Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The call comes in just after 5. Her dad is busy and the other wrecker is out of the shop so he sends her out on the call. She does it because she has to, because she needs the money and no one else will give her a job. She drives really slow out of town so she can smoke at least 3 cigarettes on the way.

The car, stalled out and smoking, is a red Jeep Wrangler. She sighs as she parks the vehicle, leaving it running as she drops out of her. It’s the middle of nowhere with nothing to see except empty fields. As she approaches the vehicle, her boots echo on the asphalt. Slowly, the girl - no, woman - takes shape and Nicole inwardly cringes.

It’s hot out. The sun is bleating down on her and making her sweat already. It’s the tale end of a long summer that just won’t end. Not that Nicole had much of a summer anyway. She’s been sent away to her aunt and uncle’s to stay out of trouble because she’d been getting into so much of it. Her mother’s words.

She doesn’t bother putting out her cigarette, the embers burning as she sucks in a deep breath. Her head swarms as she closes in on the vehicle, all of the buried feelings inside of her poking at the surface. Tamping those feelings down, she blows smoke out of her nose.

It’s then and only then that the other woman becomes aware of her presence. Her face splits into a smile and it’s warm, but the smile fades quickly. It’s like all of the history between them rises to the forefront of the woman’s mind too.

Once upon a time, they were friends - close but not the best of, which was fine. Until one day they weren’t friends. Or maybe they still are friends they just aren’t talking. It’s been 6 months and Nicole doesn’t know the difference.

“Earp,” she greets, cigarette perched between her lips still.

“Nicole,” she says, tone balancing on the side of contained.

“Pop the hood,” Nicole replies.

She watches with care as Waverly opens the driver’s side door and bends over slightly, arm stretching to pull the lever. The metal of the hood clicks loose and it prompts Nicole to stop looking at her ass. It’s what she does, what she’s good at. Giving women a little bit of attention really gets her a long way.

Nicole hoists herself onto the front fender, balancing as she props the hood open. A poof of smoke spits into her face and she holds her breath. A little bit gets into her mouth and settles on her tongue. She pulls the cigarette out and holds it in one hand, waving the smoke away with her other. It fades and her vision clears, the engine still hot. She squints and looks over the engine a little closer. With a sigh, she leans back and stands tall as she stretches her arms high above her head. Her arms cool in the breeze.

“What seems to be the problem?” Waverly asks with caution.

The familiar voice must take her off guard cause she nearly loses her balance. The brunette’s eyes widen with panic as she reaches out, placing her hands against the back of Nicole’s thighs. The touch is warm through the material of her jeans, but her hands are pulled back quickly almost like it never happened in the first place.

She hops down with a loud thud. Nicole takes another drag of her cigarette before stomping it out on the shoulder of the road. They are close but not as close as they used to be.

“Leaking head gasket,” Nicole says, “I’ll have to tow it to the shop.”

With a sigh, Waverly simply nods.

🚬

When they were 13, Nicole used to stare at Waverly because she was probably the cutest thing on two legs. Not just physically attractive, but inherently beautiful as well. She was kind and thoughtful and had a great sense of humor.

It would be easy to say that Waverly Earp was her first real life girl crush. It would be easy to say that perhaps Waverly encouraged it, telling Nicole all of her secrets and urging her to do the same. It would be easy to say that although they weren’t exactly best friends, they had something special.

There was once a treehouse in the middle of nowhere that only they knew about. There, they would sit and talk. Waverly would talk about boys and Nicole would listen, never having much input on the subject. It was there that Nicole told Waverly that she thought maybe she was broken because she didn’t think boys were all that cute.

Then the treehouse burned down, tree and all.

🚬

The car ride back to the shop is silent. Almost painful, considering. Neither of them have much to say, not to each other or maybe not at all. Nicole doesn’t know. She’s beginning to think she never really knew Waverly Earp at all.

Despite recognizing the look in her eye (sadness knows sadness), Nicole does not ask. She isn’t sure that she wants to know the answer. If she’s being honest, she isn’t sure she wants to be around Waverly at all, but a job is a job is a job and beggars really can’t be choosers.

At least that’s what her dad tells her right before he also tells her that he wishes she could be better. She tunes him out when he speaks, forgetting the hurt and the anger that he pushed onto her right after her parents split. It hadn’t been much of a surprise because it had been a long time coming. They’d never had a conversation that didn’t increase in volume.

In the silence, she tries not to think about all of the things that went wrong in her life. She tries not to think about how her parents could never get along. Or how no one remembers her birthday. Or how she has to repeat her senior year all over again making her the lamest person in the entire town of Purgatory.

🚬

The shop’s best mechanic, Charlie, immediately gets to work on Waverly’s Jeep when they arrive. Nicole is glad to be outside of the wrecker, away from a girl she once had a crush on (who she had to find a way to move on from because she needed Waverly too much). She tries to stay out of her dad’s line of sight until she’s off shift and when 8 o’clock hits she’s saying goodbye, not even waiting for a response.

Her dad considers her working at Haught’s Wrecker and Repair as spending time together and she’s fine with it. The less actual interaction with him the better and this way she at least gets a $200 paycheck every Friday. She buries her hands into her pockets and starts walking home. After stopping at the gas station just out of sight of the shop for a new pack of cigarettes, she lights the last one from her old pack and tosses it into the garbage.

The soles of her boots crunch on the rocks as she steps back onto the main road. Her mom’s house is just another mile away. She should be home around dark. Not that she’s expecting dinner or anything. She’d be lucky if her mother weren’t holed up in her office working on her next book.

Lost in thought, she doesn’t even realize that the red Jeep from earlier has unfortunately pulled up beside her until she starts tohear the lyrics to a pop song and she looks over. She feels the darkness inside of her, the one that makes her lose her self control and become someone that nobody knows. Ironically, she doesn’t even miss the old her.

“Get in,” Waverly says.

Hello, friend, Nicole thinks of the darkness.

She puffs out some smoke and says, “I’m good.”

Waverly huffs, turning the radio down. She has never much known Waverly Earp to take no for an answer, but they haven’t exactly been on the best of terms so it doesn’t seem unreasonable to hope that she might take a hint. Instead, she’s left wishing that a black hole would swallow her up right this very second.

“Just go home, Earp,” Nicole says before Waverly can say anything else.

“Jesus, why won’t you just let someone be nice to you?” Waverly snaps.

Blood boiling, Nicole stops walking. Waverly slams on her brakes. The anger tinged in her voice is not in her eyes. Her eyes are pleading, a glaze over them like she’s about to cry. Nicole feels bad. That look used to make Nicole melt and give in. Now it just makes her feel stupid for feeling bad.

“Why do you care?” Nicole asks curtly.

“We’re friends,” Waverly says like it’s simple.

“Ha,” Nicole says laughing sardonically, “I don’t think we can say that anymore.”

“Nicole,” Waverly says, her voice an old warning.

It reminds her of the old times, the way Waverly used to keep her on track. But that was her old life. Before she got into fights and has car wrecks and started smoking cigarettes and got sent away for the summer and her dad stopped looking at her like she’s a person. Now she’s just a 19 year old trapped in a town where she doesn’t belong.

“You picked your boyfriend’s side,” Nicole huffs, “People move on. Grow apart. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“We broke up,” Waverly says with a shrug.

“Good to know,” Nicole mumbles.

She settles her cigarette between her parted lips again, rolling her eyes as she turns on her heels and starts walking again. A light breeze picks up and runs through her freshly cut hair, having taken the scissors to her ponytail a few days before and given herself an uneven cut. She kind of likes it. It fits her, untamable. She tries not to look back, but she hears the sound of feet on the pavement behind her before a heavy hand pulls at her shoulder.

Nicole turns quickly, staring down at somebody that she used to know through the haze of her cigarette smoke.

“What are you being so stubborn for?” Waverly huffs.

“I’ve always been stubborn,” Nicole reminds her.

A range of emotions floats over Waverly’s face. Nicole pretense not to notice as she cups the cigarette in her hand and pulls it from her mouth, tilting her chin up to blow the smoke away from Waverly’s face. From what she remembers, Waverly hates smoking. She hated it when they were kids and would find cigarette butts from Wynonna’s cigarettes and she hated when Nicole took her first one at a party, never turning back. Not even at church.

“You can’t walk home,” Waverly says.

“Do it every day,” Nicole replies, “Kinda have to since I don’t have a car anymore.”

“You just gave me a ride back to the shop, let me give you a ride home,” Waverly says.

“It was my job,” Nicole counters, “I literally get paid to do that.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Waverly says, sounding sad again.

Nicole swallows thickly before sucking on the filter of her cigarette until the thing is entirely ash. She’s afraid to look down at the brunette, afraid that her resolve will fade once again because has always and will always have a soft spot for Waverly Earp. She has a lot of memories with her. More than almost anyone else. Ironic, considering she doesn’t really have anyone anymore.

“Fine,” Nicole says, lungs feeling tired and filled to the brim with nicotine. She drops her cigarette to the ground and stomps it out. Looking Waverly directly in the eye, she realizes how close they are. She takes a step back and says, “But don’t think we owe each other any favors.”

Begrudgingly, she climbs into the passenger seat of Waverly’s Jeep. It smells clean and new, looks well taken care of considering Waverly has had it for almost 2 years. She shifts uncomfortably in the seat, gripping on to the handrail as Waverly pulls onto the road. Nicole holds her breath as the brunette drives, careless and terrifying.

For the first few minutes, they are quiet. Nicole certainly doesn’t have anything to say. Her world is mostly bitter and grey anyway. She certainly isn’t enjoying the bright and shiny pop song blasting through the speakers. However, she isn’t lucky enough for the car to remain silent.

As Waverly turns into Nicole’s neighborhood, the brunette says, “I need to tell you something.”

Nicole wants to not care, but she sounds scared. Despite their lingering disagreement, Nicole worries for Waverly. She doesn’t hate her, just doesn’t see a point anymore in getting attached to anyone. No one cares about her anyway. Right now, she’s just trying her best to make it by.

“Ok,” Nicole says slowly.

Waverly pulls into her driveway and puts the car into park, shifting uncomfortably to look at Nicole. They hold gazes briefly, but Waverly looks away first like her hands are the most interesting things in the world. Perhaps Nicole is about to get an apology.

“I think I’m gay,” Waverly says, voice soft and small.

Nicole gets a bad taste in her mouth.

“Are you kidding me?” Nicole reels despite herself. The frustration grows and expands inside of her. She really let herself believe for once second that she was going to get an apology. Nicole quickly unbuckles her seatbelt and pops the door open. She steps out, muttering a, “Great timing, Earp.”

🚬

Her mom has a late client so she makes it to her bedroom unseen. She isn’t hungry and she isn’t much up for company. All of her blood is flowing warmly through her entire body to her fingertips, guilt pressing onto her chest so hard that she can’t breathe. For a moment, Nicole thinks these are the things one feels right before they die.

But she doesn’t die, she doesn’t disappear.

The ground never swallows her up so she has to keep on existing.

Guilt taking it’s course and all.

🚬

In the blistering heat, she has no qualms wearing tank tops with big arm holes that expose a little too much skin. The lingering summer is hitting her extra hard, making her skin warm and sun kissed. To no surprise, she’s only red and not forming much of a tan. Not that she even cares what she looks like.

She doesn’t bother running a brush through her hair, just runs her fingers through it and calls it good. After tying a flannel shirt around her waist, she goes to school. The walk is boring and she dreads every second of it, knowing that she only has school to look forward to. She doesn’t have any friends there. They’ve already graduated and moved on. She will just be around people all day who she doesn’t like, who don’t like her.

When she gets to school, she sits on the back of the bench by the front entrance and lights a cigarette. She smokes it quietly, watching all of the people who used to be in grades below her now in her grade enter. They are familiar faces but they are strangers to her nonetheless.

Her cigarette is almost gone when Waverly walks by her, making eye contact. She’s the only person who has even bothered to acknowledge Nicole. The gaze hurts a little, obvious pain behind her eyes. She feels guilty again.

Waverly smiles, not quite touching her eyes. It’s a terrible realization because Nicole has always considered her a lighthouse. She’s always managed to ground Nicole when she’s felt like she’s on the verge. Even when they weren’t talking. Still, Nicole chances a smile and, as her mouth reflects it, Waverly shifts her gaze away. There’s no doubt that Waverly is even more upset at her now.

It is Nicole’s turn to suck it up. She knows that she owes Waverly an apology. It isn’t easy to tell someone something like that and she had been less than supportive. Although part of her does need to get to the bottom of why exactly Waverly felt the need to tell her such a thing.

Nicole pulls on her flannel before she goes into the building, stuffy and unwelcoming as she makes her way through the throngs of people. They don’t seem to even consider giving her the time of day, not like they had last year. Things will probably change as rumors begin to circulate. All she really has to do is smile and she always gets her way.

Seeking out Waverly is rather difficult. She tries to keep her head down until she can find her, not really wanting to give anyone else any cues to start conversation. When she finally finds her, Nicole sighs in relief that she’s alone.

Bracing herself for Waverly to tell her to go away, she holds her breath as she leans against the lockers beside the younger woman. She receives a glance but no greeting. She quirks an eyebrow and tilts her head. She deserves that.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” Nicole says, looking into brown eyes.

“Thank you,” Waverly replies evenly.

“It just kind of felt like you were trying to even the score or something,” Nicole says.

“Well, I wasn’t,” Waverly counters.

“Does anyone else know?” Nicole asks. Waverly finally holds her gaze for the briefest of moments, until she looks away with a flush creeping up her neck and kissing her cheeks. She’s embarrassed. Nicole feels for her. She remembers feeling embarrassed coming out. “Why did you tell me then?”

“Because,” Waverly says with a sigh, “I’ve been trying to work it out all this time and, I don’t know, you’re the first person I wanted to tell. It doesn’t mean anything.” .

Both of their eyes flit around the hallway like they’re scared to look at each other again. This is just a small bandaid on a gaping hole. It isn’t going to heal properly, not without them airing stuff out. Nicole isn’t even sure she wants to. She just wants to get through it and get out of this town.

“See ya around, Earp,” Nicole says.

Waverly smiles at her and it grounds her.

Chapter Text

School is everything that Nicole imagines it will be.

It is boring, uninteresting, and she cannot wait to leave the place.

There is a cute new teacher for her senior English class. She seems enthusiastic and has a great smile, but Nicole does her best to tune Miss Horony out. She’s already done this once and very much does not want to do it again.

At lunch, she sneaks outside without being noticed and chain smokes until the bell rings. She ignores the grumble in her stomach for the rest of the day and when the bell lets them out of school, she’s the first one out - no backpack, no books, no homework. She doesn’t even stop at her locker.

It’s still hot outside when she leaves the building and she peels off her flannel halfway to the shop.

When she arrives, her dad barely acknowledges her as she clocks in. She’s a little late. The walk from wchool had been more torturous in the heat than she’d expected. Part of her hopes that her dad will yell at her, but he doesn’t do anything other than fix her with a glare.

She sits on a rolling stool next to Charlie and perches a cigarette between her lips, not lighting it. He gives her a friendly smile as he leans under the hood of a Hyundai and starts fiddling with the engine. He pulls back, wiping his hands.

“How was school?” He asks.

“Shit,” she answers.

“Learn anything?” Charlie says.

Nicole laughs into the back of her throat.

“Yeah right,” she replies.

A call comes in before she can say anything else so she makes her way out to the wrecker, lighting her cigarette along the way.

🚬

She gets home after dark.

When she walks in the front door, her mom is in the kitchen. She looks a little tired, but they haven’t seen each other in a few days. Her mom has been trying to set boundaries but trust her to make her own decisions because she is an adult, even if she is having to repeat her senior year.

Her mother can be a bit overbearing sometimes, but she gives Nicole her space. It’s part of the reason that her parents divorced. Her father always said her mother gave her too much space. He even tried to blame her mom for Nicole’s “bad behavior.”

They eat dinner in silence. They barely even look at each other as they eat. Her mother doesn’t ask about school and she doesn’t volunteer any information.

As she heads up to bed, neither of them utter a word to each other.

🚬

It is not surprising that when she sits in her room, breathing her own air, reading old books about dystopian futures, she is not disturbed by her distant mother.

It is not surprising that her phone is going wild with text messages she does not care about.

It is not surprising that she stays up too late doing nothing important and dreading what her life has become.

🚬

With a mother who works from home, skipping school is quite difficult. She must leave the house on time. So she does and heads over to Rosita’s house. She is smart and pretty and could go anywhere or do anything but instead has decided to stick around this shitty town and work at Shorty’s.

Part of Nicole finds it annoying that someone would have the opportunity to leave but choose to stay. Rosita had many offers from schools but declined every single one. She was valedictorian the year before, easily and without trying, but knew her mother could afford to send her to college. Instead, she works.

Nicole knocks lightly on her bedroom window, a downstairs apartment in the one complex in town, and waits for it to open.

She climbs in through the window so Rosita’s gossipy mother doesn’t see her and blab to Nicole’s own mother. Once safely in the cool air of the bedroom, she kicks off her shoes and peels off her shirt which leaves her clad in only her bra before slipping into Rosita’s too small bed beside her. The woman groans in annoyance as Nicole shakes the bed.

“God, you’re so warm,” Rosita murmurs as she leans into Nicole.

She feels Rosita’s cold hand on her bare stomach and it makes her shiver. Absently, she arches into the touch. Her skin appreciates the cold pressed against it. She says, “Yeah, it’s cause I was outside.”

“Shut up,” Rosita says, “Go back to sleep.”

Nicole closes her eyes, finding peace in the sound of someone else’s breathing. It reminds her that she isn’t alone. Nearly everywhere she goes she feels incredibly alone. Being around Rosita, someone who cares about her, takes the sting away.

They are quiet and still, breathing evenly but not necessarily sleeping. She can feel her friend’s bare thigh against her jean covered leg, etching more and more towards her body until it slips between her own thighs. Her breath hitches, mind wandering briefly. Even when she feels Rosita place a wet kiss against her jaw and move down to her chest she can’t help thinking of all of the reasons this is still and always has been a bad idea.

“I thought we were sleeping,” Nicole murmurs.

Rosita’s hand slides against her torso and pushes at the hem of Nicole’s bra. Her breast slips out of her bra and Rosita’s lips circle her nipple. Body responding, Nicole groans into the back of her throat at the way her tongue swirls. She can’t help feeling aroused. Rosita is talented and good at sex, especially with the way she can roll her tongue with ease.

Releasing a breath, Nicole lifts her hand and pushes it against Rosita’s hip. She works her fingers into the bone until Rosita is laughing against her akin and straddling her waist. It is then and only then that Rosita lifts her chin and presses her lips to Nicole’s, tongue slipping out and licking her bottom lip.

Nicole slips her hands up Rosita’s thighs and discovers that the woman isn’t wearing any underwear. She’s already wet and when she grinds down on Nicole’s stomach her arousal lingers. Sighing, she slips her fingers between them and rubs at Rosita’s clit.

The truth is, this is not their first time. Nicole has suspected that perhaps her friend actually has feelings for her but knows it is fruitless. They have talked about it in passing, the year before when they were both seniors - before Nicole got into the accident. Her ribs ached for weeks and her knuckles were bruised but she didn’t know if it was because of her punching Champ or from gripping the steering wheel so tight.

They kiss lazily and Nicole pushes two fingers into Rosita without warning, thrusting until she screams into Nicole’s mouth and comes.

Nicole can’t help feeling like she’s disconnected, floating away from her body never to return.

🚬

She has a healthy relationship with sex.

It is the steadiest relationship she has ever had and she is certain that it is the only relationship she will ever have.

She isn’t built for relationships. Not if her understanding of them is correct. Not even her parents could make it work. Even if for a while it did work. Not because they loved each other because it doesn’t seem like they ever did, but because they both ignored there were any problems for so long.

Relationships aren’t for her. Maybe even for anyone. People aren’t meant to be monogamous, to tell one person that they love them for the rest of their lives. Especially because emotions are just chemicals in the brain. Emotions are insecurity. They are desperation to be filled or not feel alone.

Nothing makes sense.

People don’t make sense.

The only thing that makes sense is sex and culture and that society dictates what things are right and what things are wrong.

It is difficult not to know sex when it is the one thing her mother is good at. Her mother is open and honest about the subject and always has been. It is for that reason Nicole knows more than she wants to know. It is for that reason that Nicole knows sex doesn’t have to mean anything.

🚬

She knows better.

She fucks Rosita again before she goes to school.

🚬

Waverly Earp smiles at her between classes and it tethers her.

She won’t admit it, not a chance or in a million years, but it brings Nicole back to planet earth. It’s for this reason she decides not to be completely useless when she goes to class after lunch. She feels silly and hopeless as she tries to navigate out of this town.

She asks, “Do you have a piece of paper?”

Chrissy Nedley rips a sheet out of her notebook and hands it over with a huff. Nicole gives her a smile that quickly fades when she realizes the only thing she has on her is a cigarette. She sighs.

“Can I borrow a pen?” Nicole whispers.

“Come prepared, Haught,” Chrissy whisper yells back.

Everything feels like it’s back to normal. She is no longer Nicole. No longer a human person. Everyone calls her Haught and it reminds her that she is broken and she empty.

At the end of the class she balls up the paper and throws it away when she leaves.

She is just a shell of the human she used to be.

🚬

She leaves her last class early to get to work on time. She thinks that her dad actually smiles at her for the first time in months. Part of her finds it suspicious but she really doesn’t have it in her to ask. The last thing she can be bothered with is a conversation with her father.

So she slips outside and smokes on a cigarette until a call comes in. She lets it hang from her mouth as she leans back against the brick building. The time ticks by slowly. She feels like she’s drowning.

Her own brain fills itself with stories as she ignores Rosita’s texts. She doesn’t have it in her to reply. Her brain plays out scenarios of coulda, woulda, shoulda with her friend and they all end in pain and loss and disaster. She can’t afford that now considering she doesn’t have many friends to lose.

🚬

Nicole’s clocking out when that red Jeep pulls into the shop. Her brain sticks for a moment trying to register what exactly is going on, what exactly she’s seeing. She fights the concern for the woman, for what she’s going through. It isn’t easy. Nicole would know. When she resolved her own feelings about her attraction to girls she hasn’t known anyone else who had experienced it.

Of course her mother understood. It had hardly been a big deal when it came to her mother. Her father, on the other hand, had not understood. He still does not understand. He doesn’t want to understand and Nicole does not care if he does.

Without a second glance at her dad, she turns on her heel and makes her way out of the shop. Her feet carry her to the Jeep, her thoughts almost having no say in the matter. When she looks in, Waverly looks smaller and sad. It hurts to see the woman not burning bright.

“What’s wrong?” Nicole asks.

“I just,” Waverly says, voice shaking, “I need somebody to talk to.”

“Alright,” Nicole says.

She taps on the door before she rounds the Jeep and gets into the passenger seat.

🚬

Silence.

It sits between them. It is a cloak covering all of the things that they have not said and all of the things they will not say but inside of Nicole’s head there is screaming. She doesn’t know why. She is angry and she is sad and she is silent.

Her own saliva feels thick in her mouth so she takes a drink of water as Waverly Earp stares at her like there is an answer in front of her but Nicole doesn’t even know the question. It is as though she cannot speak, she cannot say that she is mad at her mom and her dad and her...Waverly. She is mad at everyone who leaves and everyone who chooses to stay.

“How did you know?” Waverly finally asks.

Nicole freezes at the question. The table is warm beneath her fingertips and the bell from the kitchen echoes with another order ready to be brought out to its new owner. She stares at Waverly like all of the anger in her bones is about to explode and leave pink mist behind.

“How did I know?” Nicole repeats, playing stupid.

Waverly does a sweep of the diner before she leans forward and whispers, “That you like girls...”

“I’m pretty sure we watched the same movie,” Nicole replies with a smirk. Waverly scoffs. It makes Nicole laugh and she realizes it’s the first time she’s laughed in months. Something settles into the pit of her stomach and she doesn’t know what it is. “I’m starving.”

She sighs in relief when their waitress places their food in front of them on the table. She looks at the burger, an exciting distraction as she thinks back to the last time she had real food. She takes a fry and shoves it into her mouth, her stomach rumbling in return.

“How did you know?” Nicole says.

Waverly sighs and stabs a leaf of lettuce with her fork. It’s hard and a little bit angry. The movement makes Nicole jump in her seat. She says, “Ever since you told me, I’ve done a lot of research on sexuality and I just started thinking that maybe it isn’t simple.”

“Yeah, but what made you think that might apply to you?” Nicole asks. She takes a big bite of her burger and savors it. She’s afraid to find out the answer.

“Well, because,” Waverly starts, shrugging, “Girls are pretty.”

Nicole smiles and says, “Girls are very pretty.”

She watches Waverly in silence for a moment and thinks that maybe the brunette is avoiding eye contact now.

“You can think girls are pretty without wanting to have sex with them, you know?” Nicole adds. Waverly blushes but doesn’t manage a reply. The blush makes Nicole think that isn’t the case. “Is there a girl?”

Waverly stays silent like she doesn’t know what else she could possibly say. Nicole can’t look away. Inside of her, it feels like a train wreck is happening inside of her. All of the parts are flying everywhere.

“Yeah, there’s a girl I like,” Waverly finally answers. Nicole grins and leans back in her seat. Waverly shifts and looks away. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You could try talking to her,” Nicole says with a laugh.

🚬

It’s late when she gets home. Later than normal. Late enough that her mom looks annoyed when she walks in the front door. They didn’t really keep talking about Waverly’s feelings about girls any more than that. It was easy, a reminder of the old times, but neither of them bring up the fight with Champ or the accident.

It leaves a bad feeling in Nicole’s stomach.

Lots of people came to see her when she was in the hospital but none of them were Waverly, a girl she thought she would love unconditionally. Perhaps the word love had been strong at the time (and it certainly feels that way now) but Waverly has been amazing in every way. She is smart and pretty and kind. Or at least she had been.

That was then.

This is now.

“Hey,” she says.

“She speaks,” her mom replies.

“Back at ya,” Nicole says.

“Hungry?” Her mom asks.

“Already ate,” Nicole answers.

She chances a smile at her mother, one that prompts her mother to look at her as though she is an alien. Perhaps she is an alien. One who does not smile and one who does not fit in. It would not be a surprise if some creature has taken over her body.

“You seem,” her mother starts but does not finish the thought.

Part of Nicole wonders what exactly her mother is thinking.

She seems what?

Almost human?

Almost like her old self?

Like she had sex?

All of those things are true but none of those things are directly related.

She can not, will not explain.

So, instead, Nicole shrugs and winks and smirks and heads up the stairs to her bedroom with the blank walls.

🚬

School is school and work is work and Waverly Earp does not speak to her again. At least not this week and on to the weekend. After avoiding Rosita all week, being forced to go to school on time instead of having anywhere else she can go, she goes by Shorty’s after work.

Rosita sneaks her beer when the Friday night crowd tumbles in behind her. As sneaky as her friend thinks she might be, Nicole is pretty sure it doesn’t go unnoticed from Shorty. He just glares and doesn’t say anything.

An older woman, definitely legal, makes her way up to the bar and places an order. While doing so, Nicole gives her a smile and a small wave that seems to make her giggle. Rosita laughs at the woman or at Nicole. She isn’t sure which. But after Rosita takes the woman’s table their drinks she pulls on Nicole’s sleeve. The redhead barely grabs her beer before she’s being dragged down the hallway to the door that leads to the alleyway.

The night air is hot and sticky on her skin. She holds her beer in one hand and takes the cigarette Rosita offers her with the other. Rosita holds up the flame to her, lighting it for her like her friend is trying to stake a claim.

“You’re not like,” Nicole starts, pulling the cigarette from her mouth and blowing smoke into the air, “Trying to, you know...”

“What?” Rosita asks, clearly confused if her furrowed brows tell Nicole anything.

“I can’t be your girlfriend,” Nicole says.

“Jesus,” Rosita huffs, “I know. Sex doesn’t make us dating.”

“So you don’t like me?” Nicole says, not looking at Rosita for fear she’ll see something different in her eyes than the words that’ll come out of her mouth.

“No,” Rosita protests lightly, kicking Nicole in the shin.

“Cause I can’t be anyone’s girlfriend,” Nicole says again, “I just don’t think I’m built for that sort of thing.”

“God, you make everything so complicated,” Rosita laughs.

“I’m just not good. You know that,” Nicole says, taking another drag.

“I think you’re really hard on yourself,” Rosita replies.

“I’m mad at you, you know,” Nicole says, “You had a chance to leave but you didn’t.”

“There will be more chances,” Rosita says.

She finishes her cigarette and Nicole watches her go back inside without another word to serve more drinks to every drunkard in town. Nicole stays outside to finish her beer and smokes another cigarette in somewhat silence. She drops the empty bottle into the trash with a thud on the way back inside.

That same woman catches her eye by the bathroom door, the line long and waiting for a turn to get into the multi stall bathroom. Nicole laughs at how women always need to pee at the same time. The line for the men’s bathroom is empty and good ole Robert Svane leaves it with a wild look in her direction.

“Hey,” the woman says, “That your girlfriend?”

“Nah,” Nicole says with a laugh, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Why not?” The woman asks, leaning seductively against the wall.

Nicole grins, using her best asset to make the dark haired woman swoon, and leans forward to whisper, “Cause I do whoever I want. Girls don’t seem to like that.”

It’s the woman’s turn for the bathroom so she leaves Nicole with a lingering smile, one that really doesn’t affect Nicole all that much. She hates the way she feels so numb, like her body goes through the motions but her brain just can’t be bothered. She’s felt empty and numb for a few months. Maybe even before everything went to total shit.

🚬

To be 18 and lived an entire life feels pretty poetic.

But it just isn’t her.

It couldn’t apply to her.

She hasn’t amounted to anything. She’s never really had a girlfriend. She’s barely had a job. She doesn’t even have a car. She only has one friend who she keeps blurring the lines with to the point that she psyched herself into thinking the other woman wants more.

But she has been happy and she has been sad and she has been destroyed by her own actions and the people she thought were supposed to love her and her own heart leading her down dark paths of loneliness and pain.

She can not trust anyone let alone herself. She doesn’t know what she wants or even what she likes. Everything that used to make her happy just now brings her pain. It is not complicated. It is simple. Everything she touches she ruins so she makes a silent vow to never make anything meaningful or lovely because whoever it is deserves better.

She is just a shell of the human she once was.

🚬

The woman from the bar begs Nicole to go home with her but she doesn’t fuck her because the woman is too drunk and that’s just not the type of person she is.

Chapter Text

At church on Sunday, she doesn’t fit in.

People talk about her more than they talk to her.

She doesn’t blame them, really. It isn’t like she bothered to try at all. In fact, during the sermon she doesn’t even really pay attention. She mostly is just questioning her own existence and watching her fingers tremble as her body craves nicotine.

It’s difficult not to notice Waverly in the front row, staring up at her father like he hung the moon. Nicole is not envious of the way Waverly’s father sits on a pedestal. She is happy that the brunette has stability in her life.

It is while Waverly’s father preaches about love and life and happiness that Nicole thinks coming out might not be so easy for her. She sits in the pew, crosses her legs and uncrosses her legs, until her mom is looking at her like she’s a deviant. That is the reputation she has, but never what her mom has called her.

Nicole blinks when she realizes that something is missing. Beside Waverly, in her sweet summer dress, the pew is empty. Her own mother isn’t even sitting beside her. It is confusing and unreal. In all of their years of coming to this church, even when she didn’t want to (even though she doesn’t want to now), she has never seen the preacher’s wife missing.

Her mom is a gossip and Nicole is sure that it they were still speaking like they used to that her mother would have thrown caution into the wind. Maybe she had and Nicole just wasn’t listening. So while Ward Earp tells them that God is love, Nicole rolls a cigarette between her fingers to calm her nerves.

🚬

During the closing prayer, she escapes to the outdoors.  It is hot and sticky but she can smoke and avoid talking to people. The daggers in her moms’ eyes pierce the back of her head but she can’t be bothered enough to care. If she were in any position to fight or argue her way out of waking up at an ungodly hour to worship a God she doesn’t even believe in then she would. But she doesn’t have much of a leg to stand on. Especially where her dad is concerned.

He notices her slipping out and, much to her surprise, he follows her.

She barely has the cigarette to her lips before he’s ripping it out of her mouth.

“What the fuck.”

It’s her voice that echoes off of the worn paint of the church building, punching her in the eardrums as her dad throws the unlit cigarette on the ground. Her gaze sharpens, challenging him in a way that she has never dared. Her jaw sets into place, muscles in her throat tight.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Her dad growls.

She doesn’t say anything. At first, she doesn’t know why. She’s never been a person who doesn’t speak up. Then she realizes it’s because she hates him. Because he blames her for things not working with her mom. Because he blames her mom for all of the mistakes she’s ever made.

When she doesn’t reply, he pushes his hands into her shoulders, hard. She steps back, catching herself from losing her balance. Rage courses through her.

He snarls, “Answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“You never talk to me,” Nicole counters, “Why bother now?”

“You’re screwing up your life,” he snaps.

He pushes her again, but this time she hits the siding of the church and it knocks the wind out of her. She takes a moment to stare him down, breathing in deep until she can do so regularly again. It isn’t easy. She lunges forward. Her arms circle his waist and she tackles him to the ground. He grunts when he hits the grass. She pushes both hands against his sternum and stands up.

They’re both panting, staring at each other, neither backing down.

Her heels dig into the ground as he stands up, fast and squirrelly like he isn’t pushing 40. She blinks wildly as he charges at her, fist closed tightly. She just digs her heels in harder as he throws his fist in her direction, landing his knuckles hard against her cheek.

She huffs and she puffs and she blows the house down, both hands finding his neck. Her face feels warm and wet, but she doesn’t know why. She looks him in the eye.

A tear rolls down her cheek and it stings.

“I hate you,” she says. She squeezes her hands softly then pushes him back, putting distance between them as she lets go. He stumbles but does not fall. He is rage and he is pain but she cannot look away. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

She sighs and steps back, looking for the cigarette he threw on the ground. She finds it, eventually. Her father’s eyes are still on her. She doesn’t look back at him, just settles the broken thing between her lips and starts walking down the road.

🚬

She walks for she doesn’t know how long. She still hasn’t lit the cigarette. There’s blood on her sleeve. Time is a concept she doesn’t know or understand. She doesn’t really want to.

She can’t think about anything other than what it looks like for her father’s fist to close in on her face. It’s like a slow motion replay that just won’t stop. The irony.

Her bones are aching, ribs screaming from the residual pain from the time she spent in the hospital. It had hurt much worse but at least she was given pain medication for it. There isn’t a single thing she can do for this pain other than press her hand to it.

It doesn’t help ease the ache.

She finds herself standing in front of the ditch her car veered into. At least it’s shaded from the trees, blocking the angry sun from burning her skin any longer. Without the heat of the sun, it’s kind of cold. She sits on the other side of the ditch, the side beneath the trees, soles of her shoes flat on the ground. She finally lights her cigarette and smokes it until it’s gone.

By the time the cigarette is just floating embers, she is not alone. The interruption is frustrating and annoying and she cannot fake being ok, cannot fake that there haven’t been tears that sting. She has never been very good at faking and she can’t muster the will to do so when Waverly gives her that sad smile.

Not daring to speak first, she looks away and stares at the grass. It is green and thriving. She is almost jealous of the grass that once upon a time almost watched her die. She stubs her cigarette out against the sole of her shoe and looks over at Waverly.

“You’re bleeding,” Waverly says just above a whisper.

“Not the first time,” Nicole replies with a small shrug.

Her voice is gravelly like she hasn’t used it in days or months or years. She feels like she’s aged so much in the last few hours. Waverly’s eyes bore into her, silently pleading with her.

“Probably don’t have a job anymore,” Nicole says instead.

“I’m sure that isn’t true,” Waverly says. Nicole laughs. It’s the only thing she can do. She can’t cry angry tears anymore. She can hardly say anything else at all. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Without protesting too much, they end up at Nicole’s house. Her mom still has not returned home from church and Nicole can only imagine the reasons why. Her brain toys with scenarios that all end in with her parents agreeing it’s time for her to go. She doesn’t know where she could go, doesn’t really have anyone else.

She’s so lost thinking about it that she almost doesn’t register Waverly’s hands cupping her face and tilting her chin upward. It confuses her for a moment and she feels her face tighten. The movement only manages to make her cheek sting.

“Wait here,” Waverly says.

She doesn’t give Nicole a change to response before she’s leaving the bedroom. She’s seating on the corner of her bed and it occurs to her that Waverly being here doesn’t feel right. The other woman has so much going on, she doesn’t need to worry about Nicole. After all, they aren’t even friends anymore.

Waverly returns quickly and tilts her chin upwards again. She lets her eyes close, reveling in the feeling of being cared for. She doesn’t even think anyone was so gentle with her after the accident.

“It might sting,” Waverly warns.

It does. Nicole cringes a little. The bleeding has stopped so the clean up is easier. Waverly’s fingers flutter against her skin, but the touch is quickly gone.

Nicole swallows and says, “Uh, thanks.”

“Are you ok?” Waverly finally asks.

Nicole shrugs. After a moment of silence, Waverly sits beside her. Their thighs are touching, elbows lightly knocking together. Her gaze flits to Waverly’s tan skin, mouth going dry at her thigh being exposed. With a shake of her head, she snaps her eyes away.

“I didn’t think about how difficult it might be for you to come out,” Nicole says. She lifts her gaze to Waverly’s face and notices that there’s some sort of embarrassment there. She drops her hand to Waverly’s knee but the brunette recoils so she retracts her hand just as quickly. She mutters, “Sorry.”

“No,” Waverly says, “You just took me off guard.”

“Will your parents not be supportive?” Nicole asks.

“I honestly don’t know,” Waverly admits. She looks shaky as she tucks a strains of hair behind her ear. It makes Nicole feel bad. That was never a fear she had with her own parents. Maybe she should have been more scared.

“It’ll be ok,” Nicole says. The words have barely left her mouth when the door opens downstairs and her mom announces her arrival. Waverly jumps at the intrusion. Nicole barely gives her a smile before she’s on her feet.

“I gotta go,” Waverly says right before bolting out of the door.

She hears Waverly and her mom briefly exchange words before the front door closes again. She’s pretty sure she can hear her mom climbing the steps. A wave of nervousness courses through her and she is scared and she is alone and she doesn’t want to exist anymore.

🚬

Her mom says her name slow and low. She looks visibly shaken but not angry. It comes to her slowly that her mom isn’t angry with her. They don’t exchange many words but the ones they do exchange hold meaning, stability, concern. The fear inside of her blossoms and blossoms and blossoms like she is a daylily. Being 18 is scary, especially since threats loom over her.

🚬

Her mom doesn’t say anything when she doesn’t go to school the next morning. She cannot face ruthless teenagers who already think she is a disaster. Surely everyone is aware of the altercation with her father at the church. Half of the town was there. The half that talks.

Just after noon, there is a knock on her bedroom door. It is soft and warm like whoever is on the other side doesn’t want to invade her privacy but absolutely needs to. She hasn’t bothered with socks or shoes as she balances on the edge of being a child and being an adult, braving herself for the worst possible outcome.

When she opens the door, her mom has a worried look in her eyes as she hugs her own shoulders. Nicole falters, still waiting on the anger to come. She receives a sad smile, for now.

“Sheriff Nedley is at the door,” her mom says, “He needs to talk to you.”

Nicole freezes for a brief moment. After nodding slowly, she turns to grab a pair of socks from her dresser and puts on her shoes. If she’s being carted off to the station, that’s the sort of thing she’ll need - socks and shoes.

She follows her mother downstairs with caution. He has a hard look on his face as he stands patiently in the entryway. She has seen it before. She was in the hospital, a pair of broken ribs that made it difficult to breathe.

“Afternoon, Miss Haught,” he greets, kinder than she expects.

“Sheriff,” she says softly, tone painted in a fear she wants to bury.

“I’m here to collect a statement,” he tells her.

“A statement?” She asks, confused.

Her mom is missing. It’s odd, being an adult and having to deal with things on her own but still being a child and just wanting her mommy. It’s a really badass thing.

“There was a complaint filed about the altercation at the church,” Nedley explains.

“Was it my dad?” Nicole asks, voice getting smaller and smaller.

“No,” Nedley replies, “Julian Clanton. Says I should talk to you.”

“Oh,” she breathes.

“Nasty bruise you have there,” he points out. It is leading. Her reflection looked angry when she saw herself in the mirror. It’s the main reason she couldn’t muster the energy to leave her room until now. She nods like an idiot. “Look, I’m not here to get you in trouble. I just...I want to hear your side of the story.”

“Just a dad being a dad,” she says instead of going into detail.

“Do you want to press charges?” Nedley asks her.

She is stunned into silence. Truthfully, she had not imagined living in a world that she would not catch the blame, the fallout, for something like this. It is her fault. Everything is her fault. The weight on her shoulders says so.

She shakes her head slowly and says, “No.”

🚬

A few hours later she gets a call from her dad asking if she’s coming in to work tomorrow.

🚬

At the shop, her father does not glare at her.

He doesn’t talk to her either but it feels like progress. She is not scared of him, that much she knows, but she is scared of the power he holds over her. Without him, she doesn’t have a job and without a job she cannot live with her mom and without living with her mom she will be living...somewhere else. Or maybe nowhere else.

So she attempts a smile as he looks at her from across the room, his artistic prose painted on her face.

When Charlie pulls her under the hood of a car and teaches her a thing or two more about fixing cars, a call comes in. He tells her to stay with a calm, kind tone and he takes the call himself. She is shocked and confused. Charlie just claps her on the back and makes her change a spark plug.

🚬

When she gets home, her mom is in the living room. The house is quiet. Her mom rarely watches television or listens to music. She has an affinity for books and talking and sex.

When Nicole was 12, her mom told her everything she would ever need to know about sex.

When Nicole was 14, her mom told her everything she would ever need to know about sex with girls.

It is fitting now that she doesn’t know what to say to her mother. They’ve exhausted most subjects. The safe ones anyway. They never talk about their sexual experiences. It seems too messy. But Nicole has gotten cynical as she’s aged and she feels compelled to break down.

She needs her mom.

“Mom,” she says softly.

Her mom holds up a finger. Nicole counts to 15 before her mom closes her book and sets it on the coffee table. She turns on the couch to peer at Nicole over the back of it. Her shoulders feel heavy, the weight of the world pressing down on them. With exhaustion nipping at her, she drops down onto the couch beside her mom.

“I don’t want to grow up,” Nicole finally says, tired and lonely.

“I know,” her mom says, voice sweet as honey, “Being an adult is...complicated.”

“Am I broken?” Nicole asks.

Her mom hums beside her. She feels a warm palm on her thigh in search of her hand, fingers threading together. Nicole slouches, giving her a better angle to rest her head on her mom’s shoulder.

“No one is broken,” her mom says in that fun therapist voice she has, “You are just human like the rest of us.”

“I don’t think I believe in love,” Nicole admits, “I’m just not good at it.”

“How can you know you’re not good at something that you’ve never tried before?” Her mom asks, a slight tease in her voice.

Nicole chuckles quietly. She says, “Who would love a thing like me?”

“It’s easy to love you,” her mom says.

“How would you know?” Nicole says, eyebrow quirking inquisitively, “Know of some secret admirers I don’t know about?”

“I love you,” her mom says, “And I’ve seen you at your very worst.”

“That’s true,” Nicole says, silently admitting defeat. She thinks of Rosita and kindness and flowers in a field so tall she can get lost in them. If only she could love someone. It is scary to give someone all that power. She sighs with her entire body, bones creaking like she is way beyond her years. She says, “I’m exhausted.”

She stands up but her mom doesn’t let go of her hand.

“Try to be a little less lonely,” her mom says.

“I’ll try,” Nicole replies.

Her mom smiles then, a hint of pride on her mouth.

🚬

She thinks and thinks and thinks about how she can’t figure out love for herself but the least she can do is help someone else figure it out.

At school, she finds Waverly and smiles. It feels like she doesn’t have any control over the way her mouth works. She feels stupid and she feels alive and she feels like maybe she isn’t such a terrible person when Waverly looks at her.

“You’re healing nicely,” Waverly says,

Nicole lifts her hand to her face, pressing her fingers against the bruise. She isn’t even thinking about it until there’s a tiny little prick of pain against her cheek. Her smiles falters but only for a moment.

“Dad did me a favor,” Nicole says, shrugging as she leans her shoulder against the lockers, “Kinda look like a badass now.”

Waverly laughs from her gut. She says, “Kinda not. You look like an idiot.”

“Good,” Nicole says, grumbling for show, “Living up to my reputation then.”

Waverly shakes head, smiling as she shuts her locker. She leans against it, less than an arm’s length away from Nicole. Waverly kicks her foot, heel tapping on the linoleum. Nicole’s gaze follows the sound and their feet are almost touching. She swallows and takes a small, hopefully unnoticeable, step back. Her gut twists and turns and she remembers that she is terrible and terribly unloveable.

“How are you?” Waverly asks, voice low and soft, “Are you ok?”

Nicole brushes her off and says, “Did you talk to her?”

Waverly’s cheeks redden and for a fleeting second a younger Nicole feels her heart soar.

“No,” Waverly says, tucking her hair behind her ear while still holding her books to her chest like a shield, “I don’t know how to, you know...”

Waverly bobs her head around like she’s willing Nicole to fill in the blanks but she can’t think straight.

She sighs and adds, “I don’t know how to talk to girls.”

“You talk to me,” Nicole points out, cheeky and maybe a bit flirtatious.

“Yeah but, you know,” Waverly counters.

Know what?

That it doesn’t mean anything?

“Do you know how many girls want to talk to me but are too scared?” Nicole baits.

“Your ego is too big,” Waverly says, chuckling.

Nicole shrugs, but doesn’t disagree.

Truth be told, it isn’t a fight she has in her to have. Not with Waverly or anyone else. But she’s fairly certain the world would be a lot better if a black hole just swallowed her up.

She says, “They’re better off anyway. That’s why I’ve decided I’m gonna help you.”

“What does that mean?” Waverly says, brows furrowing.

Saved by the bell.

“Catch ya later, Earp,” Nicole says, turning on her heel and putting as much distance between them as possible.

Chapter Text

The thing about going to school that she hates the most is that she’s having to redo everything she’s already done once.

It isn’t hard.

She just couldn’t care enough to do it a second time.

She doesn’t bother with notes or listening or sometimes even showing up.

As long as she goes to work, she’s still floating.

Better than drowning.

🚬

She wakes up with a start, Rosita’s heel slamming into her shin and making her bones ache. Huffing, she rolls onto her stomach and pushes her hand beneath the pillow. She inhales deeply. It smells like...sweat and oak. She gags.

“Gross,” she huffs.

Sitting up, she rubs at her face. Her hands are rough but at least the cut on her cheek has closed. It’s a small scab now. She checks the time on her phone and sighs at the time, still before lunch. After stretching, she puts her shoes on and climbs back out of the window. She smokes a cigarette on her way to school.

It is still hot outside and she is sweating by the time she gets there. She’s really going to have to do something about this no car situation. Although, even with the paychecks her dad has been cutting her she doesn’t think she could even get anything decent. She probably only has like $750 saved up.

She thinks she’s managed to sneak into her English class unnoticed but Miss Horony asks her to stay when the bell rings.

The rest of the class clears out quickly, rushing off to eat lunch or whatever they do with their free hour. Nicole just wishes she could go outside and grab a cigarette. She bounces her knee and leans forward to lean against the desktop.

Looking up at Miss Horony, she takes in the vibrant colors of her dress. It’s a silky, pink with a deep purple lining. The color block feature of her dress is distracting and the material of it looks inviting. When she smiles, her brilliant white teeth light up the room.

“Miss Haught,” she starts slowly, approaching with caution like Nicole is a wild animal, “Do you want to be here?”

“Uh,” Nicole starts. The question throws her off and she leans back in her seat, tilting her chin upward to look at Miss Horony. She is confused and uncertain. Is there a correct answer her? Surely, the patience in this woman will run out. She swallows and finally looks away. She says, “Not really.”

“I looked at your file and your attendance has not been very good at all. I know that you’re repeating your senior year, but it doesn’t seem like you’re trying at all,” Miss Horony says. Nicole lifts her gaze to her teacher’s and stares at her mouth, watching her lips move as she breathes and carefully pieces her next words together. “If you want to get a high school diploma then you will have to do better. Have you considered other options?”

“Like what?” Nicole asks, gaze tightening.

“Like getting a G.E.D.,” Miss Horony explains, “If you don’t want to work on your attendance than I suggest that’s something you’ll want to consider.”

Nicole stares at Miss Horony, her entire life in the balance.

🚬

When she was a kid, she would imagine she was a super hero. She never pinned down what her superpower would be but it was fun to imagine. She would laugh and laugh, but she knew happiness.

But now all she has is deciding what to do now that will shape the rest of her life.

It is not easy.

It is a commitment and it is fear.

🚬

At work, Nicole spends her time asking Charlie questions about cars and adulthood and life. He doesn’t laugh and he doesn’t judge her. He is nice and that’s what matters. She likes Charlie. She likes that he’s nice to her.

“You’re alright, kid,” he tells her.

“You’re barely older than me,” she says with a laugh.

“But you think I’m wise,” Charlie counters.

She chews the inside of her cheek, pondering his statement. He is not necessarily wrong, but Nicole isn’t sure that she knows much. Especially after Miss Horony called her out after 3 weeks of school regarding her ability to perform. If she doesn’t care about it, she can’t pretend. She just doesn’t have it in her. She does enough to skate by, to keep from getting into more trouble with her parents. It is wild to be 18 and still need their help so much.

“Maybe,” she finally says. He grins a welcoming grin, one that makes her feel like maybe she isn’t the worst person on planet earth. For a moment, she thinks of Waverly Earp and how she was always nice. Until she wasn’t. “Or maybe I just let you think what you want to think.”

“Come on, Haught,” he says, tapping her foot with the toe of his shoe, “Admit it. You think I’m cool.”

“You’re alright,” Nicole says, “For a guy.”

“You wound me,” he feigns, holding his hand over his heart.

She laughs and she forgets that the world hates her. It is not easy to convince herself of that, if only for a moment. She knows it is her own doing, that she is the one who punched Champ Hardy and put herself on the outside, the one who made the choice to crash and burn and watch the flames rise. She kind of enjoyed the hurt then and when her ribs ache now she feels alive.

She stops laughing at him and stares off, mind a broken record skipping and starting and turning, turning, turning endlessly.

She mutters, “But the pain is kinda nice, right?”

“What’s that?” He asks, the air thick and his eyes a reflection of concern.

“Nothing,” she recovers quickly.

“You don’t have to grow up so fast,” Charlie tells her, “You can be young and dumb for a little bit longer.”

“Wow,” she says dramatically.

She shoves at his shoulder and, for once, she wishes that someone would just pick her.

🚬

She thinks about all of the curveballs.

She thinks about the fight that rocked her friendships, the thing that almost killed her, the night that took away her opportunities.

Before it all went downhill, she had a plan.

But now, none of that matters.

She just needs to survive.

🚬

Sleeping isn’t easy. She is tossing and turning and sweating so much that the sheets stick to her skin. Her body is so warm that she has had to shed layer after layer and is practically naked, only wearing a pair of underwear now.

Her mind keeps replaying the accident.

That ditch.

It was dark and it was cold, but her blood had been warm.

🚬

She gives up the idea of sleep at an ungodly hour, before the sun has even risen.

There are pros and cons, her options weighing heavily on her. Her ribs ache, but she’s all healed. Her hair has grown back in the place where she hit her head, covering the dent in her cranium quite well. It’s almost as though nothing had ever happened.

But it did.

And Nicole still feels it.

She still feels the phantom pain on her skin when the weather shifts. With the temperature dropping, there’s a sting against her skull that echoes and echoes with stories of what almost was. It makes her want to cry, the hollowness throbbing behind her eyes.

She doesn’t know what she wants anymore, but she doesn’t want this.

Every day seems like too much. She wakes up and goes to a place where no one even looks at her, then goes to work for a man who barely looks at her, and does it all over again. She needs an escape, a change, a way out.

Everything feels like a dead end and there isn’t any hope for her.

🚬

The decision gets weighed.

Finish high school and get her diploma.

Take the G.E.D. test and end her misery.

She decides.

🚬

Smoke follows her as she walks to school. The concrete and loose rocks crunch beneath her feet and the sun shines bright but it isn’t as cold. It’s been cooler all week and now that the weekend is sliding in, the heat is finally deciding to let up. Just when she doesn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn for 2 whole days.

Just when she thinks she has it figured out.

She gets to school right before the bell.

She doesn’t feel as angry being in this place after deciding to leave it. Of course she has to stay in school to appease her parents until she can take the G.E.D., but if that’s what it takes to keep them off of her back then she thinks she can make it happen. She will do whatever it takes. She knows her consequences.

After her accident and being sent to her aunt and uncle’s for the summer, her parents told her she could come back under two conditions. She went to school and work, and she stayed out of trouble. So far, she has stayed out of trouble and gone to work at least. They’ve told her as long as she does that, she can stay with her mom. Her mom seemed pretty resolute when they’d told Nicole of the ground rules, like she didn’t entirely agree, but she didn’t say otherwise.

Class feels trivial. She isn’t learning anything new, doesn’t have books or paper to take notes, and she doesn’t really pay close attention. It’s boring and there isn’t much she can distract herself with. Maybe she’ll bring a notebook and start drawing again. That is something she used to enjoy.

In English, she listens a little more than usual.

They’re supposed to be halfway through a book, Fahrenheit 451, by now. She doesn’t even have the book, let alone read any of it. She doesn’t really want to bother with it, but she at least needs to try a little bit. The way Miss Horony talks about it makes it seem pretty interesting, throwing in little tidbits here and there regarding the time in which it was written. She might go home and raid her mom’s library. Not that she has many reading options more than books on sex and sexuality.

Everyone else seems to be taking notes. She sits awkwardly, but listens anyway. Miss Horony looks at her every now and then, smiling in a nice and genuine way that makes her feel like the teacher is glad she came to class today. Part of her is curious as to why this woman who has never even seen her before this year is taking so much interest in her. She’s afraid to get into it, but she has an idea the reason she might be.

The bell for lunch rings and everyone else in the classroom disperses. She gets up from her seat, but instead of following her classmates out of the room, she makes her way towards the front of the class. Miss Horony doesn’t notice her right away, so she leans against a desk in the front room and watches the candid woman.

She’s wearing a light blue pant suit today, legs long and sort of distracting. Nicole swallows thickly, really appreciating the way she chooses her outfits with such great care. The assets she has plus the accessories she tacks on definitely makes her sight in any room. Surely when she talks, people really listen.

“Oh, Miss Haught,” she says, lips shining as she notices Nicole, “Thrilling to see you today. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s...” Nicole trails off, considering her words carefully.

She wouldn’t say she’s very good at words or talking or even thinking these days. It makes approaching conversations difficult. Maybe it’s the fight she’s lost, the energy to combat. Especially after what happened with her dad a few days ago. Her bruise is yellowish now, fading so excruciatingly slow that she wonders if it’s going to damage her beautiful face. The one thing she thinks she has going for her.

“Have you given some thought to our conversation?” Miss Horony asks, leaning back against the edge of her desk.

“Some,” Nicole says slow, sheepishly dropping her gaze to her feet, “I tried to google and things got a little confusing.”

“Have you decided?” Miss Horony says, “Believe me, I know it’s a big decision. You should take your time, not rush into anything.”

“I, um, I have a bit of a problem,” Nicole admits.

She pulls her eyes up slowly, counting the distance between them. They’re probably 3 feet apart, the air between them light and cheerful. It’s weird. Not many people are cheerful around her anymore. It makes her feel a little nervous, chest fluttering with something she can’t quite determine.

“What’s that?” Miss Horony says, voice low and inquisitive.

“I can’t just drop out and take the G.E.D.,” Nicole tells her, sighing, “My parents said I have to come to school.”

“You would have to take night classes,” Miss Horony says, “At least for a few weeks.”

“I have to work,” Nicole says, shaking her head, “There isn’t, like, any way around it?”

“If you take the test unprepared, you’re just wasting your money,” Miss Horony replies.

Nicole’s frustration grows. It’s all just a vicious cycle designed to keep her trapped in this god forsaken town when all she wants to do is leave it. Being around people who don’t know her, don’t understand her; is hard. She can’t fit in around these people. They won’t ever like her. She can’t even like herself.

“This sucks,” Nicole says, words rough against her throat.

She stands up, annoyed and ready to give up. As she turns on her heel, she feels a hand wrap around her elbow and keep her from charging out of the room. Looking back at Miss Horony, her eyes search the woman’s for some reason why she would stop her so delicately. They don’t even really know each other. They’ve had two conversations now and they’ve both gone to shit.

“Don’t leave,” Miss Horony says, “Sit back down.”

“Why? Why do you even care?” Nicole says, voice a little shaky.

“I know what it’s like to feel stuck,” the woman replies.

“And?” Nicole asks, “Am I just your charity case or something?”

“Fine,” Miss Horony says, smirk toying on her lips, “Do it your own way, Miss Haught. You’re only making it more difficult for yourself.”

“And how would you know?” Nicole says.

“I was a kid once too,” she says.

“A kid,” Nicole echoes, groaning loudly.

She’s tired of people telling her she’s a kid, or dumb, or too young to know anything. It may be true, but it’s a lot to handle on her own. She’s trying to learn to let others back in, including her own mom. It isn’t easy. How is she supposed to ever succeed when everyone just thinks of her as damaged?

“Being eighteen isn’t easy for anyone,” Miss Horony continues, “You’re forced to make all of these decisions that shape the rest of your life without much or maybe even any knowledge of the world. I’m just trying to help. Take it or leave it, Nicole.”

Hearing her first name out of someone else’s mouth catches her off guard. Not many people address her lately, let alone by her first name. Just a handful of people. Her mom. Charlie. Waverly. She feels like she’s having an out of body experience, like her life isn’t actually her own.

“I want to get out of here,” Nicole finally says, “Move on with my life. I’ll do anything.”

“I’ll find out when the next test is,” Miss Horony replies, “Can you meet me here an hour before school until then?”

“Uh,” Nicole says, lifting her hand and scratching the back of her neck, “Yeah. I’ll meet you.”

There’s a huge weight slowly lifting off of her shoulders. Miss Horony’s hand slides down to her wrist and suddenly her warm palm is gone. Nicole looks at her hands, poignant and relaxed. She swallows before looking at her face again, seeing an easy smile there.

Nicole can’t help smiling back.

She feels hopeful.

🚬

Her body aches for a cigarette. It’s the longest she’s gone without one in months. She even wakes up in the middle of the night and smokes one while hanging halfway out of her bedroom window.

Her mind sticks on the teacher helping her so readily. She even looks back at her over her shoulder as she leaves the classroom. She thinks she sees the woman blushing. It makes her feel warm, slightly more confident.

Everything inside of her feels like it’s lighting up again.

She feels new, hopeful.

Maybe, just maybe she can take the reigns on her life.

She is in control.

🚬

“Can we talk?” Waverly asks, voice echoing in the hallway.

Little does Nicole know, that question serves as a really big wrench in her plans.

Chapter Text

Cigarette in hand, she leans back against the bench and looks over at Waverly. They aren’t the only ones outside in the fall air, but they’re the only ones in front of the building rather than the outdoor courtyard. The brunette looks like she’s on the verge of tears but holding it together by a thread.

Finally, Nicole gives her a small, encouraging smile and says, “So, you wanted to talk...?”

“I’m hopeless,” Waverly whines as she settles onto the bench beside Nicole’s feet. Her shoulders slump and she buries her face into her hands. Nicole actually feels bad for her.

“What’s going on?” Nicole asks. She takes a very long drag from her cigarette. Finally, the nicotine flows through her veins and kisses her crave. She can’t help it, a sigh of complete and total satisfaction falling out of her mouth. She would feel embarrassed if Waverly didn’t look like she was having a meltdown.

“Girls,” Waverly says, like it explains everything.

Nicole nods slowly, waiting for her to go into further detail. Waverly doesn’t. She just scrubs at her face with the heel of her hand and groans much louder than Nicole is expecting.

“Oh, baby gay,” Nicole mutters patronizingly, perching the cigarette between her lips again, “What happened?”

“I need your help,” Waverly announces, finally pulling her hands away from her face. Her voice booms against the concrete, ricocheting against the metal siding sporadically on the rundown building of the town’s school. The town isn’t very big, but they certainly don’t put money into the future of the town either. Nicole nods, inhaling deeply on her cigarette. “Turns out, no girl wants to date a girl who’s never dated a girl before.”

“What?” Nicole says, chuckling. She stops when she sees Waverly’s pleading look. She nearly chokes on her cigarette, coughing with her lungs filled by nicotine and spit. Finally, she recovers and balks. “That’s stupid, Earp.”

“Is it?” Waverly asks, voice wavering.

Breathing in the last bit of her cigarette, she holds her breath for a moment before she blows it out. She hops off of the bench and stabs the cigarette out in the concrete. She leaves it there, but Waverly bends over to pick it up with a scowl. Nicole shoves her hands into her pocket, fingertips brushing over the rest of the pack.

“Of course it is,” Nicole replies, “I’m with inexperienced girls all of the time. How do you think they get experience?”

“Because you’re a sex addict,” Waverly plainly states.

“Har-har, very funny,” Nicole says evenly, “You’re still coming to me for help.”

“Touché,” Waverly says. She sighs, shoulders dropping in defeat. The brunette tucks her bottom lip between her teeth and worries away at it, eyes glazed and focused on...nothing. Nicole follows the trail to figure it out. Suddenly, Waverly perks up. “Be my girlfriend.”

Gawking, Nicole can’t help scoffing and laughing at the same time. She finds herself choking again. Not only has her first and only real crush now come out to her, but she’s asking her to be girlfriend. Now that she’s over the idea of such silly things?

The irony.

“Oh no,” Nicole says, waving her hands around in protest, “You really don’t want that.”

“You said that you’re with inexperienced girls all of the time,” Waverly says.

“But that’s different than dating!” Nicole says a tad bit too loud, “I would be a terrible girlfriend!”

“Why do you do that?” Waverly asks, “You’ve always done that.”

“What?” Nicole says, brows furrowing.

“You’re just so mean to yourself,” Waverly says.

“Trust me, Earp. You don’t want to be associated with me,” Nicole replies. Waverly sighs, defeated. Guilt floods through Nicole at first, then it hits her like a ton of bricks. She doesn’t know why she never considered. “Wait. Am I the girl you like?”

“I’m sorry, Nicole,” Waverly says, gaze drifting away. Nicole doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. For a brief moment, her heart had been soaring into her throat. “Coming out to you was stupid.”

“It isn’t stupid,” Nicole says, “Being your authentic self is never stupid.”

“Let me ask you a question,” Waverly says. Nicole stares at her, blinking slowly like she’s afraid to breathe. If she just stops breathing, then she’ll stop existing. Perfect. Despite herself, she nods. “When are you going to be your authentic self?”

“Everyone already knows I’m a lesbian,” Nicole says, laughing like she doesn’t have a choice.

Maybe she doesn’t.

Maybe the question cuts too deep.

She knows that isn’t what Waverly means but she just can’t get into it.

The bell rings and switch flips inside of her.

She just needs to do one thing right.

Then maybe it’ll all fall back into place.

Waverly gets up to head back into the school but Nicole stops her with a hand pressed against her bicep.

She says, “Alright, Earp. I’ll do it.”

Waverly’s smile makes her feel alive.

🚬

Work is boring to say the least.

When she gets home she looks through her mom’s library but she doesn’t find the book.

She takes a chance on a phone number she used to have saved in her phone, texting it and asking to borrow the book.

🚬

Waking up at 5:30 is no easy feat. She doesn’t sleep well as it is. The fact that she has to wake up even earlier makes her feel even more exhausted. The walk to school feels long. She only lives about a mile from the high school but it feels like it takes forever to get there.

She went through a little bit of extra effort in getting ready. A selection of a nice sweater ends up being a terrible choice. Although it’s cooler out, she’s still incredibly hot by the time she gets there. She had sprayed a layer of perfume on but she’s pretty sure it’s already long gone.

She arrives with a few minutes to spare to smoke a cigarette. She even brought two notebooks. One for notes and one for doodling. She’s at least going to pay attention while Miss Horony is giving her a one on one session. It’s the least she could do for someone being so unnecessarily kind to her.

Miss Horony walks by her with a smile and a warm hello before inviting her inside. She follows quietly, sitting in a desk at the front of the classroom. It’s then that she realizes she forgot a pen, but the teacher quickly offers her one to keep.

They spend the next hour going over the core subjects, evaluating what Nicole knows and what she needs to know to be prepared for the G.E.D. test. She takes notes and answers questions and pays attention. It makes her feel like she isn’t entirely stupid.

It’s nice not to be stupid.

🚬

At just after 8, she’s wandering the halls and looking for Waverly.

She finds her at her locker, getting her books for her class. Nicole leans against the locker and offers her a big grin. It feels easy to smile. Surprisingly, considering everyone who hates her is there. No one seems to pay attention her anyway.

“Morning, girlfriend,” Nicole greets.

“Jesus,” Waverly says, smiling kindly, “Don’t make it weird.”

“I don’t know how to be anybody’s girlfriend,” Nicole replies. She feels slightly offended. This wasn’t her idea. If anything, she fought hard against it. She really doesn’t understand why Waverly would even want to be fake girlfriends. Especially if all she’s going to do is scrutinize her. “This was your idea.”

“Just be normal,” Waverly replies.

Shaking her head lightly, Nicole clutches her two notebooks tightly in her grasp. It’s pretty comical the way Waverly is telling her to be normal when she hardly knows what’s going on. She doesn’t know the first thing about relationships or love or any of that jazz.

“So, what are you expecting here?” Nicole finally asks.

“Just be a good girlfriend and walk me to class,” Waverly says with a smirk.

Outside of Waverly’s home room, she hands over the book and thanks her for being so sweet.

🚬

At lunch, she learns that Waverly is a really good actress.

🚬

Her dad doesn’t look at her when she walks into the shop. It hurts her feelings more than she wants it to. Maybe it’s because she’s a little late. He does not look angry. Just defeated.

She gives Charlie a small wave, wishing she had something in her life that wasn’t a mess.

“What’s up?” Charlie asks, chuckling, as she walks into work.

She clocks in and shrugs like everything is the same amount of depressing as always. It kind of is, but it feels a little spicier. Despite her attempt at being as good of an actress as Waverly, she fails. Grinning at Charlie so big that her mouth hurts.

“What’s gotten into you?” He says, nudging her with his elbow.

She leans dramatically with the nudge and shrugs, not really wanting to get too deep into anything. What could she say anyway? She’s going behind her parents’ backs and taking her G.E.D.? She also has a fake girlfriend?

Things are really looking up, she thinks quite sarcastically.

“Nothing,” Nicole insists as she lifts her hands up.

Still grinning, Charlie’s eyebrows furrow as he studies her. It makes her feel weird. Like her sweater was a bad choice. Which, it’s still really hot out so maybe it was. She drops onto a rolling stool, using her feet to drag her closer to the car he’s working on.

Tugging on the front of her shirt, she lets some air beneath it but it doesn’t feel like enough. She lifts the bottom of her shirt, not really looking up at what’s going on in front of her. The day has been really long and she’s starting to feel it in her bones. Maybe she’ll get some sleep tonight.

Her stomach growls and she realizes she hasn’t eaten anything all day.

“Do you have any snacks?” She asks, lifting her eyes.

She notices that he’s looking at her weirdly, eyes intensely locked on her. She shivers under it, pushing her stool back slightly and putting a little more distance between them. Although he’s nice to her, she doesn’t really like this sort of leering he’s doing.

Thankfully, a call comes in.

🚬

When her shift ends, she heads home. She’s still hungry and, thankfully, her mom has food going when she walks in the front door. Her mom is a good cook, not that she’s done a lot of it since her parents split. Nicole doesn’t blame her. Until recently, she usually wasn’t home for dinner anyway.

“Nicole,” her mom calls out, “You hungry?”

She makes her way into the kitchen, boots loud on the wood floor, and breathes out, “Starving.”

“Help then,” her mom says, giving her a cheeky look.

Things feel better between them. It had been rocky for a bit, mostly because her dad had been coming at them both. The pressure caused tension between them, mostly because Nicole felt like she didn’t belong. Her mom had grown more and more frustrated with her, frustrated with their lack of communication. They had always been quite close.

Even now, she doesn’t know their boundaries anymore. She doesn’t know what is too much in regards to teasing like they used to, to talking like they used to. It’s hard trying to figure out how to navigate the waters with someone she relies on so much.

After she’s started helping her mom, she realizes she’s making salmon with white rice and lemon. It smells delicious. Her mouth is already watering. That could be because she’s been hungry for the last few hours.

The food is finished cooking and they sit down at the table for the first time in awhile. She finds herself practically scarfing down the food, barely even tasting it. Quickly, she makes a mental note to try getting better about eating throughout the day.

Once she finishes eating, she gets up from the table and starts washing her used dishes. After that, she cleans the dishes used to cook and, by the time she’s done with those, her mom brings her plate over. She feels her mom hip bump her and laugh lightly. Things haven’t felt this lighthearted in awhile.

With the dishes all finished, she turns and leans back against the counter. She eyes her mom warily, not really sure where to even start. So much has happened today that she feels like she’s going crazy. From meeting Miss Horony early at school, to pretending to date Waverly, to Charlie obviously checking her out.

She decides to just ask the first thing that comes to mind, saying, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” her mom says, stopping in her tracks.

“What makes a relationship work?” Nicole asks.

Her mom’s face lights up. It makes her squirm a little bit, wondering what in the world she’s even doing in this thing with Waverly. All they’re trying to do is get the attention of a girl Waverly has a crush on. Nicole is only a pawn. Does that mean she’s just supposed to do whatever Waverly tells her?

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Her mom asks, teasing her with a poke to her side.

“It’s nothing serious,” Nicole finds herself insisting, “I just realized I don’t know the first thing about dating.”

“Does anyone?” Her mom counters. She doesn’t know the answer to that. She’s starting to think she doesn’t really know the answer to anything. “It’s just about supporting your partner, listening to them, and hoping it’ll all work out.”

“Why didn’t it work out with you and dad?” Nicole asks.

“We both love you. We just couldn’t agree on how to be there for you,” her mom says with a sigh, “We were raised differently. We have different core values. We wanted the same things, we just wanted to execute them differently.”

It makes her feel terrible. Her gaze drops to the floor, to her shoes, and she wonders if everyone would just be better off without her. The whole day suddenly making her feel more exhausted as each second passes.

“I’m sorry I ruined your marriage,” Nicole replies.

“You didn’t,” her mom says, pressing a hand against her bicep, “You can’t put the weight of the world on your shoulders. These things happen. Do you know how many clients come in here and they realize that no matter how hard they try to make it work, they just can’t? It’s hard to give someone your heart, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it to try.”

“Thanks, Mom;” Nicole says, “I’m gonna...go to bed. I’m tired.”

She doesn’t look back.

She climbs the stairs quickly and, in the confines of her room, undresses. She leaves her dirty clothes scattered on the floor. A resemblance of everything in her head.

Before she puts her phone on the charger, she decides to send her fake girlfriend a text goodnight.

🚬

Goodnight

Sweet dreams, Nicole

🚬

She sleeps easier.

She still wakes up in the middle of the night craving a cigarette.

She pops open her window and the warm night air floats in, surrounding her with warmth that her skin doesn’t want.

It feels clammy.

The air conditioner even kicks on.

In the stillness of the night, her mind drifts to things she tries to tell herself isn’t true. She is angry. She is sad. She’s pretending that everything is ok. Although she’s beginning to hope that eventually that will be true. All she has to do is show up, pay attention, and make things easier for herself.

At 2am she gets a text from Rosita asking if she’s coming over in the morning. She doesn’t answer. Instead, she thinks of getting to see Miss Horony first thing in the morning. In her vibrant colors. She debates what color she might wear tomorrow. Perhaps yellow? She thinks of how the second person she gets to see will be Waverly. With her vibrant smile. She debates if she will make the step to tell everyone that Nicole is her girlfriend. Perhaps her heart will flutter in her chest when Waverly does.

With a sheen of sweat on her skin, she takes a shower before crawling back into bed and letting herself sleep just a little bit longer.

🚬

When she rises for the day, she tells herself that it is all fake.

🚬

Eight months ago she was at a party.

Dua Lipa blasted through the speakers and she watched the first girl who ever meant anything to her dance. She looked carefree, happy, smiling. It looked so easy to be her, so simple.

Nicole has always enjoyed her company. The way she would speak with such passion, even when she was young. The way her mouth curved upward so warm and comforting. The way she never hesitated to grab anyone by the hand and pull them into her circle.

She was sweet and kind.

Her beauty was clear as day, even when she lounged in the sunlight. Especially then. The way her skin became sun kissed and her hair caught in the wind. It was an effortless beauty.

But the most magnificent thing about her was how smart she was. It was like she could see deep into the world. Almost as though she held the secret to life.

Nicole would have done anything then to protect her, to keep her smiling and carefree.

That’s why when she walked in on the girl’s boyfriend with his tongue in some other girl’s mouth Nicole had flown into a rage. She had pushed down so hard that she could feel his tendons swelling beneath her fingers. He barely had any fight in him. He had been weak, all talk and all show. He always had been. A showman at best and a liar at worst.

The rage consumed her then and it still lives in her now.

🚬

She would do so many things for a woman who is kind to her.

Chapter Text

Miss Horony wears white.

Nicole finds herself thinking that she looks like an angel. She floats by in a comfortable dress that flows past her knees. Her hair is in a sweet French braid and she looks delicate, like a blooming flower.

She smells like flowers. Not roses. Something more springtime. Like dandelions or sunflowers. Nicole isn’t sure. She doesn’t know much about flowers.

The scent follows her, taking over Nicole’s brain as she falls in line behind the woman. When they enter the classroom, door left propped open, Nicole realizes her mouth is dry. She absently licks her lips, letting her gaze trail over the woman’s sleek frame and silently appreciates her curves.

“You look nice,” she hears herself say.

“Thank you,” Miss Horony replies, voice soft and sweet like honey. The lilt in her tone has Nicole blushing. She feels kind of silly. Almost like, for the briefest of moments, she believes the woman dressed up for her. “The temperature is supposed to drop tonight so I wanted that summertime feeling one more time.”

“Makes sense,” Nicole says, dreams shattered.

She looks down at her own attire and realizes she’s wearing quite the opposite of what she had on the day before. Now it’s a t-shirt with very short sleeves. Yesterday almost killed her with the heat. Between walking to school then to work then home. She felt disgusting by the time she got home. The lingering summer heat is always the worst.

Miss Horony clears her throat, leaning back on the corner of her desk so casually that when Nicole lifts her gaze she’s back to thinking that the woman is doing this to her on purpose. She looks enticing and warm and determined. Nicole isn’t sitting in the desk so when their eyes lock, it almost feels like a challenge.

Heart thumping in her chest, she leans her weight against the desktop beside her and tries to keep her composure. The woman is hot. She has to know it, if the way she’s always so calm and collected tells Nicole anything. She’s always known confidence is sexy, although most women around this town don’t have much. She can count on one hand the number of women who appear confident.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Miss Horony says, breaking Nicole out of her trance.

She slips on the desk, the piece of furniture squealing back and scraping against the tile. She manages to catch herself with her hands, stilling herself and the piece of furniture. With a sheepish grin, she slips into the seat and looks up at the teacher.

Her brown eyes are warm, smile is genuine, and her laugh brings peace.

🚬

Her notebook is filled with scribbles she can’t quite decipher because she’s too busy watching Miss Horony’s mouth move.

🚬

Waverly wears lavender.

She finds herself thinking that Waverly looks like the stars in the sky, burning bright with an edge to them that gives hope. She doesn’t walk, she glides with purpose and poise like she will never run out of energy. Her hair is in curls, tussled and teased like she’s been dragging her hands through it all morning. She looks fierce, like she could command a room with just one look.

Hopefully she will take mercy on this day, let Nicole continue to live in her delightful agony.

It barely registers that this is her girlfriend she’s looking at from across the hallway.

She quickly chastises herself as her feet carry her across the worn floor, dirty from the trail of feet padding against it. This is not her girlfriend. Not really. It is a woman who she once thought she loved. A woman who likes someone else.

It’s all there, laid out on paper.

All’s fair in love and war.

As she gets close enough, she feels like she’s been punched in the chest by Waverly’s overwhelming perfume.

Everything inside of Nicole screams for a little bit of peace and understanding.

But, alas, she made an agreement.

So she rubs her hands together in her final steps and promptly lifts them to cover Waverly’s eyes. The brunette gasps, surprise making her step back into Nicole. Hard. Her hands falter and their limbs tangle, fingers getting caught as she balances all of her weight on her heel to keep upright.

“Jesus, Nicole,” Waverly hisses, “What are you doing?”

Their fingers linger, wrapped up together like a pathway made of honey and gold. Everything courses through her, fingertips tingling as the blood rushes to them. Words escape her, brain completely shutting down when she realizes they are somehow holding on tightly to one another.

“I thought,” Nicole starts, voice sounding airy and not at all like her own, “It might be cute...?”

“Oh,” Waverly hums. The brunette’s hand twitches against Nicole’s back. When she pulls away, her fingers scratch with the movement and make Nicole shiver. If she notices, she doesn’t bring attention to it. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just a little on edge.” 

Their fingers disentangle and they find themselves worlds apart once again.

It feels weird to watch on, to be around a person she once told everything to. It suddenly hits her that they are practically strangers now. Funny how things can change so easily over just a year.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Nicole finally says.

“It’s ok,” Waverly says. She closes her locker as she turns to face Nicole. She gives a smile but all it manages to do is give Nicole cause for concern. It doesn’t quite touch her eyes like normal. “Listen, I was thinking we should get together tomorrow for a bit.”

“I actually have to work all day,” Nicole says.

“We’re having a last minute cheer practice at lunch,” Waverly says with a sigh.

Nicole senses the distress and places a light hand on Waverly’s forearm.

She says, “Hey, we’ll figure it out, ok?”

Waverly nods.

🚬

When she gets to work, Charlie’s buried so deep under the hood of an old Mustang that she sneaks right by him. Her dad greets her from his office with a nod, glasses up on his nose. Her bruise has entirely faded by now, almost no reminder that there was even a scuffle between them.

Instead of lingering inside of the shop, she heads outside to smoke a cigarette. She’s tried to cut back on smoking so she can at least try to make things work at school in the mean time, but the cravings have only been more intense.

She leans against the building, holding the cigarette between her fingers. She digs her phone out of her pocket and starts looking through it. As a distraction, she texts Rosita and tells her that she’ll come by the bar after work. They haven’t seen each other or talked much on the past few days. Not that she really has anything she feels she needs to tell Rosita.

Work is slow.

Probably because there’s a game in the next town over that most of the residents have gone to. She hadn’t realized that cheerleaders practiced on game days until Waverly informed her they had a practice over lunch. Although she wouldn’t say it, she’s a little bummed she didn’t get to talk to Waverly over lunch. They’ve kind of started to see each other over the meal time for at least a few minutes over the last few days.

After a few minutes of scrolling through her phone, she gives up thinking there’s anything interesting on it. Instead, she lights another cigarette and decides to crack open the book Waverly gave her. She’s been carrying it and her two notebooks around. It’s been rather inconvenient. Before the weekend is over, she’ll have to see if she can find a bag.

She gets through a chapter and is a few pages into the next one when she hears boots dragging on the concrete. After marking her page, she looks up and sees Charlie grinning as he sits down beside her. He groans as he slides down, sitting so close to her their arms rub together.

“You snuck in without a hello,” Charlie says, a playful whine to his voice.

“Tired,” she replies with a shrug.

“Long day?” He asks.

His voice sounds softer, almost disturbingly so.

There’s a weight on her shoulder and she glances over at him, feigning a smile.

She says, “Long week, really.”

“Why so long?” He asks, tilting his head down to get a better look at her.

She sighs heavily. It surprises her how easily he asks questions, how easily he takes interest in whatever she has going on. She doesn’t really tell him much, but he never gives up asking her. It’s kind of nice having someone seem to care about her. Especially when they don’t have to.

“Just a lot going on,” Nicole answers, “Gotta wake up super early so I can get to school on time.”

“I could give you a ride,” he offers.

She chuckles lightly. She doesn’t know why he’s even bothering. They don’t really know each other all that well. There’s a weird feeling against her calf through her jeans and she looks down to see the back of his hand is sweeping there. Her heart beats really fast, so fast that it feels like it’s hitting her ribcage. It makes her ribs hurt and she holds her breath.

“Uh,” she starts, word catching and elongating like her brain is a skipping record. She moves her knees closer together, tilting her leg away from him. It’s a weird feeling, being on the receiving end of attention from a man. It hasn’t happened to her in so long, not since she was 14 and the men were just boys. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Let me give you my number in case you change your mind,” he suggests. Despite her disinterest, she hands her phone over anyway. Before she has a chance to take the device back, she hears his phone chime in his pocket. A lump forms in her throat, frustration pushing through her. He hands it back over and says, “There.”

“Cool, thanks,” she says. She takes it back and shoves it into her pocket. Her nerves are vibrating beneath her skin and she really doesn’t like it. He stands up slowly and smiles at her. Giving him a wave back, she says, “Later.”

“Later,” he echoes.

As he walks away, he gives her a once over.

🚬

She never goes to Shorty’s after work and she goes straight home.

🚬

So much is happening all at once that it’s overwhelming.

She keeps thinking about the way that Miss Horony had looked so deep into her eyes that she felt like her soul was exposed.

She keeps thinking about Waverly’s hand against her back and keeping her steady.

She keeps thinking about Charlie’s hand brushing against her leg and sending all of the air in her lungs dropping straight to the pit of her stomach.

It feels never ending. She is tortured and she is scared. Especially when her phone goes off at 8am. Not because her alarm but because of a string of text messages that she doesn’t want. With a sigh, she ignores them as she gets out of bed and takes a shower.

When she gets downstairs, her mom is in the kitchen. She feels nervous as she pours herself a cup of coffee. Before it’s even filled her phone is going off again. Her mom raises an eyebrow as she looks at her and Nicole just shrugs, taking a sip of the black coffee. It’s bitter and hot, but she’ll take the distraction.

“Can you do me a favor?” Nicole finally asks. Her mom puts her phone down rather dramatically, tilting her head slightly as she listens intently. Moving across the kitchen, Nicole sits in the seat beside her mom and cradles the mug of coffee. “Could you maybe give me a ride to work?”

Her mom immediately narrows her gaze, clearly suspicious. She doesn’t really seem out off by the request, but more surprised by it. Finally, her mom says, “Why today?”

“It’s supposed to be cold,” Nicole lies with a shrug.

Her mom sees right through it, she’s sure of it, but gives her the ride to work anyway.

🚬

I think we need to talk

About what?

Come by when I get off work?

Ok.

🚬

Waverly arrives just before 8. She is grateful for that considering all of the time that she’s spent at the shop has been rather uncomfortable. Thankfully a few calls came in that managed to offer a reprieve from the flirtatious looks and further unwanted attention.

After hopping into the passenger side of the Jeep, she exhales the biggest sigh of her entire life. Relief courses through her veins at a rapid pace, giving her a moment to finally breathe. She hasn’t even had an opportunity to even acknowledge the brunette. A glance in the side view mirror just brings the panic back to the forefront of her mind.

“Can we go somewhere?” Nicole pushes out, voice sounding rushed.

“Where?” Waverly asks, calmly and inquisitively.

“I don’t care,” Nicole says, voice rising, “Just get me out of here.”

Waverly doesn’t hesitate to pull out into traffic almost not even looking both ways. Nicole holds her breath as she reaches for the seatbelt and clicks it into place. Once the shop is out of view, she manages to breathe again.

“Are you ok?” Waverly asks.

Pushing out a breath, Nicole glances over at her. She feels so bad for being so weird. If this shows her anything it’s that she has some explaining she has to do. It’s scary to tell someone else things. Especially something like this.

“Yeah,” she mutters, “Sorry. Thanks for coming to get me.”

Waverly nods but keeps looking at the road like she’s being patient, like she’s waiting for Nicole to speak. It isn’t something she wants to explain, but then her phone chimes in her pocket and her heart starts beating so fast that she really just wants to cry. In truth, the next time he touches her she just wants to punch him or something; but she’s trying to be good.

She looks down at her hands and says, “Charlie’s just been really weird the last couple of days.”

“How?” Waverly asks, voice sharp.

“Kinda flirty, I guess,” Nicole answers with a shrug.

“Tell him you have a girlfriend,” Waverly replies. Her words sound clipped, kind of like she’s angry or something. Nicole looks up at her with a sharp gaze, but Waverly keeps her eyes trained on the road. As if she can feel Nicole’s eyes on her she says, “I mean, doesn’t he know you’re a lesbian?”

“You know guys don’t really accept that as an answer,” Nicole replies with a huff.

It isn’t that simple. Since she came out, she’s found herself coming out to the same people nearly every conversation. Even if it’s obvious she’s into women, even if she’s seen by people making out with another girl, she’s had her sexuality questioned. It’s the lay of the land. She’s used to it by now. She almost feels like she has a map to navigate with by now. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Nicole says, “You do realize that if it looks like we’re dating that means you have to come out to everyone, right? Is that something you’re ready to do?”

Waverly groans from her seat, like she doesn’t exactly know how to respond.

“There will be other girls, Earp,” Nicole says.

“It isn’t about the girl,” Waverly replies. There’s a silence that falls over them. Nicole doesn’t really know what she’s supposed to say to that. She just wants Waverly to know that once she comes out, she’ll be coming out every day for the rest of her life. “It’s about making a statement. And also a little bit about the girl.”

“Well, I hope whatever you want to come out of this works,” Nicole says.

She looks up and sees that they’re in her driveway. Her mom’s car isn’t here and the house looks pretty dark. It’s out there and she isn’t entirely sure that Waverly is understanding the gravity of the situation.

The truth is that she has a reputation that proceeds her. She’s pretty familiar with being the straight girl’s experiment and she doesn’t mind. For the most part. Usually it keeps her out of getting her heart broken again. There was that one time that her heart got broken and her entire life fell apart in one night, but she hasn’t disclosed half of that to anyone.

It wouldn’t really do any good to talk about anyway. It isn’t like it will change anything. After all, she’s moved on. Here she is willingly stepping into a fake relationship to help get the girl. And the girl isn’t even for her.

She’s really taking one for the team here.

She glances at Waverly and sees the glow from the street light behind her profile. She looks like an eclipse, the moon in front of the rays of the sun. It takes Nicole’s breath away and for just a brief moment she might be ok with that.

Might.

Time ticks away and Waverly moves. In turn Nicole is blinded by the street lamp and turns her gaze away. At least she can breathe again.

With a thick swallow, she thinks about how if they’re going forward with this then they need to talk.

“If you want to come in, we can figure this all out,” Nicole says.

“Yeah, ok,” Waverly agrees.

Nicole pops open the door before Waverly can turn off the car. As she walks towards her front door, she wonders where her mom is and when she’ll come home. She doesn’t think she’s ready to explain why Waverly is coming around again.

She wouldn’t even know where to start.

Chapter Text

When she was a freshman, she came out to everyone.

It wasn’t necessarily a surprise. At least she didn’t think so. No one acted too shocked by the revelation.

Her mom had smiled and said ok. Her dad had huffed and puffed and blown the house down, but after his mild tantrum he came back in and built the house all over again. He never mentioned it. Never asked about girls (or boys, for that matter), and maybe it was better that way.

Her friends hadn’t been too put off.

She had been pretty close with a few people who decided that they could straighten her out and that was the end of that. Who needed friends like those anyway? It was an adjustment to make and it wasn’t always easy.

But she’ll keep making it through.

🚬

“So, what do you want out of this fake relationship?” Nicole asks.

She’s staring at Waverly, watching her try to get comfortable on Nicole’s bed. She doesn’t seem like she can figure out a comfortable spot. There’s a flicker of hope in her chest that Waverly’s nerves are floating away under her gaze. That would be something.

After reminding herself that it’s impossible, Nicole turns her desk chair backward and sits on it. She drapes her arms on the backrest, leaning lightly against it as she entwines her fingers. Waverly finally gets settled, a pink blush creeping up her neck.

She smiles shyly and says, “A real relationship.”

Despite herself, Nicole grins.

It falters and she feels stupid.

There are moments that she allows herself to forget this isn’t real, that her only chance at a relationship with the girl she used to like is a fake one.

“Right,” she mutters.

There’s silence again as she drops her gaze to the floor and fixates her eyes on nothing. The carpet is worn slightly in certain areas like she has a habit of pacing or something. Maybe it’s from when she used to sit on the floor and play on her Xbox, back before she sold it for gas and cigarette and alcohol money. Part of her misses being a child, misses the lack of responsibility and getting to just exist.

Existing kind of sucks now.

“What do you want from me?” Waverly finally asks.

Nicole sighs, slowly looking at the brunette. She seems to just be curious, no judgement resting in her eyes. There’s a split second where she thinks her heart skips a beat under the curious gaze she receives. Nicole’s mouth feels dry so she swallows. She almost hasn’t thought about it so the truth sits on the tip of her tongue.

Her face feels hot so she looks away, shaking her head softly as she says, “I just want you to be happy.” 

“Nicole,” Waverly hums.

The silence feels scary.

It’s wanton and settles into the pit of her stomach.

She feels nauseous as Waverly’s voice echoes in her head.

“I don’t really need anything from anyone, ok?” Nicole says, “I just need to do this. To redeem myself.”

Waverly sighs, defeated yet unquestioning. Better that way. The last thing Nicole wants to do is explain herself, not to anyone at all. All she wants is to leave this town on a high note so she can come back and no one will remember her as the piece of shit she is. For her mom’s sake.

Waverly opens and closes her mouth a few times like she’s overwhelmed with questions. 

Finally, she says, “So, how does this work?”

“You’re the one with the relationship experience,” Nicole smirks, gesturing towards her.

“How do you feel about PDA?” Waverly asks.

With an even bigger smirk, she replies, “I’m pretty comfortable with the public.”

“We just have to look like we like each other,” Waverly continues, “No more of this Earp stuff.”

“Then what should I call you?” Nicole says.

“Something romantic,” Waverly says, voice strong and certain.

“You’ve got it, baby,” Nicole counters.

Waverly sighs, shoulders slumping. She says, “How can you make that sound dirty?”

“It’s my god-given talent,” Nicole says.

“Whatever,” Waverly says with the hint of a smile, “Just, please please please, have your shit together.”

“What’s that mean?” Nicole asks, slightly offended as she watches Waverly stand from the edge of her bed.

“Don’t cheat on me,” Waverly replies.

Scoffing, Nicole pulls her hand to her heart, and says, “I would never.”

“Deal?” Waverly asks, tone slightly accusatory.

Nicole laughs for a moment.

Waverly extends her hand.

They shake on it.

Nicole says, “Deal.”

🚬

At church, she doesn’t quite know the rules.

Are they acting like a couple in front of the town, in front of their parents, or are they just saving it for the school crowd?

The internal dilemma draws her outside where she stands behind the church and smokes cigarettes for the rest of the sermon. 

🚬

They exchange a few text messages throughout the day but the time between Waverly’s replies are quite long. The sparse communication is confusing. Perhaps tomorrow she will mention a credibility in their story rooted in an effort made.

Maybe it’s her attempt at trying to force things.

She isn’t entirely sure.

With that thought, she reminds herself that Waverly is not her girlfriend. She reminds herself that Waverly’s end goal is to make some other girl want to be her girlfriend. And Nicole is fine with that. She’d probably screw it all up eventually anyway.

That’s her habit - screwing up everything good in her life.

🚬

The classroom smells like cigarettes and honey. She knows which scent belongs to her. She distracts herself from her hurt feelings with Miss Horony’s sweet face. Her tone when she speaks has a flirtatious lilt to it and Nicole simply drinks it in. Flirting with beautiful women certainly is a good way to cure a sting.

🚬

The hallway is littered with bodies, blocking her path to Waverly’s locker. When she moves, they move. It makes her feel invisible. It’s something she should be used to by now. Before Waverly started dating Champ, she had been kind of popular. At least being known for being friends with Waverly. All of that started to fade.

With a sigh, she starts wondering if there’s even anything about her that anyone likes.

By the time she makes it to Waverly’s locker, she’s in dire need of a cigarette. Her nerves are fraying apart. So she gives the brunette a simple morning greeting and and tells her that she’s going outside.

It’s like pulling teeth to get fresh air, but when she finally makes it to the great outdoors she pulls the pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and immediately lights one. With a deep inhale, her nerves begin to settle down.

People pass her by without a second glance. At least she thinks so. When she looks up from her spot on the bench, she catches a few wayward looks from some girls as they enter the school building. She grins back but that’s quickly squashed when she sees Waverly approaching her.

She thinks about Miss Horony’s smile at 7am, beckoning her into a room where it’s just the two of them.

“Is something bothering you?” Waverly asks, dropping down onto the bench beside her.

“No,” Nicole says so quickly that even she doesn’t believe it.

From beside her, Waverly crosses her arms and drapes one knee over the other. It bounces, bringing Nicole’s exhaustion to the forefront of her mind. The only day she really gets to relax anymore is Sunday and she spent most of yesterday stressing about what the boundaries between them are.

She finishes her cigarette and drops the butt to the ground. There’s still an unspoken frustration on Waverly’s end but she has no choice but to ignore it. She stands up and stretches with arms high above her head. Balancing on the tip of her toes is easy and she hears a crack from one of her joints, but she isn’t entirely sure which one.

Finally, she smiles and extends her hand towards Waverly, saying, “Ready to make your debut?”

Waverly slips her hand into Nicole’s and she notes how small it feels in her grasp.

🚬

She finds herself on the receiving end of a few funny looks, but at least Waverly doesn’t seem so annoyed anymore.

🚬

The bell rings out signaling that Miss Horony’s class is over. For some reason, she’s grateful to be free from the woman’s torture for the day. Still, she lingers until the rest of her classmates are gone just so she can get one last look at someone with a thousand-watt smile. Her heart even soars when she manages to be on the receiving end of one before she completely exits the room.

She’s still on her high as she steps into the somewhat busy hallway.

However, that high is quickly stomped when someone jumps out at her. She jumps, gasping, nearly launching herself into a heart attack. It takes a few slow blinks to realize that it’s Waverly giving her a scare. She fixes her face with a scowl as the brunette erupted into giggles, fierce and echoing againat the walls.

“You seem to be in a much better mood,” Nicole comments with a huff.

“Learning always cheers me up,” Waverly says, rather excited.

“Nerd,” Nicole mutters.

“Hey!” Waverly exclaims.

“Sorry,” Nicole replies, smiling sheepishly.

“I suppose you’re forgiven,” Waverly says, voice a playful hum. They are still crowding the door to Miss Horony’s room but the hallway is clearing fairly rapidly. She can’t think straight anyway, not when she’s staring at Waverly’s gleeful smile and heart clutching gaze. “Join me for lunch?”

“I was gonna go outside for a smoke,” Nicole says, voice testing on a whine.

“You need to eat,” Waverly argues.

“But but,” Nicole stammers.

She feels Waverly’s hand on her wrist and it cuts off her thought process. Her fingers are warm and Nicole feels that warmth radiating throughout her body, pressing against her skin like a warm blanket. It renders her useless and she finds herself nodding in agreement.

In the lunch room, Waverly puts her hand on Nicole’s thigh under the table and it makes her world spin.

🚬

Her phone vibrates in her pocket.

It’s a text from her dad telling her that she’s getting Mondays off from now on.

She sighs in relief.

🚬

The upside of not having to work is that she finds a reprieve from Charlie.

She’s halfway through Fahrenheit 451 by the time she goes to bed.

🚬

The following morning Miss Horony informs her that she can take the G.E.D. test in just four weeks time.

🚬

Her head spins as she sits next to Waverly during lunch. She feels a little bit drunk, on the verge of it at least. For someone who feels things so distantly, who keeps others at arms length, she’s feeling too much. Part of her even leans into it. Leans into the feeling of Waverly’s fingers slipping between her own, webs between them brushing together and fitting easily.

Like a glove.

She feels slightly uncomfortable with Waverly’s friends despite the fact that a few of them used to be her friends. Maybe it’s her fault. She got more cynical, more jaded. She changed and not in the good way. She can take the blame for it. 

So far, however, either Waverly’s friends are oblivious or they aren’t even acknowledging this hand holding, attached to the hip behavior they’re participating in.

It all feels pretty unreal as Waverly laughs at something Chrissy Nedley says from across the table. Maybe that’s the issue, that all of the couple like PDA they’re participating in is under the table. With a sigh, she lets go of Waverly’s hand. The laughter from the brunette’s mouth dies pretty quickly after that.

Tuning the conversation out, Nicole leans her elbows on the table and folds her hands together. She feels out of place, even when Waverly’s hand easily settles against her knee like they’ve been together for months. The woman is brave considering this isn’t even real.

After a few minutes, Nicole lifts her chin slightly to look around the room. There’s a table not too far where a taller girl with tanned skin is looking at her, smiling joyously when their gazes connect. She’s new this year. They still haven’t actually met, but the girl waves anyway. She just does a head tilt in response, not even cracking a smile.

“Hey,” Nicole says quietly, tapping Waverly’s thigh to get her attention, “I’m gonna step outside before lunch ends.”

Waverly nods in understanding and she takes it as her permission to be excused. It’s still warm enough outside that she doesn’t need a jacket, but it is definitely starting to get colder. She’ll probably need a jacket soon. She’s halfway through her cigarette when the door creaks open.

Although she’s expecting Waverly, she’s pleasantly surprised to see Miss Horony coming outside. 

At first, she tries to look away, but then the woman’s heels announce her approach. With her mouth dry, Nicole watches her hips moving slowly and expertly. She exhales, smoke floating in the air around them.

She grins and says, “Hey, Miss Horony.”

“You’re really not supposed to be smoking on school grounds,” the woman replies, a cheeky smile playing on her lips.

Nicole shrugs and lets the woman pry the cigarette from her hand. Instead of stomping it out, Miss Horony brings it to her lips and perches it between them. She takes a long drag from it before handing it back over. Nicole, staring in shock, barely has the brain capacity to wrap her head around everything that’s happening. After a moment, she swallows thickly and looks down at her cigarette. It has lipstick stains on it now and when she lifts it to her own mouth she can taste the lingering saliva on the filter.

She takes another long drag before handing it over and watching in awe as her teacher finishes it off.

Once it’s gone, Miss Horony says, “Outside of class, you can call me Kate.”

“Cool,” Nicole says.

She mentally kicks herself.

Kate simply laughs before turning on her heel. Her eyes drift down to the woman’s ass and she rips her eyes away quickly as she realizes she’s checking the woman out. Kate adds over her shoulder, “See you later, Nicole.”

The bell rings before Nicole’s brain can even catch up.

🚬

She has a lot of time to think during her walk from school to work.

When she arrives, her dad actually smiles at her. It leaves her a little confused and mostly unsettled. What leaves her even more unsettled is the way Charlie grins softly wide upon seeing her that it bears all of his excitement. It makes her skin crawls like he actually believes that he has a chance.

Her instinct is to walk right up to him and tell him to back off, to make it abundantly clear that she is definitely not interested and he is very much not her type.

But fear holds her prisoner.

He is bigger than her and stronger than her and much better at talking than her. He has so much charm, but she will not fall for it. Not in the way she now realizes he had hoped. Truly, she had just thought he was being nice.

It was obviously silly of her to think just once, someone liked something about her.

“How was school?” Charlie asks. Nicole shrugs, keeping her distance. He doesn’t entirely seem to get the hint because he stops working on the vehicle and makes his way over. He pushes her lightly on the shoulder and says, “What? Not talking to me now?”

“I am,” she says, cringing at her own response, “School was just...lame.”

The school part had been pretty lame.

The other stuff had been...confusing.

“Oh come on,” he says with a laugh, “You always say it’s lame! I know that at least one thing interesting is going on while you’re there.”

“No,” Nicole insists, “Just reading this book for class.”

“What’s it about?” He asks.

“Society’s relationship with the media,” Nicole replies. Taking her book out, she holds it up for him to look at briefly. He squints to read the cover, and immediately breaks out into a smirk. “I’m gonna actually go read it until a call comes in.”

“You can read it to me, if ya want,” he says with a shrug.

“Uh,” Nicole says, hesitating to think of a way out of it, “I shouldn’t. It’s for school and I can’t really remember when I read aloud.”

“The next one then,” he says.

“Sure,” she says dismissively.

She steps out into the sunlight and cracks the book open, hoping it’s enough to give her peace until a call comes in.

🚬

She pulls the wrecker up to a brand new Mercedes and wonders what on the hell is going on with it that it would need a tow. She sighs as she turns the truck off, hopping out of the vehicle as soon as her seatbelt is off. She closes the door behind her and walks up to the car.

The driver is leaning against the hood and, upon second glance, she realizes it’s the girl from the lunchroom.

“Hey,” Nicole greets, trying not to startle the customer, “What’s going on with the car?”

“I don’t know the first thing about cars,” the girl replies, tone a bit more judgmental than Nicole can appreciate. The girl turns to look at her and her demeanor quickly changes, the tension in her shoulders fading and a smile crossing her mouth. “It’s you.”

“It’s me,” Nicole echoes.

“Like a knight in shining armor,” the girl counters.

“Can we just pop the hood and take a look?” Nicole suggests.

The agreement had been simple. No cheating. Although winning this girl over seems like it would be pretty easy, she isn’t in a position where she can utilize the opportunity. The last thing she wants to do is embarrass Waverly. 

“Sure,” she replies, moving off of the hood, “Go ahead.”

Nicole sighs when she realizes that the girl probably doesn’t know the first think about popping the hood in the first place. It seems like getting into anything with this girl would be fairly high maintenance. A hell of a lot more effort than Nicole would want to put in.

Once popping the hood, she moves to the end of the car to take a look. She starts checking everything out, but she really can’t see anything wrong with it. In fact, the engine looks incredible.

“I’m Shae, by the way,” the girl says.

“Nicole,” she says. She almost extends her hand but notices the grease on them and thinks better. It would probably turn into some disaster if she even tried. She wipes her hands off instead. “Do you mind if I try to start it?”

Shae hands over the keys quickly. She moves around to the driver’s side and tries to start it. The interior lights up so the battery is clearly fine.

“You hang out with that Waverly girl, right?” Shae asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Nicole answers, swallowing, “She’s my girlfriend.”

Shae hums in response.

Nicole sighs.

Looks like the Mercedes is just out of gas.

Chapter Text

There’s a weird feeling bubbling inside of her at telling someone that Waverly is her girlfriend. It feels kind of nice, different, warm. Something she hasn’t felt in a long time.

She is sure now that the news will spread like wildfire.

Come tomorrow, there will be a storm to wage against head on and part of her is concerned about how Waverly will react. Whether she thinks she’s ready for this or not, answering questions directly and facing it head on is very different than what she thinks it is. Silently, Nicole vows to be as supportive as possible. She will take as much heat as it takes to make the process painless for Waverly. It’s the least she can do as her girlfriend. 

This knowledge flowing through her keeps her from her undivided attention while Kate speaks.

She doesn’t even take notes for the day. She’s too busy worrying about Waverly and what might be happening outside of this tiny room. It’s her instinct to want to protect her from any scrutiny. She supposes it always has been.

So, when the clock hits 8, she’s out of the classroom without a second of hesitation.

She’s so overwhelmed with relief when she sees Waverly smiling by her locker that she can’t help pulling her into a tight hug. For a moment, she feels pretty stupid about it until the brunette wraps her arms around her waist and pulls her in. At least her reaction means she isn’t angry with Nicole.

“Morning,” Nicole says, relieved.

Pulling back, she sees a blush on Waverly’s cheeks although her hands stay pressed against Nicole’s sides. Her ribs ache slightly, an unexpected visitor against her skin making her heart beat wildly. If she listens closely, she thinks she recognizes the tune.

“Hi,” Waverly says, smile quite wide.

“How’s it going this morning? You good? All good?” Nicole asks in a rush.

“I’m fine,” Waverly says, eyebrows quickly tilting downward, “You’re being weird. Why are you being weird?”

She expels a breath to steady herself, guilt jumping to the surface. She looks away and runs a hand through her hair before looking back. She says, “I told somebody that you’re my girlfriend yesterday.”

“Ok,” Waverly says slowly, “That’s kind of the point.”

“Right,” Nicole says, sighing with her entire body, “You’re right. If you’re not worried, then I’m not worried.”

“Are you having second thoughts about this?” Waverly asks. It feels sudden, out of nowhere. She’s so off kilter about it that she doesn’t know how to answer. One glance at Waverly’s face tells her that there isn’t a good way to answer it anyway. “Because it feels like you’re trying to break up with me every chance you get.”

“No,” Nicole says so loudly that it echoes through the hallway, causing many of their classmates to look at her, “I’m not. I promise I’m not.”

“Just have fun with it, babe,” Waverly replies, a playful tone in her voice.

🚬

Pretending to date Waverly Earp is easy.

The only hard part is trying to fit in with her friends, with people who just don’t understand Nicole anymore. Over lunch, said friends finally acknowledge their budding romance. Or, budding “romance,” rather. There are numerous questions that follow.

Is this a joke?

Since when were you into girls?

How long has this been going on?

Is Nicole really your girlfriend?

None of the questions seemed to particularly be directed at her. So she just sort of kept her pretty little mouth shut and offered silent support. If at any moment Waverly seemed to falter, which really didn’t happen too much, Nicole just reached for her hand and gave it a little squeeze.

By the time the bell for lunch rang, she felt like she could breathe easier for getting through it.

🚬

They still don’t believe it

Why the hell not?

Said we don’t seem like a couple

I’m sorry. I’ll do better

🚬

It’s the middle of the night and she can’t sleep. She sends Rosita a text asking if she’s in the mood to hang out so her friend comes by to get her and they go to the 24 hour diner on the edge of town. It feels like it’s been a long time since they’ve hung out and she almost has no idea what the spitfire has been up to. 

“So what’s been going on?” Nicole asks, sipping on her coffee.

Rosita is scarfing down a full plate when she answers, “Makin that money.”

“I feel that,” Nicole says with a huff.

“You’ve been going to school,” Rosita says once swallowing the last of the food on her plate.

She sighs and finishes her coffee before saying, “I have.”

“Good for you,” Rosita says with a smirk.

Nicole watches as Rosita places a 20 dollar bill on the table and gets up from the other side of the booth. They are just outside of the restaurant when she feels Rosita’s fingers circle her wrist. She twists it slightly in her grasp but the fingers are locked like handcuffs. 

Her friend pulls on her, grinning as she pushes Nicole against the hood of her car.

“I can’t fuck you,” Nicole says, hands pushing against Rosita’s stomach.

“And why not?” Rosita baits, letting her hands slide down Nicole’s shoulders.

“I promised Waverly I wouldn’t cheat,” Nicole replies.

Rosita takes a half step back, confusion clear on her face, and she says, “What?”

“She’s kinda my girlfriend,” Nicole says.

Rosita laughs.

It starts all over again when they both get into the car.

The sound is only drowned out by the music blasting through the speakers.

🚬

She tells Rosita some things, but not all of them.

🚬

Kate stares at her beneath the morning light almost as though she is completely in Nicole’s head. She might be. For all Nicole knows, Kate can tell that she truly isn’t focused on what she’s saying one bit. It’s truly the exhaustion beating at her. They hadn’t gotten back to Rosita’s apartment until nearly 4am then she was only able to take a short nap before getting up. The walk is much longer from her friend’s apartment than her own house.

“Alright, Nicole,” Kate says, crossing her arms over her chest, “If you can’t pay attention then maybe I’ll just stop wasting my breath.”

“I’m sorry,” she replies with ease, “I’m trying here.”

“Let’s take a break,” Kate says, dropping her anger, “I don’t know about you, but I could really use a cigarette.”

Nicole stares at her, blinking, thinking about them sharing a cigarette the other day. She had briefly pushed it to the back of her mind, thinking more about Waverly’s hand in hers than her lips on the same place Kate’s had been. She absently licks her lips and gathers her bearings.

“Yeah, yeah,” she finally says, standing up quickly, “I could always use a cigarette.”

“After you,” Kate says with a gesture towards the door.

They make their way outside and when the wind picks up as she pushes open the door, she wishes she had work a jacket. All of hers are too thick, but it’s getting cold enough. She’s lighting a cigarette, using her hand to cup the little stick and hide it from the wind. Once it’s set ablaze, she inhales deeply and hands it over to the woman.

Kate takes a drag, chin tilting up towards the sky and baring her elongated throat. Nicole finds it easy to stare. The woman is undeniably attractive with her captivating smile and her long eyelashes. Even more attractive when Nicole thinks about her mouth being where Nicole’s mouth has been.

As she pulls the cigarette from her glossy lips, a complimentary pink that really makes her mouth look plump, Kate says, “Tell me something true.”

Kate takes another drag of the cigarette and stares at Nicole’s face with an easy look. Her eyes draw the truths out of Nicole and her mind reels at a hundred miles an hour. Maybe more. She doesn’t know what Kate wants to know, so she just stares back with the words caught in her throat. 

Kate exhales and hands the cigarette back over. Nicole takes it, perches it between her lips, and breathes it in. It soothes her nerves, licking her wounds like she’s a wild animal. Maybe she is just somebody’s prey. 

Finally, she pulls the cigarette from her mouth and holds it in a way that it’s shielded from the wind. She looks down at the concrete, scuffing the toe of her Timberland boot against it. She says, “Like what?”

“Anything,” Kate replies. She moves closer. Nicole tells herself that Kate, too, is just using her as a shield from the wind. It’s likely, considering the woman lifts her hands to hug her arms.

“Ok, um,” Nicole pauses to think for a moment, “I really like reading. I was always good at it, but then I just kind of...stopped.”

“Are you just telling me that because you know I’m an English teacher?” Kate teases. Their fingers brush together when she takes the cigarette out of Nicole’s hand. There isn’t a jolt, no feeling of alive pinching at her. It just is what it is.

“No, I’m serious,” Nicole says, laughing softly, “I do really like it.”

“Then what happened?” Kate asks, mouth curling around the cigarette.

“I became the town screw up,” Nicole says with a shrug, “Everybody started to hate me and I didn’t want to be around anyone so I just...stopped.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Kate replies, bumping against her shoulder.

Nicole laughs again.

She says, “Yeah, I guess I am.”

🚬

Waverly’s skirt is...very short.

It leaves Nicole breathless yet she can’t look away. She isn’t the only one. Many pairs of eyes linger on her exposed skin, tracing her figure like she’s a freaking ballerina. It makes the heat flare up, nostrils flexing like she’s a fire breathing dragon. Her face is fixed with an angry scowl any time she catches someone leering. 

If she weren’t so scared, she would waltz right up to the brunette and kiss her hard. It would be enough, she thinks, to tell everyone that Waverly is her girlfriend and if anyone has a problem with it then they could just fuck off. If only it were that simple.

She’s pretty sure that the last thing Waverly wants is for Nicole to stake a claim over her, considering. The last thing she would want is Nicole to bruise her knuckles over her. The last thing that the brunette would want is to know that she takes Nicole’s breath away. 

It’s stupid.

She’s probably just horny.

Considering.

The desire to kiss Waverly senseless still lingers as she closes the distance between them. After nearly tripping on her feet and managing to stay upright, she runs a hand through her hair and straightens her shirt out. The sleeves are too short on her t-shirt, a simple colorblock pattern with dark and bright colors mixed. 

“Morning,” Waverly greets, a smile brighter than the sun spreading across her features, “I like your shirt.”

Waverly’s eyes glisten and she feels a gentle tug on her sleeve. If she didn’t know any better, she would think Waverly is flirting with her. But she quickly reminds herself that her fake girlfriend has a crush on another girl. That’s why they’re doing this in the first place.

Still, she can’t help herself.

She gives Waverly a once over and that urge to kiss her again pecks at her resolve.

Instead, she says, “Thanks. I like the...”

She trails off.

She likes it, like really likes it, but she isn’t the only one. The looks don’t go unnoticed. And, perhaps, if Waverly does notice she hasn’t taken issue with it. Absently, she remembers a time when their bodies were all changing and everyone took notice to Waverly Earp. It is a memory that many like her have. It was and is difficult not to notice the smart and beautiful, ultra-bendy brunette.

And, despite her better judgment, Nicole leans close to Waverly’s ear and says, “Did you know you look incredibly hot today?” 

“That was the idea,” Waverly counters slowly.

She has a devilish smile when they lock eyes and it briefly makes Nicole wonder if Waverly’s sole purpose is to torture her.

“I just,” Nicole hesitates to glance around, “I don’t like the way people are looking at you.”

“Oh, that’s perfect,” Waverly replies with a million-watt smile that makes her feel like she’s going to explode.

Nicole sighs.

The reminder stings a little.

“Alright,” she says, rolling her eyes, “Let’s just get you to class.”

As she walks Waverly to class, she notices that they fall into step quite easily. 

It leaves her something to think about for the rest of the day.

🚬

I think we should hang out

Oh yeah?

It would make this easier

Tomorrow?

Perfect

🚬

In an alternate reality somewhere she is a different version of herself. Perhaps she is better. Maybe that version has even managed to make somebody love her. Maybe it could even be Waverly.

She wonders if in that reality she is still 18 years old, wandering around town aimlessly.

She wonders if in that reality she is still unlovable.

She wonders if in that reality she has at least one thing figured out.

She does not know because life is not easy.

Life is trying and failing, hurting and aching, coming and going.

And, boy, does she ache.

She aches for her 15 year old self as she lets Waverly Earp tug on her strings so tightly that everything inside of her snaps. It snaps and stings and leaves a mark. Much like a first love.

But she was naive.

Now she knows.

She knows that love is not real.

🚬

Her first kiss was at summer camp.

Her parents had sent her off so they didn’t have to deal with her while they worked on their marriage. They had spent the school year being stretched too thin between her basketball stuff and her guitar lessons. She had done her best to tell them that she didn’t need them to go to every game, but her dad had appeared so proud and her mom was so not one to be more supportive than.

It was a crazy time.

They were fighting constantly.

She had just turned 14.

Waverly was not at camp.

Not that one anyway.

Her best friend was away at her own camp, cheerleading or bible or something. She

For the life of her, Nicole couldn’t recall why she didn’t go to bible camp that year. Perhaps that it wasn’t enough time for her parents to work on their marriage. Or whatever her parents were actually doing. All that she knows is that by the time she got home, her dad was living in a little apartment with no room for her. 

It was ok, at first.

He still came by to pick her up from basketball, carted her off to guitar lessons.

Her parents just started alternating.

Then suddenly, her support system started waning.

Next thing she knew, her dad barely looked at her and her mom was buried in work. Which was fine. Nicole liked being independent. But there was a difference between being independent and being alone.

That was right around the time it all changed.

She was 16 years old and she had already peaked.

She likes to think she’s no longer that stupid, jaded kid she was then. She no longer falls for ideas that don’t make sense, for things that aren’t tangible. Most importantly, she doesn’t put her all into anything anymore because all she wants is to get out. 

In a town like this, she doesn’t stand a chance.

Not even when Waverly Earp smiles at her and brings her back from the moon, placing her securely on the ground.

🚬

She’s on the last chapter of her borrowed book. When she finishes it, she can return it to Waverly. Maybe they can even talk about it. At least that’s her goal while she’s at work, waiting for a call to come in.

It isn’t a terrible plan.

The part that’s terrible is that Charlie starts to hover.

He interrupts her focus with questions that aren’t relevant, that don’t make sense. She replies as disinterested as possible, but he doesn’t take the hint. If he gets it, he ignores it.

She wonders if this is what other girls feel like all of the time.

She hates it.

🚬

Once she gets home, she finishes reading the book.

Part of her is revved up to read something else. She Googles books that are similar. After making a mental list, she starts scrolling through a list of books to read. There are a few summaries that sound interesting, but she starts to feel bored.

She sets her borrowed book on the nightstand, a heavy feeling settling in her stomach. She will no longer have something of Waverly’s in her possession, something that keeps them connected somehow. She feels silly to feel this way.

Her brain gets stuck on Waverly.

On the what if’s, the what could be’s, the what once was.

She thinks about the skirt she was wearing, about the way her legs looked sunkissed and warm. The way Waverly had pulled her hand onto her thigh at the lunch table and pressed her palm against the back of her hand to feel her fingers against her skin. At least that’s what she let herself think, that Waverly Earp was basking in the glow of her touch.

As she thinks about Waverly’s skin beneath her fingers, she slides her hand into her old basketball shorts. With her eyes squeezed tight, she’s imagines what it would be like to touch the brunette, to kiss her, to make her bones become jelly beneath her. With her eyes squeezed tight, she touches herself until her forearms are burning and lungs are empty and her stomach muscles are aching.

Once finished, she chastises herself for buying into it.

Her phone chimes beside her.

Sweet dreams, babe

And her heart flutters outside of her ribcage.

Chapter Text

There are a lot of things she does not know.

She does not know who she is supposed to become.

She does not know what she is supposed to do.

She does not know how to be happy.

She does not know how to be loved.

🚬

Being with Waverly is easy because it is not real.

🚬

After work, Waverly is there waiting for her. Despite Charlie’s efforts to talk to her as she leaves, she rushes to the Jeep and climbs in. She’s barely even been able to shut the door behind her before her phone chimes in her pocket. It’s unsettling.

She ignores it.

At first.

They go through their greetings and deciding where they want to go rather quickly.

(Nicole has been thinking about it all day. She wants to be somewhere alone with Waverly, where they can talk. And the drive-in movie starts in a few minutes. They might miss a few of the previews but it isn’t about the movie anyway.)

By the time Waverly’s pulled out into the road, her phone is going off again.

“Do you need to cancel?” Waverly asks, voice sounding a hint saddened.

“No,” Nicole says, “I just want to be with you.”

“What?” Waverly says, breathless.

Nicole looks over and sees she’s tightly gripping the steering wheel. It makes her eyes widen, suddenly processing what she’s said. She lightly shakes her head and says, “I just mean that being with you is easy. It’s like...there isn’t any expectations so it’s kind of nice.”

“Oh, right,” Waverly murmurs, “Same.”

For a moment, she feels like she made a massive mistake. The tension in the car is thicker than when she first got into it. It makes her feel like she made a mistake asking Waverly to hang out. But they used to hang out all of the time and it wasn’t awkward.

Her phone goes off again, slicing through the tension.

“You’re popular,” Waverly comments.

Nicole sighs, finally resolving to pulling her phone out of her pocket. She looks at the screen and sees that she has three missed texts from Charlie. She truly isn’t surprised. After silencing her phone, she tucks it away into the door cubby and silently vows not to look at it again.

She could use the peace.

“I’m not,” Nicole replies, “It’s Charlie. He still isn’t getting it.”

“Have you tried talking to him?” Waverly asks.

“Has that worked for you?” Nicole asks.

Waverly hesitates like the very mention of the question sends her into a world of triggers. Part of Nicole doesn’t understand how she’s done it, how she’s dealt with attention from guys. But, then again, Waverly has always been the sweetest person on two legs. She once witnessed the brunette returning Tucker Gardener’s creepy compliments so kindly that it set her heart on fire.

“I don’t know,” Waverly admits.

Nicole waits for her to continue, not wanting to pressure her into saying anything she isn’t ready to say. Although she doesn’t know much, she knows better than to push anyone into anything they aren’t ready for. Instead, she just keeps her mouth shut as Waverly heads toward the edge of town.

They approach the drive-in screen and as she pulls up to the booth, Nicole fishes out her wallet. She hands over her card and pays for the tickets. Once that’s all squared away, Waverly finds a decent parking spot. The car gets parked. The radio is turned to the correct station. The silence befalls them.

Finally, the previews start up.

“A lot of guys are scared of me because of my dad,” Waverly finally tells her, “For the longest time, no one wanted to even date me because I’m the preacher’s daughter. Now, god, it’s so scary.”

“You still haven’t told them?” Nicole asks.

They’re no longer talking about unwanted attention, Nicole knows. They are talking about Waverly’s fear that her parents will freak out when they find out. It rips Nicole’s heart out. She was only half accepted for the longest time. Even sometimes still.

Waverly shakes her head slowly and says, “No. it’s not the right time.”

“No rush,” Nicole says, “You’ll tell them when you’re ready.”

“What’s it like to kiss a girl?” Waverly asks.

Nicole finds herself smiling at the question. Her brain rushes a million miles a minute and settles on the image of her getting to be the person to kiss Waverly. It makes her look away, stare ahead at the screen to hide her embarrassment.

“Not much different than kissing boys,” Nicole says with a shrug, “I would guess, anyway.”

“Who was your first kiss?” Waverly counters.

She looks up then, gaze settling on Waverly’s mouth. The lights from the screen projection dances across Waverly’s face and she can only think of kissing her again. She’s always had that thought at the back of her mind but it isn’t something she’s ever really voiced. Who was she going to tell anyway?

“This girl at summer camp. I don’t even remember her name,” Nicole admits.

“Did you like her?” Waverly says.

“Not really,” Nicole says, absently licking her lips at the thought, “I mean, she was cute and everything. I was just all up in my feelings about some other girl. I thought I was in love.”

“What was she like?”

Nicole laughs at the question, wondering why Waverly is asking her all of this now. But between her working immediately after school and Waverly having cheerleading practice, it really serves as a difficulty to spend any time outside of school together. Being with Waverly reminds her of the old times anyway. It almost makes her feel happy and hopeful.

“She was smart and beautiful,” Nicole answer, giving Waverly a smile, “She was just incredible.”

“Did you ever tell her?” Waverly leans a little closer now, hands wrapping around the center console.

“I didn’t,” Nicole says.

Waverly sighs and says, “Shame. I bet she would have liked you back.”

“I’m not so sure,” Nicole says with a huff.

“Of course she would,” Waverly replies.

Nicole chuckles, disbelief coursing through her. She doesn’t want to give herself that hope so she doesn’t really fight the suggestion. She just looks back at the screen and pretends to be interested.

After awhile, they start talking about other things. The book Nicole returned that morning some, how classes are going, conversations with her friends. Eventually, they’re both leaning on the center console and watching the movie. When they accidentally touch, neither of them shy away from it. The act of holding hands has almost become so easy that their hands easily find each other’s.

🚬

It feels like a date.

By the time the movie ends, it’s so late that Waverly just drops her off at home. They don’t linger. Probably for the best considering Nicole isn’t entirely sure that after holding Waverly’s hand for almost two hours she would be able to stop herself. The pull is still there. The attraction is still alive. The spark keeps trying to ignite.

It still feels like a date.

As she climbs into bed, she thinks about how easily they could be together.

If either of them actually felt anything, that is.

She reminds herself that she is over Waverly and all of the emotions she’s been having towards her are just manufactured.

🚬

She wishes she could call in to work. She arrives before Charlie, but from the moment he walks in the door he’s asking her about her night, dropping hints about her not replying to his texts. He’s difficult to escape.

Luckily, a call comes in that gets her out of the shop.

On her drive, she racks her brain about what possibly changed. She’s known him for months but he only just now started to be overwhelming. Maybe that her fault for not seeing the signs. She’s never really been privy to the attention of men. She certainly hasn’t noticed them flirting. When he started being nice to her, she just thought he was being nice. Maybe he had been flirting all along and she hadn’t known the difference.

It is tiring to be pursued by someone she isn’t interested in. To make matters worse, she doesn’t quite now how to tell him to stop. Every time she tries, she is overcome with fear and silence like the words are caught in her throat.

Maybe it’s her fault for not being clearer.

After all, she hasn’t yet said no.

🚬

Her dad tells her to clock out early.

She thinks that maybe she did something wrong but she’s too afraid to ask. She’s still walking on eggshells around him. After she made the decision to not speak to him unless spoken to, she’s done a pretty good job of sticking to it.

But, now, with an extra few hours to spare, she really doesn’t know what to do with her time. So she wanders over to Rosita’s apartment. Her mom answers the door and lets Nicole in. She’s familiar with the apartment and it doesn’t seem to bother her friend’s mom, so she makes her way into Rosita’s bedroom.

Rosita is still asleep in her bed, so Nicole kicks off her shoes and climbs onto the mattress. When Charlie hasn’t been keeping her on edge, she’s been thinking about the night before with Waverly. She didn’t get home until really late and the feelings deeply rooted into her chest, like little seeds planted and spurring, left her in a pretty good mood. So she throws herself against Rosita’s back and shakes her awake.

Rosita groans and rolls back, pressing more into Nicole as she glances over her shoulder. She stops shaking her friend and gives her a grin. With a heavy sigh, Rosita buries her face back into her pillow for a few seconds before fully waking up. As she turns, Nicole leans back and gives her some room.

“Why are you so cheery?” Rosita grumbles.

“I’m not,” Nicole replies with a protest, lifting her hands up as she sits with her legs crossed.

“Things must be going well with the girlfriend,” Rosita says, a hint of a jealous tone toying with her.

“They’re good,” Nicole says with a shrug. Her phone vibrates in her pocket. Her instincts tells her it’s Charlie, once again, but the hope breeds inside of her that Waverly’s ears are burning.

“How good?” Rosita asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

The teasing look bites at her skin. They’ve barely even touched more than holding hands and, despite that being quite a bit for two people who aren’t really dating, it has been driving her crazy. If she’s being honest, it’s a lot less than she’s used to getting. Her body feels pretty revved up with the constant teasing she feels like she’s getting it from two different ends, but she made a promise. She isn’t given the chance to keep one of those often so she doesn’t plan on breaking it.

“Rosie!” She groans, pushing at her friend’s back. Rosita laughs and catches Nicole’s hand, slipping their hands together. It doesn’t feel right, but Nicole doesn’t fight it. They’ve been the kind of friends who are a little too friendly for so long that she feels like a jerk ending it now. But, after a moment, she twists her hand out of Rosita’s grasp and pulls it back. “We’re taking it slow.”

“How slow?” Rosita says, a suspicious look crossing her features.

“Until she’s comfortable,” Nicole mumbles with a shrug.

“Haught,” Rosita says, voice low and demanding, “Are you fucking with me?”

“What?” Nicole says, huffing.

She feels nervous for some reason, like Rosita can see right through her. She tucks her hair behind both ears and looks down. It’s too difficult to look at her friend in the eye and keeps straight face.

“So,” Rosita says slowly, wiggling her eyebrows, “You don’t want to fool around?”

Nicole sighs.

Rosita just laughs

🚬

She watches Rosita in her element. It looks easy to be her, smiling with all of her teeth and laughing strangely as some guy drags his fingertips up her arm. Nicole squirms at the sight, but doesn’t worry. She knows that Rosita can take care of herself. She knows it so deeply and so desperately that she simply thinks about how she would stand up for herself if that were to happen to her.

Then, she realizes, she wouldn’t.

That she doesn’t.

That when men look at women with that eager, primal look in their eyes it almost feels like there’s no stopping them.

Her instincts tell her to step in, to tell those men to back off of Rosita and let her do her job. But she stops herself, thinking of the last time she tried to protect someone. It ended in complete disarray. After catching Champ with his sleazy hands on some girl and standing up to him for someone else, she ended up being the only one hurt.

But Rosita giggles like it’s worth something and it ends with a big bill in her tip jar.

For the first time in a long time it makes Nicole think how much easier things would be if she were just...straight. Or attracted to men, at least. Maybe she would be able to feign a laugh, or even mean it. If she could just be...different.

Everything suddenly feels heavy again.

She sips her drink. It doesn’t feel like enough so she gets a mouth full and swallows it down. She needs more to drink. The bar is too busy at this point so she doubts that she’ll get another any time soon. Especially because Rosita has to sneak her one knowing that she’s underage.

She sighs in defeat and leaves the bottle on the counter, heading out of the back to the alley. After lighting a cigarette, she leans back against the wall. It’s quiet out here. She doesn’t think she wants to hang out anymore. She just wants to be alone.

It’s a little dark to start walking home, but she doesn’t really have a choice.

She doesn’t bother telling Rosita goodbye, just starts walking towards her house. Halfway there, she stops at the gas station for another pack of cigarettes. She even grabs a bag of gummy lifesavers to eat on her way home. She buries the food into her jacket pocket, eating them when she isn’t smoking a cigarette.

It feels like it takes hours to get home.

🚬

When she gets home, she really can’t sleep. The house is quiet, her mom’s car gone. She sits up in her room and pops her window open, listening to the crickets slip their wings together. The entire street seems quiet, humming with blissful life all tucked away. It’s weird for a Saturday night.

Still, all she manages is to stare at the ceiling until it’s after midnight.

🚬

She remembers waking up in the hospital.

It had been bright and angry, the echoes in the room deafening. She didn’t know where she was, why she was there. All that she knew is that she was in pain. Everything had hurt.

Two of her ribs had been broken.

Her wrist.

Breathing was hard.

Everything following was hard too.

Sometimes when she closes her eyes, she can still smell the disappointment, the loneliness in the room.

She had to have 3 surgeries on her wrist. No one came to visit her. Except her mom. Not even her dad. He had been the angriest she’s ever seen him. Probably for the best that he kept his distance.

Between the surgeries and rehab, she didn’t make it back to school.

Sometimes, when it’s really quiet, she can still hear the click of her wrist.

🚬

She doesn’t know what gets into her. She texts Charlie back. Perhaps it’s the lonely feeling that has cut into her heart and settled in, using her as a warm blanket. It’s simple because he answers. It feels innocent enough.

It feels like attention and importance and being picked.

Even though she wouldn’t pick him back.

If she tries really hard, she can pretend he’s someone else.

She pictures someone who smiles at her like she hung the moon as though she doesn’t have a care in the world. It makes her heart thump against her ribcage, making the little remnants of pain in them throb. Her body is desperate for attention.

In this moment, she would almost give anything to be seen, to be felt, to be cherished instead of her normal used up, chewed up, spit out mess she usually is.

If someone could just see her, she could almost breathe easier.

So she texts Charlie until she falls asleep.

🚬

Sunday at church, Waverly smiles at her like she hangs the stars in the sky.

It’s an anchor.

Chapter Text

It’s 7am when she decides she really likes looking at Kate.

She’s standing outside of the school with a cigarette in hand when she approaches. Even from far away she is a sight to be seen. Nicole swallows thickly, reminding herself that this is not allowed.

She takes a drag before handing it over, a silent gratitude to the heavens above for the sight before her. Watching Kate take her own drag reminds her of just how badly she wants to touch someone, to be touched. It is torture.

“Keep smoking my cigarettes and I’ll have to charge you,” Nicole teases.

“You handed it to me,” Kate reminds her, voice strained and sexy, “You’re so dramatic first thing in the morning.”

“You like it,” Nicole hears herself say. Kate gives her a cocky grin as her lungs drop into her stomach. As much as she likes flirting, she feels like she keeps opening her mouth and the stupidest things come out. At least around the most off limits person she knows anyway. “It’s part of my charm.”

“I see that,” Kate hums.

The woman shakes her head and they finish the cigarette without much more conversation. Nicole is honestly afraid to keep opening her mouth for fear that she will continue to say the wrong thing. The last thing she needs is for Kate to decide showing up to the school early to do her a favor is more than she bargained for. She knows she needs to reign it in.

Once they make it to the classroom, Nicole hyper focuses and doesn’t let it wane.

🚬

The morning is just like any other morning. Walking Waverly to class. Ignoring her teachers. The bell for lunch.

It’s a simple enough routine.

Although something feels off, she attributes it to exhaustion or something.

Until she realizes, that isn’t the problem.

Waverly’s mask is melting. The one that looks the most like Waverly. The one that smiles and is warm and collected.

Nicole’s pretty sure that if she looks aged enough, she can see it.

It’s ok at first.

A few flippant comments thrown in Nicole’s direction from Waverly’s friends about how they’re suspicious. The words aren’t directed at Waverly so even though she falters, she manages to keep the mask in place. But when Champ Hardy, keeper of all things douchebag, makes his way over to the table, her mask slips.

“Wow, Waves, when did you start hanging out with bitches?” He’s staring at Nicole when he says it, the icing on it a failed attempt to dig in. Waverly tenses beside her, but Nicole doesn’t know why. Of all of the things they’ve discussed, Champ hasn’t come up. “I didn’t know you were so desperate to get fucked.”

There are gasps all around. Nicole included. She doesn’t know why she’s so surprised by it. She knows that he’s the prickiest bitch of the East. At least she had hoped at the end of the tunnel he would give Waverly some respect. But what Nicole braces herself for is not what happens.

There’s a retort on her tongue but she’s caught off when Waverly is out of her seat and fleeing the lunch room so fast that Nicole kind of feels like she has whiplash.

Standing up too, Nicole readies her arm to rare back and throw a fist into his face but she thinks of her wrist. She thinks of 3 surgeries and months of rehab that kept her grounded from everything, even school. She thinks about the ache in her ribs and the way everyone started hating her and how she was alone.

Instead, she shakes her head and follows Waverly.

She doesn’t know her direct path, but she knows where to look. Waverly isn’t the type of person to hole herself away in the bathroom and cry. Her form of isolation is to surround herself with books. So Nicole heads to the library.

It takes all of 3 minutes before she finds the brunette, reaching high to the top shelf but not quite grasping what she’s reaching for. She steps close and reaches for her, fingers easily closing over the spine of the book. But, it seems, with their close proximity that Waverly loses her resolve. By the time she’s brought the book down to Waverly’s level, the brunette is leaning into her chest like she’s a pillar of strength, support.

Instinctively, she tucks the book into her back pocket and wraps her arms around Waverly. It’s easy to fall in line, to know what to do for the woman. There isn’t an ounce of hesitation in her bones. After a few minutes, she pulls back.

“Let’s get out of here;” she says. Waverly’s hands clutch at her sides just above her hips and she leans back to look up at her. What she expects is for Waverly to tell her no, not the nod she receives. But the brunette’s eyes are red and puffy. It looks miserable. “Give me your keys.”

Waverly hands them over and Nicole holds them in one hand, easily finding Waverly’s hand with the other.

Quietly, they make their way out of the library, through the hallway, and out the front door. She expects Waverly to change her mind, to protest, but they make it to the Jeep and she still hasn’t said anything. They both climb in and, as she does, she pulls the book out of her pocket to shove into the side compartment.

She points the car to the edge of town, the opposite direction of the drive-in and of Waverly’s house, and just drives.

The car is quiet, just the low hum of the radio in the space between them, and she drives for an hour before she parks.

They are out by the lake, a dock they used to know when they were younger and naive.

“You want to get out?” Nicole asks.

Waverly nods and, after a moment of contemplation, she says, “I have blankets in the back.”

Her voice sounds rough. She’s been crying but not sobbing. Nicole feels guilty, like it’s her fault. She saw the overwhelming coming, tried to warn Waverly, but ultimately it wasn’t up to her.

Nicole finds a blanket from the back and grabs the book, wandering to a nice fluffy spot where the grass is still slightly green. She spreads the blanket out and they both sit, looking out over the water. It seems like forever before Waverly is aware of her surroundings but when she is; she laughs.

Nicole quirks an eyebrow and looks at her tear stained cheeks. Her gaze drifts to the golden brunette locks catching in the wind and creating a halo around her. How fitting that the preacher’s daughter looks like an angel.

“You stole the book,” Waverly says, amused with a lovely little laugh.

“You want to read it?” Nicole asks, picking it up.

“My eyes kinda hurt,” Waverly admits.

Nicole smiles and looks at the cover. It’s Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. She cracks it open to the first page and she reads aloud.

I am an invisible man. No, I am not a spook like those who haunted Edgar Allan Poe; nor am I one of your Hollywood-movie ectoplasms. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids -- and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me.

She hesitates and chances a glance at Waverly. The tension seems to be sliding from her shoulders. Nicole wants to give her more peace, so she keeps reading. A bird chirps, but she doesn’t falter.

By the time she gets to the end of the chapter, she’s laying on her back.

Waverly is curled up beside her, arm wrapped around her waist and using her as a pillow. It feels sort of surreal, the way that it feels easy yet lights her on fire. She doesn’t know why it makes her feel powerful, like she could take on anything if she wanted to.

Sometime after Waverly falls asleep, she stops reading the book out loud for her. She sets it down beside them on the blanket and just leaves her arm secured around the brunette. She does not sleep, although she could easily fall asleep and it would probably be the best sleep of her life. She does marvel at the way they fit together like two puzzle pieces. 

Despite the fact she should feel awkward, she doesn’t.

She feels like it’s the most normal thing in the world, lying beside Waverly Earp.

🚬

Although she does not sleep, she does dream.

She dreams about lying on a beach with the most beautiful woman in the world in her arms.

She dreams about songs on the subject of love.

She dreams about the ways and means of life and love.

And, for the briefest of moments, she believes that love just might exist after all.

🚬

Waverly wakes up confused asking, “Why did you stop reading?”

And Nicole chuckles saying, “You fell asleep, cutie.”

It slips off of her tongue before she even thinks it.

🚬

Are you feeling better?

Yes, thank you 😊

If you ever need to talk, I’m here

You have a nice reading voice

🚬

It does not feel settled.

In fact, the dust feels like it’s been caught in the wind and is twirling so quickly that she can’t make which way is up vs which way is down.

Everything inside of her is screaming out, telling her that she is an idiot. Or beyond. Most likely the second one, considering she got into this in the first place to help Waverly get her real relationship. She deserves it. She deserves someone who will treat her right and treat her like she deserves the world because she does.

Nicole is not the one who can give that to her.

She knows.

She is a person who cannot give at all, or what she can give is not enough. That’s fine. She kind of prefers being alone. It keeps her from getting hurt.

🚬

She cannot sleep so she goes downstairs.

It seems she is not the only one battling insomnia on this night. Her mom is in the kitchen stirring liquid in a mug when she enters. Upon hearing Nicole’s feet shuffle in the tile, her mom looks up and gives her a tired smile.

They are dressed quite differently. Her mother in a pair of silk pajama pants with a matching top and a kimono while she wears old basketball shorts and a tank top. It is not quite cold enough for her to wear anything more. She only hopes to one day encompass her mom’s beauty, a stunning aging effort whose genetics she hopes she leans towards.

“Can’t sleep?” Her mom asks. She shakes her head slowly in response. Her mom takes pity on her, pushing the mug towards her before taking out a new one. “You never sleep anymore.”

Nicole hums in response as she lifts the steaming mug to her mouth, taking a sip. It has a kick to it, one she isn’t expecting. She swallows with a cringe and watches her mom make another drink, grabbing the bottle of Bailey’s from the fridge. It makes sense, a stiff drink at nearly midnight.

“Ever since your accident you’ve had the hardest time sleeping,” her mom muses.

Nicole shrugs and counters, “Too much pain.”

Her mom smiles sadly. Nodding, she stirs her drink. After a few circles swirling around the hot chocolate, she takes a drink. She can feel her mom looking at her, gauging the truth to her statement. It’s somewhat true. Without the pain in her ribs, she would sometimes forget that she’s still breathing.

“Want to watch a movie?” Her mom asks.

Tilting her head from side to side, Nicole considers the offer. Either way, she doesn’t think she’ll be sleeping any time soon. So she might as well be an insomniac with her mom. She finally responds with, “Yeah, we can watch a movie.”

She follows her mom into the living room where they sit beside each other on the couch. She thinks of a time when she was little and they would watch movies together. Usually movies like Mulan or Eddie. Her mom was kind to her, letting her choose the film even though it was ones they had watched hundreds of times.

Her mom picks the movie now, not even asking Nicole’s opinion.

She picks Notting Hill.

They’ve watched it once or twice. It isn’t her favorite Julia Roberts film, but it’s a pretty good one. She won’t complain that her mom is in the mood for some classic comedic romance. Better than being alone. Or worse, better than being so lonely she goes back to exchanging texts with Charlie.

She wishes he would accept being just friends.

A little bit into the movie, the Bailey’s starts hitting her. It calms her a bit. Makes her feel more relaxed. Her mom laughs. She can feel the movement against her side.

She blinks slowly and suddenly she’s opening her eyes with her neck a little stiff, head tilted with her cheek bone resting on her mom’s shoulder. The movie is almost over. She must have actually slept through some of it. Her mom’s warmth makes her feel protected, calm. As much as she doesn’t want to burden her mom, maybe it would be beneficial to open up to her more.

Nicole stretches her spine and continues watching the movie until the credits roll. Neither of them disturb the comfortable silence. She just takes the mugs into the kitchen and washes them out. They meet again at the bottom of the stairs before climbing them, splitting at the top and going opposite ways.

As she crawls into bed, she feels a little bit lighter.

🚬

In a moment of weakness, Nicole uses her greatest asset to get Kate to look at her.

It really isn’t her fault. The woman is gorgeous and nice and gives Nicole the time of day. It isn’t really fair considering Nicole is starving, so she stands a little too close to the woman outside of the school and breathes in the smoke she exhales.

Her head feels clouded and it could truthfully be for any number of reasons. However, she attributes it to the smoke. There’s so much going on inside of her chest that she can’t even decipher the difference between what’s real and what’s fake anymore.

Taking the cigarette back, she lifts it to her lips and sucks on the filter. The embers burn quickly, turning the tobacco into ash until it catches in the wind and floats to the ground. She stabs the cigarette out even though it’s basically gone.

“When are you going to tell me something about you?” Nicole asks.

“When you ask,” Kate replies, a smirk gracing her lips.

They make their way into the old school building, their footsteps echoing off of the metal lockers. Nicole starts wracking her brain for some kind of question but she feels like she’s forgotten everything she’s ever thought in her entire life. Maybe it’s the echo that’s distracting her from thinking.

She waits until they get into the classroom and she takes her seat before she finally thinks of something.

“How did someone like you end up in Purgatory?” Nicole asks.

“Long story short,” Kate starts, leaning back on her desk and so casually relaxing there that she looks like a piece of art, “I followed someone here.”

“Oh,” Nicole says, feeling slightly disappointed.

“Isn’t that how it always happens?” Kate asks.

“I, um, I wouldn’t know,” Nicole replies with a shrug, “Feelings aren’t really my strong suit.”

Neither of them glance away. It’s like they’re locked in a battle of wills. Nicole thinks about her disappointment, how she doesn’t really feel anything for this woman beyond attraction, but that doesn’t really put a dent in her desire. It’s been weeks since she had sex - the longest she’s gone since she recovered from her surgeries. Even when she lived with her aunt and uncle over the summer she was still getting her workouts.

“Surely you have people falling all over themselves for you,” Kate replies.

It’s odd.

Mostly because she can’t tell if Kate is being nice or flirting with her.

Either works, really.

“I do alright,” Nicole admits.

“So what do you do then?” Kate asks, genuinely curious.

“I’m mostly just really good at sex,” Nicole says with a shrug.

For the first time, Kate seems speechless. It makes Nicole grin and sit up taller. After a moment, the woman recovers by clearing her throat. It’s probably one of the quickest recovery times Nicole has witnessed.

“Right,” Kate says, “Let’s get started.”

🚬

“About yesterday,” Waverly starts.

“It’s fine,” Nicole says, smiling.

And she’s back to thinking about how it felt right and easy. She felt needed and wanted and chosen. It was almost like she could be a person who does the feelings thing.

“Well,” Waverly says, nervously tucking a hair behind her ear, “I wanted to thank you. It was exactly what I needed.”

“Anytime,” Nicole replies.

“I mean it,” Waverly says, sighing, “I feel like I’m being pulled in so many different directions and it was the first time in a long time I’ve felt like I could just slow down.”

“Waves,” Nicole breathes, the nickname easily coming back to her after all this time, “Seriously, you do a lot for me. More than you know. I’m just glad I could finally, you know, give back to you a little.”

“That’s really sweet,” Waverly says, almost looking on the more serious side of surprised, “I really appreciate it. I’ve been feeling very...tested...lately.”

“Tested?” Nicole asks, very confused at the sudden hint at admission.

“Yeah,” Waverly says, the mask almost coming completely off. But with a light shake of her head, the mask is back in place and she’s smiling. As captivating as it is, Nicole can see right through the cracks. “I really enjoyed the reading. You’re really good at it.”

“It’s a dumb skill,” Nicole says with a shrug.

“There’s just something so relaxing about being read to,” Waverly says softly.

“Maybe we could do it again sometime,” Nicole suggests.

It sounds an awful lot like a shared hobby to her.

Chapter Text

Nicole likes things fast.

She likes her cars fast.

She likes her girls fast.

She likes things to be quick and easy.

But she is learning that some things are not quick and easy. Some things drag on longer than they should. Some things linger. Some things keep pressing harder and harder and harder until everything inside of her feels tight. She feels bruised and sore and like some things are never ending. 

She settles for a slowdown.

🚬

Charlie Hart has muscles and a smile and a way to make people feel comfortable and safe.

She remembers him that way. She remembers him as someone who made her feel accepted. So, with that in mind, she figures she should talk to him. She should be honest. She should tell him that he’s just not her type.

As her nerves jump every which way inside of her, she makes her way to clock in. At least Charlie doesn’t seem phased by her finicky behavior, if his grin tells her anything. When he grins, a bad feeling settles into her stomach but she puts all of the blame on herself. She’s just taking it the wrong way.

With a sigh, she makes her way over to the car that he’s working on. She leans against the frame, using the heels of her hands to press her weight against the metal. She says, “Hey, Charlie.”

“Hey,” he says with a laugh, “School alright?”

“It was fine,” Nicole replies.

She looks down at what he’s working, trying to get a closer look and figure everything out. She’s been learning about cars slowly, but his overwhelming attention turned her off of it for a moment. If it all goes wrong, she supposes she can use the suggestion to build a bridge with her dad.

“That’s good,” Charlie says.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Nicole says, expelling a shaky breath.

“You did?” He asks, seeming overly excited about the concept.

“Yeah,” Nicole says slowly, “You’re a great guy...”

She must hesitate for too long because he’s giving her his full attention now, leaning on the hood with one arm while pressing his closed fist into his hip. Her gaze falls from his, pretty sure that if she keeps looking at his face then she won’t be brave enough to continue, and she’s pretty sure he’s flexing. She gulps.

He says, “I think you’re great too.”

“Thanks,” she says slowly.

Her resolve fades far too fast. As much as she wants to tell him that they should just be friends, she can’t do it. The words get stuck in her throat.

“I’ve really enjoyed talking to you,” Charlie says.

A lot of people seem to enjoy her lately.

Frankly, it’s all confusing.

Before she can say anything else, a call comes in.

🚬

She makes it home without ever finishing her conversation with Charlie which kind of leaves her in a lurch because it only manages to amplify his efforts.

Her phone won’t stop going off long enough for her to get a moment to herself, to get a moment to even text Waverly for any reason. Whether it be because she wants to or for appearance sake. Doesn’t actually matter.

So she just silences the damn thing, takes a shower, and goes to bed.

🚬

Not every moment of her life means something.

She keeps having casual conversations with Kate.

She keeps walking Waverly to class.

She keeps feeling her blood course through her veins.

The world doesn’t stop moving.

🚬

Chrissy Nedley talks about some stupid party out by the river on Saturday night over lunch. Waverly is forcing fries in her direction and giving her a look that implies not to argue with her. Even though the brunette is rather tiny, she gives the scariest look so Nicole just munched on them until they’re all gone.

She hasn’t been to a party since that night, since Champ’s tongue was down Stephanie’s throat. The Stephanie who used to be Waverly’s friend but no longer sits with them at lunch. It’s interesting how the dynamics have changed since then, how Nicole is the one sitting here now while the band has broken up.

Everybody split down the middle, some following Champ and other following Waverly.

A quick glance at Waverly tells her that she is excited about the party, that she might even be planning something. Nicole knows the look on her face. The wheels in her brain are turning.

However, before Waverly can actually say anything, they are interrupted.

A familiar face wanders over, smiling warmly. Waverly’s hand in her own loosens and loosens until suddenly they aren’t touching anymore. The movement takes her so off guard that she slides her gaze away from the girl to Waverly and narrows her eyes. Confusion overtakes her, pulling and pulling until something snaps as Waverly huffs. She watches the brunette tuck her hair behind her ear, the scowl on her face quickly shifting to a smile.

“Hi,” Waverly greets.

“Hi, Waverly,” the girl replies, then, “Hi, Nicole.”

Her voice is low, if not suggestive, and Nicole swallows as she follows the sound. She’s pretty sure there’s an interest on the tip of the girl’s tongue, residing in her tone. There is a shock that settles into Nicole’s bones, pressing against her ribs and making them ache.

“Hi, Shae,” Nicole replies.

Waverly huffs beside her.

It’s confusing to see a jealous looking Waverly in her peripheral vision, the corner of her eye settling on the brunette’s frame as she becomes Nicole’s main focus. She doesn’t dare look at her, afraid that she will see the anger flaring up her neck and pressing against her cheeks. It feels like a million little needles poking into her skin.

“Are you going to the party Saturday?” Shae asks.

“Oh, um,” Nicole mutters.

It really isn’t her scene anymore, hanging out with underage teens at a high school party. That’s one of the benefits of staying with her aunt and uncle over the summer, them living in a college town where college parties are thrown. They are a totally different animal. It really made her feel grown up.

“We’re going,” Waverly speaks up beside her, a definitive tone in her voice.

“I guess we’re going,” Nicole absently agrees.

She sees a hint of triumph pick at Waverly’s cheeks, biting and wishing and hoping that it’s all in respect to her. Quickly, Nicole berates herself with a light shake to her head. Beneath the table, she reaches over to tap her fingers against Waverly’s knee, but the brunette does not budge one bit.

“Great!” Shae says, all pep and joy, “See you there!”

“Yes,” Nicole says with a sigh.

Shae leaves with a flirtatious wave that sends Nicole’s fake girlfriend into a tizzy. Not to mention, the other occupants of the table seem very unhappy with the most recent development. Nicole’s polite smile fades as soon as Shae walks away, her hips moving a little too pointedly.

“Wow,” Chrissy says dramatically.

“What?” Nicole finds herself saying.

Chrissy glares at her.

Chrissy shifts her gaze to the woman beside her.

Chrissy says, “You’re just going to let her flirt with your girlfriend? Right in front of my salad?”

Nicole scoffs.

“Come to think of it,” Chrissy continues, brows heavy on her face as they dip really low, “I’ve never even seen you two kiss.”

“So what,” Nicole huffs dismissively.

“We don’t have to kiss in front of you,” Waverly says, clearly annoyed.

Under the table, she pushes Nicole’s hand off of her knee. It feels like an appendage has just been removed from her body, like her hands are numb and she no longer has feeling in them. Her heart strains to a slow beat. She’s pretty sure it just might stop beating there inside of her chest.

“Babe, hey,” Nicole says, soothingly. Apprehensively, she lifts a hand to Waverly’s back and smooths her palm across it. It’s a veiled attempt to calm her down, but it seems to work a little bit. Instinctively, she scoots closer to the brunette and leans forward, placing a soft kiss against Waverly’s temple. “It’s ok.”

That manages to shut them up.

For now

🚬

You don’t have to go to the party

Will the girl you like be there?

Possibly

Then we’re going

🚬

She feels like she’s constantly holding her breath.

She’s careful not to say the wrong thing to anyone.

To her dad.

To Charlie.

To Kate.

To Waverly.

So, instead, she says nothing at all.

🚬

She keeps her head down. She takes notes. She tries not to flirt with Kate even though she’s wearing the sleekest looking outfit that has ever graced someone’s frame. They don’t share a cigarette and she doesn’t ask questions.

When it’s closer to 8am, Kate stops teaching to ask her if everything is ok and she just smiles politely and nods slowly.

After gathering her things, she finds Waverly in the hallway looking exhausted and she truly can’t take it. She pulls the brunette into a tight hug and sighs in relief when it’s returned, a certain comfort crashing between them. Something is clearly bothering the other woman but Nicole doesn’t know how to fix it.

🚬

“Are you ok?” Nicole asks before they head into the cafeteria.

“Yeah,” Waverly replies, “Why?”

“You just seem...upset,” Nicole observes, “Is it me?”

“No,” Waverly says through a watery laugh. She tilts her head just slightly, giving the smallest smile she’s ever seen the brunette give. It isn’t even close to convincing. “Just tired.”

Concern courses through her and she reaches out for Waverly, grasping her tightly by the wrist. When there’s no protest, Nicole tugs the woman in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. She doesn’t know much, but she knows that maybe Waverly needs a break or a moment alone and the silence doesn’t much bother her. She would be happy to sit in silence.

“Where are you taking me?” Waverly whines.

It’s cute and makes Nicole feel things.

She wishes it didn’t.

“Just trust me,” Nicole replies.

Waverly huffs and when she looks back she sees a playful look on her mouth. Silently, Waverly follows. Although the grasp around the brunette’s wrist loosens, the hold is slowly returned until their hands are entwined.  She leads Waverly outside where it’s quiet, abandoned by their classmates, and she can be alone to think. 

“Sit with me,” Nicole says, taking her pack of cigarettes out of her coat pocket, “Just for a minute.”

“Can we go to the library afterward?” Waverly asks, hopeful.

“Sure,” Nicole says, smirking.

Shortly after lighting her cigarette, she returns everything to the pockets. Just one puff and she sees Waverly shivering in the wind so she strips her jacket off and hands it over. She watches, heart thudding against her ribcage, as Waverly pulls it on and inhales a deep, deep breath.

The action makes her smile.

A few moments of silence, of a questioning gaze pressing against Waverly, of watching the rather exhausted looking woman bundled up in her jacket, the brunette reaches up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear with a shaky hand.

“Can I try?” Waverly asks.

“You want...” Nicole trails off, uncertainty caking her skin.

The hairs on her arms stand up.

Her stomach drops to the ground.

“Please?” Waverly asks.

Nicole takes another drag before handing it over. She watches as Waverly perches it between two fingers, mimicking her motions. The breath catches in her throat as Waverly lifts it to her lips and sucks on the end, the tip of it glowing. She coughs and flushes with embarrassment. 

They’ve never done this before, shared a cigarette.

Smoking was something she started when she was away at the college town with her aunt and uncle.

Waverly hands it back over and she quickly finishes the cigarette.

They head back inside and go into the library. It’s quiet. Not a lot of people like going to the library. For a brief moment, Nicole understands why Waverly might like it here.

Waverly takes the lead, guiding her down an aisle. It’s like she knows where she’s going and Nicole is simply a lost puppy, following her wherever she may go. It is easy for Waverly to be surrounded by books, to know everything that there is to know, and Nicole does not question it. She never has.

Finally, the brunette plucks one from the shelf and hands it over to Nicole. Dutifully, she takes it and they lower to the floor. Leaning back against the shelf, she positions herself easily and stretches her legs out. She crosses them at the ankle and opens the book, The Dead Hand.

Nicole starts reading from a chapter near the middle, but the words catch in her throat when Waverly leans against her shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, she finds her bearings again and keeps reading. By the time she’s done with the first page, Waverly’s hand is sliding down her arm until their hands entwine.

The bell rings and they ignore it well into the next period.

She’s too comfortable to move anyway.

🚬

A year ago she had it all.

She had basketball. She was on the fast track of getting a scholarship for college. She didn’t know what she wanted to study, but she was open to suggestions. She always liked psychology, even if she didn’t always want to be analyzed by her psychologist mother.

Still, it wouldn’t have been the worst to follow in her mom’s footsteps. Her mom was smart and kind and really understanding. Although her dad sometimes made their relationship a little strenuous when she was younger, they worked out the kinks when he left. Her mother never shamed her. Not when she came out, not when she walked in on Nicole with a girl, not when she had a few suggestions to make things slightly more pleasurable for potential partners. Although the conversation was a lot awkward, her advice had been helpful.

A year ago, Nicole didn’t much worry about what her future held.

She mostly just worried about basketball and doing what she had to do and Waverly Earp.

It’s funny how things change but still remain the same.

All she wants to do is keep everyone happy and it’s exhausting.

So instead of meeting up with Rosita, instead of talking to her mom, instead of reading the notifications on her phone, she goes to bed.

🚬

She wakes up early and makes her mom breakfast. She figures she needs to show the woman a little bit of appreciation, considering she’s pretty much the best mom she could ask for. Her mom smiles as they eat, a silent appreciation of her own at the thoughtfulness. She knows that later on, years from now, her mom will remember this and tell her so.

At work, Charlie shows her a few things. He seems to have backed off a little bit, the conversation that went unfinished must have delivered the message loud and clear. So she smiles when he praises her for understanding. It’s nice.

Jim Miller comes to pick up his car, practically brand new from the engine rebuild. Charlie convinces her to come along to talk to the man. He is nice enough. Seems to remember her from when she was very young. 

He tells her that he has an old car sitting in his driveway that she can have if she just fixes it up. It sounds appealing. She glances at her dad in his office and he doesn’t seem to look back. It stings; his silence. She sees him every day but they haven’t spoken in weeks.

Once the car (and Jim Miller) is gone, she heads outside to lean against the building while she smokes a cigarette. Her arms are dirty, remnants of grease sticking to her pale skin. They’re a little sore too.

The wind blows.

Hard.

Waverly still has her jean jacket, the one with the Sherpa lining, so she shivers.

She thinks about the brunette, bundled up in her jacket and pressed against her side. As they held hands, Waverly absently traced patterns in her skin. For a moment, she thought the woman had drawn a horse but she was too busy trying to focus hard on getting the words of the book right to be sure.

She sighs heavily.

She likes Waverly.

She knows it’s true, has probably always been true, but there isn’t a chance in hell that a woman like that would like her back.

After all, she is unlovable.

As she lets her eyes close, drifting off in thought at how tonight she can savor this one thing for herself, Waverly being her girlfriend, Waverly pretending to like her back, her hand stabs the cigarette out against the siding of the building.

They probably need to stage a break up after tonight. For her own sanity. Of course.

She hears a shuffling beside her.

At first, she thinks it’s just some leaves.

But then she hears, “Good job today.”

The voice, grave and distant, takes her off guard.

She peels an eye open and sees her dad standing there, arms folded across his chest. He stares angrily at her cigarette, no doubt judging her for the decisions she’s made. But she feels like a little girl again, feels like his validation is the only thing that can keep her going.

“Thanks,” she murmurs.

“I didn’t know you were interested in fixing cars,” he says.

“You always say it’s a useful skill,” she changes.

His face breaks into a smile, more obvious than the chances of one he’s been giving.

“If you ever want to learn more, let me know,” her dad says.

It’s an olive branch.

🚬

When she clocks out, darkness French kissing the sky, Charlie follows behind her.

She holds her breath.

Under the fading sunlight, she feels his hand against her back and she stiffens all too quickly, staring at Waverly behind the wheel of her Jeep and begging to be saved.

Chapter Text

The first time she saw Waverly kissing Champ Hardy, her heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. 

It thudded there, telling her horror stories and singing her songs about heartbreak. 

She didn’t know what she had expected, but she at least thought that Waverly Earp could do a thousand times better than Champ Hardy. 

And she could have. She will, one day, when she realizes she’s bigger than Purgatory and better than the rest of them. She never really deserved the brunette anyway. 

Part of her wishes she could be that person who could be good enough for those hazel eyes that bring good tidings and peace on earth. 

🚬

“Why is he touching you?” Waverly asks, voice stern and angry. Nicole is scared as she closes the door to the Jeep, chancing a glance at Charlie to see if he gives any indication that he hears her. Her mouth is dry, so she can’t respond. “I swear...”

Her annoyed grumble becomes so pointed and angry that Nicole can’t hear her correctly.

She shrugs but she’s pretty sure it goes unnoticed by the brunette as she peels the car out of the parking lot. It’s terrifying and Nicole is pretty sure that the wrangler did a little dance on two legs. She gasps involuntarily as she grabs for the handle. Waverly must notice this because her foot eases off of the gas.

“Sorry,” Waverly mumbles.

The car is silent as they head back to Nicole’s house. She clearly needs a shower before this party. Maybe they can grab something to eat too. Might help her stomach a little bit more than alcohol. She’s definitely going to need it. 

As they make their way into Nicole’s house, Waverly huffs behind her. She doesn’t know if she wants to ask seeing as Waverly seems to become angry and reckless. She kind of fears for her life.

They’re halfway up the stairs when Waverly says, “I just don’t get how he isn’t taking the hint. Did you talk to him?”

“Yes,” Nicole replies. She immediately heads to her closet and starts looking for some clothes to put on after her shower. When she finds something acceptable, she turns to see Waverly sitting on her mattress and sulking. Her lips are jutted out in a pout and Nicole melts at the sight. “I’m gonna go shower. I’ll be right back.”

“Ok,” Waverly says, annoyance seeping out.

🚬

Waverly Earp really makes her jacket look something else.

🚬

They haven’t even left her house yet and she’s choking on oxygen, staring at the way the light glows behind the brunette like a halo. It makes her feel like she’s saved, like maybe there’s hope for her yet. How silly that the same person who destroyed her has managed to save her.

🚬

Pete and Kyle York live just outside of town. Their parents are almost never home. They’re vendors at home and garden shows that take them all around the country. It isn’t the first party that they’ve hosted that Nicole has been to. Just the first one since the last one. The acreage is easy to find given the top high blaze in the air. Somehow, a couple of teenagers are really good at containing a fire.

As they approach the house, a rather mansion like looking architecture, Waverly reaches for her hand and entwines their fingers together. It seems like an easy thing for the brunette to do, like it’s something she’s become accustomed to over the weeks. The crazy idea sticks in Nicole’s brain as they cross the threshold into the party, the house swarming with people already.

Their bodies have to press closely together to get through the groups of people, Waverly’s hand squeezing hers tightly like if she loosens the grasp then she will be lost to the crowd.

It is interesting that somehow she has forgotten how popular Waverly is. The popularity pushes heavily on them, on their entwined hands, on the way they make their way into the house and changes the way they fit together. She misses the warmth from Waverly’s hand so she buries them into her jean pockets and follows the brunette into the living room.

Her friends pull her into a conversation, leaving Nicole out of place. She takes the opportunity to excuse herself, to go find something to drink. After opening a beer and taking a quick drink, she reaches for another but realizes she doesn’t even know what Waverly likes to drink.

She decides to grab it anyway.

On her way back, she catches sight of Waverly and Chrissy casually dancing to the music. She doesn’t feel like she can interrupt them, so she leans against the wall and just watches them. Waverly looks happy and carefree. Happier than she has been all week. Certainly less angry than when she picked Nicole up from the shop.

After a few minutes, she feels a pressure on her upper arm that makes her drag her eyes away from the sight she’s been entranced with. The brunette’s hips easily sway, the athletic side of her prominent. Still, Nicole looks away and at the intruder, wondering who in the hell would even want to talk to her.

“Hey,” Shae says.

“Oh, hey,” Nicole replies.

“What are you doing?” Shae asks.

“Watching,” she admits with a sigh.

It feels weird to admit something like this, something that makes her so vulnerable. She hasn’t given anyone power over her, let herself feel for anyone so openly, and she doesn’t know how to keep doing it. She shrugs suddenly, not really sure what else to say to this stranger.

“That’s kinda creepy,” Shae says, teasing tone as she lightly kicks the sole of Nicole’s boot. 

Nicole gives Shae a half smile before looking back up at Waverly. The brunette seems to notice her now, notice Shae’s close proximity, and she sees that same look she had from earlier spread across her pretend girlfriend’s features. The smile fades and her mouth slowly drops open as Waverly works her way over wearing Nicole’s jacket, smelling like Nicole, staring at Nicole like she’s a prize, before the distance is entirely closed.

Stunned, as if in some kind of trance, Nicole doesn’t move.

“Hi, Shae,” Waverly mumbles, not even glancing at the other person as she grasps the front of Nicole’s shirt in her hand.

Nicole follows willingly, ready to go wherever the girl might lead. If she didn’t know any better, she would believe that they were truthfully good together. But she does know better. She knows that this is for some other girl.

She knows that she will never get what she wants.

🚬

Waverly’s mouth looks like chocolate covered strawberries.

🚬

Although she isn’t a very good dancer, she gives in to the pressure.

Just a little.

Just because it gives her a fresh perspective.

A new way to hold Waverly’s hand, and a new way to hold her close.

🚬

Waverly takes one sip of the cheap beer and pushes it back into her hands.

Nicole laughs at her facial expression, a buried appreciation for how adorable the brunette is.

With palms pressed against Nicole’s stomach, she demands whiskey.

🚬

A whole gaggle of people follows her outside to smoke a cigarette and it seems that when drinking, everyone is interested in getting their lips around the filter. She hands a few out, begrudgingly, and shares one with the brunette. On the way back inside, they get roped into beer pong.

🚬

“This stuff is nasty,” Waverly announces, cringing.

All it takes is one pout for Nicole to pluck it from her hands and drink the rest of it down.

Kyle throws another ball and sinks another shot. They roll the balls back across the table and she snatches the cup up, drinking it before Waverly can reach for it. The brunette takes another shot of whiskey and slams the empty glass on the table. Nicole feels Waverly pull her hip and it makes her smile, nearly choking through a laugh as she drinks it quickly. 

“You’re so high maintenance,” Nicole teases.

Waverly’s hands find her shirt again, grasping it tightly as the brunette leans heavily into her side. Instinctively, her arm slides around Waverly’s shoulders and keeps her tucked safely under her arm. Once again, she thinks about how easily they fit together and how Waverly fills her little nooks and crannies.

She sucks in a deep breath and her brain is overwhelmed by her shampoo or her perfume or just that warm scent of the woman. A lump forms in her throat and she almost misses the cup when Kyle sinks another one. The brunette’s hands leave her body and hands her over the cup, but she does manage to step back into Nicole’s space:

Luckily, it’s their turn again and, even though the brothers cleared half of the board, Nicole lifts the ball like the old times and flicks her wrist. It clicks with the movement and a sharp pain shoots up her arm, but she ignores it. The ball goes in. Even though Waverly is positioned in front of her.

They win.

After the third win, Nicole is really starting to feel the alcohol.

Even though she hasn’t had more than beer, she’s been chugging pretty much all of it during their matches since Waverly doesn’t like it. Her arm starts to feel tired so she switches her throwing hand. She’s tragically less coordinated with it so they end up losing. She’s kind of okay with that considering she’s jumped right to beyond tipsy.

She’s pretty sure she has to go to the bathroom too.

🚬

In the bathroom, she squeezes her eyes shut tightly and tries to push the alcohol out of her body as she rests heavily to regain her strength.

After washing her hands, she exits the bathroom and walks down a 100ft dark hallway trying to get back to the woman who has wormed her way deep into Nicole’s chest cavity. Laughing at the ridiculous thought, she leans against the wall until a familiar yet blurry face shoves a glass in her hands and tells her to drink. She does but only because she has a gut feeling the person is trustworthy.

Once half of the cup has been drank, she feels herself being guided back to the crowd of people. She sets the cup down and her hand is immediately occupied by something else. She blinks wildly until the blur in front of her takes a tired shape and soft looking, brunette tresses take form. Swallowing, she lifts her hand to the hair and touches it.

She was right.

It’s soft.

A tickle runs up her arm as she buries her hand into it until she finds something tangible to grasp on to. Her mouth goes dry and it screams for a drink. She feels a pressure against her mouth and her thirst is cured, a moan of appreciation tumbling out.

She doesn’t know where her hands disappear to. In fact, she isn’t even sure that they’re part of her body still. But she is sure that something is holding her up, that what she can feel beneath her hands is warm and perfect so she keeps holding on.

🚬

She really isn’t certain about what happens next.

All she knows is that she feels a pressure against her back and equally as much pressure against her stomach and something inside of her burns and she can’t breathe but she feels insanely alive.

She is a spark.

A flame.

A warmth.

Filled with desire.

🚬

When her eyes slide open, her head is pounding and she’s tightly holding on to something pressed against her chest. The last thing she remembers is leaving the bathroom and walking down the longest hallway she’s ever been in. She sucks in a deep breath and smells that familiar scent, honey and a sweet papaya.

She blinks.

The room is dark and quiet. She isn’t entirely sure of where she is. Slowly, she loosens her grasp on the brunette beside her, sleeping heavily and sound. Summoning all of her energy, she sits upright and gets a better look. Even though it is still dark.

She stands up carefully so as not to disturb Waverly presser so heavily against her. Her body misses the contact the moment that she moves, but she needs to go to the bathroom and she could really use a cigarette. She wanders blindly down the hallway until she finds an open door and sighs in relief when she flips the switch to reveal the bathroom.

After washing her hands, her stomach tightens. She kind of feels like she’s going to throw up. She hasn’t thrown up after drinking in so long, but she hasn’t been that drunk in such a long time. Not even when she had her accident.

She focuses on breathing for a minute.

It helps a little. She starts the tap and bends down to drink from it, letting the water twist and turn inside of her until she feels better. The tightness in her stomach disappears. When she stands back up, she finally gives herself a good look in the mirror. Her hair looks disheveled, shirt wrinkled, and her lips sort of swollen.

She sneaks outside for a cigarette.

She lights it in the wind and the embers catch, floating away with ash and hope.

Whatever happened, she knows she fucked up.

It’s better for everyone if she just doesn’t remember.

A lot less people will be hurt that way.

One thing she’s certain of is that she’s the one about to get her heart broken. All because she let herself feel something for someone. She made the biggest mistake she possibly could.

She really didn’t mean to betray Waverly.

After she finishes her cigarette, she heads back inside. There are so many people littered through the house that there really isn’t anywhere else for her other than where she was before. Quietly, she wanders over to the couch and she instantly thinks that Waverly looks so small. Before she can second guess it, Waverly reaches up and grabs her by the wrist.

There’s a tug and a pout that guides her heart back to the couch.

She’s barely managed to slide back onto it before Waverly is pressed against her, head tucked under her chin.

🚬

She has a dream.

The dream gives her Waverly’s heart on a platter.

It gives her Waverly in her arms and all of the love she could ever have to give. It gives her a hope for a future, one where someone loves her and chooses her and makes her feel wanted. It gives her more than she has ever imagined before.

It gives her warm hands clutching her tightly and soft lifts kissing her sweetly and a smile that makes her stomach do somersaults.

The dream tells her that Waverly Earp fits against her for a reason, that if she could just be someone else then maybe the brunette will just see her as she is; insecure and flawed, but not give a damn.

🚬

The sun is creeping upward when Waverly stirs against her and wakes her slowly. The brunette’s hands paw at her shirt, fingers twisting in the flannel material as she burrows closer. She can’t manage a protest, just pushes her palms against Waverly’s spine and holds her closer. 

She inhales deeply, closing her eyes to memorize the smell. It too burrows inside of her as she squeezes her eyes tightly and pretends for just a moment longer that she’s still asleep. Waverly’s warm breath presses against her throat and sticks to her skin like all of the answers to life and everything else exists in this moment.

Her eyes sting.

The only deal she made with Waverly beating against her ribcage. It was one thing for a short period of time and, although they don’t owe each other anything, she really wanted to stick to this one thing. She really wanted people to stop looking at her like she’s a grade A fuck up, but she just managed to do it again.

Waverly breathes loudly and the couch creaks beneath them as she moves. Her hair tickles Nicole’s face and her tight hold on the brunette falters for a moment. With her arms going lax, Waverly shifts away and onto her back. There’s a loud snore somewhere in the room that makes Nicole snort laugh. It gives her away and Waverly instantly knows she’s awake.

“Hey,” the brunette whispers.

“Hey,” Nicole replies.

They stare at each other for a moment, the close proximity making her forget actual words.

“We should probably head out,” Waverly says.

“Yeah,” Nicole absently nods.

The weight in her arms shifts slightly as Waverly moves to sit up. Reluctantly, she completely let’s go. The air is colder than she expects without Waverly’s warmth.

“Let me run to the bathroom,” Waverly says.

Nicole nods.

She watches Waverly get up and disappear down the hallway. The sadness floods in her chest. She isn’t ready for this to be over and that sort of just snuck up on her. Surely, someone will tell Waverly that she kissed someone last night. That’ll signal the end of it all.

With a sigh, she sits up.

After running her hands over her face, she heads outside. She leans against Waverly’s Jeep and smokes a cigarette. As the front door opens, she drops it to the ground and stomps it out.

“You ok to drive?” She asks as Waverly gets closer.

Old injuries burn in her bones.

She does something she’s never done before...

She opens Waverly’s door and helps her climb behind the wheel.

Chapter Text

She has just enough time to shower before her mother drags her to church.

Waverly sits in the front row as usual and Nicole stares at the back of her head trying to figure out how to tell her about the betrayal deep in her chest because she only has bits and pieces and assumptions.

While Waverly’s dad talks about forgiveness and trust, it goes in one ear and out the other. She’s too busy willing herself not to cry at a piece of her heart being cut out of her chest. The pain only expands when Waverly glances at her over her shoulder and smiles at her like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

Nicole sighs.

Her mom must notice because she feels her hand on her knee, wrapping around it and squeezing lightly. It grounds her. The part of her that wants to run is frozen in place, kept trapped by the sheer force her mom emanates. When the force retracts, Nicole excuses herself to the bathroom.

Her head is pounding. She feels a little hungover and a lot angry at herself. She wants to be alone. She deserves to be alone.

So that’s what she does.

Holes herself up in the bathroom and cries.

🚬

She’s really good at avoidance.

She’s been doing it for months.

It’s probably the only thing that she’s truly good at doing anyway.

That and being a total fuck up.

🚬

It’s midnight and she’s hanging out of her bedroom window, cigarette in hand. She’s watching it burn more than she’s smoking it. The wind is blowing it’s cold air at her, pushing a shiver through her skin, despite her sweatshirt.

Waverly still has her jacket. It’s her favorite one. As she finally lifts the cigarette to her mouth she weighs her options. She could always just pick a different favorite from her closet and just consider that one lost; consider it someone else’s belongings. If 5 years from now she saw Waverly in that jacket and she could say it once belonged to her, she would feel this all would not have been for nothing.

She stabs out her cigarette and closes her window.

It’s warmer inside of the house. She already feels herself getting warm so she takes off her sweatshirt and throws it into the corner. It feels better in the room.

As she lays down in her bed, she thinks about what it would be like to kiss Waverly.

🚬

She’s waiting for Kate outside of the school, messenger bag she found in her closet over her shoulder. Inside of it, she has her two notebooks, a pen, and the book she stole from the library. Being responsible for a bag is almost as annoying as being responsible for loose items. It’s a drag, but at least there’s a pocket she can store a second pack of cigarettes in.

She sighs in relief when she sees Kate, but the woman’s happy yet vibrant demeanor seems to be missing. Nicole feels a twinge of pain in her gut. She selfishly loves getting to see Kate’s beauty and excitement first thing in the morning, even if she knows the prospect of the feeling being mutual is an improbability.

Still, she paints a smile on her mouth as the woman approaches and puts all thoughts of Waverly behind her.

“Morning,” Nicole greets.

“Sorry I’m late,” Kate says.

She doesn’t linger, but immediately heads into the school. Nicole follows quickly behind but she feels sort of invisible given the way that Kate’s heels clacking against the tile drowns out the sound of her boots. The silence is sort of concerning. Kate’s always been a little too chatty for what Nicole prefers in the morning.

As they step into the classroom, Nicole says, “Is everything ok?”

“It’s fine,” Kate says dismissively.

Nicole discards her bag at her desk but doesn’t sit down. She’s too distracted, getting hit right in that sweet spot where she’s a sucker for the woman just because she’s been nice to her. She doesn’t know Nicole at all. She didn’t have to go all out for her.

Besides, they’ve had some good times together.

At least Nicole thinks so.

“It doesn’t look fine,” Nicole says softly.

Kate leans her hip against her desk like it’s a lifeline. It bites at Nicole, the desire to comfort her, to make her smile. So she drags her fingers along the frame of the desk as she approaches, leaning against the side adjacent to the one Kate is leaning against.

“What do you know?” Kate asks, voice bitter.

Nicole’s instinct is to run but, even though she’s been doing that a lot lately, she can’t just abandon Kate. The woman seems to need someone. Maybe not her, but someone. And, regardless, she needs Kate.

“What’s going on?” Nicole asks, ignoring the hurt bubbling inside of her.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kate says. She releases a long, drawn out sigh that Nicole feels deep inside of her bones. It make her feel terrible.

“Of course it matters,” Nicole counters. She looks down at the desk and takes a cautious step closer. Bravely, she lifts her hand and settles it on Kate’s shoulder as she bends at her knees to get a better look into the woman’s eyes. “Why would you think it wouldn’t matter?”

“You have your own thing going on,” Kate says, sighing.

Nicole feels her move beneath her fingers, watching carefully as the defeat spreads through the woman’s frame. She leans back against the desktop, sitting on it, and Nicole finally abandons her firm feet planted on the floor. She moves closer, fingers now wrapping around Kate’s elbow.

“I’m a good listener,” Nicole tries. Kate just hands her head low. They are so close that she can feel her hair, teased into a standing position, brush across her chin. She breathes in honey. Despite her heart hanging on tightly to Waverly’s hand in hers, she grasps tighter. “I’m trying here.”

“I know, and I appreciate it,” Kate says, lifting her gaze.

Nicole swallows, pretty sure she can feel Kate’s breath against her cheek.

She takes a step back and nods gently, deciding she can’t do anything for someone who isn’t letting her.

It tells her a little something that she needs to do.

🚬

Somehow she gets away with avoiding Waverly.

Perhaps the brunette just isn’t trying very hard.

Not that Nicole blames her.

🚬

At lunch she sees Waverly is still proudly wearing her jacket.

Luckily, she makes it out of the school without her being noticed. She lets the breeze bite at her bared skin as she lights a cigarette. It doesn’t taste the same. She had been sharing cigarettes with Waverly all night at the party, her lip gloss stains left sticking against paper. .

No one else seems to want to be outside. It’s getting too cold. She’ll admit. If she didn’t enjoy being alone, enjoy the reminder that she’s actually still alive, she would probably be inside too.

Halfway through lunch, her silence is interrupted.

When she looks up, she sees Kate approaching her from the door. The sound echoes through the hollow air. Nicole feels hope bloom in her chest, hope that the woman will smile and give her warmth.

She silently, easily, settles into the bench beside Nicole. Their thighs touch. It’s distracting enough that she isn’t even expecting Kate to pluck the cigarette from her fingers. She doesn’t exactly know what to do with her hands in the absence so she leans back against the bench and pushes those hands against her legs.

Kate takes a drag then leans against her arm a little bit.

“I just feel...” Kate says slowly, trailing off.

“What?” Nicole asks, voice small and quiet in her throat.

“Disconnected,” Kate says with a shrug, “Hopeless.”

“You’re not,” Nicole says quickly. She leans back against the bench and lifts her arm to drape it against the back of it. Her fingers brush against Kate’s shoulder and she holds her breath. “You’re neither of those things.”

“I’m so alone here,” Kate admits.

Nicole doesn’t know what she should say to that. It isn’t like they know a lot about each other. Sure, sometimes they talk while smoking but it isn’t like they hang out anywhere else. Not that Nicole would be opposed to that. The woman is beautiful and kind and smart. She would be interested if the circumstances were different, if she felt the fire inside of her charging every time they touched. It isn’t like a woman like Kate could ever love her anyway. What could she give?

“This town can be a little,” Nicole pauses, words evading her as Kate leans more against her side and falls into a hug Nicole isn’t expecting, “It isn’t the most welcoming to newcomers.”

“I wish more people were like you,” Kate says softly.

Nicole chuckles lightly.

She wouldn’t consider herself a person anyone should strive to be.

The door opens loudly and the blood running through her veins turns to ice.

She lifts her gaze and her eyes meet Waverly’s.

Kate doesn’t move as quickly as she should. It’s almost like she doesn’t have any control over her limbs. Nicole’s hand moves to the back of the bench, separating herself as best as she can. She can almost see the hurt in Waverly’s face from here.

“See you tomorrow,” Kate says.

She gets up quickly, easily, taking herself back inside. She can feel the tension between the two women across the corridor. The anger radiates off of Waverly’s entire frame and it leaves Nicole unsettled.

Waverly stares at her for a moment, gaze so hard that it pulls Nicole to her feet. The moment she’s standing, the brunette turns on her heel and heads back inside. Defeated, she drops to the bench and lets all of the frustration pick at her.

🚬

She doesn’t even bother going back to class.

She heads over to Rosita’s.

Better there than here.

🚬

“Ok,” Rosita says, pushing her geek against Nicole’s calf, “What’s wrong?”

Peeling her eye open, Nicole looks down the length of her own body to see her friend clutching her towel to her chest. She’s comfortable on Rosita’s bed, hands tucked behind her head. It’s managed to pull her shirt up a bit and expose her stomach in the slightest. The cool air makes her shiver a bit.

She expels a big breath and says, “Girls.”

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Rosita says, laughing.

“Wow,” Nicole murmurs.

“Nicole Haught being a complete mess over some girl,” Rosita retorts.

“Girls,” Nicole corrects; “Meaning more than one.”

“Jesus,” Rosita says with an eye roll.

Nicole huffs in annoyance and tries to shift her gaze when Rosita drops her towel, exposing her breasts. At least she had the decency to put on underwear first which is kind of a bit of progress. Blinking wildly, Nicole shifts a little. It’s been weeks since she’s gotten laid and Rosita does have a great body.

“Hide your titties,” Nicole groans.

“Look away,” Rosita challenges, throwing the towel at Nicole.

It lands on her face.

It’s damp but at least smells like coconuts.

She throws the towel on the floor and drapes her arm over her eyes.

“I fucked up,” Nicole admits.

“How do you mean?” Rosita asks.

“At the party,” she starts, “I was drunk and I’m pretty sure I made out with someone.”

“Didn’t you go with Waverly?” Rosita says.

“Yeah, well,” Nicole says with a shrug that she’s pretty sure Rosita can’t even see, “Apparently even that doesn’t keep me from being a complete asshole.”

“Yikes,” Rosita says. Nicole feels a weight on her thighs so she removes her arm, looking up at her friend. Rosita is straddling her, hands settling lightly on her stomach. She’s wearing a bra now, but she still hasn’t put anything else on. “I thought we had something special.”

“Rosie,” Nicole huffs. Her hands circle Rosita’s wrists and she pushes gently, turning to dump the fiery Latina off of her lap. Her friend grabs the front of her shirt as she goes, a last ditch effort to keep them pressed together. “I can’t, ok? I’m too...upset.”

The look on Waverly’s face presses against her eyes, clouding her vision and her thoughts and reminding her that she really is the worst person.

“Oh, wow,” Rosita says, “You really like her.”

“I really, really do,” Nicole replies.

Rosita stares at her fondly for a minute before pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

🚬

Rosita takes her home on her way to work.

When she gets home, she crosses paths with one of her mom’s patients ending their session.

She almost never has to see her mom’s patients anymore with her new schedule. It feels a little odd. They stare at each other like they know each other’s secrets now. She doesn’t really know him though. Not even from around this small town. But her mom is the best in the business. She has had a few clients from the big city.

When her mom comes into the kitchen, she’s slumped over the counter and eating some cauliflower pizza rolls.

Her face is in her hand and she feels completely exhausted.

“Let me give you some unprecedented advice,” her mom says after studying her for a moment. She already knows there’s no use arguing with her. None at all. She’s going to get the advice whether she wants it or not. “If you see something you want, go for it.”

“And how in the hell am I supposed to do that?” Nicole grumbles.

She shoves the last one into her mouth and chews on it, waiting for her mom to respond.

“Take your head out of your ass, for starters,” her mom says.

It hurts a little, but she sees her mom’s kind smile (the same way she has when she wants to) and knows she’s just trying to help.

Nicole nods in agreement, grabs a beer from the refrigerator, and heads up to her room.

🚬

Tuesday morning and Kate still isn’t smiling.

It sucks.

Nicole gives her an extra tight hug but tries not to pry.

Afterwards, she tries to talk to Waverly, but she just isn’t having it.

🚬

Everything feels awful as she heads into work. She clocks in and tries to keep her head down, but everything inside of her is just screaming out in pain and frustration. It’s a difficult thing to stop thinking about, especially when the lain echoes in her ribs.

🚬

Towards the end of her shift, she’s leaning against the building and smoking her cigarette when that red Jeep Wrangler pulls up. Her body feels chained to the building, like she can’t move. She doesn’t think she can bare to see the angry, hurt look in Waverly’s eyes again.

The vehicle turns off and the door pops open. The brunette hops down and immediately charges over. Although she looks determined, there’s a certain thing about her that seems really dejected. It almost breaks Nicole’s heart.

“Hey,” Nicole chances, “Come here to break up with me?”

“Is that what you want?” Waverly asks.

The answer gets caught in her throat.

No, it isn’t what she wants.

What she wants is to give them a real shot, to get a chance to be different, to be someone that Waverly could love.

But that’s just silly.

Waverly steps forward, the space between them getting smaller. The brunette extends her hand, gesturing for the cigarette. Dutifully, Nicole hands other over and watches her perch it between her lips.

Nicole just shrugs.

Waverly coughs when she inhaled and Nicole can’t help smiling. She steps forward and turns enough to reach around to her back and pay it gently. She takes the cigarette away from Waverly and holds it away, down by her thigh.

“I don’t think smoking is for you,” Nicole says softly. Waverly gives her a sad smile. Taking her hands back to herself, Nicole drops the cigarette to the ground and stomps it out. “Why are you here?”

“I’m just confused about what I saw yesterday,” Waverly admits.

“I think,” Nicole starts, sighing, “She doesn’t really have anyone, you know? She’s lonely.”

Waverly sighs, too.

“That must be hard,” Waverly says.

“It is,” Nicole says.

Waverly just understand because she gives her a sad look. The brunette steps forward and circles her arms around her waist, pulling her into a really tight hug. Nicole’s instincts tell her this is unreal, tell her that she needs to stop letting herself believe what she wants this to be. Even then, she circles her arms around Waverly and hugs her back.

She holds her tighter than she’s ever held anyone before.

She settles her cheek against Waverly’s forehead, marveling at how well they fit together.

Waverly pulls back slowly, so slow that Nicole can feel her breath against her lips. Absently, she licks her own to rid them of the cracks in them. Her own gaze floats from Waverly’s eyes to her mouth and the urge to kiss her hits Nicole in the stomach so hard that the wind leaves her.

“What?” Nicole asks gently.

Waverly’s eyelashes flutter slowly.

Her brain stops responding.

Lips parting in anticipation, Nicole leans slowly but Waverly moves much quicker than her. The brunette’s mouth collides with hers, pushing hard yet soft at the same time. Even though her body is begging for it, Nicole is still surprised and by the time the wheel in her head fires back up Waverly is pulling back. She finds herself chasing the brunette’s mouth.

She watches attentively as Waverly turns away and walks back to her Jeep. She starts the vehicle with a little wave. Nicole makes sure she pulls out onto the road safely.

When she turns back towards the shop, she sees Charlie staring at her with a clenched jaw.

🚬

She does what she does best and avoids her coworker until she can head home.

Chapter Text

Before she leaves the shop, her dad pulls her into his office. He doesn’t mention Waverly’s appearance, if he’s aware of it anyway. He does bring up the prospect of towing the car Jim Miller offered her to the shop later in the week.

It’s nice for her dad to be nice.

🚬

She spends her entire walk home in a daze. A daze of confusion and desire. She wants to text Waverly, to find out what that was all about, but she can’t think of the right way to do it.

When she walks in the door, her mom is sitting in the kitchen on her computer.

At the sight of her mom, she feels like the useless gay she’s always been destined to become. It isn’t like she has experience with being anyone’s girlfriend, and the relationship she did grow up watching didn’t really exhibit much considerate and effective communication. It’s fairly odd considering her mom has a degree in psychology and specializes in sex and relationships.

Resigned, Nicole goes for a glass of water.

“How was work? Things better with your dad?” Her mom asks.

“They seem ok right now,” Nicole tells her.

She drops down into a chair at the table, feeling weightless. Her mom looks up from the screen and pulls her hand to her face, resting her elbow on the table. The intense gaze she receives makes Nicole squirm.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on with you?” Her mom finally says.

“What do you mean?” Nicole asks, confused. She leans back in her chair. She feels tired. Her mom gives her a look, the same one she used to get when the woman would tower over her and just wait for the truth to come out every time she tried to lie. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“What’s on your mind?” Her mom asks.

“So much,” Nicole says.

She sort of wants to cry.

Her mom reaches over with her other hand and grasps her hand, squeezing it as she places it on the table. It reminds her Waverly. Of how they only hold hands under the table. She’s been building this all up in her head for weeks when the signs have been right there. Waverly doesn’t want to be with her, not for real.

“I like this girl,” Nicole says, sighing, “And I’m pretty sure she doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Have you tried talking to her?” Her mom asks.

Nicole laughs because that was her own advice to Waverly.

“I’m not very good at that sort of thing,” Nicole replies.

“Honey,” her mom says, voice soft and warm, “You made a mistake. You can’t beat yourself up about it for the rest of your life. You need to move on.”

“But why would she want to know how I feel?” Nicole says, sincerely uncertain, “Why would she ever like me back?”

“We all like people for different reasons. Whether it be a physical attraction or because they give us something we feel like we’re missing or we just like them,” her mom explains, “Don’t count yourself out of possibilities.”

“I guess,” Nicole replies with a shrug.

“What do you like about her?” Her mom asks then.

She’s surprised by the question and the first answer that comes to mind sounds really silly just to think. Saying it is a really scary idea to even have. But she swallows thickly and decides to say it anyway.

Her gaze drops to their hands and she thinks about how oddly they press together. It isn’t like she’s supposed to fit with her mom, but she hasn’t felt like that with anyone else. She’s never even felt that spark with anyone else. It could just be her old, naive feelings poking out of the surface, but if there’s even a small chance that Waverly could feel the same way about her then she has to try. Right?

“She’s extraordinary;” Nicole murmurs.

Her mom smiles at her.

She smiles back.

“I’m gonna go to bed,” Nicole says.

Before she sets her phone aside, she checks it to see if there’s a missed notification from Waverly, but there isn’t.

It makes her feel sad.

🚬

Instead of sleeping, she thinks about how brave she can be.

She thinks about telling Waverly how she feels, finally, after all this time.

She thinks about her feeling the same.

She thinks about what it would be like to kiss her freely, because she feels like it, because she wants to.

🚬

One look at Kate tells her that the woman has probably spent half of the night crying. Her eyes are swollen, but she looks mostly out together. Nicole cringes when her gaze settles on her lips, noticing that they look a little cracked and are missing her brightly colored lipstick. It’s a shame. She usually has really nice lips to look at.

Usually, there is a moment of hesitation before the greeting. Almost as though every morning they are strangers who simply meet again. She does not complain about this, is not worried about it. Although she does find the woman attractive, she does not feel that certain something that would make it all worthwhile.

But, on this particular morning, there does not seem to be a care in the world. It is as though she can see the woman’s weakness. Kate crumbles before her, all of the heartache on her sleeve as she falls against Nicole without warning.

Although she is surprised, she wraps her arms around the woman anyway. She feels a wetness on her collar and feels the sobs rack against her body. Her hands roam over Kate’s back, an attempt to soothe her through whatever is going on.

“What’s wrong?” Nicole asks.

Kate doesn’t respond at first. She’s struggling to catch her breath and it only manages to make Nicole feel useless. She sighs heavily and holds the woman tighter.

“I’m so stupid,” Kate finally hums after a minute of her breathing regularly.

“You’re not,” Nicole reassures, “Why are you saying that?”

“Because,” Kate replies, groaning as she pulls back just enough to set back onto the bench, “I should have known something was going on when my husband wanted to move here out of nowhere.”

Husband?

She doesn’t know a lot about relationships, but she does know that this doesn’t sound right.

“What do you mean?” Nicole asks, leaning down in front of the woman.

“Turns out, the only reason a man would want to come to Purgatory is because he knocked up someone who lives here,” she explains.

“Oh, shit,” Nicole whispers. She looks up and sees the tears still falling down Kate’s cheeks. She feels so bad, almost like it’s her fault. “I’m sorry.”

“I just can’t figure out what it is about me,” Kate says.

“No, no,” Nicole says quickly. Her hands drop to Kate’s knees and she runs her hands along them, a light and comforting touch against the material of her pants. She tries to smile, but she knows it’s lacking something. “It isn’t you. He’s just a jerk, ok? He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Yeah?” Kate asks, sniffling a little.

“Are you kidding?” Nicole says, laughing lightly, “Look at you. You’re hot. You’re smart. You’re nice. Who wouldn’t want you?”

“Nicole,” the woman hums, “Are you...”

Kate trails off.

Their eyes lock and a lump catches on Nicole’s throat. Her hands brace themselves on Kate’s thighs and she feels like she’s worshipping the woman. She would deserve it, Nicole thinks. But the timing is totally terrible.

Today, when she woke up, she decided to be brave.

Kate’s hand lifts to her cheek. It’s so warm that Nicole can’t move. She hasn’t realized how cold it is outside. She mostly feels numb due to her heavier jacket being occupied. She can’t help leaning into the woman’s touch.

Slowly, Kate leans forward. She can count the seconds. She has plenty of time to react, she knows, but she just can’t. She doesn’t know why.

The warmth from the woman’s breath touches her skin and it jolts her back, reminds her of Waverly kissing her the night before. Even if it had been for Charlie’s benefit, Nicole still felt something. Every single thing with Waverly has felt like something.

Barely, instantly, Nicole reacts. She leans back slightly. She still feels the ghost of Kate’s lips against hers, the warmth.

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” Nicole says.

It is aggressively silent.

“Right,” Kate agrees, “I can’t either.”

The real reason sits on the tip of her tongue but it is not what she says.

Instead...

“Because you’re my teacher,” Nicole says, leaning so far back that she sits on the ground before her. She lifts one knee towards her chest and stretches her other one out. She’s afraid to look up, to see the disappointment in the woman’s eyes.

“You’re my student,” Kate says, voice sounding much steadier, “We should...”

“Yeah,” Nicole replies.

She pushes her weight to her feet and stands.

🚬

She waits by Waverly’s locker but she never comes.

🚬

The concern consumes her.

It isn’t like Waverly to miss school.

She hasn’t even answered the texts that Nicole has sent. She knows that she should probably give her space. After all, she could still be mad about all of the stuff with Kate. It turns out, she had been extremely valid in her concerns.

Realistically, the brunette truly never had a reason to worry.

Deep down, Nicole knows that, beneath all of the hurt and anger, Waverly was always settled right there deep in her bones.

🚬

When she clocks in, Waverly still hasn’t responded to her texts.

Usually, she waits around the shop for a call but she just can’t do that.

For the first time in a long time, she understands what it feels like to worry about someone else. She worries so much, that her chest feels tight and her stomach aches. Sort of like she’s going to throw up. The nausea is quite terrible, so she climbs behind the wheel of the wrecker and drives.

It takes awhile, but she finally arrives to the Earp homestead. It looks a little bit different than the last time she was here. It has been a few years since she’s seen the place, since they drifted apart, but it hasn’t gone through too many changes. It just looks like it needs a bit of upkeep. Maybe a little bit of lawn care.

She sighs as she stares at the door.

The Jeep is parked outside, next to a truck.

All of the bravery she’d mustered begins to fade.

It’s clear that Waverly really doesn’t want to talk to her, but she’s overwhelmed with the need to just be heard. She has to make Waverly hear her. She needs to know if the kiss from yesterday was for Nicole, herself, or for Charlie.

This is it.

The be all, end all.

She’ll either finally get the girl or she’ll have to move on from the girl for good.

Turning off the truck, she pops the door open. It creaks and the chill bites at her exposed ears. She shivers and tucks her hands into her pockets, taking small steps towards the little house. She holds her breath and finally blows it all out, making a weird noise as she does.

Her knuckles are strong as they tap on the wooden door. It echoes throughout the porch. Through the thin walls she can hear movement in the house, a different echo as someone approaches. She racks her brain for what she’s going to say when she finally sees Waverly.

But, when the door opens, it isn’t Waverly.

She blinks and blinks and blinks.

Her brain is left short circuiting.

“Oh hell,” the woman mutters. Her eyes trace the woman’s form and she sees that her normal frame is looking a little bit different. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, the expectant look still not enough to make her think of something to say. “What do you want?”

“Waverly,” Nicole says after a moment, “I mean, is Waverly here?”

“She’s at the hospital,” the woman says, eyebrows furrowing so deeply that she looks like she’s glaring.

“At the hospital?” Nicole says, voice cracking. She immediately forgets about the slightly round belly and the glow, panic taking over. She reaches out to grasp the door frame so tight that her knuckles turn white. “Why? Is she ok?”

“She’s Waverly,” the brunette says with a careless shrug.

“What does that mean?” Nicole asks.

Her worry has exhausted her to the point that she has to lean against the doorframe to keep her upright.

“She’s worried.”

“Ok, Wynonna,” Nicole says with a sigh, “I’m confused.”

Nicole lifts a hand to the bridge of her nose and squeezes her eyes shut tight, trying to understand better what in the hell Waverly’s sister is talking about. Of course, the woman’s laughter doesn’t help. She’s always been annoying in that way.

“Why is Waverly at the hospital?” Nicole asks.

She drops her hand, palm slapping her hip.

“Uh, cause that’s where our mom is, duh,” Wynonna counters, face contorting awkwardly.

“Your mom is at the hospital? Is she ok?” Nicole says.

“She’s got the big c,” Wynonna says, “Didn’t Waverly tell you?”

“Uh, no,” Nicole replies, “She didn’t mention it.”

Nicole leans back finally, shoving her hands into her pockets.

She thinks back to everything.

The way that Waverly had leaned into her so hard, allowed Nicole to comfort her and whisk her away from school. She should have known something big was going on when Waverly had readily agreed to ditch school. As if coming out weren’t stressful enough, adding a sick parent to it?

“Welp, sorry,” Wynonna says with a dismissive shrug, “Hate to break it to you. Bye.”

“Wait!” Nicole says, sticking her hand out to keep Wynonna from closing the door in her face, “When will she be back?”

“Who knows?” Wynonna says.

She doesn’t even wait, just shuts the door in Nicole’s face.

🚬

Wynonna had been less than helpful.

Well, not less than.

She at least learned one thing: Waverly does not feel the same way about her.

Which is...ok.

Upsetting. Disheartening. But ok.

🚬

When she gets back to the shop, her dad is fuming. She swallows thickly and tries to avoid him, because that’s what she does best, but he doesn’t really let her. In fact, she is barely out of the cab of the truck before he’s accosting her.

She’s still clutching the keys in her hand when he says, “Where the hell have you been?”

She is not typically one who cries on the drop of a hat, but his anger really digs in to her reality. The concern about being unlovable had been valid in the sense that she continues to make the wrong choice, in regards to pretty much everything. Including letting herself feel something for Waverly.

“I was, uh,” she hears herself speaking and her voice sounds shaky, but she tries to power through, “I was checking on a friend.”

“Do that on your own time,” he says, jaw clenched.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she says, quickly.

She still sounds shaky, like she’s terrified or crying or something that is wild and untamed.

“You have a phone for a reason,” he reminds her.

She nods, holding the keys tighter as she drops her gaze to the ground. She can’t look him in the eye and see the anger, the disappointment. It’s too much for her right now. Especially after finding out that Waverly has kept something so big from her. Less than 24 hours ago, Waverly had given her hope that maybe they were on the same page, but today that’s all come crashing down.

Her vision is blurred.

“I know, but she wasn’t answering and I was concerned,” Nicole admits.

“You need to learn how to communicate,” he says, pointing sort of aggressively at her.

“I’m trying,” she says with a sigh, “I want to. Please don’t be mad.”

“You get paid to do a job,” her dad replies, “Don’t screw it up.”

At least his voice sounds gentle, forgiving.

He walks away.

🚬

Surprisingly, her dad drives her home after work.

🚬

Her cigarettes don’t taste the same so she throws them out and goes to take a shower. She spends a little bit of extra time beneath the hot water, letting it burn her skin as she thinks about everything crashing down and burning around her. She does not know what she wants and she does not know that if she did know that she would deserve it anyway.

What she had thought she wanted, had thought she could be brave enough for, does not seem attainable. 

🚬

She mourns the loss of a girl that she never really had.

Chapter Text

Wynonna said you came by

I did

Is everything ok?

I just wanted to make sure you were ok

I’m ok

Are you ok?

I’m ok

Ok

🚬

Feeling rather lost, Nicole stares up at Kate but doesn’t hear a word that she says. She’s really trying to focus, especially with the test getting so very close, but she just keeps thinking about the thick and awkward air between them. The tension is a bit suffocating.

There’s a lull and she swallows through it.

“Do you think I’m ready?” Nicole asks.

“I think you’re as ready as you’ll ever be,” Kate says.

She smiles.

It looks uncertain.

“So you think I can pass?” Nicole tries again.

“You just asked that,” Kate replies.

“Those are two different questions,” Nicole replies with a smirk.

“You might want to study up a little before but yeah, I think so,” Kate answers.

She doesn’t linger for fear of what might be said next.

🚬

She does not see Waverly again at school.

She doesn’t hear from her either.

She really can’t help taking it personal.

🚬

Staying for the rest of the school day feels like a waste so she leaves after her English class and wanders around town for a few hours. She gets a decent meal at the diner, a new pack of cigarettes, and even drinks an energy drink. She spends at least an hour and a half being in her own head and wishing she could get out of it.

After wondering why Waverly has chosen to remain so guarded, she ultimately decides that it’s because Nicole is the only one who caught (reignited) feelings. The kiss, Nicole has also decided, was for Charlie’s benefit. It wasn’t a proclamation of feelings and all Nicole has managed to do anyway is fuck it up.

She walks into work with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth.

It isn’t lit or anything but she gets a smirk from Charlie and a weak glare from her dad.

She feels a little out of sorts under the gaze of both men but by the time she looks at her dad again his glare is gone and his stoic look is back. He looks mostly unbothered. She doesn’t really know much about the business side of things so maybe something else is on his mind. He’s never talked about work much. Neither has her mom really. To each their own.

She clocks in and tucks the cigarette away into her pack, rubbing her hands together as her dad exits his office. At least she feels ready to work, even though her mind has been really heavy and she’s slightly exhausted. Maybe it’s the adrenaline that maybe, just maybe, she’s about to become the proud owner of a vehicle that needs a lot of work. It’s still one step closer to freedom.

Part of her is confused about why her dad wants to go with her to tow the vehicle. At this point, she’s towed plenty of them by herself. And, rather she can fix a problem or not, she does know how to at least identify the problems which is progress from a few years ago. There has always been a distance between her and her dad, but she picked up on a few things since coming to the shop with her dad as a kid.

“Ready?” He asks.

She follows him to the truck. After climbing into the passenger side, she buckles up. The cab faintly smells of cigarettes and she hopes that her dad can’t smell it since he has specifically told her not to smoke in the vehicle. She prepares herself to be scolded for the millionth time in her life, but he doesn’t say anything. He simply rolls down the windows and lets the air in.

The drive is slightly uncomfortable, to say the least. Purgatory is not a big town, however, so the deafening silence is over soon enough when he pulls the wrecker up to Jim Miller’s house. It looks like a dump, lots of abandoned vehicles and trailers on the property. He kind of looks like a hoarder.

She follows her dad towards the house. There are a few cars in the long driveway, including the one that they fixed up a few days ago, so it’s difficult to figure out which one he’s trying to give her. After looking at them all, she knows which ones she hopes it isn’t. Some of them look beyond repair.

But these aren’t puppies and she doesn’t get the pick of the litter.

She stands slightly behind her dad as he knocks on the door. This is the closest they’ve been outside of work for weeks. Absently, she wonders if they will be able to have a conversation after this. She wishes she could talk to him, could tell him that she’s trying to move on with her life and not linger in the destruction of one night. She wants to ask him to pretend for just one day that she isn’t a total fuck up even though she knows that’s what he thinks.

With a deep breath, she follows along as Jim Miller opens the door and shows them to the vehicle he’s unloading. It doesn’t look too terrible, but when her dad looks under the hood he’s very clear that it needs a lot of work. He tells her that it could be pretty expensive, but she promises she’ll figure out all of the money stuff.

He sighs and nods in agreement.

He doesn’t look like he has much fight left in him.

She’s sort of glad about that.

The drive back to the shop is just as quiet as on the way there.

🚬

When she was 15, her mom taught her how to drive.

It took a lot of patience.

She was nervous.

She was young and insecure and being made fun of at school because she didn’t have a boyfriend.

Her mom’s brilliant idea was a driving lesson to the ice cream shop.

On the way, they got pulled over and that only rocked her confidence more.

🚬

The car is parked inside of the shop, collecting dust and dirt in the Purgatory wind.

🚬

For a few hours, she wasn’t worried about Waverly or what was going on

But all of that is behind her.

She doesn’t want to bother the brunette. After all, they aren’t really dating. Waverly doesn’t have to confide in her. Besides, she’s terrible at all of the girlfriend things.

It truly is a wonder, all of it.

🚬

She says goodnight to her car and goes home.

🚬

After a night of sleep, thanks to exhaustion, she wakes up with her alarm. She just doesn’t have it in herself to go to school, to face a teacher who tried to kiss her or a girlfriend who isn’t really her girlfriend realizing she doesn’t want to continue pretending to be her girlfriend. She feels lost and alone all over again.

When school first started, she didn’t feel like she fit in. She and Waverly weren’t really friends anymore and she was terribly bitter about everything that had happened between her and, well, everyone else. It was a never ending cycle of loneliness.

It’s a weird familiarity that takes over her mind.

It drags her to Rosita’s apartment.

Her knuckles wrapping against Rosita’s window echoes with its own weird familiarity, especially when it opens without much additional effort. Lifting herself takes everything out of her but she still manages to avoid stepping on her friend. After closing the window behind her, she jumps to the floor and kicks her shoes off before laying on the bed. She stays on top of the blankets, too hot to bother getting beneath them.

It’s quiet for a few minutes. She had expected to fall right back to sleep but she really isn’t tired. She’s actually quite rested and her mind is moving too quickly to get a hold on it. For a moment, she thinks Rosita has fallen back to sleep, until her friend sighs and rolls into her back.

“You’re thinking too loudly, Red,” her friend huffs.

“Whatever,” she grumbles.

“Out with it,” Rosita says. She turns onto her side and faces Nicole, pushing a hand against her arm and making her shift slightly on the mattress. Regardless, Nicole has missed this. “You’re making me more tired.”

“I have to tell you something,” Nicole mumbles. It’s been running through her mind since the lack of communication with Waverly started. She doesn’t know what would be best for her, to pull the plug now before her feelings just get even more hurt or if she should go for it. She sort of needs an impartial party’s opinion. One look at Rosita and she can see the annoyance, the urgency for Nicole to just spit it out. “I’ve kind of been lying to you.”

“Rude,” Rosita counters, “About what?”

“Waverly,” Nicole answers.

She is afraid.

Once it’s out there, she can’t take it back.

Her chest hurts just thinking about it.

“She isn’t exactly my girlfriend,” Nicole tells her.

Rosita sits up slowly. The t-shirt that’s too big for her hangs off of her shoulder, exposing her collarbone and the top of her breast. Nicole looks away, staring up at the ceiling like it’s a much better conversationalist than her one and only friend. Out of the corner of her eye, she catches Rosita wiping her eyes and can’t help looking to gauge her reaction. 

“What do you mean?” Rosita asks.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Nicole replies with a sigh, “Waverly has a crush on this girl who says she won’t date a girl without experience so she asked me to be her fake girlfriend.”

“Dude,” Rosita hums, “You’re an idiot.”

“What?” Nicole says, reeling at the insult.

“You got into that fight with Champ last year because you love her,” Rosita replies, deadpanned, “It ruined your life.”

“I do not,” Nicole says, defensive. Everything inside of her aches at the statement, like she knows how stupid she sounds. She knows how she feels, how she’s always felt, and as much as she’s wanted to deny it she really can’t anymore. Lifting a hand, she scrubs at her face but leaves it covering her eyes. “Being with her feels good but I’m terrified. She kissed me, you know? She kissed me and I haven’t seen her since.”

Rosita grabs her by the wrist as the bed creaks beneath her, lifting her hand to look her in the eye. Nicole squints, head spinning a little under the light. Rosita says, “She’s gonna break your heart. Again. You dumbass.”

Her friend lets go of her wrist and her own palm slaps her in the face with a loud sound echoing around the room. As she groans, Rosita laughs. She feels incredibly stupid and, instantly, she knows that she has to break up with Waverly. 

Or tell the brunette how she feels.

There is no good choice.

🚬

Months ago she was at a party.

It was standard.

There was alcohol.

There was weed.

There was possibly a game of strip something going on in the backyard.

The party was at Perry Crofte’s house while his parents were out of town. It was the largest house in the town. It was probably also the most noticeable because it was so much larger than its neighbors. Still, parties often went ignored because at least they were within town limits rather than somewhere out in the fields away from anyone who could help.

Small victories.

However, it did not feel like a victory when Nicole climbed the stairs and stumbled into the game room. She had downed 2 beers in the last half hour, so many drinking games that she already could not remember. As she held herself up on the wall, she focused on the space in front of her. The couch, where Champ was laid across some girl who wasn’t Waverly.

Drunk, Nicole became filled with rage and crossed the room. She was stomping. It was loud enough to draw attention. That didn’t stop her.

She grabbed Champ by the shirt and tugged as hard as she could, pulling a sloppy clown to the floor. He hit it hard and as he was groaning, holding his chin, Nicole hit him too. Repeatedly. Until someone pulled her off of him.

🚬

After hours of sulking over her Nicole’s Choice situation, Rosita drives her to work.

For a Friday, the shop is incredibly busy. It is a nice weekend, considering they are driving head first towards winter. People are probably getting their vehicles serviced to have a weekend away before the climate drops. A weekend away would be nice. As she clocks in, she feels envious at the idea.

But she knows she will not get a break.

She’s still being punished.

By herself.

By her parents.

By the universe.

She holds her breath as she sneaks passed Charlie, going unnoticed.

When she gets outside, she immediately settles a cigarette between her lips and starts hunting for her lighter. Everything feels insane and nothing makes sense, but before she can light it her vision becomes blurry. Her throat feels tight. The cigarette falls to the ground and she leans against the building for support.

Finally letting the tears fall, she slides down and sits on the dirty concrete. The elevation change doesn’t hinder her tears from falling any longer, instead she might even cry more. The emotions pour out of her and she truly no longer knows why she’s even crying.

Shortly, she feels the wind change. She blinks a few times to figure out why, to clear her vision, and finds the space beside her occupied. One of her stressors slides an arm around her, cradling her as she cries, and she can’t even fight him off. She actually leans into him, finding a comfort as she learns how to breathe all over again.

“What’s going on?” Charlie asks softly.

Nicole shakes her head, hoping that it will be enough.

It isn’t.

“Talk to me,” he says. It’s soothing enough that she feels safe suddenly. It’s confusing, considering. “Please.”

“I thought,” Nicole starts, pausing to suck in a deep breath. She pulls back and leans against the building, putting some space between them. She swallows, wiping at her tears with the back of her hands. “I thought we were friends.”

“Who?” He asks.

“Us,” Nicole says, throat straining, “You and me.”

“We are,” Charlie replies, brows furrowing.

“I like girls,” she replies, immediately feeling stupid.

“Ok,” Charlie says slowly, “Me too.”

“I think my girlfriend is going to break up with me,” Nicole admits, “I really like her.”

“Nah,” he says, “She likes you too much.”

“You don’t know her,” Nicole replies.

“I know what I saw,” Charlie laughs, “I may be a little slow when it comes to girls not being interested, but I can definitely tell when one is interested.”

“Sure,” Nicole says, laughing too.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice soft and warm like milk with honey, “I should have picked up sooner that we are just friends. I didn’t mean...you’re a great person, Haught. Go easy on yourself.”

“I’m trying,” Nicole says, “But it feels like nothing works out in my favor anymore.”

“You have to fight for what you want, kid,” he says, “You’re a fighter. Don’t give up.”

She nods slowly, holding her breath to gather her thoughts.

🚬

Charlie gives her a ride home after work and she no longer feels fear.

Chapter Text

She keeps thinking about what Charlie said.

That she’s a fighter.

It isn’t a quality she ever thought she had. She’s always been athletic, sure. At least she was before the accident. She’s always been charming, yes. Enough so that she can normally get out of trouble. That has always worked on everyone except her parents.

But a fighter?

She never considered.

🚬

Her dad’s disappointment echoes in her mind, suffocating her as she tries to sleep.

Instead, she stares at her ceiling until she just can’t take it anymore. She feels small, like a child, afraid to disappoint a man that she’s never been able to please at all. Maybe it is that reason that she cannot tell him but, then again, it isn’t like she’s told anyone. Not her mom. Not Waverly. Barely Rosita, by the skin of her teeth.

Her hands shake as she smokes cigarette after cigarette until the entire pack is gone. The sun is still low below the horizon, but she needs a distraction so she leaves her bed and her mom and the house to go to the gas station at the halfway mark between house and work. The air is fresh and the world is still quiet, only a few stragglers wandering the small streets at an ungodly hour.

After all, it’s always been said that the sinners live between the hours of 2am and 6am. She lives there, too. It feels nice as the cold breeze licks at her flannel shirt.

During the silence, she tries to summon courage.

🚬

She’s sitting outside of the shop when her dad arrives. His eyebrows are deeply furrowed, jaw tight. Absently, she thinks of the first time she got in trouble after her parents split up. She was sitting on the couch in his little apartment, wishing she could go back to her bedroom at her mom’s house rather than the little room he had made up for her, and he looked at her with such confusion.

It was then that she knew they were strangers and that they probably always would be.

Somehow, the poster of the women’s United States soccer team on her wall hadn’t been a dead giveaway that she wasn’t attracted to men.

She had wondered if he had even paid attention to her.

For a brief moment, she wonders if still has that spare bedroom dedicated to her. She hasn’t been there I’m nearly a year. She’s too old for weekends at dad’s. And adult, some would say. One who had made grave mistakes and was having a hell of a time trying to recover.

Although she’s terrified of what he might say, maybe she really does owe him a thank you for bailing her out.

“You’re early,” he says, voice thick with sleep.

When she was a kid, he used to sing to her sleepy songs while they watched cartoons together. She wonders how a man who used to be so gentle could harden so easily. Maybe it’s her fault. Maybe she ruined him.

Will telling him only manage to widen the gap between them?

She follows him into the shop as he unlocks it, feet feeling heavy. He glances over his shoulder like he's checking to see if she's still following him and, when he notices that she is, he lets go of the door to let her close it. After checking that it’s shut and none of the cold air from outside get in, she goes to the break room where her dad has already started brewing a pot of coffee.

Bravery is not her strong suit so even though needs and wants to tell her dad, she doesn’t exactly know how. Her parents had set rules for her after everything she did and she isn’t abiding by them by deciding to take a different path. She hasn’t even told her mom yet. But she isn’t really scared to. She’s just been stuck in her head about Waverly and her mom is better at that stuff then her dad.

Besides, her dad gave her a job and cuts her paycheck.

With a sigh, she fetches a mug from the cabinet. It is one that’s been here since she was a kid. One she used to drink out of when she would come with her dad to work on the weekend. He had been less angry then, more fun, like he was happy to have her as a daughter.

Her heart aches at remembering.

“I need to tell you something,” she mumbles.

His eyes land on her quickly, bags under them. She realizes that she doesn’t really know him anymore. She doesn’t know what he does when he isn’t working or if he is happy. The bridge between them has been broken and neither of them know how to talk to each other anymore. It is hard knowing that she doesn’t know him beyond the titles of dad or boss.

“Ok,” he says, voice a simple sound without inflection or judgment.

It makes her wonder if, perhaps, he feels the same way about her.

Turning towards the counter, she leans against it. Her palms grasp tightly onto the countertop like she needs it to ground her. For a moment, she thinks about Waverly’s smile and how it grounds her when she least expects it. It manages to help a bit.

“I’m taking the G.E.D. on Tuesday,” Nicole spits out. She releases a deep breath, release coursing through her. Regardless, she isn’t able to look over at her Dad for fear of what she will see in his eyes.

After a moment, he says, “So you need Tuesday off?”

“I can work during the day,” she says, “The test is Tuesday night.”

“Ok,” he says, seemingly indifferent, “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Are you mad?” She changes, lump forming in her throat.

“Nah,” he says, voice airy for the first time in she doesn’t know how long, “I’m proud.”

She turns her head to look at him, eyes tightening to study him.

She believes him.

🚬

The work day is slow as a cold front rolls in.

Charlie shows her a few things about cars.

Her dad gives her a smile from his office and she thinks about how he says he’s proud.

🚬

She feels Waverly’s absence deep in her bones.

They haven’t spoken for days, not really. The news of her mom’s cancer still sticking in her brain. She’s never known someone who has cancer. She’s never even known someone who has died. All of her grandparents are still alive and kicking, making jokes at every family get together.

How can she be there for Waverly when they’re barely even friends?

So, instead, she just continues to give her space.

🚬

Sunday, at church, Julian leads the sermon. It’s weird to see him up there considering he usually only leads the music. But, she supposed without Ward at the helm, someone has to do it.

🚬

When she was 7, her dad took her into the city to a basketball game. The Raptors will still trying to find their footing, something that hadn’t been easy, but she still loved being in the stadium. She was a basketball aficionado then, learning stats and skills.

There, he bought her a baseball hat that still fits her head.

There he had smiled at her like she was the sun in the sky.

Across the parking lot, as she gets into her mom’s car, he looks at her the same way.

It’s really nice.

🚬

Missed seeing you today

Aw, missed you too

How are you?

🚬

The text goes unanswered.

Nicole is concerned and sad about it. Her moping around all day must be apparent because just after 8, there’s a knock on her door. It’s weird to hear considering her mom gives her so much space that some days they don’t even see each other.

She calls for her mom to come in and the door opens almost immediately.

“Hey,” her mom greets, leaning against the doorframe, “Everything alright?”

Nicole shrugs. She doesn’t know how to answer her mom, doesn’t even know where to start. She’s nervous and scared and everything is happening all at once but she doesn’t even think she’s gonna get the girl.

“Since when did you stop talking to me?” Her mom asks, voice a gentle tease.

“I’m just confused,” Nicole admits, sitting up straighter in her bed.

“What are you confused about?” Her mom asks, closing the distance and settling onto the opposite side of the mattress.

“This girl-“

“Your girlfriend?” Her mom interrupts.

“Yeah,” she confirms, “Waverly...I feel like I don’t know where I stand with her and her mom has cancer so maybe this really isn’t even a good time for us to do this. Should we just break up?”

“Do you like her?” Her mom asks, leaning her shoulder against Nicole’s. She nods in response and somehow, her mom chuckles. It makes her scoff slightly. “Then why would you break the girl’s heart?”

Dumbfounded, the excuses catch in her throat.

She ultimately settles on telling her mother the truth.

It isn’t like she has any other options.

“I don’t think it will break her heart,” Nicole says, “I think the only heart that will get broken is mine.”

“What’s going on?” Her mom says, voice a soft and warm hum. It makes her feel like a child, like it she tells her mom everything then she will fix all of her problems. That’s what she needs. She just needs everything to go away.

She takes in a deep breath and tells her mom everything.

🚬

When she was a kid, she came home from camp and told her mom about her first kiss.

Her mom had smiled and asked her how it felt. She asked her if it was mutual (because she did not yet fully understand what consent was). She asked her if she wanted to do it again.

Nicole had been honest and had not felt judged.

It was nice knowing that she could be herself and not feel unloved.

Since that day, she has felt loved by her mother, but finding someone else who could love her has not been easy. She admits that it’s because of her. No one really matches what she wants. She always wanted Waverly, the way she’s everything good in the world.

Perhaps Nicole has always simply believed that Waverly just makes her better too.

🚬

Talking to her mom does nothing in the moping department. If anything, it makes her realize that she and Waverly are really not on the same page. She is reminded why they started this and that she definitely betrayed her fake girlfriend by doing the one thing she asked her not to.

🚬

At work on Monday, Charlie teases her and it feels like it’s back to normal.

It is nice having a friend, someone who understands her and who encourages her to be herself. Not that she doesn’t get that from Rosita, but things with her can be complicated. They started complicating it somewhere around 10th grade when Nicole first came out. It wasn’t often, just occasionally. They never told anyone and probably never will.

Having an uncomplicated friend is new and, despite her rejecting him, Charlie seems to be in good spirits and back to his old self. He offers to pick her up after her test and take her out for a drink. Luckily, she knows just the place where the bartender serves her even though everyone else in the bar knows she’s underage.

Purgatory is it’s own kind of weird that way.

🚬

She makes it to the school before sundown, her shirt sticking to her back. She feels gross because she spent her entire work nervous and sweating. It isn’t even particularly hot outside, she’s just too focused on getting something right.

When she gets to the school, she lights a cigarette up outside. She only has a few left in her pack before she needs to get another one. She’s been smoking more lately with the feeling that she’s absolutely losing control. She had a good grip on her feelings, on the direction it felt like things were going with Waverly, but now everything feels off.

After finishing the cigarette, she drops it to the ground and crushes it with the sole of her boot. She promptly leans over and picks it up to throw it away. Her fingers itch. She drops down onto the bench and leans back against it, her back cracking and her ribs aching with the movement. The residual pain still sometimes takes her off guard.

She looks through her phone a bit, still trying to figure out where she went wrong. Waverly still hasn’t texted back. Although she understands that there’s probably a lot going in Waverly’s household, she still can’t help having her feelings hurt.

“Nicole,” comes a hesitant familiar voice from above her. Jumping in her seat, she looks up and sets her gaze on the owner of the voice. Her heart beats faster. She feels a little guilty and uncomfortable, like maybe she’s been leading this woman on. Still, the sight of her stirs something inside of Nicole. “How are you?”

Swallowing, she locks her phone and tucks it out of sight. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She says, “I’m ok. Nervous.”

“Understandable,” Kate says.

“Is everything ok with Waverly?” She hears herself say.

Kate smiles. It is small and not as bright as usual. Nicole can almost track the guilt on the woman’s face but she really doesn’t want to talk about it. If they never talk about that almost kiss again then they might be able to actually be friends.

“Oh,” Kate says quietly, “She hasn’t been to school yet this week.”

“Really?” Nicole asks, eyebrows furrowing.

“Might want to check on her,” Kate says encouragingly.

Nicole huffs, thinking about how she’s tried that and it hasn’t gotten her very far. She’s frustrated because she thought she meant something to Waverly. Maybe that’s her fault. Maybe she worked that all up in her head. They were friends once, but they aren’t friends anymore.

She should have known better.

“Yeah,” Nicole finally says.

She lightly shakes her head and stands up, following Kate into the school to take the test that’ll get her out of high school forever.

🚬

Charlie’s waiting for her when she gets done with her test. The entire way to Shorty’s she taps out her nervous energy on the arm rest to the beat of she music, some sort of alternative rap. She hasn’t heard it before but she kind of likes it.

He asks about how she thinks the test went and they laugh like there’s no longer a weight on her shoulders.

As they walk into the bar, she’s met with the chatter of those who frequent it. They all recognize her face and if they know her then they pretend not to. That’s how it’s worked since Rosita got hired and she started coming around.

When she locks eyes with her friend, she receives a grin and a wink. Charlie is just a few steps behind her as they approach the bar. They haven’t even taken a seat before Rosita is placing two bottles of beer on the counter for them.

“Who’s your friend?” Rosita asks, leaning heaving on the countertop.

“This is Charlie,” Nicole says, gesturing from one friend to the other, “This is Rosita.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Charlie says as he extends his hand. Rosita easily slides hers into his, looking more dainty than the fierce woman Nicole knows. It gives her the creeps. “Soft hands you have.”

“Strong arms,” Rosita replies, “I like that in a man.”

“Gross,” Nicole huffs.

“Shut it,” Rosita says quickly, retracting her hand to slap Nicole’s arm, “I flirt. That’s what I do.”

“Right,” Nicole says, “How long before you’re off?”

“Go play a round of pool,” Rosita replies, “I should be out of here soon.”

They make their way over and play the longest game of pool of her life. Turns out, neither of them are all that good and no one really seems to stick around to see the end results of the game. Rosita come over and laughs at them. Before too long, her friend is taking a pool stick and finishing the game off herself.

Afterwards, they go to the diner.

It’s a little uncomfortable because Rosita and Charlie are quite flirty. They are sitting next to each other, poking at each other’s sides. Rosita’s hand even settles into his lap by the time they leave.

It all reminds her of Waverly and how she wishes they were.

It reminds her that they don’t actually want the same things.

And it feels like heart break.

Chapter Text

She hasn’t had nearly enough to drink to feel as shitty as she feels. She attributes it to the tears she struggled to keep at bay the moment she was alone. This thing with Waverly is tearing her apart and she knows it will only get worse, but it is still better to rip herself apart now before she truly falls in love.

With that in mind, she shoots her a text.

It says that she thinks Waverly is ready to go after who she truly wants. It says that she thinks Waverly doesn’t need her anymore. It says that she’ll see her around.

If it is read, she does not know.

She hides the alerts from the tiny brunette who has probably always had her heart so she cannot get a proper goodbye.

Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

🚬

There’s a gloomy storm inside of her. It rages on and in her moments of silence she feels like she cannot weather it. It settles down like a thick blanket and weighs on her, even when she grits her teeth and tries to bare it.

🚬

Instead of reading, she uses her downtime at work to look at the engine of her new car. There are spare parts around the shop that Charlie tells her will work. Although he does not do it for her, he confirms from a different bay that she is doing it right. She catches her dad smiling from his office and she almost feels like she can tell him anything.

🚬

The car starts and she makes it home with only one breakdown on the way.

🚬

There’s a car parked in her driveway that doesn’t belong, sitting where her mom’s car usually is. For just a moment, she allows herself to get distracted on where her mom is rather than who’s car is parked in her spot. She swallows as she gets out, her nerves lumping in her throat as her legs threaten to give out beneath her.

She approaches her front door with caution. It almost feels like at any given moment the ground will give way beneath her. Perhaps she will fall into a parallel universe where she is the one Waverly loves.

She stops moving when the person on her porch steps notices her, like she’s a deer in headlights about to collide into a head on crash. She isn’t sure how this will play out. What will the damage be? She grasps her keys in her hand, the metal digging in to her palm, and holds her breath.

The brunette stands, her jean clad legs looking incredibly tight and despite her lack of brain function she still manages to give her a once over. As her eyes trail upward, she notices a book in her clutches. Swallowing, she squints to get a better look but can’t make out what it is.

“What’s that you have in your hands?” She asks, voice faint and catching in her throat.

Waverly looks down at where Nicole is pointing and pulls the book out. The cover becomes clearer. It’s Pride and Prejudice. Nicole watches as she peels open the pages seemingly exactly where she wants and reads:

In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.

Nicole stares at her blankly. Her voice is soft but sure, like there’s a message she should be getting. She doesn’t though. It feels like everything inside of her head has wiped clean and she can’t form any freaking thoughts. Maybe if she stares long enough, Waverly will tell her what to say.

“Nicole,” Waverly finally says, voice echoing in Nicole’s empty brain, “Say something.”

“What?” Nicole says, like the idiot she is, “I don’t...understand.”

“You said I was ready to go after what I want, who I want,” Waverly replies. Nicole shakes her head lightly, face tightening in confusion. She must be dreaming. “I told my parents.”

“That’s great,” Nicole says, laughing lightly, “I’m happy for you.”

“No, I told them,” Waverly says more forcefully.

“Yeah,” Nicole says slowly, “And that’s great.”

“You’re so freakin’ dense sometimes,” Waverly growls, squeezing the book tightly in her hands.

Jaw dropping, she scoffs. It takes a few moments for her to gather her bearings before she closes her mouth again. When she does, she steps forward and closes the distance between them. She reaches out to loosen Waverly’s grasp on the book.

“What did that thing do to you?” Nicole teases.

“I told them about you,” Waverly snaps, “I told them that I, you know...?”

“That you what?” Nicole asks, thumb sweeping across the brunette’s knuckle.

“Don’t make me say it,” Waverly huffs.

“I think I kinda need you to,” Nicole says, tapping her temple, “I’m kinda slow.”

“You’re not,” Waverly disagrees.

Nicole stares at her, studying her. She doesn’t let herself believe the words Waverly hasn’t yet spoken. Just another misunderstanding she can’t get into. Instead, she sighs and lets go of Waverly’s hand. She steps around her, up onto the porch so she’s closer to the door.

In case she needs to run away.

“If you can’t say what you mean then I don’t know where we stand,” Nicole admits.

She crosses her arms, a wall between them.

“I’m not going to let you break up with me,” Waverly says, standing taller.

“Let me?” Nicole asks, recoiling slightly.

“Unless you want to,” Waverly amends shyly.

“Do you want to?” Nicole says.

“I told my parents about us,” Waverly says, fingers tightening on the book again.

“Why?” Nicole says, voice firmer than before.

“Because,” Waverly says, voice shaky, “I love you.”

🚬

Many years ago Waverly Earp kissed her cheek and planted the seed of possibilities.

🚬

“You love me?” Nicole repeats.

“And you love me too,” Waverly says, voice weak with question.

Nicole quirks an eyebrow, fighting a smirk at how perceptive Waverly has always been.

“I started piecing everything together,” Waverly starts, stepping up onto the porch and throwing caution into the wind, “The fight at the party, the girl you had a crush on, the way you hold my hand so tightly.”

“Oh yeah?” Nicole asks, swallowing thickly.

“You love me, Nicole Haught,” Waverly says, mouth curving slowly, “You want to be my girlfriend.”

Looking down her nose at the petite beauty, she stops breathing.

The distance between them closes as Waverly pushes up on her toes.

Their lips touch softly and the brunette shivers.

🚬

After washing the grease off of her arms and the dirt off of her skin, she returns to her bedroom where Waverly is so casual on her bed that she thinks she belongs. She receives a smile that grounds her and makes her heart run wild at the same time. She hasn’t said much, doesn’t really know what to say. It’s possible that she’ll wake up at any second.

She lowers herself onto the bed beside Waverly and says, “Is this real?”

“I like you, silly,” Waverly replies, laughing kindly.

“I thought you said love,” Nicole whines.

“Ugh,” Waverly groans, smacking her on her stomach. She moves in time to catch Waverly’s hand, entwining their fingers with ease. Absently, she wonders if she’s allowed to do these things now. “You haven’t even said it back.”

“I didn’t deny it when you said it,” she points out.

“That isn’t the same thing,” Waverly whines this time.

Laughing briefly, Nicole turns onto her side and settles the brunette’s hand on her hip. She releases her hand and lifts her own to brush a hair behind Waverly’s ear. Beneath her palm, the other woman turns to face her and her eyes draw out all of the truths.

“I do, Waverly Earp, I love you,” Nicole murmurs, fear coursing through her veins as she gives up all of her power, “Can I kiss you?”

“I’m yours to kiss,” Waverly answers.

🚬

While Waverly uses the bathroom, she looks up the results for her G.E.D. They aren’t good. She didn’t pass. She’s upset until she sees the brunette again, walking into her room with a quiet confidence like she belongs.

After a few minutes of silence, Waverly asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Nicole replies.

“You’re doing that thing with your mouth,” Waverly accuses.

“What thing?” Nicole asks, brows creasing.

“Pouting,” Waverly says, face splitting into a grin. Despite finding her girlfriend (she can officially call her that no!) adorable and cute, she still sheepishly buries her face into a pillow. She doesn’t want to feel so sad during such a happy occasion, but she feels a little defeated. “Nicole...”

Waverly’s whine is soft and desperate as her hands settle against Nicole’s sides without hesitation. It occurs to her that the brunette, her girlfriend, is comfortable with her enough to touch her and it sort of makes her forget about her sullen mood. She is in wonder at Waverly.

She sighs and breaks down her walls saying, “I, uh, didn’t pass the G.E.D. test.”

“Oh,” Waverly replies emphatically, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Nicole says all too quickly.

“You’ll try again,” Waverly says, hands beginning to trace shapes into her back, “I’ll help you study.”

“You’d do that?” She says, taken aback by the offer.

“Of course I would,” Waverly says, voice a playful tone, “For you anyway.”

Nicole’s face feels flush. The warmth creeps up her neck and silence falls over them. Over the last few weeks they’ve done a lot of talking and they’ve also done a lot of not talking. She has a million questions running through her head and doesn’t know where to start. She’s momentarily distracted as Waverly’s palms flatten against her back and sweep over the thin material of her shirt in a soothing manner.

“How did your parents take it?” Nicole finally asks.

“It was ok,” Waverly says, voice a little sad, “My dad didn’t want to deal with it right now and my mom just wants me to be happy. They both want me to just live my life and I feel really guilty about that.”

“You shouldn’t,” Nicole replies.

“But I will,” Waverly counters. Her hands still like she’s bracing herself on Nicole’s back. The few sleepovers they had sometimes resulted in accidental spooning so the comfort is there. Or was. Now she’s afraid to touch the brunette even after the admission of love. “It’s hard and the only time I ever feel myself is when I’m with you.”

“Come ‘ere,” Nicole murmurs, turning over and spreading her arms wide.

Waverly settles against her easily and they don’t say anything else.

The petite form bundled up in her arms cuddles in deeper and suddenly her breathing evens out.

Nicole can’t move, not wanting to ruin the moment.

🚬

She wakes up with the light on her nightstand off and a blanket draped across them, but neither of them seemed to have moved.

It’s ironic, she thinks, that she fell asleep so easily and that her body hasn’t craved anything other than this.

Waverly gives off a lot of body heat and it’s making her legs sweat, the material sticking to her legs. Carefully, she moves each limb, trying not to disturb the brunette, but she fails. Her breathing picks up and Nicole immediately feels guilty. Her fingers slip beneath the hem of Waverly’s crop top which has ridden up even further, and she attempts to soothe her back to comfort.

“Sorry, baby,” she whispers.

For a moment, she thinks it will go unnoticed.

Waverly hums and says, “I like when you call me that.”

“You do?” Nicole asks.

“Yeah,” she breathes.

She shifts then, her hand inching up Nicole’s ribcage. The weight on her chest shifts and her tired eyes fight to readjust to see Waverly, but she can’t make out her frame. She feels Waverly’s fingers dig into the swell of her breast and she wonders if it’s on purpose. A thumb sweeps across the underside of her boob and her body reacts. She mentally kicks herself for arching into the touch and immediately leans back.

“Do you want to stay?” Nicole asks, air catching in the base of her throat. Her blunt nails dig into the brunette’s spine as her hand fully presses against the swell and Nicole inhales sharply. It takes her by surprise. “What are you doing?”

“Touching my girlfriend,” Waverly says. Her heart flutters in her chest at the word, her brain squeezing onto the word and engraving it deep. Absently, Nicole licks her lips and aches to feel Waverly’s mouth on hers. “Is that ok?”

“Yeah,” Nicole squeaks, “It’s ok.”

🚬

Finally, they kiss again.

It is soft and slow, but there is heat and sparks and want and need.

Her fingers dip into crevices in Waverly’s skin, cling to her hipbones and draw her close. Their kisses become lazy, merely movements of tongue flicks as their hands explore. Instinctively, her hands slide to the button on Waverly’s jeans and she doesn’t get any protest. There’s an encouraging moan as their mouths part, fingers slipping just beneath the waistband of Waverly’s underwear.

“Is this too much?” Nicole asks.

“No,” Waverly whispers.

And kisses her with desire.

The brunette’s hand wraps around her forearm and guides her downward until two fingers are slipping in to wet folds and Waverly is rocking her hips forward.

It’s sexier than anything else that she’s experienced and her heart constricts in her chest.

They kiss hard and long, leaving lips bruised as their bodies rock together until Waverly comes with a moan against her mouth.

🚬

“Are you ok?” Nicole asks after a few minutes of quiet between them.

“Babe,” Waverly says, fingers clutching Nicole’s shirt, “I’ve been thinking about that since we made out at the party.”

“Oh,” Nicole slowly hums. Everything swirls in her mind at the realization that everything that happened at the party was with Waverly. No wonder it felt so perfect. She smiles widely, breathing easier with the knowledge that she didn’t fuck up after all. “Did you kiss me?”

“I’m always kissing you first,” Waverly teases.

Instead of words, Nicole leans forward and kisses Waverly until she’s once against gasping for breath.

🚬

They change into clothes more comfortable to sleep in before crawling between the sheets and pressing their bodies together.

🚬

She sleeps soundly and doesn’t wake up until Waverly’s alarm goes off at 6:30am. She groans and protests, squeezing the brunette tighter because it is far too early and the sun is far too bright. After a few moments of blinking, she paints kisses along Waverly’s jaw until she stirs awake.

“It’s too early,” Waverly grumbles, “And I’m too comfortable.”

“You’re cute,” Nicole says, sleep laden brain dropping her filter and leaving her vulnerable. The brunette’s eyes slowly open and she looks up at Nicole’s face, a dorky smile on her mouth. She receives a chaste kiss before she can even blink. “Are you gonna get up?”

“I have to go to school,” Waverly groans, “Missed too many classes already.”

“My cute, little nerd,” Nicole teases.

“Can I take a shower?” Waverly asks.

“Sure,” Nicole replies.

🚬

While Waverly showers, Nicole goes downstairs to make some coffee. Her mom is already at the table, undoubtedly itching in her seat for a few minor details, but too busy burying her face in her phone pretending to read. Her mom no longer uses the coffee pot and uses the Keurig to make her drinks by the cup, but she prefers the old fashioned way.

Neither of them speak.

The room is filled with the sound of water running through the pipes. It slowly becomes a battle of the wills on who of them will cave first. Regardless, she has an undeniable grin on her mouth that surely gives her away.

Under her mom’s inquisitive gaze, she gets 2 mugs out of the cabinet and sets them in the counter. It takes a few minutes for the pot to brew but at least the silent isn’t awkward. The shower turns off upstairs before it finishes.

It’s nearly 7:45 now.

The pot finally finishes as Waverly comes down the stairs. Nicole’s eyes widen at the sight of her, one of Nicole’s shirts hugging her torso. It looks good on her, good enough to take her breath away.

“Hi,” Waverly greets, chipper.

“Hey,” Nicole replies, sounding like an idiot.

“Morning, Angela,” Waverly says to Nicole’s mom.

Nicole watches her mom quirk an eyebrow and say, “Morning, Waverly. Sleep well?”

“Amazing,” Waverly admits. In the gentle lull, Nicole pours out a mug full of hot coffee and extends it to her girlfriend. The brunette smiles all graceful and heartwarming as she takes it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Nicole politely murmurs.

“I gotta get going,” Waverly says, clutching the mug in her hands, “I’ll see you later?”

“You will,” Nicole says cheekily.

Waverly pushes up on her toes and places a kiss on the corner of Nicole’s mouth.

She turns with an expert finesse and makes her way out of the house.

Nicole watches the entire way.

The silence is only broken when her mom clears her throat and to get her attention. There’s a somewhat smug look on her face. If only she knew everything.

“I guess it all worked out in your favor,” her mom comments.

She smirks and lifts her steaming mug. After taking a sip, she shrugs. She says, “Pretty damn close.”