Chapter Text

Sometimes I wonder how we all survive and then I look at my best friends and I go "oh, I survive because I don't want to leave you yet" and it makes sense. Life is so hard a lot of the time, but I want one more bowl of pasta with you.

- unknown

They don’t talk about it.

It’s easier that the whole thing had happened at night during some feverish, drug-induced haze, Mia thinks. It had obscured her memories, made the night blurry, almost amorphous, like a dream within a dream.

Gradually, the details go fuzzy in her head until she can barely remember what has happened: the way she kept running her fingers through Vada’s hair, the soft, warm giggles, how she had shivered when Vada took off her top and kissed her collarbones, her throat, her ribs, how Vada’s fingers—

They don’t talk about it.

1.

The two of them are inseparable for the rest of the year. Best friends, and all that.

Weekdays usually go like this: after driving home from school, they do homework together and order Postmates, mostly Thai or pizza. After dinner, they decide to watch dumb reality shows on TLC, curled up against each other on the couch. Then, as soon as the television is on, they think of a million things to talk about, and everything else is just background noise.

The weekends are even better. They hang out practically every Saturday, even on ones Vada has her therapy sessions. Even on the ones Mia’s dance practice runs late.

Vada always picks her up, usually on the bus or, if her mom has enough time, with the car. This Saturday is no exception. Mia and her teammates are still working on the last few moves of the choreography, when Mia hears her phone ping.

4:39 p.m. (received): we’re here :)

4:45 p.m. (received): hurry your ass up omf

4:47 p.m. (received): amelia and i just convinced mom to get us starbucks and I’M SO HUNGRY DUDE HURRY UP

As Mia reads Vada’s texts, she can practically feel Alexis Williams, one of her teammates, eyeing her suspiciously.


“Who is Mia Reed and what have you done to her?” she asks.

Mia looks up. “What do you mean?”

“You? All smiley and giddy? Who is this mystery man?”

Mia rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Shut up, Alexis. It’s just a friend.” She slings her bag over her shoulder and says goodbye to her teammates. “I gotta go, see you Monday, guys.”

While the rest of the team mumble their goodbyes in return, Alexis yells after her: “Where are you off to so fast, Reed? Hanging out with just a friend?”

Mia just gives her the finger over her shoulder, her eyes glued to her phone. She is still smiling.

2.

On Vada’s birthday, her parents take her to KFC. They tried, Mr. Cavell tells Mia over hot wings and fries, to take her to fancier restaurants when she was younger. But she would never eat anything and at the end of the night, they would always end up at KFC. It’s a birthday tradition, now.

Vada stares at the leftover fries on Mia’s plate after they’re done. “You gonna eat that?”

Mia grins, pushing her plate forward. “Be my guest.”

Vada grins back, takes a fry and dips it in an obscene amount of ketchup and mayo, staring deviously at her the whole time.

Mia gags as Vada pops the fry into her mouth. “You’re disgusting. You actually disgust me.”


Vada proudly takes another fry. “You love me,” she counters with her mouth full.

Mia rolls her eyes. Something shifts inside of her chest. “You wish,” she mumbles, unable to confirm Vada’s words, somehow.

3.

They spend Halloween at home. The two of them are lying on the couch, watching Scary Movie 3, legs casually slung over each other, fingers interlaced, when Vada’s mom walks in. “Mom, can Mia stay over tonight?” Vada asks, not looking up from the movie.

Mrs. Cavell smiles knowingly. “Of course you can, sweetheart. It’s no fun being all alone in that big house during the holidays, is it?”

Mia shakes her head. “Thank you, Mrs. Cavell,” she answers. Vada gives Mia hand a tight squeeze, smiles at her, then returns her attention back to the movie.

“Please just call me Patricia, dear. Mrs. Cavell makes me feel so old,” Mrs. Cavell says.

Amelia, who is watching TikToks on the other end of the couch, sighs exasperatedly. “Mom,” she says, barely looking up from her phone, “You are old.”

Mia knows Mrs. Cavell is worried about her, about her parents, about her upbringing. She never says anything about it, though. Mia is grateful for that. Makes her think that maybe it doesn’t have to be that big of a deal.

4.

In November, Mia decides to go to therapy.

She is a bit wary of therapy, at first. Her therapist Anna, a middle-aged woman with a kind smile and comically large glasses, asks her why.

Mia takes a quivering breath. “I think that—I’m just scared that if I stop and try to make sense of all the stuff in my head—that everything will just—I don’t know—fall apart or something.”

Anna crosses her legs, tilts forward. “You don’t think it has fallen apart already?”

5.

Vada tries to patch things up with Nick. And because they are both willing to, it works. Kind of.

(It doesn’t, not really, not entirely.

Mia discusses it with Anna. She says that she thinks that once a friendship is damaged like that, it will never really be the same. Says that Nick is out there bending the entire world to his will, and that sometimes, things just don’t work out.

She doesn’t say that she doesn’t understand how he is able to do all of that, while Vada and her are watching the same world, watching it change before their eyes behind fifty feet of glass, unable to reach out, unable to touch it.)

6.

Life is still something Mia is trying to relearn.

Some days, Mia has to remind herself that she had a whole life before the shooting, before Vada. That she was a person before this, and that she’ll still be a person after this. That life is only a series of things that have happened, happen and will continue to happen.

Some days, she really, really wants to have a drink.

Some days, better days, most days, Mia realizes it doesn’t hurt that much to think about it anymore.

7.

Mia makes a promise to herself after her sixth therapy session: she is going to allow herself to move forward from now on.

8.

Justin Trugone throws a neon-themed New Year’s rager when his parents are out of town.

They arrive late. Someone offers them champagne, weed and those cheap glowsticks you can bend into jewelry before they have even made it inside.

“What is this? A Wallmart Euphoria party?” Nick scoffs, but Vada and Mia grin at each other and take the glowsticks anyway.

Inside, Nick immediately takes the dance floor, moving his body to a heavy bass-remix of a Taylor Swift song. Mia and Vada decide to get drinks.


“I want nothing to do with... that,” Mia says, gesturing towards Nick.

Vada lets out a snort. “Understandable.” She takes a sip of her sprite. “Okay, this is a pretty cool party,” she admits, looking around.

“Yeah,” Mia says. “I can’t believe you never went to a Justin Trugone party. They’re fucking legendary.”

Vada fiddles with her glow-sticks around her wrist, a cheeky grin on her face. “Do you wanna say I told you so?”

Mia shakes her head. “No,” she breathes out, her voice soft. “I’m just happy you’re happy.”

For a moment, Vada just looks at her. Mia is quiet, the erratic beating of her heart nearly drowning out the sounds of the bass completely. She just wants to reach out and—

“You look pretty tonight,” Vada blurts. “I mean, you always look pretty. You are pretty, obviously. But tonight, with your hair like that, you look—”

Before she can finish her sentence, Nick walks over and drags the two girls to the dance floor. Mia tries not to be upset about it. Emphasis on tries.

“You guys are so boring,” Nick laughs over the sound of the blaring music. “Dance with me!”

And he laughs again, harder and with more vibrato, and Vada holds her hand tighter and kisses her cheek before spinning her around, and Mia’s heart does somersaults. This might be her favorite New Year’s Eve ever, she thinks as they dance and dance and dance until the three of them are all laughing and sweating and spinning uncontrollably, track of time and space completely lost.

“I’m gonna get us more drinks!” Vada yells at one point, and Mia gives her thumbs up. Vada jiggles away as she makes her way to the kitchen, sweat glowing off of her forehead, her eyes bright. Mia turns around, licks her lips once, twice. Tries not to look too long. Emphasis on tries, again.

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, Quinton is standing next to her, sloshing a drink in his hands.

He grins at her. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“What a year, huh?” he yells.

“Yeah,” Mia agrees, not sure what else to say.

Quinton points his finger in Vada’s direction. “It’s cool, how you two get along,” he says. His voice sounds miles away in Mia’s swimming ears.

“What?”

“You and her seem so in sync. Like you’re the same person, or something. Or two parts of the same person.”

Mia tilts her head. Opens her mouth, closes her mouth, tilts her head. She’s at a loss for words.


(In her defense, what the fuck.)

“Are you drunk?” she asks finally.

Quinton laughs, shrugs, brings his cup to his lips. “Yeah. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong, though.”

9.

They come home when it’s already light out. They fall asleep on Mia’s bed, curled up too close.

Vada has always been a restless sleeper, all loud sighs and wild limbs and an insane amount of blanket-hoarding, but tipsy Vada really is something else. Mia wakes up in the middle of the night, half-pinned to the bed, with a mouthful of dark hair and a hand warm against her stomach.

She doesn’t mind. Realizes she kind of likes having Vada’s hand there.

10.

It’s dim in the kitchen, thick drapes still closed. Mia stands at the stove, making breakfast. Vada sits on the counter, opposite of Mia, still half-asleep. She gives Mia a smile. Small, but warm, nonetheless.

Mia squirts butter into the pan. “Eggs?” she asks.

“Scrambled,” Vada confirms, and stretches, one golden ray of sunlight falling on her face through the curtains.

(Mia drinks her coffee while Vada is trying to hashjaefshaw her way through a very hot bite of egg.

“Are you okay?” Mia laughs.

“God, these eggs are fucking heavenly,” Vada says with her mouth full. “You are literally my favorite person in the world, dude.”

Mia smiles, takes another sip of coffee. “You’re mine, too.”

It’s going to be a good year, she decides. A very, very good year.)

Chapter Text

-1.

It happened like this:

Mia is lying on the ground, staring up at the ceiling, floating.

Vada asks her what’s she’s thinking about.

“I can’t say it,” Mia admits, her heart burning up. Her world is hazy and slippery around the edges, blurry, a strange in-between place and she can’t find the right words on her tongue, terrified of ruining it before it has even started.

But then Vada’s eyes dart to Mia’s lips and back and suddenly, her face is coming closer and closer and their noses almost bump and Mia’s breath hitches in her throat, and then -

Then, they are kissing.

Vada’s lips brush against her softly, tentative and languid, and it’s heaven.

She pulls back slightly, eyes wide. “Is this okay?”

Mia nods, and suddenly, they’re kissing again.

Vada wastes no time and climbs on top of her, straddling her hips, and Mia can’t help but press her hand against Vada’s bicep, running it up and down. She tangles her other hand in the hair at the back of Vada’s neck as she deepens the kiss.

They lift themselves up from the floor, barely not kissing. Vada’s hands are on her shoulders to steady herself and Mia’s hands slide to rest against Vada, one still in her hair and the other one slipping under her shirt to touch the heated skin underneath.

After her best friend brings her hands to Mia’s top and pulls the fabric over her head, she brings her warm lips up to her neck, licking the column of her throat, trailing the tip of her tongue down to her collarbone, curling over her ribs, her stomach, everywhere.

It makes Mia’s heart burn in her throat.

As Vada’s hand falls to the inside of Mia’s thigh, her entire body shudders. She closes her eyes, and as she opens them, she can see Vada looking at her, slightly dazed, slightly in awe. “Do you wanna -”

“Yes,” Mia answers, breathless, because she does. Want to.

Vada smiles as she pulls her onto Mia’s bed, her fingers inching up higher on her thighs. She curls her thumb over the hem of her jeans. Mia starts unfastening the button at the top of her jeans and slides Vada’s hand down her underwear.

Mia rolls her hips once, twice, guiding Vada through.

“Does this feel good?” Vada mumbles, biting her lip.

Mia shudders, nods, and then Vada does it again and again.

Mia’s heart is overflowing with warmth and feeling and something glowing and beautiful and more, more, more and she then thinks, right there, yes, right there, until her breath catches in her throat, until she can feel her toes curling, her chest heaving.

Vada blinks, eyes dazed. “Oh my God, did you just…” she says quietly.

Mia has to take a few moments to catch her breath, her heart still hammering against her ribcage. “Yeah,” she breathes.

Vada hums, licking her lips. “Oh.”

And then they fall asleep together.

(It still makes Mia’s cheeks burn, thinking about it. There’s this sick twisting of her tummy, something heavy that sits at the pit of her stomach that might be guilt or shame or embarrassment or something else altogether.

Like fear, she thinks sometimes. Anxiety. Or repulsion.

Or, worse: confusion.

Or (and this is by far the worst one, the one she almost never thinks): desire.

Like a tug at her stomach, her veins on fire, a solid burning ripping right through her body.

Like something she would wanna do again).

11.

They spend Valentine’s Day together. Because, really, Vada had said, boys are so dumb, and Mia had agreed whole-heartedly.

They buy a shit-ton of Valentine’s candy from the dollar store, spread it all out on Mia’s bed, make caramel-sea salt popcorn, spread that out on Mia’s bed as well, and spend the rest of the day in bed watching dumb comedy shows with the curtains closed.

Currently, the TV is playing the episode of Friends where Joey and Chandler lose Ross’ baby, and Mia is in the middle of venting about a dance move she just can’t seem to get right.

“I constantly fuck up the arms, and it’s really frustrating,” she sighs, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Coach even threatened to make me switch places with Elena, and you know, maybe he should. She would be a great principal. She’s way prettier than me, anyway.”

Vada’s eyes grow wide. “Oh come on, dude,” she says, gesturing at Mia’s body, “Have you seen you?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious!” Vada argues, now laughing. “You are literally the hottest person I know. I don’t know who Elena is, and I’m sure she’s great and all, but she is no Mia Reed!”

Mia gives her a bashful smile. She reaches over and grabs a pack of pastel-colored heart-shaped Sweet Tarts.

“Want one?” she asks, offering the box to the dark-haired girl.

“Yesss,” she says, hissing the S. “I fucking love Sweet Tarts. Thanks.”

She opens her hand so Mia can drop one into it.

“What does it say?” Mia asks.

Vada lowers her hand and peers at the pink conversation heart in the palm of her hand, looking closely. “Uhm. Kiss me.”

Mia whips her head so quickly she can hear it snap.

“On the heart. It says. Kiss me.”

“Oh,” Mia manages. “Yeah, of course.”

Fuck, she thinks, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Yours?”

Mia quickly peers down, thankful that Vada doesn’t seem to notice her red cheeks. “Mine says Forever.”

Vada gives her a warm smile. “Okay, that’s actually really cute. I like that.”

“Me too.” Mia smiles back. “I mean, we are, right?”


“Of course, dude. You’re stuck with me for eternity now, I don’t make the rules.”

Mia snorts softly at that. “You make it sound like a punishment.”

Vada grabs another conversation heart and pops it into her mouth. “Okay, yeah, good point.” She munches on the candy for a while before saying, “Seriously, though, you are stuck with me forever. I can’t wait for us to be gross old ladies together.”

And like the complete idiot she is, Mia’s heart honest-to-god jumps at hearing those words.

“Me neither,” she says.

12.

Anna says this: that’s the thing about trauma: logically, you know it’s trauma. You can recognize the fear inside of your body, rationalize that the images you are seeing are memories twisted into their extremes, can repeat this to yourself, over and over and over.

Anna says this: it’s still every-fucking-where, isn’t it?

(Mia talks about other things with Anna, too.

Her parents (or rather: the absence of), school, good Netflix shows they both watch, dancing, Vada.

“I think I might like someone,” Mia tells Anna one day, her throat dry, her cheeks burning up. “Like like. You know?”

Anna grins. “Ah, young love. Wanna tell me about it?”)

13.

“Close your eyes,” Mia says. She leans forward, hovering over Vada’s face with her make-up brush. Her entire body is warm and tingling, and she can’t stop giggling.

The two of them are lying down on Vada’s bed, Mia’s legs resting on either side of Vada’s hips, eye shadow palette spread out next to them. Nick is lying down on the carpet, browsing through an old Teen Cosmo, waiting for Mia to do his make-up next.

Mia hovers closer to Vada’s face again and makes gentle strokes with the make-up brush. Her heart keeps fluttering in her chest, staring at Vada’s closed eyes, her freckles, her gentle smile, the rest of her features.

Nick is currently flipping through a very extensive Never Have I Ever-quiz from the magazine. “Never have I ever had braces,” he reads. “Ew, no.”

“Hey!” Vada argues, propping herself up on her elbows. “That’s rude. I had braces. You know I had braces.”

“Hold still,” Mia murmurs, grabbing her chin a little more firmly, grazing over her eyelids with her brush. “Almost done.”

“Okay, here’s a good one,” Nick says, reading out loud. “Never have I ever kissed somebody I regret.”

Mia swears her heart stops in her chest at those words.

“Do you remember Cole from ninth grade?” Nick says, not sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere. “God, he was so hot, but such a bad kisser. I’m not even joking when I say that he actually kissed my teeth. It’s such a shame, don’t you think? God blessed that guy with so much beauty, but he can’t put it to use.” Nick sighs. “What about you, V?”

Vada shrugs, eyes still closed. “I don’t think I regret kissing anyone.”

Nick raises his eyebrow. “Really, not even Quinton?”

It feels like someone popped a balloon in Mia’s chest. Her hand stills.

Nick has a shit-eating grin on his face, casually waiting for an answer, and Mia knows she would probably also think it was funny if it wasn’t so devastating, knows he means no harm, but that doesn’t mean his words don’t fucking hurt.

“You kissed Quinton?” she manages, fast, before she can convince herself not to. “You fucking kissed Quinton?”

(After Nick leaves, the two of them are left with the mess.

“You kissed Quinton,” Mia says, matter-of-factly. The words taste dirty on her tongue, but for some reason, she can’t stop saying them.

Vada averts her eyes. “Yeah.”

“When?”

“The day after we…”

Mia feels queasy and off-balance, and she doesn’t know if it’s shame or anger or jealousy.

“But like, as a friend?”

“Um. No. It wasn’t. It was—” Vada bites her lip. “Not as a friend. We kissed, for like—a solid amount of time. I think. Yeah.”

Tears start pricking behind Mia’s eyes.

“Mia,” Vada says. “I’m so—”

“I’m not mad at you for kissing him,” Mia interrupts her, the first tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m mad at you for not telling me you kissed him.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Mia,” Vada says, and she is crying too. “I just—I’m so sorry.”

“I think I want you to leave.”

“Mia.”

“Please. Leave.”)

14.

Mia cries. Mia cries a lot.

She’s crying all day - on the kitchen floor, in bed, in the shower, on the couch.

She doesn’t think she has ever cried this much in her life.

(Anna says this: this is normal. You haven’t cried in a very long time. This is a long-term effect of your PTSD. Let it all out, Mia. Let it all out.

Anna says this: you know, things might look a little bleak right now, but trust me when I say that this isn’t the end of —)

15.

Mia says this: fuck you, fuck off. You don’t know shit about my life.

Chapter Text

16.

It takes Vada five-and-a-half days to apologize.

Weirdly, it takes Nick less than that. He corners Mia in the hall after biology and drags her into an empty classroom and suddenly, there’s a waterfall of apologies spilling out of his mouth.

Mia is still tense and agitated about the whole thing, but she doesn’t really think he has anything to apologize for, and tells him so.

“Yeah, well.” His face seizes up. “I’m still sorry. Me and my big mouth, just blabbing all over town.”

She is surprised by his words. “Thanks.”

They are both silent for a moment, staring at each other, not quite knowing what to say.

Then, Nick tilts his head. His eyebrows do something funny. “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer.” He pauses. “Though I feel like if you don’t say anything, you kind of give me an answer, too,” he adds, with a grin on his face.

Mia laughs a little, uncertain. “Sure.”

“Do you like her?”

“Who?”

Nick rolls his eyes. “Vada. Duh.”

Somehow, that is not what Mia expected. Like, at all. Her first thought is, fuck, and then fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

And then she thinks of literally a thousand things simultaneously: I don’t know and yes I do and we had sex and I liked it, like really, really liked it and I don’t wanna fuck up the only friendship I have and, and—

And then she starts crying.

Nicks eyes bulge out of his sockets, seemingly realizing what he has done. “Oh, shit,” he says. “Please don’t cry. Oh my goodness, please don’t cry, Mia.”

Mia lets out a sob.

“Oh Mia,” he continues, “I’m so sorry for asking. What was I thinking? Fuck. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Please don’t cry. I feel so bad. Oh my God—”

“You didn’t make me cry,” Mia manages to interject. “I promise.”

He kind of did, but that’s not the point.

Nick looks at her funnily and for a second Mia thinks he might start crying too, but instead he moves forward and pulls her into a tight hug.

“Jesus,” Mia mumbles into his neck, tears still streaming down her face. “You’re—squeezing—”

“Yeah,” Nick replies. “We’re hugging. Get over it.”

(“So this is what people talk about when they talk about MLM-WLW solidarity,” Nick mumbles into Mia’s top.

“Shut up,” Mia mumbles back, smiling for the first time in days.)

17.

Mia doesn’t plan on kissing Vada, she really doesn’t.

She doesn’t even plan on letting Vada into her house, but then Vada shows up with a big box of Mia’s favorite pizza place and these tired, swollen eyes that make Mia want to, well, let Vada into her house. So she does.

“I’m sorry,” Vada starts softly as Mia sits down on one of the barstools in the kitchen. “I’m so sorry. You have every right to be angry with me.”

Mia meets Vada’s teary eyes for a second only to look away quickly. She can’t handle that right now.

Vada continues. “I promise, it’s not like I didn’t wanna tell you that I kissed Quinton, it’s just—”

Mia folds her arms across her chest. “It’s just what?”

She is trying to be nonchalant, trying to sound frustrated, but she’s pretty sure Vada can still see her nervousness all around.

She folds her arms tighter.

“I just panicked, okay?” Vada’s eyes flit over Mia’s face, all focused and intent. Her voice is barely more than a whisper as she says, “I was afraid to lose you. You’re, like, the best thing that happened to me. Like, ever. And you were so fucked up when I came to your house the night after we… and I just—”

“What? You thought I couldn’t handle it?”

Vada’s eyes grow large. “No! I just… regret kissing him. That’s all. I panicked about how to tell you, because I regretted it. That’s the only reason I didn’t tell you that day. You have to believe me.”

Mia breathes out. “Oh.”

She wasn’t expecting that. She also wasn’t expecting to suddenly feel like she’s been hit over the head with a mallet.

“Yeah,” Vada admits quietly. She seems to want to reach out to Mia, then thinks the better of it, and changes course to wipe her eyes on her shirtsleeve.

Mia clears her throat. “So, uhm. You regret kissing Quinton,” she says.


This can’t be happening, she thinks. This can’t actually be happening.

Vada bites her lip. Nods.

Mia swallows hard. Her heart burns in her throat and she can’t seem to look at Vada. “But—that day. You told me you didn’t regret—what we did.”

Vada’s eyes grow so large Mia is genuinely afraid they might pop out of their sockets. She makes a high-pitched noise in the back of her throat before nodding.

“Did you mean it?” Mia says, and she hates the way her voice shakes.

Vada softens. She sits down next to Mia, pulls her knees up and puts an arm around herself.

“Of course I meant it,” she replies with a little smile. “Okay, yes, I was a little weirded out at first, but I’m… I’m glad you were my first. I didn’t regret it. It was… nice.”

Vada reaches out for Mia’s hand, and gives it a little squeeze. Mia squeezes back. “I’m glad you were my first, too.”

A quiet, breathless laugh escapes from Vada’s mouth. “We’ve never really talked about it, have we?”

Mia shakes her head, tries on a smile too. Her heart is hammering in her chest.

“It was enough for me to realize I like girls, too, though,” Vada says, half-joking.

Mia feels like she’s gonna throw up. “You like girls?” she stammers, and her eyes are suddenly fixated on Vada’s lips.

“Well… yeah, I guess. Not historically. But—I don’t know. I don’t really know how I feel. But I—um…” Vada swallows, and laughs a little tentatively, a little breathlessly. “I like...”

Mia is so busy staring at her mouth that she almost doesn’t recognize that there are words coming out of it.

“You like me,” Mia says finally, before her head catches up with her heart and she can’t speak anymore.

We are close, Mia realizes. When did we get so close to one another? She looks up, her nose nudging against Vada’s. Vada is staring into her eyes, intent on them, warm and focused.

For one fleeting moment, barely more than a second, Mia is certain she has never been this fucking happy in her entire fucking life, because her best friend is sitting across from her in nothing but a top and shorts, biting her lip, the tips of her ears turning red, the apples of her cheeks, and she’s looking at Mia like there isn’t anything else to look at in the world.

And then, then Mia reaches up to kiss Vada.

18.

Patrick tells Johnny, who tells Rachel, who tells Mariana, who tells Nick, who then tells Vada that everyone at school knows they’re together.

It doesn’t really bother Mia (it bothers her even less than she thought it would. Vada tells her that maybe not caring about this sort of stuff anymore is in her genes. You know. Gay dads, and all), but she wonders how people found out all the same. Nothing really changes about the two of them on the outside, except that they hold hands in the hallway now, sometimes.

(Well… that’s not all that changes. They make out, like, a lot. When Vada sleeps over, after dance practice, at the movies, when they both have a free period.

Oh my God, there was this one particular time where Vada had yanked Mia into an empty classroom and they had spent almost the entire hour doing—

Ahum. Off topic.

Okay, now that Mia thinks about it, really thinks about it, she guesses someone probably must have seen them.

She touches the small red-purple bruise on the underside of her jaw, winces, and blushes a dark shade of red.

Yeah, never mind. They’re probably not that subtle).

19.

Summer is almost over.

Mia is sunbathing on one of the chairs on her lawn, Vada is lying in the grass. She occasionally takes a small sip of Diet Pepsi that’s she balances on her stomach afterwards. Her oversized shirt is riding up over her thighs, so that Mia can see her neon-green bikini bottom underneath.

“Are you excited for college?” Vada asks.

Mia tilts her head to look at her girlfriend. “God, yes. I can’t wait for us to be roomies at Berkeley together.” She can’t help but smile at the thought. “What about you?”

“Honestly? I can’t wait,” Vada answers. “This is gonna be the best year ever. My parents are freaking the fuck out, though.”

“Of course they are.”

“Yeah. Mostly my mom. My dad’s kind of chill about it. But my mom’s convinced the two of us are gonna move to New York and never gonna come back.”

Mia snorts. “New York could be cool.”

She considers the rest of Vada’s answer. “Do you think we’ll ever come back?” she asks, propping herself up on her elbows.

“I don’t know,” Vada shrugs. She takes a sip of Pepsi. “I can’t just leave Amelia.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“But when she’s older, I don’t know. I’d like to see the world, you know? Go places, do things, meet people. What about you?”

Mia half-shrugs. “I’ll just go where you go, I think.”

“Really?”

Mia closes her eyes, smiles. “Yeah. I’d follow you anywhere.”

Vada stands up, leans over and covers Mia’s mouth with her own.

“I love you,” Mia murmurs. She can’t help herself. The words roll off her tongue so easily, and it feels so foreign and unnatural and exhilarating and right all at once and—

Vada smiles into the kiss. “I love you too.”

20.

7:19 p.m. (received): link to YouTube Video [oh my god they were ROOMMATES vine]
 

7:23 p.m. (sent): i hate you from the bottom of my heart