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“Shauna! I need to borrow your perfume! I’m out,” Jackie barges into Shauna’s room and snorts as Shauna hurries to pull her dress on. She glances at the exposed skin, tries not to act weird about it, and grabs the bottle of Tommy Hilfger off her nightstand.
“Jesus, Jac, could you knock?” Shauna’s a little flustered, blushing, and still pulling at the hem of a red dress that Jackie thinks fits her incredibly well, but Shauna’s always been a little (a lot) more self conscious than Jackie ever has. Shauna thinks it’s too short, but if Jackie let her have her way with outfits, Shauna would have herself looking like an escapee of an Amish cult, and it’s a fucking waste, because holy shit, she has legs for days.
The only person who doesn’t know Shauna Shipman is devastatingly beautiful is, well, Shauna Shipman.
Jackie blames the boneheaded boys of Wiskayok for denting Shauna’s confidence, so much so that when any boy freshman year looked her way, she’d withdraw. That is, until she met Gregg, a boy that makes Jackie want to punch walls when she thinks too hard on him.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before, Shipman,” she eyes Shauna again, winks, (like she always would’ve), and moves back out to the living room, trying hard to calm the pounding in her chest.
Jackie’s made it through four years of college, through countless parties, sleepovers, and cuddle sessions; she just needs to get through graduation tonight and then she’ll finally be able to have some space. It’s not that she doesn’t love spending almost every minute of every day with her best friend, but the amount of closeness over this last year especially, has been - well, it’s why she thinks her feelings have become overwhelming and impossible to turn off.
People talk about crossing lines a lot, but what if it feels like the line has never really been there?
Because it’s not like she felt this way in high school, it’s not like she felt this way in the fucking wilderness, or the months that followed after they got home. She never spent any extra time thinking of the way Shauna laughs, or the way she smells after a shower at night, or the way she –-
Yeah, let’s stop that speeding little train of thought.
“Jac, hey, earth to Jackie - we’re gonna be late if we don’t get moving,” Shauna’s snapping her fingers, eyeing her carefully.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Late,” Jackie laughs, shakes her head, “We can’t be late to our own graduation. Can’t have you being late, you’re fucking valedictorian!”
Shauna grabs their caps and gowns, smiles, says, “Yep, big speech to give,” and holds out one hanger for Jackie to grab.
“Are you nervous?”
“Terrified,” Shauna tells her in earnest. “What if I fuck it up?”
It’s laughable, that Shauna could mess this up after putting in four years of blood, sweat, and tears. Shauna’s the best writer, the smartest person Jackie knows. “You won’t.”
“You don’t know that,” Shauna argues, turning to reach for the door knob, and Jackie shifts the gown to her left arm, grabs Shauna’s wrist with her right hand.
“I do know that. You’re gonna give this speech and it’s gonna be amazing,” Jackie says it with a determination she reserves for moments like these. She saves it for when Shauna needs a pick me up, and she prides herself on knowing exactly when those moments are going to happen. Shauna’s always doubted herself, but Jackie’s always been the one to give the pep talks. “You wouldn’t be valedictorian if you weren’t the smartest person in our class. That’s literally what valedictorian means.”
Shauna rolls her eyes, takes her hand back, and says, “I’m glad four years at Rutgers taught you that at least,” with a sarcasm that makes Jackie laugh.
“No one asked for your wise ass attitude, Shipman,” Jackie’s eyes are bright, happy, and she’s overjoyed when Shauna smiles and they end up just staring at each other like two idiots that have nothing intelligent to say.
That happens a lot these days. Moments like this.
Jackie’s not sure when exactly it changed for her; when it crossed her mind that Shauna had the prettiest smile in the world, and she allowed the thought to take up residence in her head until it became a fact – like spelling, or math, or the seasons. And it’s made all the more special because sometimes it can be so damn rare. Shauna’s introspective, brooding, moody even. That smile is like a break in the rain; sun peaking through the clouds.
Whatever, Shauna isn’t the only one who can wax poetic.
She just knows that when Shauna looks at her like she is right now she kind of just wants to push her against the nearest wall and -
“C’mon,” Shauna opens the door and nods her head toward the hallway. “It’s already twelve thirty, we were supposed to be there by now.”
—-----------------
The sun is shining, and it’s probably like nine thousand fucking degrees in this metal chair with this black gown that feels like it’s just absorbing the heat and creating the effect of a little toaster oven, frying Jackie from the inside out. It’s outrageous really for May in Jersey, and she half wonders how Shauna’s feeling, but she’s two rows up and maybe seven seats to the left because of stupid alphabetical order. They’ve already gotten diplomas, she already cheered the loudest when Shauna Shipman was announced and all that’s really left is Shauna’s speech (assuming Jackie doesn’t die of heat stroke before it happens).
It feels a lot like that first summer in the wilderness, the way she can’t really escape the sun, but at least out here she has sunglasses - something she didn’t realize was even a privilege until they all noticed no one thought to pack them because - Seattle felt synonymous with 24/7 rain to a bunch of teenagers. She smiles at being seventeen, shakes her head a few times and sees Shauna’s eyes glancing back, eyebrows furrowed at what Jackie could possibly be laughing at, but she just waves it off, no explaining that thought spiral a few hours from now.
Some days, she feels bad that Shauna didn’t make it to Brown because she fully believes with all her might that Shauna would’ve been valedictorian even at an Ivy League. She’s so fucking out of Jackie’s league, she doesn’t even know why she didn’t get left behind when they got to Rutgers really. Shauna flourished when they got here, really became herself again. The girl that Jackie remembers scribbling in her journal with that ridiculous multicolored pen. All urgency and inky fingers. Wiskayok’s very own soon to be bestselling author, or journalist, or new columnist for the New York Times, because Jackie thinks she can do all of those things. Shauna’s always been eager for things to happen, but then they all were when they were in high school.
Then their plane crashed, not very many Mays ago, and Jackie cringes behind dark sunglasses at anniversary dates and faded memories of chaos and flames. But, they survived that somehow, those wilderness months dividing their life into messy halves. And then, Rutgers gave them another chance to be something other than those poor, desperate, starved girls.
Shauna’s intelligence quickly made her someone all the smart kids wanted to talk to, the boys finally realized how god damn gorgeous she is, and she finally learned to step out of that shell she wore all through high school after becoming something of a leader in those months they spent lost in Canada.
She really is the whole package, Jackie thinks.
And she’s known that for a while now, that no part of her deserves the girl that she shares a dorm with. Shauna should’ve left her in the dust if she knew what was good for her. But she’s always been loyal, and that attribute only grew after Jackie almost died that night in the snow. It was hard to keep Shauna from chasing around behind her, always layering blankets, always apologizing for all that she said when Jackie knows it actually needed to be said.
Shauna actually is the best friend she’s ever had.
She spent their four years at Rutgers making sure Jackie felt included in her gatherings, invited to parties (even when they were terrible parties - but she never told Shauna that), made sure they always had dinner together in the cafeteria, when they weren’t with their respective boys, made sure Jackie never slept alone through a single nightmare that plagued her as she dealt with PTSD that followed her home.
Shauna is loyalty. Even on the days that she shouldn’t have been.
And Jackie’s so fucking grateful for this girl who never left her side.
Some nights, she almost asks if Brown really did reject Shauna after they got home, almost asks Shauna to prove that Brown said no and that Shauna didn’t just come with her to Rutgers just to keep a closer eye - but Shauna wouldn’t - would she?
She’s never quite brave enough to ask the question. She’s never quite daring enough to ask just what else Shauna gave up for her. She just hugs Shauna closer, smiles when she mumbles through sleepy eyes ‘Jac, you okay?’ and Jackie always nods yes, because if Shauna is there, next to her, she actually knows she will be.
“And now - our valedictorian, Shauna Shipman!” the crowd gives the obligatory applause, and Jackie holds her hands up to her mouth to let out a loud yell, giggling a little when Shauna turns back scandalized (of course) before she finally makes it up to the podium.
“Teachers, honored guests, fellow graduates, good evening,” Shauna starts in her most serious voice and Jackie smirks a little, watching the sun glint off the black gown. It’s so perfectly Shauna, to take this so seriously, it’s a big deal, and Jackie’s so proud. Shauna never let her hear this speech, she was always ‘working on it’, “I’d firstly like to extend my thanks to my own family and the families of all our fellow graduates for your support, without it I don’t think a lot of us would be here. I’d also like to extend gratitude to our professors that have helped us along the way and have made Rutgers what it is today, an institution from which I am honored to be receiving my diploma -”
Shauna looks radiant up there, sure, she’s always been a brain, but Jackie gets to look around and see all these other people finally seeing what she’s seen since she was six years old. She can’t help glancing to her left and right, hearing Shauna sum up what the last four years have meant to her, catching a few people looking glassy eyed and she just knows her girl is doing it right.
“When I was writing this speech, I came across an analogy that I think will make sense in the coming months when we reflect on this moment. ‘To change is to endure a trauma.’ Change happens whether or not we are prepared for it, whether or not we ask for it. I know that you all know who I am and I know you’ve all read the newspapers and seen the coverage on the six o’clock news - and I did debate avoiding this in my speech - but to ignore it would be to ignore a vital part of who I became and who you all know me to be.”
Jackie looks up, surprised to hear this part. She’d honestly assumed Shauna would’ve sidestepped and kept her speech strictly academically focused. The sky darkens slightly, Shauna doesn’t like to bring up their time back then, she’s never stopped Jackie from needing to talk about it at night in the aftermath of nightmares, She just usually shuts down when Jackie asks.
“For those of you that don’t know, I was part of the Wiskayok Yellowjackets team that crashed in the spring of ‘96. We were lost in the Canadian wilderness for nineteen months, and we learned to survive out there. Truth be told, I debated if I even really needed college after we were rescued. Could there be anything a place like this could teach me that I hadn’t already learned out there? ‘To change is to endure a trauma.’ I’ve changed in ways I never thought possible, I changed out there in the woods, and I changed further in the last four years here, knowing all of you, gaining a higher education with professors I could’ve only dreamed of learning from. And I’ve endured trauma in ways I can’t really articulate up here on this stage. But, with change and trauma, comes growth, and new beginnings - that’s something I’ve learned from my own experiences. But, we are in charge of shaping our lives from here on out, and we are also the pieces our lives are shaped from. I am here to remind you that momentary struggles in your life should not dissuade you from pursuing a meaningful one; that our work does not end here, and that this really is just the beginning. I have learned firsthand that the world is more difficult than you can ever imagine, but that there are always, always people that will lift you up, and circumstances that will make you understand why the dark had to happen and that joy can still be found in those dark moments.”
“Our lives may be separating here, and we may go on to lead lives we can’t fathom at this moment, sitting on this lawn. But, I hope each of you takes a piece of what you’ve learned these last four years and that you use it to carve your life into what you hope it to be. I know that I will take a piece of you all with me everywhere I go.”
Shauna stops to wipe at the bottom of her eyes, Jackie sees her being careful to not ruin her makeup and purses her lips, wonders if she should’ve just suggested the waterproof mascara she had in her bag.
“And so, as my time here has come to an end, I want to end this speech by thanking all of you for the memories here. And use one final moment to thank my best friend for making sure I got through these four years when I really thought the dark might swallow me whole, she’s the reason I’m able to be standing here, in more ways than I can count,” and Shauna’s brown eyes search quickly, lighting up when they finally connect with Jackie’s, and in that moment Jackie thinks she’s maybe never loved her more.
The rain that’s been threatening to descend all day finally lets loose, right there at the end of Shauna’s speech, and Jackie just sighs because this would happen today of all days, fucking New Jersey humidity.
Shauna yelps a little, tries to recover with, “Congratulations to all of the students here tonight and may this just be the beginning of the journey of the rest of your lives!” and moves to get under the awning behind her. Everyone throws their hats, and Jackie joins in with the tradition, catches Shauna in her peripheral vision as she runs off the stage and hugs her mom, feels a little jolt of sadness because she wanted to be hugging Shauna, but she’s really just glad Ang could get off work to make it today.
Her own parents are somewhere in the crowd that’s hurtling towards the auditorium doors to get out of the rain, her mom always a stickler about hair and makeup being perfect, but Jackie just rolls her eyes and lets the people move around her, takes a moment to remind herself that this really can be a beginning.
Endings have never been easy, but she’ll have Shauna. And yeah, they’re moving home after this to save up some money to find an apartment together because she’ll never give up being roommates, but this still feels like the end of a piece of her life that she worked really hard to get to. And there’s a second when she remembers sitting on a rotted tree stump in the woods, fully believing they’d never get to be here; she wasn’t sure if they’d make it to this part of their lives, but she really did get to do it all with Shauna by her side.
“Jackie!” she turns her head, hears Shauna’s voice, but can’t for the life of her figure out where it’s coming from. She pushes her wet bangs off her forehead, smiling because she knows how her mom is going to react to her looking like a drowned rat on graduation day - how will they ever go to dinner like this? “Hey, Jackie!”
And Shauna finally appears, running up from where the stage is, just about as soaked to the bone as Jackie is. Jackie brightens instantly as Shauna throws her left arm around her shoulders and walks through the rain with her. “So, what’d you think?” she asks like she didn’t get the round of applause of her life before everyone ran inside.
“You did amazing, like I knew you would,” Jackie says, reaching up with her left hand to tangle it with Shauna’s that’s hanging empty over her shoulder.
“I don’t know about amazing -”
“Stop being so damn humble, Shipman,” she tries for a reprimanding tone as she looks over, catches a silly grin on Shauna’s face as rain just pelts down on them both and can’t stop her own stupid smile in return. “You know you were good, don’t you?”
“I do,” Shauna agrees, and she looks lighter than Jackie’s used to.
They walk in silence for a few minutes, the rain’s warm on Jackie’s arms, and she’s thankful that it’s just the two of them, even if it’s just for this little walk. She chances a look to her right, catches Shauna staring up at the doors as the last of the people get inside to say their final goodbyes before their big departures. “You know,” Jackie starts, and waits for Shauna to look over, “I didn’t expect you to bring up the whole .. crash and everything.”
Shauna clears her throat, “Yeah, I wasn’t going to, but I just think it’s like so much of who we are now. Like I said. Weren’t you listening?” Shauna’s teasing, nudges her hip into Jackie’s and laughs.
“I was listening! I’m just saying I was surprised is all,” she stops them and pulls away from Shauna for a second, turns to face her and really look at this girl that’s probably made up more of who Jackie is today than any minute she spent in those woods. She looks at Shauna, hair matted under her cap that she’s still wearing (Jackie doesn’t know why she didn’t throw it like everyone else), gown glued to her, waterlogged, and wonders how that’s only just occurring to her in a real way.
So, she just has to ask, “Hey, did you mean what you said up there?”
“What - which part?” Shauna returns, eyes flickering toward the auditorium doors.
Jackie steps in closer, “The part where you said you wouldn’t be standing here without me.”
“I wouldn’t,” Shauna nods, meets Jackie’s eyes as the corner of her mouth quirks up, “That shouldn’t be news to you, Jac.”
“Yeah, but -” Jackie stops herself, considers how to word this so it makes sense. The thunder makes her jump, and Shauna reaches and lays her hands on her shoulders, because she just knows Jackie needs it. Yeah, she should probably just speak now before they both get electrocuted. “Shauna, you know I wouldn’t be here without you either. Like, really really wouldn’t.”
Shauna exhales shakily, her face darkens briefly, “Jackie, I can’t -”
“You have to. We have to talk about it. And you just never do.”
“Because I can’t,” Shauna says quietly, pulls her hands back until Jackie can see her nails biting into her palms, like there’s things she doesn’t know how to release. “You’re here. That’s what matters to me. You’re what matters to me. I wouldn’t be standing here either if you hadn’t - if I hadn’t - I’m just so fucking glad I woke up that morning. I’m so glad I got to you.”
It’s the most Shauna’s ever said on the subject, it’s the most insight Jackie’s had into that part of her head. She wraps her arms around Shauna’s neck, pulls her in until there’s just the two of them on that field, thunder rings out again, and Shauna finally gives in, wraps her arms around Jackie so tight that she can barely take a breath (she’s not mad about it).
This has always felt safe.
A few minutes pass, and Jackie’s sure her mom will be looking for them, but she gets the impression that Shauna’s mom had to take off to catch a late shift at the diner. Shauna’s coming to dinner with them anyway, some fancy restaurant that her dad picked, and it’ll be too stuffy for the both of them but Jackie’s dad will at least pay for the copious amounts of wine they’ll consume and then maybe Jackie will be able to say what she’s been unable to wrap her mind around since at least midway through their second year at Rutgers.
“Do you remember that night we spent out here?” Shauna asks quietly, close enough to Jackie’s ear that she shivers and pulls back. She stands straight, runs her hands down Shauna’s arms, keeps Shaua’s left index finger to play with. “In the rain,” Shauna finally adds after a beat, a small twinkle in her eye, like Jackie could ever forget.
“Just you, me, and a soccer ball?”
“Yeah,” Shauna’s smile then is enough that Jackie feels her heart grow three sizes at it. “That one.”
“You kicked my ass in a one on one and covered me in mud. Of course I remember that night.”
“It was one of my favorite nights I think,” Shauna says slowly, like she’s lost in her own memory of it.
“Thought you didn’t like soccer anymore,” Jackie’s smug, but the little smile creeping onto her face gives her away.
Shauna makes a face, swings her arms around a few times like a little kid, says, “I like soccer with you I guess,” sticks her tongue out and scrunches her nose. It makes Jackie laugh as she finally takes Shauna’s hand in hers and goes to pull her toward the door. “Wait -”
“What?” Jackie stops, looks back, sees Shauna looking pensive, digging the tip of her shoe into the dirt that’s turning into mud. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“I, um, think I like doing a lot of things with you…” she trails off, sounds nervous, and Jackie looks harder at her, moves closer again, wiping at the rain on her forehead. She feels like she should be able to read Shauna like this, but can’t quite comprehend if what she thinks is happening is actually happening.
“I like doing things with you too.”
“I don’t mean - I, uh, look Jac, I know it’s taken me like four years, or maybe a lot longer and this might fuck it all up but at least we won’t have to live together anymore if it does, so maybe this is like best case scenario.” It is what’s happening and Jackie can’t believe this is the moment Shauna’s picked; can’t believe it’s going to be standing out here on the fucking field in the rain in graduation gowns, but she’s always been a sucker for a good rom com moment and there’s really not going to be a better one than this.
Hell, she’s gotta give credit anyway, because she’s been like half convinced she should just let this all go, keep her feelings to herself, and that she’d just spend the next few miserable months telling herself this was just some weird byproduct of them living together for the last four years. Or, just get really fucking wine drunk and blurt it all out seconds before the black out. They’re pretty equally appealing. But here Shauna is, making the big moves, yet again.
“ - and are you even listening?”
“Wha - yeah, I’m listening.”
“Then what did I just say?”
Jackie stutters a few times, smiles at Shauna as her cheeks turn red and she looks appropriately called out because she meant to be listening. She tries to redeem herself, says, “I don’t need to know what you said -”
“Jackie, I’m like trying to bear my soul here and you’re just zoning out -”
“Shauna, chill,” Shauna stops and looks on in mild disbelief, but stops all the same. Jackie steps in, lowers her voice to say, “I don’t need to know what you said because I was thinking about how you’re my favorite person. You always have been. And I was just gonna try to let it go because I’m scared I’ll lose you, but this has been making me crazy for the last like three years.”
“Years?!”
“Years,” Jackie repeats, looking down at the soggy grass and back up at Shauna who looks like if she smiles any bigger it’ll fly off her face.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks Jackie, voice softer than it’s been all night, something like awe registering in her eyes.
Jackie scoffs a little, says, “And risk you turning me down?” and Shauna snorts.
“Like I ever could, please. Have you seen you?”
“I am at least a little better than Gregg the douchebag that ruled your early college life,” she tries to keep it light about him, internally cringes at all the fights they got into over Shauna’s scummy ex boyfriend.
Shauna just lets it go, rolls her eyes and goes, “Oh, yeah, you look like a total catch right now.”
Jackie hits Shauna’s arm immediately, mouth open wide, “Shauna. Shipman. You take that back!”
“Nah,” Shauna shrugs, but reaches out to grab Jackie anyway and pulls her a little closer. “Are we gonna…”
Jackie can’t help but smile, heart pounding around in her chest, puts her hand up to her chin like she has no idea what Shauna might be asking for. “Are we gonna what?”
“Jac,” Shauna whines a little, pouts as she leans in until their noses touch and her stupid cap pokes Jackie’s forehead.
So, Jackie reaches up, pulls the cap off, and watches as Shauna’s brown eyes reflect the lightning that jolts across the sky. She lets them stay there for a moment, dangling their friendship in the balance, until she finally, finally whispers, “C’mere, Shipman,” and pulls at the extra fabric of the gown on Shauna’s arms until their lips meet right as the rain picks up.
It’s probably not even safe to still be out there, but she won’t ever forget Shauna smiling into the kiss, pulling back and taking a deep breath, rain pouring down her face, before going, “Jesus Christ, Jackie, I can’t breathe,” and the way she leaned back in anyway.