blue behind her sunglasses, and Jackie commits to it. “I was thinking you might like to come over.”
She feels slightly less bad about the way her voice wobbles when she watches Stephanie fumble with the joint she’s holding, her fingers flicking over the lighter unsuccessfully. “Alright. Sure.”
“Cool,” says Jackie, biting on her lip to hold back a smile. Stephanie ducks her head back down, and with a rush of warmth Jackie realises she’s doing the same. She presses a kiss to her cheekbone, already planning a shopping trip in preparation.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
Hyde makes a non-committal noise, but Jackie’s pretty sure that’s to prevent the conveying of any actual emotions, so she doesn’t mind.
(“You will need new lipgloss, obviously,” says Fez, tapping purposefully on his chin. The mall is packed and they’re standing on the edge of the indoor fountain, planning out their route to get all the supplies necessary for Jackie’s date.
“Obviously,” agrees Jackie. “Something that isn’t sticky.”)
She has a whole plan for this weekend, because she wants it to be perfect. Summer is ending soon, Donna and Michael will be back, and the idyllic little bubble her and Stephanie have created is set to shatter. It’s hard enough sneaking about around Eric, Fez and the Forman’s, adding the rest of their friends and school back into the mix is a surefire way to end their alone time. Stephanie, however, seems determined to ruin Jackie’s meticulously planned romantic weekend, which is just rude.
“No,” she says, again, and Jackie huffs, throwing her arms up.
“There’s not even anybody here,” she says empathetically, and Hyde shrugs.
“Don’t care.”
Jackie narrows her eyes at her. “You’re ruining our weekend.”
Hyde rolls her eyes, and Jackie can just tell that she’s gearing up for a rant on romance or swimsuits or how pools are actually scientifically engineered to make people less-resistant to the government, and she simply cannot take that today. She huffs.
“Fine.” She turns on her heel, stalking out to her backyard. She slips her dress off as she goes, easily since she’d already changed into her bikini, and doesn’t look back until she’s lowered herself into her pool. The water’s cool, and it slicks over her skin pleasantly in that way Jackie’s always loved, like a refresh. When she looks back Stephanie is still standing at the kitchen door, face unreadable.
“That’s low,” she says eventually, and Jackie knows she’s won. Hyde’s mouth does something like she’s trying not to be impressed, but is. “Man, you are such a tease.”
Jackie beams, and watches Stephanie strip out of her shoes, socks and jeans. Her hair’s glowing golden in the midday sun, curls gone frizzy from the humidity. Jackie stares at her despite the lingering feeling of guilt — it’s the same unpleasant curdling she still gets in the girls locker room, like she knows she’s doing something she shouldn’t. But with Hyde she’s allowed to, so she does.
Hyde sends her one last, dirty look before pulling her Grateful Dead tee over her head, and Jackie suddenly feels struck dumb at the sight of her stomach, aware that she’s never seen Hyde so unclothed before, and aware that she likes it. A lot.
She blames this for the fact that she doesn’t realise Stephanie’s prepping for a cannonball until she’s soaked in water, spluttering and shrieking and hair ruined.
“Stephanie!” she cries. “Ugh, you jerk!”
Stephanie laughs, her aversion to hopping in the pool apparently dissuaded now that she’s in the water. Jackie wipes at her eyes.
“That’s me,” says Stephanie, treading water in front of her and grinning. She slicks her hair back from her face, water droplets clinging to her skin. Jackie’s tongue feels heavy in her mouth, but she splashes back at Hyde anyway, unwilling to give her the last word, and then darts away before she can do anything like dunk Jackie under the water.
Hyde laughs and grabs at her waist. It’s so easy for Jackie to hook her legs around her, to slide her palms over Stephanie’s shoulders, leaving streaks of water in their wake.
“This your plan all along, was it?” teases Hyde, soft smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. Jackie kisses it away, sinking her hands into her wet curls, and giggles at the gratifying groan she receives.
“Definitely should have led with this,” mumbles Hyde against her mouth. Her hands slide up Jackie’s spine, pulling her closer, and Jackie kisses her again. And again. And again.
v. the mall
The week before school is set to go back, Jackie drags Hyde to the mall. It’s under the guise of needing a ride, and yeah, okay, maybe Hyde didn’t fight it as much as she could have, but she was buzzed and didn’t feel like spending the afternoon with Forman’s misery. It’s dark times when Jackie’s the most fun person around to hang with.
“Here ya go,” she says, in the parking lot, and unlocks the doors for her. The mall’s packed, Point Place’s entire population apparently deciding to partake in capitalism for the day. “Have fun.”
Jackie frowns, hands stilling where she’s rearranging her bag. “You’re not coming with me?”
“No?”
“Oh.” She looks down, shoulders deflating. It makes Hyde’s stomach do something similar, and she has to grit her teeth to get through her next sentence.
“Hey, look, I’ll come pick you up, all right? Call the basement, I’ll come get you.”
Jackie smiles at her, disappointment gone, and shakes herself out. Hyde wonders why her guilt doesn’t shake off with it. “Right. No biggie! See you in a couple of hours, then.”
She darts over and kisses Hyde’s cheek, and then before Hyde knows it she’s out of the car, sauntering into the mall. Hyde watches her trajectory across the carpark. She’s not going to follow her. She’s not. Why the hell would she want to spend three hours trailing after Jackie in a mall? To hold her stuff? She’s not her boyfriend. She wouldn’t be doing that even if she was. She’s not gonna follow her.
“God dammit,” mumbles Hyde, and flicks the ignition.
“Jackie.” She reaches out to grab her arm, catching her just before the mall’s entrance. “Jesus, slow down, would ya?”
Jackie gapes at her. Then she gives a huge, beaming smile, hands coming up to her face. “Stephanie! Aww, you came after me!”
“Shut up,” says Hyde, and scratches at the back of her neck. “I wanna get paid in soft drinks.”
“You got it, baby.” Jackie slides her hand into hers. “Come on, I gotta go to Allison’s.”
Hyde lets herself be dragged to the accessories aisle, makes a couple of noises when Jackie holds up potential hair clips, like she cares what Jackie’s putting in her hair. Hyde buys herself a new record, some guy tryin’ to be the next Hendrix, and then really does think about offing herself when Jackie starts looking at freakin’ Rod Stewart. By the time they’ve eaten a couple of dodgy cheeseburgers (shoulda gone to Fatso Burger, thinks Hyde, after eating something that definitely wasn’t beef), the mall’s finally clearing out, and that’s the only reason she agrees to help Jackie pick out clothes.
Well, that and the fact that she’s coming to the conclusion that lesbianism maybe has some perks. Namely, being allowed to follow Jackie into the change rooms. She smirks, and settles back for the free show.
“What do you think?” asks Jackie, flinging back the curtain with a flourish. She strikes a pose, both hands on her hips. It’s purple, with little bits of pink frill round the edges. Hyde would hate it, but she guesses Jackie looks pretty good in it.
“Don’t you already have one of those?”
Jackie hums, fiddling with the way it sits on her. “Yeah, but the sleeves are different, and it’s not got such a pretty pattern. Since when do you pay attention to what I wear?”
Hyde opens her mouth, and then shuts it. Entrapment. Freakin’ entrapment.
“That’s so sweet,” gushes Jackie, biting her lip. She glances around the change rooms, but they’re empty. “Can you help me get this off? The zipper’s kind of stuck.”
Hyde closes her eyes behind her sunglasses: she’s hit the freakin’ jackpot.
“Sure it is,” she mutters, sarcastic, but gets up anyway. She pulls the curtain around them, shaking her head.
“What the hell kind of romance books are you reading?” she asks, pulling the dress’s zipper down easily. She slides her thumb over Jackie’s skin, right down her spine. Jackie meets her eye in the mirror, looking gloriously unashamed.
“The ones where they’re making out in dressing rooms, Stephanie, obviously.”
Hyde kisses her neck. “You’re such a dork.”
Jackie gasps. “Take that back! Stephanie, take that back!”
“Make me,” she says, and Jackie rolls her eyes, twisting in her arms.
“Oh, and you think I’m cheesy? Newsflash, Stephanie—“
Hyde kisses her to shut her up, backing her up against the mirror and swallowing any bitchy, reputation-ruining remarks she might have had before they can leave her mouth. It works pretty great, if she does say so herself.
Jackie buys the dress.