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If middle schoolers love anything, it's a good fight – the nastier the better. Which is why an audience gathered in the hallway when Liam Dunbar and some other kid started going at it, screaming and swearing and snarling in each other's faces until, despite being significantly smaller, Liam threw the first punch.
Tracy wasn't that into scuffles between preteen boys who hadn't discovered deodorant yet. She did her best to avoid it on her way to class, trying to slip through the crowd with her books hugged to her chest. No such luck.
"Excuse me," Tracy mumbled, but nobody was listening. All eyes were on Liam and the kid who'd just put him in a headlock.
"What's going on?"
Tracy turned to find Hayden Romero standing behind her, brow furrowed and hair perfectly done for picture day. There was a red streak in it that Tracy could never pull off; the shine of Hayden's lip gloss made her lose herself for a second.
At some point she realized Hayden had been addressing her specifically.
"Fight," Tracy said with a shrug. It was all she could really manage. Her chest had gone tight.
Hayden stood on her tip-toes to get a better view; as soon as she saw what was going down, she seemed determined to do something about it. Tracy watched nervously as she shoved through the throng of kids like it was nothing, going straight to the eye of the storm. Liam was starting to go blue in the face, clawing so frantically at the other boy's arm that he drew blood.
Hayden didn't even bother asking the bigger kid to let Liam go. She just wound up and popped him square in the face.
That made him let go.
Liam sank to the floor, bloodied and black-eyed and gasping for air.
"You could've killed him!" Hayden snarled at Liam's almost-murderer, who just wiped the blood from his nose and stormed off, shouldering past all the spectators.
Once he was gone, Hayden crouched down next to Liam and touched his shoulder. "Jesus, are you okay?"
Liam must've still been in fight or flight mode, because he jolted away from her hand and swung blindly, hitting Hayden right in the eye.
A collective "ooo" went up from the others – except for Tracy, whose heart had dropped to her stomach. She watched Hayden fall back on her elbows, horror dawning on Liam's face as he realized what he'd done.
"Shit," he croaked, reaching out to Hayden, who appeared to be in shock. "I'm so sorry, let me– I didn't mean to–"
"Fuck you," Hayden said definitively.
She picked herself up from the floor, stiff with anger and embarrassment. The crowd parted to let her go, which she did, stalking off down the hall and into the girls bathroom.
As the crowd started to disperse around her, Tracy stood there chewing the inside of her cheek, indecisive. She didn't know Hayden that well – knew she was confident, and pretty, and played soccer, but not much else. They weren't similar. Not on the surface, at least.
Tracy went after her anyway.
Only one of the bathroom stalls was locked when she got there, door scrawled with the obscene graffiti only middle schoolers are capable of. Tracy hesitated but eventually found the courage to knock.
"Fuck off Liam," Hayden barked from the other side of the door.
"It's not Liam," Tracy said, blinking. "It's Tracy. Stewart. Tracy Stewart."
"Oh. Sorry." Then, firmer, "I'm fine, Tracy."
"No."
Silence followed, the kind that made Tracy wince. It ended when Hayden said, "What?"
Tracy cleared her throat, where her heart was currently sitting.
"No," she repeated, as in even though you're kinda scary and way cooler than me, I'm not going anywhere.
It got quiet again. Tracy's heart was pounding like a goddamn drum. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe Hayden would think she was weird – tell her to fuck off forever. Tell all the girls on the soccer team that Tracy Stewart was a perverted lesbian freak.
Those fears went out the window when, slowly but surely, Hayden opened the door. They both stood there, staring at each other. Hayden's left eye was swollen and red from the hit she'd taken; there was toilet paper stuffed up her nostrils.
"Are you coming in or not?" she huffed.
Nervously, wordlessly, Tracy stepped into the stall. Hayden shut and locked the door behind her.
There wasn't a lot of room.
Neither of them spoke for a moment. Tracy shuffled her feet and Hayden crossed her arms, a little self-consciously.
"Do you want me to beat him up for you?" Tracy asked after a beat, and Hayden finally cracked a smile, so genuine and electric that Tracy couldn't quite believe she was responsible for it.
"We can do it together," Hayden suggested, dark eyes gleaming. "You put him in a headlock and I'll punch the shit out of him."
"I'll clear my schedule," Tracy said, which made Hayden laugh, a strand of dyed hair falling in her face. In another life, another timeline, Tracy would reach out and tuck it behind her ear. Just not this one.
"My picture is gonna look so awful now," Hayden huffed, bringing Tracy back down to Earth. The one she was confined to.
"I don't think so. You're really pretty. It'll turn out good no matter what."
As soon as she said it, Tracy froze, horror and regret crashing over her like a ten-foot wave. She'd meant it. Of course she'd meant it. That didn't mean she was supposed to say it out loud.
So she waited for Hayden to give her a look, or back away, or say why are you being weird? Waited for a reckoning that never came.
"Thanks," Hayden murmured, smiling in some secret, knowing way that made Tracy brave. Brave enough to reach out and wipe some of the blood from Hayden's upper lip.
Maybe she could make this universe work.
"Boys are stupid," Tracy said, soft but sure. "They do things and don't care who gets hurt."
"Fuck boys," Hayden agreed with a grin, and Tracy had never felt more powerful than in that moment. Like she could topple cities and get everything she'd ever wanted.
This, she thought to herself in the wake of Hayden's smile. I want this. Always.
"You should probably go to the nurse," she pointed out, even though she'd like this to last forever. Nothing did. Tracy knew that. In her heart, she knew.
"Probably." Hayden raised an eyebrow. "Wanna walk with me?"
Tracy's knowing heart went skip, skip, skip. "Sure."
So Hayden pushed open the stall door and Tracy followed her out – would probably follow her most places. They walked side-by-side to the nurse's office, and at some point, Hayden reached over to hook their pinkies together. Startled, Tracy looked at her, face flushing pink; Hayden looked steadily back.
"Thanks for caring," she said. Tracy just shrugged, despite the way her heart was knocking against her ribs.
"No big deal."
But it was a big deal. Would never not be a big deal, at least to Tracy. Even six years down the line. Even when she had to watch Hayden drift worlds out of reach, drift towards Liam, of all fucking people.
And sometimes Tracy wanted to pull Hayden aside. Wanted to say, "Do you remember that day he punched you? The day I called you pretty?" But she never did. What would be the point? What would come of it? Nothing, she figured. Nothing at all.
So she started looking for that feeling in other places, darker places, the feeling she'd had after Hayden had grinned at her, young and bloody with stars in her eyes. The sincere belief that she could conquer anything and everything. Tracy chased it so far, so fast, that she wound up with Theo's claws in her back.
(She thought maybe he could love her.)
It wasn't until she was sprawled face-up and lifeless that she really got what she wanted. Hayden crouching beside her. Hayden's hand, the one with the pinky she'd held tight, trailing down her face. Shutting her eyes so she could finally sleep.
"Fuck boys," Hayden rasped.
Maybe in some other universe.