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This is bad. This is so bad. Fuck.
Can Kris hear her pacing? Do they worry about her mumbling? Or the frustrated sighs which come immediately before the whine of bed-springs? Have they been counting the minutes since the door was slammed in their face and decided that she’s taking way too long? Are they considering opening the door, just to see what all the fuss is about?
Maybe.
“Kris, if you open that fucking door, I will kill you,” she threatens, voice low but threats woefully hollow. “I’ll rip your face off. Pummel you into a ball. Pull out your spine. Do not open that door.”
Right about now, Kris is definitely giving her a smug smile. They’ve definitely curled up their fists in eager anticipation as they wait just the right amount of time to deliver the blow, like the absolute asshole they are. Usually, Susie can deal with that– you can’t say something stupid in a battle if you don’t say anything at all. It’s one less liability. But here and now, it is not the time or place to be so shit-eatingly silent.
The floorboards whisper taunts on the other side of the door. As does the soft wobble of the doorknob, which places yet another weight on Susie’s chest, that just… stays there, waiting for the door to open anyway. (That's her rule: the door opens whenever you don’t want it to.)
But there’s no scream of the hinges. What normally follows that weight… never comes. Instead, what does come is a single word, spoken calmly through the tiny space between the door and the doorframe:
“Coward.”
“Shut the hell up!” Susie snaps, just a little bit too loudly that it immediately reminds her that Toriel is down the hall in the kitchen. Quieter, she continues, “You– fine. Fucking fine. See how it looks if you want to be so– aggravating.”
Susie opens the door in a single swift, forceful motion. The very last thing she needs is a slow, grand reveal of Kris’ unimpressed face. She’s not a coward, okay? And if she has to stand in the middle of Kris’ room, stupidly awaiting their stupid opinion on how Noelle will think she looks in their brother’s suit like a grade-A, top-notch doofus to prove it, then so be it. She’s not a coward.
While Susie taps her boot on the floor and fiddles with the cuff of the dress shirt’s sleeve (under the assumption Toriel can fix it if her claw rips it, because goats… have claws to rip things, right? Like Ralsei?), Kris simply raises their hand to their chin and ponders the sight in front of them. They tilt their head slightly, and take half a step back, and they don’t even flinch when a timer goes off in the kitchen. They just spend another million seconds in silence before giving their very thorough review:
“Looks good.”
Susie’s deathgrip on her cuffs loosens a fair bit, but she doesn’t let go. Not when the tension of irritation sinks into her jaws, and she just barely keeps herself at a simmer to ask, “That’s it? Seriously?”
A single nod.
“Well,” she huffs, “Do you think Noelle will like it? I mean, you know. That’s what matters most, honestly.” And then it dawns on her, and her face drops to her red tie. “Wait, didn’t you say her dress is green? Should I get a green tie to match? Is that too tacky, or is it the good Noelle level of tacky? You know how tacky she is. In a good way. You know what I mean. Green or red tie?”
Kris purses their lips in thought. Why do they have to think so fucking slowly?
“Green tie,” they decide. “Red is too bright.”
Susie throws her hands up. “Thank you! That is some genuinely helpful feedback. Got any more?”
Maybe Susie’s sarcastic grin was too conceited, too soon, because with their hands on their hips, all too threateningly, Kris instantly humbles her by asking, “Should I get my mom?”
“Do not get Toriel. Look, see? The suit fits and it looks nice and presentable. That’s all I came here for. So get out,” Susie steps forward, readying herself to push Kris back out the door where they belong, “and I’ll be on my way.”
“You cannot leave without some pie!” Calls a dreadful voice. Toriel’s approaching shadow is present before her actual figure as she hastily adds, “I am sorry, dear, I could not help but eavesdrop a little, what with your volume and all. I was just…”
She stops in the doorway, a small plate of cinnamon pie in each of her hands. The speechlessness lasts for a brief moment, until she almost frantically places them both on the table behind Asriel’s old computer and crosses over to Susie with gleaming eyes.
“Oh my goodness! You look lovely!” She puts her hands on Susie’s shoulders, then begins smoothing down the sleeves. “I will iron this dress shirt, even if that may be a little unnecessary. There is no such thing as a dress shirt being too ironed– well, unless it is burned, of course,” Toriel laughs to herself, something akin to a hum, before she steps back and clasps her hands. “It was practically yesterday that Asriel wore that to his graduation. And it has not been worn since, so it is in excellent condition. It suits you wonderfully, Susie! Hah.”
Behind their mother, Kris offers a supportive smile and a thumbs up. But in front of her, Susie can only bow her head sheepishly and muster up a very lackluster, “Um, thanks.”
Toriel takes it in stride. “Of course, dear! You and Noelle will truly take the cake at the dance– and you and Kris will take the pie right now, after you change back into your regular clothes.” She pivots on her heel and takes the plates in her hands once more, exiting and calling from the hallway: “Come on, Kris! Leave her alone!”
Kris swivels their body towards the door, then turns their head back to their friend. Without a word, they give Susie two thumbs up and closes the door behind themself. In a second they’re nothing more than retreating footsteps on the other side of the door.
Immediately she collapses onto Kris’ bed, releasing a heavy sigh; and with it, a bit of the weight on her chest. Prom will be good. Great, even, with Noelle by her side. It will further cement that jumping out of the second story of the Holiday residence in the dead of winter, and getting thoroughly scolded by Kris’ dad for stealing his truck to take Noelle for a drive, and eating a spider in class because Kris said it would impress Noelle, were all one hundred percent, absolutely worth it. Maybe wearing Kris’ brother’s old suit is not the end of the world. Maybe it’s just a really small price to pay.
Written on a whiteboard is a list of three words: unoriginal, stupid, vague. Written right above it is the title: Qualities of a Bad Promposal.
Wordlessly, using the pointer finger stick they took from Toriel’s classroom, Kris points to the empty whiteboard space beside the list. There is a single lonely bullet point, lacking any words beside it. So Kris impatiently tap-tap-tap-taps the whiteboard, which has the same effect as Berdly snapping in your face to get your attention (aggravation).
“I have ideas,” Susie says, staring at the list from her spot on Kris’ bed, “They’re just bad ones.”
Kris shrugs. “List them off. Go from there.”
“Fine. If you fucking insist.” With a sharp eyeroll she leans forward, counting on her hands as she begins, “My first idea is that I would write something on the tag of my jacket. After giving it to her.”
Silently, Kris points to stupid.
“What the fuck? What’s wrong with that idea?” Susie nearly shouts and throws her hands up in the air. “Giving a girl your jacket is fucking classic, Kris. It’s in every movie worth watching. And she’ll never see it coming. Please enlighten me as to how that’s such a stupid idea.”
They drop the end of the pointer finger stick from the board and take it in their hand. “It’s May. She will not be cold.”
Susie crosses her arms. “Fine. That’s why I wasn’t gonna do it, anyway. Obviously. My other idea was to give her, um, four little ornaments. With each letter of prom on it. And she would unscramble them, because she’s smart, you know?” Kris points to vague. “Fair enough.”
Still, Kris writes the ideas on the whiteboard in their too-small, cramped, chicken scratch handwriting. As if they’re even somewhat worthwhile. And Susie continues listing off her ideas, because executing a bad idea is better than wimping out.
“Tying a ribbon with a note around one of her antlers while she isn’t looking. And then waiting for her to find it later. So I don’t even have to say anything.” Kris points to vague. “Actually, uh… yeah. Because then she’ll have to come to me afterward, and that’ll be too awkward. I don’t want that.”
“Um… when she’s watching a horror movie, I could say I’m going to the bathroom, then leave, then bang on her window with a sign.” Kris points to stupid. “What? You know she likes being scared! That’s not that bad of an idea!”
“It is.” And yet, they still write it on the board.
“Oh– go to hell! You’re so quick to judge my ideas but you haven’t thrown out any of your own!” Susie snaps. “So what’s your great idea, fucking wise guy?”
Admittedly, it is a good idea. The explanation of the plot– and why it is not unoriginal, stupid, or vague– is probably the most Kris has spoken for the past three weeks. They smack the end of the pointy finger stick against the whiteboard one, two, three times as they debunk every possible flaw in their idea. At the end they ask Susie to repeat it back to them, just to make sure she got it all.
However, there is just one problem: Susie has to find Noelle out of the classroom during the class period, which does not happen often. But Kris had accounted for that, and promised Susie they’d give Noelle a good excuse to leave. It can’t go wrong, they said.
Except that it can go wrong, and it does, when the classroom door swings open and Susie’s anticipation completely fucking disappears in a split second. Frantically, she shoves her hand in her pocket, along with the little piece of paper it holds. “What– where’s Noelle?”
“Skipping class again, I see… classic delinquent activity,” Berdly squints and shakes his head with disdain, even letting out a small tsk-tsk. “Unlike some of us, Noelle is in class, explaining the plot of Dragon Blazers to Ms. Alphys. She was asking about it, since Kris so loudly announced to the class that a new version was coming out today on console!”
Susie stares at him. That’s the distraction Kris prepared?
“As the resident gamer, I saw it simply fitting that I be the first to try it out. So farewell, Susan,” Berdly shrugs, “world-class gaming awaits!”
Before Susie can get a word in, Berdly’s halfway down the hall. She’s left standing there, foot propped up against the locker like a top-notch doofus.
The next day is… no luck. After twenty-five minutes of waiting, Susie gets bored and heads to the diner. The day after that, she actually attends class with her head bowed low, because the background noise of Ms. Alphys’ clumsy, nervous stuttering is better than nothing to get her mind off last night’s especially exhausting household events. When class ends, Susie is the first out the door.
The day after that– the second-to-last Friday before the junior prom itself, Kris had reminded her– is a little more successful. This time, the classroom door swings open (slower, gentler) and Susie’s anticipation does not disappear in an instant.
“Oh! Susie!” Noelle takes half a step back with a small laugh, adjusting the collar of her shirt under her sweater vest. “You’re, uh, skipping class again?”
“Um, actually, I, uh…” Susie sputters, cursing under her breath as she fumbles to take hold of the little note in her little jean pocket. “I got a hall pass.”
Noelle grins, all wide and toothy (and maybe it crosses Susie’s mind that she’d be okay with the world spontaneously combusting at this moment if it meant this was the last sight she ever saw). “Since when do you bother with hall passes? Are you learning the art of being a teacher’s pet?”
“Oh, fuck no,” Susie denies, more harshly than intended. Upon seeing Noelle smile even harder, she is reminded of her very important task, and quickly forces out: “Look. Uh, here’s the hall pass. Since you don’t believe me.”
“I believe you!” And then Noelle softly laughs, and– seriously. Even if it’s getting in the way of the mission, she needs to do that more often. “Seriously, I do! And I think it’s nice you’re improving your attendance, even just a little bit. That goes on your permanent record, you know.”
“Noelle, just– read it.” Susie practically shoves the note into Noelle’s hands, awaiting her reaction and staring intently.
“Sheesh! Fine. What’s this say? Will you, Noelle…” she trails off, ears flicking back as she brings the note closer to her face, as if needing to confirm that it says what she thinks it does. When she looks back up, her eyes shine with something that Susie can’t quite place. “Are you… do you really…?”
“Is that a yes or a no?” Susie shoves her hands into her pocket. “Because, uh, I’d like to know if I’ll need to get a refund on those tickets–”
“Yes!” Noelle shouts, immediately noticing her volume and frantically covering her mouth for a brief moment before uncovering it and continuing, quieter: “Uh, yes. Absolutely. One hundred percent. Um, I… have to go. Now. But yes! Totally. Okay. I’m gonna go. Be at my house at, uh, seven-thirty the night of. Bye!”
The clack of her hooves on the floor echoes through the hall as she sprints away at a pace faster than Susie has ever seen. Once she’s turned the corner, Susie hangs her head with a sigh of pure relief. And when she raises it once more at the creak of the door, she is greeted with Kris’ bangs and an unmistakable thumbs up.
One time, Noelle had told Susie that people usually carry a lot of unneeded tension in their shoulders.
She thinks about that now, as the door slams behind her. Suddenly she’s aware of the tension in her shoulders– and the tension in other places, like her curled fists, her clenched jaw, her constricted ribs. But mainly her shoulders. And thankfully, the door closing means the worst part is over, so she can finally release a breath when she catches sight of the car that sits in her crumbly driveway.
As she approaches the car, she glances at the silhouette behind the old, taped-up living room curtains. Clearly Toriel does the same, because as soon as the door is shut she asks, with awfully good intentions, “Who was that, dear? One of your parents? Because it would be a pleasure to make their acquaintance.”
With a clenched jaw and the sourness of undeniably venomous contempt, Susie simply answers: “My aunt. Go.”
She stares straight ahead to avoid Toriel’s glance, which she is positive just reeks with concern (even if she insisted on picking up Susie). But there’s no reason at all to be concerned. Seriously. There have been better days, but there have also been worse days. It was just words this time, words that can and will be brushed off like fucking dirt for the sake of a nice night.
It’s gonna be a nice night. This car ride, all of its awkward silence, is just a… slow start. Which picks up a little bit when they arrive at the Dreemurr residence and Toriel explains that the suit is laid out on Kris’ bed, and that she will be taking pictures of both of them for her scrapbook.
Luckily, it appears Kris had fulfilled the request for a green tie. Even luckier, Susie had obtained the foresight to search up how to tie them– she even practiced, which is what made it sink in how fucking serious she is about this. If it wasn’t already obvious. She also considered wearing fancier shoes, but… nah, fuck it. Hers are much more comfortable.
When she takes a deep breath and steps out of the bedroom, Toriel… just about fucking loses her mind. She eagerly ushers Susie over to the front door with a camera in her hand, offering a wildly exaggerated smile before ducking behind it to take the picture. Given by the amount of times she clicks the button, she takes at least seven. Then she ushers in Kris as well, clad in a very similar outfit but without any tie. They smile, even if it’s just for the scrapbook.
(And, look– if Kris will smile for a nice picture, then Susie will, too. She might be a dick, but she’s not a complete dick. She’s got morals, too.)
Toriel smiles fondly as she scrolls through the pictures on her camera. She does so for just a minute, but definitely would’ve for much longer if Kris hadn’t said that they need to get going. To which Toriel practically jumps out of her chair and pulls them each in for an embrace, then urges them out the door and down the driveway. On the very short walk to Noelle’s house, Susie can look back and just barely catch sight of a thumbs up.
Susie is greeted by the red-green wreath of the Holiday residence exactly one minute late. That’s fine, really. Truly. All she has to do is knock, and–
“Susie! You’re right on time,” Noelle opens the door quickly, almost frantically, as the ruffles of her fluffy dress still swish after such a sudden stop. “And you, uh, look really good! Yes. I like your tie, especially. Contrasts your skin tone nicely, because green is the invert of pink, and…” She stops, as if sensing her rambling is lost on Susie– most of it is, to be fair, except for the green tie part, because of course the green tie was a fucking awesome idea– and instead steps to the side and openly gestures to the rest of her home. “Come on in! Uh, my mother is right in the other room. She’ll drive us.”
“Oh, we can’t… walk?” Fuck. Does that make it sound too much like she’s trying to avoid Noelle’s mom?
As Susie steps in, Noelle leans in close and softly whispers, “I asked the same thing. She insists. Just go with it, okay?”
For the briefest flash of a second, their eyes meet; and with her bangs brushed away to each side, the glint of worry in her eyes is more obvious than ever. So Susie nods.
Mayor Holiday, when she arrives after nearly ten minutes of anxious waiting, appears very… put together. Collected. Calm, to an… unsettling degree. Her gaze feels like a fucking lazer as she studies Susie, eerily silent. She might be one of those people who constantly look judgmental. Or maybe she’s purposely trying to appear as critical as possible to make sure Susie doesn’t crack under the pressure. Which won’t happen, obviously.
“The elusive Susie finally makes an appearance,” Mayor Holiday comments. “I’ve heard… things about you.”
“Um, thank… thank you… ma’am?” Fuck!
With a hum, she smooths her unwrinkled blazer. “Of course. I’d hate for my daughter to be involved with someone who’s earned a reputation for being a bully.”
“Me? A bully?” Susie scoffs. ”Absolutely not. Don’t let the sharp teeth fool you, ma’am, I don’t even know the definition of violence.” The joke falls flat. Fuck, it falls so flat, so hastily she adds, “I’m kidding. I know what it means. It just… isn’t me.”
“Okay!” Noelle claps her hands and nervously laughs, “Enough of all this talk of, um, reputations and whatnot. Surely, mother, you know those can be quite deceiving. It’s like Dad always says! You don’t really meet someone until you spend some time with them, right?”
Susie probably nods way too hard. And it’s also quite obvious how she fiddles with the cuffs of her sleeve at her side. Fortunately, Mayor Holiday decides not to comment on those things. Instead, she agrees evenly: “Yes, your father is right. Reputations are fragile and easily manipulated.”
“So it’s best that we don’t dwell on those, right? Let fallen dogs lie?” Noelle’s ears flick back three times rapidly, faster than they had the other day. And she smiles sweetly, but it looks… rehearsed. Her nose isn’t scrunched up like it always is when she grins. Her eyes are too open, and her smile is too wide.
Her mother lowers her brows in deep disapproval, and Noelle deflates the smallest bit. There is a long pause where not a single word is exchanged between the two, leaving Susie to glance between them like a top-notch doofus.
“Fine,” Mayor Holiday finally resolves. “Then we should go. Arriving at events early and punctually is one of the greatest measurements of professionalism.”
The car ride feels like a million years. It’s dead silent, save for the faint song that plays on the radio; Susie can’t even tell what song it is. And, to be completely honest, she doesn’t exactly care, not when Noelle holds onto her arm like her life depends on it, and Noelle’s mother shoots Susie death glares in the mirror. If looks could kill, she probably would have exploded by now.
There’s an undeniable pang of panic just under Susie’s skin when Mayor Holiday stops the car. She has to remind herself that she will not die. She’ll be just fine.
“Noelle, could I have a word with Susie?” The request is chilling, and her words are sharp.
“But mother, it’s about to st–”
“Noelle. Please.”
Noelle sighs, opens the car door, and sends Susie a look of apology just before stepping out and slamming the door behind her. (It would be a lie to say the slam didn’t make Susie flinch a little.)
Then Mayor Holiday turns back to face Susie. With piercing eyes and fatally venomous contempt seething into every word, she warns: “I’m going to assume the best of you, and say that you haven’t made the mistake of taking me for a fool, Susie. Noelle is too smart to be so smitten over a complete imbecile. Still, it would be beneficial to give it to you straight– I’m tolerating this for my daughter’s sake. Consider laying a finger on her, and you’ll wish you didn’t. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have to say this, but perhaps you need to hear it. Now leave.”
Susie would have liked to get a word of defense in. Actually, she would have preferred to pummel Mayor Holiday’s stupid antlers into the ground, but unfortunately, neither of those things could happen. This can still be a nice night, if she just keeps her hands to herself and her fucking mouth shut.
Which she manages quite nicely, in fact, as she only lets out a frustrated huff when she opens the car door. Her jaw is still clenched with aggravation as she approaches Noelle, who leans on one of the pillars just outside the school door.
“I’m sorry about that,” she begins, getting off the pillar and walking beside Susie into the school. “She wasn’t too mean to you, was she?”
“It was fine,” Susie answers, because the very last thing she wants is to be the source of Noelle’s distress, even indirectly. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
Noelle opens her mouth to speak, but immediately clamps it shut. Once again, she loops her arm around Susie’s and holds on tight.
Junior prom is lame. The lights in the gym are off, probably in hopes that you wouldn’t be able to see the lackluster decorations. There’s a big archway and banner a few feet from the entrance. Lonely streamers are scattered around the high ceiling, and only some of the tables have tablecloths. There is a dance floor, but it’s entirely empty except for Temmie, dancing alone in the corner. She looks content with herself.
At a table is Kris, with their head boredly propped up in their hands, and Berdly, raving passionately about… something.
“Because as it turns out, sticking up for himself was the manliest thing of all!” Berdly seems to conclude, pointing up into the air triumphantly. Upon noticing the two who had appeared behind Kris, he greets, “Susan! How peculiar it is to see you’d bother coming to such an event!”
“Don’t get used to it,” Susie replies. “I just came to save Kris from a slow and painful death and get free food on the way.”
(Kris turns in their seat, and mouths a subtle but desperate thank you, to which Susie nods.)
“Um, I’m surprised you came, Berdly!” Noelle says. “Do you have, uh, a date?”
Berdly regrettably shakes his head. “No, unfortunately. No one had the courage to ask me. Not like I would have said yes, anyway. My standards are incredibly high, as you likely know.”
“Um… yeah. Sure.” For just a moment, Susie can’t help but smile to herself while she recalls his cries for a gamer girl’s kiss. “Anyway, Kris. I’ll probably bail, wanna come with?”
Kris nods eagerly, but Noelle gives her a shocked look. “What? How could we leave? We just got here!”
“If I wanted to talk to people, I could do it anywhere else. And not for fifteen dollars,” Susie answers. “And this means the diner will be emptier than a usual Friday night. So are you with me or not?”
While Kris stands from their seat (and pushes in their chair, because they have morals, of course), Noelle glances to the ground and then back up. After a long moment of intense internal debate, she squeezes Susie’s arm a little tighter and grins: “Yeah, I’m with you.”
Susie turns before she can even begin to pretend to listen to Berdly’s subsequent blabber. He follows them to the door, where he finally stops. Only Noelle looks back at him, but all she offers is a shrug.
Their destination is the back entrance of the school. Most younger students aren’t aware of its existence, but it’s Kris and Susie’s favorite entrance to sneak out of. It attracts much less attention than leaving out of the front entrance, after all.
But Noelle doesn’t have that experience, so she looks between the two and the door with confusion. “Wouldn’t it be better to walk to the diner from the front entrance?”
“Kris is going to the diner. They can manage a lot of weird things.” Susie answers with a shrug. Kris nods. “But you and I are going somewhere else.”
The final thing Kris offers Susie before opening the door and disappearing into the darkness is a thumbs up. And then it’s her and Noelle alone again, standing in front of the doors like two top-notch doofuses.
After that, they’re not nearly as quiet as they think they are. Noelle’s laugh echoes between the trees as Susie pulls her along by her warm hands. Noelle is a faster runner than she is, but she’s directionless and giggly about it. A couple times she almost trips, squeezing tighter for a split second as she tries to steady herself. Susie leads her straight back from the school until they reach the apartment complexes, and from there it’s a straight shot right until they reach the lake. But the lake isn’t their destination, no, it’s the picnic tables in the clearing just west of it.
“The picnic tables? This was your idea?” Noelle asks, her muted green dress swishing as she moves.
“I told you, if I wanted to talk to people, I could do it anywhere else,” Susie doesn’t break her stride to answer. “Is this a good place?”
“It is! If not, uh…” Noelle cringes as she sits down, touching a finger onto the table and then wiping it on her dress, “a little dusty, don’t you think?”
“Oh, come on,” Susie takes her seat and laughs, something of a guffaw. “Nobody’s died here. There’s nothing to be afraid of, promise.”
And then there is silence. Neither of them dare say anything in this moment; perhaps its better spent gazing at each other, observing how they’re painted in the cool hues of a late May’s half-moon. Softly the trees rustle around them, like they did the first time Susie saw Noelle.
(It was late autumn, then, and Susie had been locked out of her house. It was the coldest night she can remember, spent shivering in just her cardigan for hours. Without a phone, what would give her a sense of the time would be the sunrise. Eventually it finally arrived, and with it, the distant sound of hooves on the sidewalk. Maybe she hid behind her house as Noelle passed, but… still. The sun rose with her that day, and she’s brought warmth and light every day since.)
Quietly, Noelle speaks first.
“Hey, can I, uh… ask you something?” There is a patient nod across the table. “This is going to sound conceited no matter how I phrase it. But, uh, what… made you like me?”
Susie fiddles with her hands under the table. “Like… in particular?”
“Yeah. In particular.”
“Uh…” Just behind Susie is a very faint whoosh-whoosh-whoosh rhythm, which she immediately bows her head for once she notices. “The movie answer? Or like, the real answer?”
Noelle assumes a… curious expression. Her ears flick forward and she tilts her head a little bit. She smiles, and– there it is. The nose scrunch.
“What’s the difference between the two?” She asks, the shimmer of the lake before her just slightly reflecting in her eyes.
“The movie answer is what you’d hear in a movie. Those tacky ones you like a lot,” Susie answers. “Which are all corny, obviously. Way too corny for me.”
“Totally. That’s why you’re so prone to falling asleep first during them, right?”
“I’m not a weirdo who falls asleep to horror movies,” Susie snaps back through Noelle’s snickers. “You’re fucked in the head for somehow managing that, by the way.”
“Only when you’re there!” Noelle admits through louder, harder laughs (that shouldn’t ever stop, now that Susie has heard it and decided it’s the greatest sound in the whole universe). “But seriously. Give me the real answer. And be honest. I want honesty.”
(Honesty is Susie’s thing, but she’s not very good at being nice about it. So maybe she can manage it for just a second.)
“Fine. The real answer?” Noelle eagerly nods, leaning over the table with clasped hands. “You’re, um, nice to Berdly.”
Noelle stares for a moment, before bursting into that wonderful laugh again. “Fu– sorry– Berdly? What does he have to do with anything?”
“You’re nice to him!” Susie repeats. “And he’s annoying as shit. So if you can be nice to him, you can be nice to anybody. That’s what’s good about you.”
“That’s so sweet, Susie!” Noelle unclasps her hands and lays two open palms across the table.
“I mean, you know.” Very slowly, Susie takes them. Noelle’s hands are much smaller than hers, which is silly to look at, but… her hands are warm. “You, uh, lent me a pencil my first day in class, and I remembered your smile. Simple.”
And then there’s silence. Noelle stares at her, lips slightly parted in shocked speechlessness. Then it melts into a smile, sweet and soft, and– her nose starts to glow. Immediately she notices that, pulling away her shaking hands to hide her face, even if she doesn’t succeed in stifling the glow.
“Oh, I– I’m sorry,” she laughs timidly, “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. Keep going.”
“What? No, it’s cute.” Shit. Fuck. Wait. “I mean, I was done talking anyway. Which means it’s, um, your turn. To say something.”
“Uh, okay,” Noelle lets one hand down, but keeps the other up. “But I guess it’s obvious why I, uh, like you. Isn’t it?”
Susie stares at her blankly. “Is it?”
“What– you haven’t figured?” There’s a moment of silence, in which Noelle’s face twists with confusion. “Well, don’t you want to know?”
“I mean…” Susie shrugs. “I don’t really care.”
(Which… is a little bit of a lie. Because honesty isn’t really her forte. Of course it’s been something she’s wondered, but she’s never reached a solid conclusion. What good quality of hers would possibly stand out to someone as pleasant as Noelle… is beyond her.)
“You’re very brave, for one,” Noelle begins anyway, laying her free palm back out on the table. And when Susie takes it again, with just a little bit less hesitation, she holds it tight. “You can defend yourself fearlessly. And you take up all the space you want, with no apologies, nothing. You know exactly how to live a little, and I think… I think I could use some lessons on that. There’s a reason my dad likes you, you know. You’ll teach me how to live.”
The glow of her nose makes her face light up pink. It’s pretty, against the cool colors of the night. So pretty that Susie forgets anything she was planning to say.
Like a top-notch fucking doofus, she snaps the silence in half and asks with a grin: “Wanna go steal Kris’ dad’s truck again?”