Chapter Text
It feels like a dream. Shauna hadn’t known what the fuck she was doing when she came, but as soon as she saw her everything clicks. She knows exactly why she’d fretted for months, trying to find the perfect dress, why she spent over an hour on her hair and more on her makeup before this moment. It seems obvious, and she wonders if maybe, until this moment she just hadn’t wanted to confront it. It seems likely, Shauna did tend to have a habit of avoiding her feelings.
Standing in front of her, looking like a vision from a bygone age is Jackie fucking Taylor. She’s aged elegantly, in a way Shauna knows only she could. She looks like a golden era movie star walking the red carpet years later, still wowing audiences with her radiant power. It drags Shauna forcibly back into a past she’d rather forget. Her heart stutters in her chest when she remembers the hurt in Jackie’s gorgeous hazel eyes, her hands shake when she remembers the way she started crying before Shauna had even started yelling.
Seeing Jackie standing before her only amplifies twenty-five years worth of regret and grief.
When Jackie turns and looks directly at her, twenty-five years of overwhelming anxiety send her heart racing.
The unexpected motion toward her, the widening smile kickstarts a million fantasies Shauna’s spent the last twenty-five years telling herself she didn't deserve.
When Jackie says her name, it takes everything in her not to collapse. She could barely believe this moment was real. Her name from that mouth, from those perfectly red lips is a masterpiece Shauna hasn’t let herself indulge in since that day, a quarter of a century ago. And now, she has no choice.
Jackie Taylor stands in front of her, waiting for a reply.
“Jackie, hi,” she says, nearly having to force her tongue into the right places of articulation.
“Shauna,” Jackie says again, like it’s the only thing she has to say, after all this time.
Her name comes out of Jackie’s mouth on a sigh, and the aching feeling in Shauna’s chest stiffens when she realizes she doesn’t know if it’s one of relief or of pain. There was a time she could decipher Jackie’s every move.
“I didn’t expect you to be here,” Shauna says.
She doesn’t know if she was hoping she wouldn’t be, or if she wouldn’t let herself consider the very idea that tonight could be the night she reconnects with Jackie Taylor. Somehow, both realities are just as terrifying. “Are you kidding?” Jackie says, laughter on her tongue that Shauna would recognize anywhere, “and miss all the fun?”
It’s a laugh that haunts Shauna’s dreams, her nightmares, her every memory of the first eighteen years of her life. It’s a laugh that makes her feelings on attending this reunion all the more conflicted. Now that she’s heard it, she doesn’t think she’d survive twenty-five more years without it.
Shauna fakes a laugh through her fear, and shakes her head. “I’m not sure if I’d call this fun ,” she says, looking around the room at all the people she’d never been able to forget.
“Shauna Shipman, are you saying reuniting with your childhood best friend isn’t fun?” Jackie says, “people write movies about this you know.”
She thinks people would write movies about Jackie , alone. She doesn’t mention that. She doesn’t mention she hasn’t been Shipman in almost twenty years either. She just smiles another forced smile, wonders if Jackie can still tell, and says, “I suppose this part isn’t too bad.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Jackie returns, practically blinding Shauna with that perfect smile, “I’m gonna get a drink, do you want something?”
Shauna just nods. Jackie doesn’t ask her what she wants, she just shoots Shauna a thumbs up and turns around, walking to the drink table.
Watching Jackie leave reminds her of another moment, so long ago, the last time she’d seen her, and she swears she feels her throat closing up. Her eyes follow Jackie, because it’s all she can do to keep from suffocating, from the room spinning and everything going dark. She watches Jackie mix drinks from afar, a sense of glee in every action she does. It feels so familiar and so foreign all at the same time, it leaves Shauna mourning for days gone by, for missed opportunities and lost love.
“Hey,” Jackie says, handing her a cup.
There’s an oddly violent silence existing in the moment when Shauna and Jackie’s fingers brush over the cup, and it feels so high school , she can barely believe it. Shauna takes a sip without even looking, and blanches at a taste with almost as much history as this moment. “Malibu milk,” she says.
“Yeah, it was always your favourite, for whatever reason,” Jackie says, an uncharacteristically shy smile on her face. Shauna has to remind herself she doesn’t know what’s characteristic for Jackie anymore.
She smiles at Jackie, sipping the drink like it’s not the first time she’s drank it since she was eighteen. Nothing Shauna had loved when she’d known Jackie had survived the death of their friendship, except maybe Jeff, but she wouldn’t use that word to describe her feelings for him, definitely not then. Shauna was a shell of the person Jackie had known, and sipping this malibu milk, she’s terrified of the moment Jackie will realize she’s not the person she remembers.
“So,” Jackie says, “I missed you.”
Shauna swears her heart skips a beat. She never imagined she’d hear Jackie’s voice again, never mind her saying those words, and yet, here she was. Shauna had been so sure Jackie would never even want to look at her again, and she knew she deserved it. “Oh. Oh… wow,” she says, trying to find the words, “I missed you too, like a lot, but… uh…”
“You thought I’d never want to hear from you again,” Jackie says, voicing every thought Shauna had, like somehow she still knows her like the back of her hand.
“Yeah,” Shauna confirms, feeling a bit embarrassed, for some reason she can’t seem to stomach.
“Makes sense I guess,” Jackie says, like she’s almost disappointed, “do you think we could put all that behind us, start fresh? I forgave and forgot a long time ago, and all this time I’ve been waiting to get the chance to have you back.”
Water spurs in Shauna’s eyes, threatening to spill out, erupting into a breakdown of utterly huge proportions. “God,” she says, struggling around a million words she’s wanted to say a million times, trying to figure out what to say that doesn’t shatter this moment, “of course. Of course we can forget about it.”
Jackie’s smile widens, beginning to resemble that smile Shauna remembers from their childhood, when everything was just for her. The moment of peace doesn’t last long though, because as Jackie peers over Shauna’s shoulder, recognition floods into her eyes, and her smile falls.
Shauna doesn’t get the chance to ask what was wrong. An arm wraps around her waist, and a familiar cologne wafts through the air, and the question is answered. Jeff. She has to resist the urge to curse out loud, she resists the urge to wrench herself from his grasp and ask why the fuck he decided to show up right now. He always had a way with chiseling his own space in between the two of them, and she hates that even now, when Jackie has forgiven and forgotten, he stands as a barrier.
“Jackie,” he says, like he hadn’t noticed her, “wow, it’s been years.”
It’s one hell of an understatement, loaded with so much needed exposition and decades of regret. Shauna’s not surprised he doesn’t really understand the depth of all this, he never really had, even as it was happening. “Yeah, a few,” Jackie says, looking between the two of them, eyeing the hand around Shauna’s waist, “you two are, uh…”
She trails off, seemingly unable to find the words, her eyes meeting Shauna’s like they’ll tell her everything she needs to know. “Yeah,” Shauna says, nodding. She doesn’t want to say the words she knows Jackie’s asking. It feels like one more betrayal.
“Just over fifteen years married,” Jeff says, in the same tone he’d tell anyone, like Jackie was not the girl they’d both wronged, like Jackie wasn’t Jeff’s first love and the only person Shauna thinks she’s ever truly connected with.
“Wow…” Jackie says, her jaw clenched like she’s trying to keep from gaping, “I had… no idea. You’re not…”
Once again, she doesn’t finish her words that are directed to Shauna, but this time, Shauna has no idea what she’s asking. She knows she doesn’t have the right to push, the ice is still too thin for Shauna to put her full weight on it, to ask questions Jackie doesn’t want to give the answer to.
For a moment, the silence is once again palpable. It hurts in a way that Shauna would have never expected. Years ago, when her world still revolved around Jackie, they hadn’t had awkward moments. They had never spent anytime just staring, trying to find something to say.
It seems Shauna has a little luck on her side though, because the song changes then, and the opening chords of Fade Into You by Mazzy Star begin, and Jackie absolutely lights up. “I haven’t heard this song in forever ,” she says, barely hesitating before grabbing Shauna’s hand and dragging them to the near empty dance floor.
When their hands had touched, Shauna’s heart lost its rhythm, bouncing around at lightning speed, making her feel almost lightheaded. When they reach the dance floor, and Jackie pulls her in close, wrapping her arms around Shauna’s neck, she swears her heart stops, and it doesn’t start again until she’s winding her arms around Jackie’s waist and tugging her closer.
The closeness feels like the click of the last piece of a puzzle that’s been haunting Shauna for years. She’s not sure they’ve ever touched each other like this before, but it feels natural all the same. She tries to shake away the thought that it feels better than her first dance, that she feels more intimate here with Jackie for the first time in years than she had with her husband at their wedding.
“So you and Jeff,” Jackie says, like she knew Shauna would spiral if she had a moment longer down that train of thought.
Shauna nods, resisting the urge to break their eye contact. She waits for Jackie to berate her, to let her go, and never talk to her again, but she doesn’t. Tears well in her eyes, she frowns ever so slightly, running a finger along the exposed skin at Shauna’s neck. “I can’t believe I missed your wedding,” she says.
Jackie’s cheeks are wet before Shauna can even respond. Shauna tries her best to comfort her, running soothing circles where her hands rest at her waist, but nothing seems to work. Jackie cries quietly, with no flourish of the dramatics, just a silent pain that Shauna can’t believe apparently came from missing her wedding. “God, this is so silly and embarrassing,” Jackie says, removing one hand from Shauna’s neck to wipe her tears, “it’s just that… we knew each other since we were kids, Shauna, we grew up planning our weddings together, it makes my heart ache that I missed something so important. I hate knowing I missed anything significant in your life.”
Guilt pools uneasily in Shauna’s stomach, she knows this is her fault. With Jackie now, she doesn’t have just her own regrets, she has a growing sense of pain knowing she caused Jackie to have regrets. It makes her almost sick to think about the fact that after everything, Jackie is still crying in her arms over missing her wedding. “It’s not your fault,” she says.
The it’s mine is more than implied, but in one more weak moment, the words can’t find their way up and out of Shauna’s throat. “I know,” Jackie says, seemingly cheering up, “but you know it’s not yours either right? We were stupid kids, and I don’t blame you for any of this.”
It’s not true. Shauna knows that. She knows she doesn’t deserve this kindness and forgiveness from Jackie, she knows it’s her fault, a few words aren’t going to ease up a quarter of a lifetime’s guilt and regret. Somehow though, it warms her insides, untwists a coil in Shauna’s stomach that’s been there so long she was beginning to think it was just a part of her. Somehow, Jackie is just as kind as she remembers, and it makes it all hurt a little bit more. “Maybe I can come to your wedding,” she says, in lieu of an answer to the question, hoping it’ll redirect the conversation.
Jackie smiles shyly, looking down at her toes before meeting Shauna’s eyes again. “I don’t think it’ll ever happen, but I suppose you can hold out hope,” she says, and as much as she tries to sound lighthearted, Shauna knows better.
“Oh c’mon,” Shauna teases, “there’s no way you are having trouble with men.”
“Not men,” Jackie says with a humourless laugh.
Shauna doesn’t think she understands. Before she can even voice her confusion, Jackie shakes her head. “I’m gay, Shauna,” she says.
Oh .
Objectively, within the context of the conversation, it makes sense. It wasn’t men that Jackie was having trouble with, it was women. However, with everything Shauna knows about Jackie, it feels almost unreal. She runs through every moment of their friendship, and tries to see if there had ever been any signs, and once she does, everything begins to fall into place. God , she was stupid. It all seemed so fucking obvious now. The way Jackie had felt about Donna from Twin Peaks, and Alanis Morissette even though she claimed her music wasn’t really her favourite. She remembers Jackie’s reaction to Sidney Prescott. Their freshman year, Jackie had been nearly infatuated with their upperclassmen soccer captain, Kimberly French. Jackie hadn’t even seemed to like Jeff when they had been together. Shauna feels almost stupid for not putting all the pieces together.
“That’s okay, right?” Jackie says, like she needs Shauna’s reassurance, like she always had.
“Of course,” Shauna says without hesitation.
“I’m not having trouble with women though,” Jackie says, “I just think I missed my chance with my person.”
Shauna wonders who’s lucky enough to have been Jackie’s person, she wonders who was stupid enough to throw that chance away. She thinks she’d give them a piece of her mind if she ever got the chance. They were a fucking idiot, and they should know it.
“Do you want to get another drink?” Jackie says, as the song comes to an end.
It seems like a deflection, but Shauna welcomes it. She doesn’t know how to comfort Jackie in a moment like this, when she seems so resigned. It wasn’t a quality Jackie had when they were teenagers. She always had this relentless belief that things could get better. She’d said once that as long as Shauna stands at her side, she’s never worried. Shauna wonders if she’ll ever feel relief from the mountain of guilt settling on her shoulders.
She lets the alcohol help lighten the load, letting Jackie pour her another Malibu milk. She watches as Jackie mixes herself some drink with a copious amount of alcohol. When she finishes, she takes a long sip, before her eyes lock on something across the room.
She grabs Shauna’s free hand with her own, and drags her across the gym to Taissa and Natalie, who apparently just showed up.
That’s how the rest of the night goes, Jackie pours herself a drink and holds Shauna’s hand unabashedly, just like she had when they were kids. They talk to their old classmates, they dance to songs they used to listen to in the car together. Jeff says he’s going out to the sports bar with some of his old friends, and Shauna barely hears him. She’s caught up in the nostalgia, in the utter euphoria of Jackie’s hand in hers. She feels like a kid for the first time in years. She feels happy , really happy, for the first time since that day so many years ago.
By ten-thirty, Shauna is pleasantly tipsy, and Jackie is downright wasted. Shauna knows it’s stupid, but she’d stopped drinking fairly early in the night, because she wanted to be able to remember this. She wanted to be able to remember spending the night holding Jackie’s hand, dancing with her, feeling like they haven’t been separated by twenty-five long, sickening years.
As the party begins to die down, Shauna calls them an Uber. She knows neither of them are fit to drive, if the way Jackie’s curling around her, her head resting on her shoulder and the way Shauna leans right into it is any indicator. “Where are you staying?” Shauna asks.
The slight smell of Jackie’s perfume is dizzying. The scent so close is more intoxicating than the alcohol, clouding her mind and making her deliriously happy. She knows it’s ridiculous, to feel this way about your childhood best friend, about someone you haven’t spoken to for a time longer than you knew them, but it’s Jackie .
Jackie had always made her ridiculous.
“My parents’,” Jackie groans, tightening her grip on Shauna, “please don’t make me go back there tonight.”
Shauna’s heard that request countless times before, and she’d always been powerless to resist. Jackie’s parents were vain, they were pretentious and god they could be judgemental. It’s why Shauna’s place had become something of a refuge. “Sleepover?” Shauna asks, just like she had when they were teenagers.
“Fuck yes,” Jackie says, “you’re a lifesaver Shipman.”
Shauna doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t bother correcting her. She’s sure Jackie realizes she’s a Sadecki now. She doesn’t have to say it. She just waits for the Uber.
When it comes, she and Jackie squish into the backseat, achingly close despite the fact that there’s three whole seats for them to spread out on. Jackie drops her head right onto Shauna’s shoulder as soon as the door closes. With no ventilation, Shauna swears the powerful scent of Jackie is all the more woozying. She doesn’t mind too much though, Jackie’s hair is soft on her cheek, and she can see the Uber driver smiling in the rearview mirror. “You guys are an adorable couple,” she says, as she drives.
Shauna’s stomach flips, twisting and turning like it aches to free itself from its confinement and all she can do is nod. Jackie doesn’t even react, doesn’t stop stroking her thumb along Shauna’s left-hand.
When they pull up to the house, Jackie’s slightly more coherent, singing along slightly to the song playing on the radio, waving goodbye as they climb out of the Uber. Shauna can’t help but think it’s adorable, drunk Jackie always had a way of charming her way right into her heart. It’s not a shock that it hasn’t changed.
She can’t find her keys in the mess of her purse, with Jackie leaning all of her weight on her, with the weight of the entire night. Jackie’s curling further into her, whining quietly about how cold it is, and Shauna just wants to get inside, but her hands can’t seem to wrap around her metal key ring, no matter how much she tears the rest of her bag apart.
In another lucky circumstance, the front door swings open. “Mom?” Callie asks as she steps out onto the porch.
"Hi honey,” Shauna says, “thanks for opening the door, I couldn’t find my keys.”
Jackie lets out a gasping sob. “You have a daughter?” she says, looking at Shauna with blown pupils hiding nearly all of the hazel in her huge, awestruck eyes.
Callie turns to look at Jackie, and it’s like recognition dawns upon her. “You’re Jackie Taylor,” she says.
All it does is aid in turning one sob into many, as Jackie lets go of Shauna for the first time all night and reaches for Callie. “Oh my god,” she says, “you are so beautiful, you look just like your mom, I can’t believe I didn’t know you existed, I am so sorry, I was supposed to be here.”
Her words are near incoherent through the cover of tears, but Callie is sympathetic nonetheless, until Shauna can reach for her, and pull her into a hug, rubbing soothing circles on her back. Callie clearly has places to be, so Shauna lets her go, tells her she loves her, and takes Jackie into her home.
It’s one of the only places within Shauna’s memory that hasn’t been touched by Jackie’s presence, and now here she is, wrapped in Shauna’s arms, crying as she enters for the first time. It’s certainly going to be something Shauna remembers. She’ll probably think about it every time she goes through the front door.
She helps Jackie out of her jacket and her shoes, locks the door behind them, and doesn’t even think to settle Jackie on the couch, or in Callie’s bed, she just takes her to her room. When they open the door, Jackie’s eyes scan the room, falling over the wedding photos on their dresser and the family pictures on the wall. She looks then to Shauna, with tear stained cheeks and red eyes, and smiles, something almost forced, but not quite. It hurts Shauna’s heart, knowing Jackie’s in pain. The guilt twists up and around inside her, threatening to suffocate her.
But she pushes through it, lending Jackie pyjamas, showing her to the bathroom.
She only gets a moment to breathe while Jackie’s freshening up. Shauna tucks herself under the covers, sucking in a deep, shaky breath, while she thinks about everything that’s happened, everything that she thinks is still to come.
Jackie doesn’t knock, she doesn’t hesitate when she reenters Shauna’s room, she just pushes open the door, drops her folded clothes on the chair and tucks herself into bed right beside Shauna.
For the first time in over twenty-five years, she and Jackie lay in the same bed, facing each other. It’s not new, it's a position that lives scattered throughout Shauna's entire memory of childhood, but somehow, it feels unique all the same. Shauna’s heart lurches at the opportunity to memorize Jackie’s face all over again, learning everything she’d missed. “Thank you,” Jackie says after a long quiet moment, her eyes never leaving Shauna’s.
She’s sobering up, Shauna knows that, she knows what Jackie’s like when the alcohol begins to fade, that’s something that never changes. Still though, she’s tipsy at the very least, and when she says, “I still love you, after all this time,” Shauna isn’t sure if it’s the alcohol talking.
She responds nevertheless. “I love you too,” she says, hoping it portrays the desperation that comes with the fact Shauna has spent the last two and a half decades wanting to tell Jackie how much she really did love her.
Jackie smiles, reaching for Shauna’s hand. “I promise I’m not going to miss anymore of your life,” she says with a squeeze to seal the deal.
Then, she looks at Shauna, for one more long moment, and tugs her arm over her side, turning so they’re spooning, with Shauna’s arm wrapped around her middle. “Please don’t leave me,” Jackie whispers.
Before Shauna can respond, before Shauna can tell her no one could tear her away from Jackie again, with any level of force, her breathing evens out, and Shauna knows she’s asleep. There’s comfort in the fact that even after all these years, Shauna can still tell when she’s fallen asleep. With that in mind, she too falls asleep with an ease she only has with Jackie laying beside her.