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This is a terrible idea, KJ thinks as she glances at the distasteful garlands and elaborate flower arrangements. This whole party has ‘Mom’ written all over it, which honestly just tracks. Of course in the future, Mom still has her way in leading KJ’s life because of course it does. As if anything will change. This is why she was skeptical about looking up the future her in the first place, and she had been right to feel that way.
Yet for some reason, she still misses this. This life, this house—the sound of paws pit-pattering on the wooden floor, the sweet scent of Havdalah spices that seem to linger still even after Shabbat has long ended. Years have passed in this space—not for her—but nothing has changed. KJ could really use fewer changes right now. Her feet lead her to the stairs; still the same, save for the portrait on the wall. It’s her parents with a girl that looks exactly like her, only a lot inches taller, head fuller of bouncy curls, her face losing some of her baby fat. At the same time, it doesn’t look exactly like her her. The KJ in the photo looks like her but more regal somehow. Mature even. Just more grown. She wonders how old she is here and if she will feel unhappy as she looked at that exact moment.
KJ ascends upstairs, taking in the framed photos on the wall. Graduation photos, tournament photos, prom photos—it’s strange seeing her entire life played out like this, lived out by someone who is her but not actually her.
Time travel is exhausting to think about sometimes.
She naturally drifts toward the direction of her room. The first thing she notices is the posters, displaying strange, unfamiliar names and words, with experimental and innovative art. She narrows her eyes at them, weirded out by the implication that her future self would be into… whatever this is.
KJ is so engrossed in the posters that she doesn’t notice the woman sitting at her desk. “Hey, what the hell are you doing?”
She jumps and looks to her side. Unlit cigarette dangling from her pierced lips, the woman glares at her. Her hair is short and uneven, the left side shaved. They’re about the same height yet her folded arms and all-black, punk attire is intimidating enough that KJ steps several steps back. There is something so familiar about her, but she can’t pinpoint it.
“I’m sorry, I was just–I was looking for the bathroom.”
“Across the room,” she says, sounding bored. She puts on her old headphones, “Now, scram.”
Feeling uncertain, she lingers for a bit and continues to ogle at the photos. The woman glances at her again and sighs dramatically, “Dude, are you serious?”
KJ squints at her. She can’t help it. There’s a niggling familiarity about this woman, clad with a spikey jacket and brash attitude. She raises an eyebrow, her pale blue eyes look even more striking underneath all that black eyeshadow and—
Holy shit.
“Mac?”
Adult Mac’s eyebrows shoot upward, “And who the hell are you?”
She racks her brain for an excuse, “Um, I’m Katherine, KJ’s cousin. She told me about you.”
“Ah,” Adult Mac takes off her headphones again, making the loud music she’s listening to more audible, albeit slightly muffled. The crease on her forehead softens, “She talks about me?”
“Yeah,” KJ says, shrugging helplessly. She starts backtracking to the door to escape the situation, “Anyways, sorry to bother you.”
“Hey, hold on!” Adult Mac holds out a hand, nails tipped with black. KJ freezes. She watches as she awkwardly points to the bed, suddenly sitting up straight and sweeping the rumples in her jeans. If she didn’t know any better, she would say that she almost looks… nervous? That can’t be right.
“Yeah?”
“You can stay here if you’d like,” she shifts uncomfortably, “The party can be a bit of a shitshow, trust me.”
Wordlessly, she nods and sits on the bed—her bed—and continues to gawk at the posters. No one speaks for a while, and Adult Mac sits lazily on her desk with her legs spread out, looking bored out of her mind.
KJ decides to break the silence, “So, have you and KJ been friends for long?”
She fiddles with her headphones before answering, “Yes and no. I grew up here and I’ve seen her around. We were both paper girls for a while, but it wasn’t until I moved out that we clicked.”
“Move out where?”
“New York.”
“What do you do?”
She sucks the air through her teeth, “I’m taking a break for a while. Mostly just doing band stuff.” KJ doesn’t miss her dodging the question, but she decides not to question her further.
KJ considers that, and it isn’t hard to imagine Mac as a performer, fingers poised on the strings of an electric guitar. The blinding strobe light shining on her, and the screams from the crowd almost drowning her riffs. The fame and glory. Mac Coyle, a total rockstar.
“What about KJ?”
“She goes to NYU.”
“What do I—” KJ stumbles with her words, “I mean, what does KJ do at NYU?”
“Uh, mostly film stuff. You know, smartass shit.”
“Film?” she mutters, frowning, “She’s not in business school?”
Adult Mac snorts, “You sound like her mom. No, she likes that classic film shit. You know, like Kubrick and Spielberg.”
“Kubrick?”
“Stanley Kubrick. He’s like this pretentious director and his films are super fucked up but in a good way. KJ is obsessed with him. I wasn’t into him at first but yeah, she converted me. Now we’re both obsessed with films in general. There’s actually a Kubrick marathon coming up. The house theater downtown, you know it?
“Yeah.”
“It’s at 8, starting with Paths of Glory. I know, I know, it’s too fucking early but KJ wants to do the whole marathon, so,” she holds her hands up as if saying what can you do? “You could come with us if you want.”
“Uh, I’ll have to ask my mom,” she stutters, not used to this Mac being friendly and easy-going. Technically, it’s not her Mac, not right now.
“Cool,” she raises a leg up in the chair, then quirks her head at her, seemingly considering her.
KJ squirms in her seat, “What?”
“Nothing. You just look like her a lot.”
She laughs nervously.
“Anyway, have you seen her stuff?” When she shakes her head, Adult Mac looks at one of her photos on the wall, her voice becoming much gentler. “If you haven’t, you should annoy her into making you watch it. She’s fucking amazing, but she doesn’t think so. Although, don’t tell her I said that because she’s got enough of it from me already.”
KJ pries her eyes away. The sight of Adult Mac’s unbearably fond smile is too much to handle. It feels like she’s intruding into something, though she isn’t sure what it is. Clearly, they had—or they will—have a history together. It’s unexpected, but so is future her apparently being into films. Looks like a lot will happen in the next eleven years.
If they manage to go back to their timeline, that is.
Adult Mac seems to have sensed her discomfort and she goes back to fiddling with her headphones, occasionally running her hand through her hair in a nervous manner.
KJ stands up suddenly, shooting her a smile that is too big for her face, “I’m gonna go. Sorry to bother you.”
Adult Mac nods at her, leaning back on the chair. She lingers on the door frame, trying to think of the right word to say, “I hope I get to see you perform live.”
She blinks, surprised, “Thanks.”
KJ closes the door behind her, mind reeling. Films, huh? And apparently, she would be best friends with Mac Coyle, of all people. Who would have thought? She can’t deny it; it’s a pleasant glimpse into a bizarre but bright future ahead of her. She always felt that she would be stuck with the life that her parents have dictated for her; graduate from middle school with high honors, maybe get into a sport that is “girlier” than field hockey, become a valedictorian or even a salutatorian in high school, go to prom with a good, Jewish boy, get into a prestigious business program in any of the Ivy League, graduate with Latin honors, amongst other things. Future her seems to be on the right track… mostly. She wonders how Mom reacted to her going to a film school instead.
Maybe checking in on her future self hadn’t been such a bad idea, after all.
She heads for the stairs but halts when she sees a mop of curls bobbing up the stairs. Her back instantly faces the wall, and she whispers to herself, “Shit.”
She backtracks and heads for the bathroom, closing it partially. From the small gap, she sees Adult KJ open the door to her room—their room—dress swinging wildly behind her.
When she enters, Adult Mac immediately perks up, taking off her headphones. She smirks at her, “What the hell is that on your head?”
“It’s a hibiscus, thank you very much,” Adult KJ says primly, pushing Adult Mac’s hair behind her ear to put the flower. KJ frowns at the unexpected intimacy. “My mom strikes again, by the way.”
She leans on the chair, one arm hanging carelessly, “What’d she do? Forced you to change programs again? Conspicuously hinted that you should snag a husband soon?”
“Close. She's offered me up to Rick over break.”
Adult Mac cackles. “Rick the quarterback? Ooh, imagine, the jock king and queen. You should take her offer, Brandman.”
“Shut up, Coyle.”
She stands up and leans forward, whispering, “Make me.”
Adult KJ’s eyes flicker on her lips before she roughly grabs the lapels of her leather jacket, and she grins before she gently claims her lips on her own. Adult Mac rests her hands on her hips like she’s done this a million times before. She pulls her nearer until their heaving chests are flushed close. Adult Mac laughs breathlessly, kissing the corner of her mouth.
As if she’s been uprooted on that very spot, KJ doesn’t move. Not even a budge. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the scene, heart pounding heavily in her chest. Fuck. Fuck. What are they doing?
The last thing she sees is Adult Mac’s lips travelling from her jaw to her throat before she closes the door as quietly as she could, panting heavily. She stumbles to the side, feeling like her legs are about to give up on her. She sits and hugs her knees to her chest. It’s not real. It couldn’t be.
KJ stands up and paces for a while, feeling light-headed. She tries to blink away the image of herself kissing… kissing a…
A girl. A girl who is also her friend. Not just any friend, it’s Mac fucking Coyle. But if she had been kissing… her, then does that mean that she’s a…?
KJ whimpers, not daring to even voice out the word, much less think it. She leans her hands on the sink and looks at herself in the mirror. Just a normal girl. That’s right. She’s KJ Brandman, she couldn’t be… like that. Girls who are like that don’t look like her. Girls who are like that wear boyish clothes and have short hair and act like a boy.
Like… like Mac.
Shit. She has to get out of here. They need to get out of here.
With shaky hands, she opens the door, just a tad. The door to her room is closed, and she breathes in a sigh of relief. She starts walking down the hallway and flinches when she hears muffled laughs from her room. She walks faster, almost tripping on the last leg of stairs. Mind still racing, she sets out to look for Tiff and bumps into people on the way. She mutters her apologies when an old woman wearing a flower crown glares at her in particular. She finds Tiff in the same place she was before, who seemingly hasn’t moved an inch when she left her, nose still buried in Larry’s stupid journal.
KJ stops in front of her, feeling jittery, “We’re leaving.”
Tiff doesn’t even look at her, mumbling, “Just 5 more minutes.”
Aggravated, she yanks the journal from her hands, ignoring her noise of protest, and stresses each word, “We’re fucking leaving.” She forcefully slams the journal into her open hands and starts walking toward the door.
When she gets out of the house, she’s hit by the warm July air, making the already hot skin under her clothes feel like it’s burning, simmering inside out. She sits on the curbside and closes her eyes, resting her forehead on her knees. Immediately, the kiss replays on her head, seemingly zooming in closer to hands and mouths. She hadn’t seen what happens next when Adult Mac kisses her jaw but her mind seems all too eager to provide for her; Mac parts her hair, her fingers running through her hair then dropping to her back, to her arms, to every bit of skin she could find.
KJ stands up, breathing heavily as she paces back and forth. She’s going crazy, she must be. She doesn’t understand why she can’t get it out of her head. It’s nothing, it didn’t even happen—
The door swings open and the gang steps outside, with Erin and Mac talking animatedly, Tiff walking in front of them.
“Finally,” she mutters as she starts walking away from the house.
Mac is the first to protest, asking what happened. KJ feels her shoulders tense up at the sound of her voice; it was the same rasp, same cadence. She can’t even look at her right now. Even being near her, she’s convinced that her face must be blotchy and red. She tries to keep her distance and answer as normally as she could, but she feels like she’s hysterical, cold sweat dripping on her back. It was like the day of the Spring Fling tournament when she had played in a perpetual state of anxiety only this is much, much worse.
“I know something that you don’t know,” Erin says knowingly. KJ feels her entire body go cold and all she could manage is to tell her to shut up. Fuck. There’s no way Erin could have seen what happened. It’s fine. She’s fine. Erin just needs to stop talking. She talks about Rick for some reason, which frankly, she couldn’t care less about.
“Why are you being such an asshole right now?”
KJ doesn’t know why but this is what pushes her over the edge. She wants to yell that of course, she’s being an asshole! She’s perfectly entitled to do so! She just saw her future self kiss one of her friends! Not just any friends, a friend who is also a girl! That’s right, KJ Brandman might be a dyke!
She doesn’t say any of this. What she does instead is stomp in Erin’s direction, wanting to give her a piece of her mind, but then Mac is touching her shoulder and her face is way too close, and an alarm in her mind is going off. Mac’s eyes are pale blue, lighter than Adult Mac's. It was her, KJ realizes. It was her fault. She made KJ that way. She turned her somehow. Before she knows it, she’s yelling at her and punching her in the face.
The cloud of anger in her head clears when she sees blood dripping from Mac’s nose, coating her fingers. Fuck. Did she really do that? What is wrong with her? KJ has never been the kind of person who would get so mad that all the logic just flies out of the window. She’s not the kind of person who would let others take the brunt of her emotions. She refuses to be. All of the fight flies out of her all of a sudden, replaced by guilt which intensifies when she sees how much it had upset Tiff.
They follow Tiff, and she tries to hang in the back of the group, quiet as a mouse while she tries to ignore the feeling of Mac’s touch on her that still lingers.
She had been right; this was a terrible idea.
KJ tries to suck it up.
She can’t afford to have an identity crisis right now. The Old Watch is still hot on their trail and they could find them anywhen and anywhere. The important thing is to stay together, outrun them like hell, and stick out for each other. She can’t do that when she’s freaking out all the while. Whatever she had seen… or had felt, she would have to put it off for another day. It can wait. Surviving this timeline, evading the bad guys, and trying not to starve in between that—that stuff goes first.
They hail a taxi on the way to a nearby club where Adult Tiff has instructed them to go. For the sake of everyone’s (and her) emotional state, she takes it upon herself to sit in front of the car. She doesn’t know if she can handle being close to Mac right now, where their arms can easily touch each other, where she can smell the smell of smoke and mint from her breath, where her eyes will inevitably land on the small mole on her neck.
She remembers the first time she noticed it. It was the first day of summer vacation, but KJ wasn’t allowed to sleep in late. She’s up early for a field hockey practice, having just finished her breakfast. She rushes to the door, just in time to see a girl drop a paper on her front paper and plop near the bushes. She takes a box of cigarettes from her pocket and sticks one to her mouth. It was the girl from the mall, the one who pushed her brother to the fountain. At first, she had mistaken her for a boy, and understandably so, what with the obscure band t-shirt, khaki shorts, and black combat boots. But her hair had been long that time, pulled into a ponytail with the upper half of her face slightly obscured by a baseball cap.
“Um,” KJ says.
The girl side-eyes her, lighting up her smoke. She cranes her neck back and blows up a puff. Her eyes fixate on the mole on her neck. Small. Too dark against the paleness of her skin. She turns away. Her mother has always taught her that it’s rude to stare at people.
“You mind?”
“Not at all,” she says, smiling politely.
KJ gets on her bike and gets on with her morning. But it’s not the last time she will hear about the papergirl who smoked. Mac gained notoriety for being a troublemaker by getting into arguments with old people and fighting with the other paperboys. She’ll never tell another soul this but she admired her tenacity there and then. She just seemed so carefree; wild and untamed.
They arrive at the place nearing midnight. She ignores the driver’s suspicious look, slamming the car door behind her. When they enter the club, KJ feels apprehensive all of a sudden. The neon lights, the strong rank of mixed alcohol, and the mesh outfits—it doesn’t feel like it’s the kind of scene Tiff would be into.
Then again, your adult self can surprise the hell out of you. She learned that tonight.
She puts her wariness aside and tries not to look into their surroundings much. She tries not to look too bewildered being in a club, but she figures it’s okay since the club-goers look just as confused as they are.
“Your nose!” Erin says. KJ snaps her head at Mac and sure enough, blood is dripping on her nose, trailing down her chin. Guilt forms a fist on her chest, gripping her from the inside out. Why oh why did she do that?
Tentatively, she holds a hand out to touch Mac’s skin but never got the chance to because she slaps her hand away. “Hey, get off of me, psycho!”
Mac storms off. She retracts her hand away, stung by the rejection. She has every right to feel angry at her. She had been livid and terrified and she took it out on her. It isn’t fair. It’s not Mac’s fault that she’s… she’s…
KJ has to fix this. She tries to follow Mac but Erin stops her. She watches them go. She gets the message instantly. She’s probably the last person she wants to see right now. She’ll try again tomorrow.
But she needs to figure this out, whatever this is, first.
She turns behind and starts walking to the exit when out of her periphery, she sees two girls dancing together, their identical smiles seem to glow even brighter in the dark. The other girl has her arms wrapped around the other’s neck, and their foreheads rest together. KJ looks away and walks quickly.
She sits by the sidewalk and thinks for a long time. About the kiss and its implications. About what went on, or what will go on. Do Mom and Dad know? If they don’t (most likely), who does know? Is it a secret?
It has to be. Homosexual people are… just not a thing in Stony Stream. Boys are just too sensitive and girls are just too tomboyish sometimes. Most of the time, they outgrow it. She wonders how it happened. KJ has never kissed anyone, much less dated anyone. There was a boy in preschool whom she “married” but that was just preschool play. It’s not real.
It probably happened in New York. Adult Mac said they didn’t click until much later. They probably met in New York and…
How does that even work? A relationship with two girls just sounds so bizarre to her. It’s uncharted territory, undiscovered land. She remembers the two girls from the club, and how comfortable they looked with each other. Even in such a dark, secret space, they looked… free. Normal. Like a real couple. She feels a slight flutter in her stomach.
Maybe homosexuality is more common in New York. Or anywhere outside Ohio. Who knows.
She had been so deep in thought that Tiff had to tap her to call her attention. When she looks up at her, she’s standing with a tall woman with long, dyed braids and a cool party girl outfit. KJ blinks at the two of them, and she stares a little too long at the woman, stunned by her beauty. She has a strong jaw and her eyelids glitter in the moonlight. She feels like she’s seen her before…
“Oh, you’re Adult Tiff!”
Both Tiffs give her an identical grin. Tiff proudly crosses her arms, “Awesome, right?”
She nods, awed by the two of them. “You guys look like you’re sisters.”
Adult Tiff chuckles and points to a gray Jeep, “You guys can wait by my car. I’m just gonna get my stuff.”
They both nod and start walking in the direction of the car. KJ climbs on the top of the engine, finding the optimal sitting spot. Tiff turns to her, “I’m just gonna find Mac and Erin.”
She nods, feeling less-than-helpful all of a sudden. She watches Tiff run back to the club, leaving her to her thoughts again. KJ leans, letting her back rest on the hood. She stares at the moon for a while and thinks of studying film. She wonders what kind of films she’d made. She hasn’t watched a lot of films, and when she does, it’s always stuff like E.T and The Goonies but she’s not sure if it counts. She remembers being obsessed with Pretty in Pink as well. She watched it so much that she thinks maybe that’s where her parents got the idea to make her Shabbat dress pink.
She doesn’t even like the movie that much, she just thinks that Molly Ringwald is so cool. There’s something so pleasant with the way she speaks.
KJ suddenly sits upright. Shit, does that make her gay?
As if on cue, Tiff comes back. She pokes her shoulder gently, “Where are the others?”
“They should be here soon.”
She nods in understanding. The smaller girl sighs out loud, slumping as she leans on the bumper. KJ frowns, worried. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just tired,” Tiff yawns.
“Good thing we have somewhere to sleep tonight, huh? Future you is so nice,” she pauses, “How did she take the whole time travel thing?”
“Surprisingly well. She has some ideas on how we got here.”
“Do you think she can take us home?”
She seems to ponder on that, “I honestly don’t know.”
Mac and Erin arrive, followed closely by Adult Tiff. The others talk about her for a while, echoing the sentiment she has. Adult Tiff does seem like a party girl, and KJ thinks it’s pretty cool that she’s both smart as hell and plays well with other people. The woman offers them a hug and she sighs at how good it feels. She squeezes even tighter, not caring how needy it makes her look. It has been an exhausting week, and she’s entitled to many hugs as she can.
After the hug session, they strap in and head to Adult Tiff’s place. As soon as she says that they can all take the bed, Mac, and Erin quickly take off their shoes and claim the bed. KJ sighs, too tired to argue, and settles on the foot of the bed and tries not to think too much about the fact that the back of her thighs is touching Mac’s feet. After a few minutes, she’s out like a light.
When KJ blinks her eyes open, there’s a fleeting moment of panic where she doesn’t recognize where she was straightaway. But as she wakes up more fully, the events of yesterday play hazily on her head like a film reel. She tries to recount everything she knows, still lying on her bed. She has time travelled from 1988 to 2019 and then to 1999. The Old Watch is trying to kill them for this very reason. She has met her future self and it went… not so well. They’re now with future Tiff who is very receptive to their time travel hijinks.
When she sits up, her gaze turns to Mac’s sleeping face, drawn to it like small moths to a streetlight at night. Her legs are spread, the other almost touching the floor. Her left arm is tucked under her head, the other resting on Erin’s face. She sleeps with her mouth open, making KJ giggle at the sight. Despite being a blanket hogger and drooling on the pillow, she’s never looked so peaceful. Without the frown and the crinkled forehead, she looks like a… normal girl.
Something flutters in KJ’s stomach, spreading shivers throughout her body. She stands up, frowning. Weird.
After taking a quick shower, she steps into the living room and is greeted by the strong smell of coffee. Adult Tiff is poised in the kitchen, pouring a cup for herself. She looks at it longingly. She’s always wanted to try coffee, but Mom wouldn’t let her, always say that it would stunt her growth. It’s definitely working since she’s a good foot taller than most girls in school.
The woman turns to her and smiles kindly at her, “Morning. You’re up early.”
“Good morning,” she leans in on a pillar, “I sleep less than others. I think my body is not used to… this, I guess.”
Adult Tiff nods like she knows exactly what she’s talking about, “You’re homesick. I was the same when I first started studying at MIT. But then I got used to it and it got better.”
Homesick. She’s heard her cousin say this once before when she went home for the holidays. She missed her room in Stony Stream so much that she cried herself to sleep once. At first, she had laughed at her then. Who would miss Stony Stream? Nothing ever happens here. But now, she gets it a little.
“You want breakfast?”
“Um…” KJ looks at the clock. 9:29 am. “Maybe later? I’m just going to get some air.”
“Okay, take this,” She fishes a few dollars from her pocket and hands it to her. KJ laughs uneasily, shaking her hands in protest. Adult Tiff pulls her hands and firmly places the money on her palms, “Take care out there, okay?”
“I will,” she pockets the money, smiling shyly, “Thanks.”
Thankfully, the theater is only a walking distance from Adult Tiff’s apartment. She walks down the familiar, yet entirely different street. New stores have popped up, and everything looks more… digital. She tries not to waste too much time studying the different types of cell phones and computers being showcased in the stores, or the way everything seems to be bare and muted, less flashy. People, especially girls, seem to be more comfortable wearing less clothing in public. She finds that a nice surprise.
When KJ arrives at the theater, she suddenly feels like chickening out. Her heart is pounding so hard that she doesn’t know if it’s because of the desire to know if Adult Mac is right, if she in fact, loves film as much as she says she does, or if it’s because of the fear that if she’s right, then everything else is true. She enters the theater and is slightly disappointed when she hears that she missed the first one but the ticket agent tells her that The Shining is just about to start. She hesitates before handing her the money for the ticket.
Entering this theater room feels like crossing a vital threshold in her life. Her eyes adjust to the darkness, and her ears to the loudspeakers. The previews start and she stares, amazed at how clear the movie screen is, not unlike in 1988. She sees that she shares the room with two more people, whom she immediately is Adult Mac and KJ.
She takes a seat behind them, just a few rows over. She watches them talk in hushed voices and giggle with each other for a while. Adult KJ throws popcorn at Adult Mac’s head, and in return, she shoves a bunch of Zours in her mouth. They truly look at ease with each other, and she’s never seen herself be like that with another person, bordering on playful heckling.
Maybe… maybe Mac brings out something in her that she didn’t know she had.
More people start pouring in and finally, the film starts. It’s not like anything she has ever seen, and it’s not something her parents would allow her to even see. But she finds it fascinating, anyway. It isn’t the usual kid-friendly stuff she sees in the movies or on the TV. It didn’t occur to her until now that movies can be like this. Some things went completely above her head and it’s terrifying in a way that is very real, which is extremely interesting and new to her.
When the credits roll, KJ leaves the theater room quickly, feeling like an entirely new person. She leans on the wall, washed with something indescribable. She doesn’t love film, not yet, but she feels as if a seed of something like excitement is planted within her. Suddenly, she wants to go home and watch all the movies there are in the world.
This means that what Mac was saying was true. About her liking films. Which means… The other thing was true, too.
Feeling anxious, she fiddles with the flyers near the concession stand. She wants to know the truth, but she doesn’t even know the right question to ask, or which answer she would like to receive. When the two get out of the theater room, she forces herself to go to them. They seem to banter for a bit before Adult KJ walks in the direction of the bathroom and Adult Mac yells behind her, “That’s it, I’m getting you a coffee, so you shit yourself during 2001!”
“Mac!” Future her shout-whispers, embarrassed but smiling. She rolls her eyes and flips her off. Adult Mac just laughs.
KJ gulps, gathers her courage, and marches towards Adult Mac. “Hello!”
“Hey, beanpole,” she looks surprised, “You actually came.”
KJ shakes her head good-naturedly, used to Mac’s affinity for nicknames.
“Wait, did you watch The Shining? I don’t think those are for kids. How old are you, even?” she snickers then, “You know what, never mind. I watched things that were way worse when I was your age.”
“It was pretty good. I didn’t know horror could be like that. I guess I was used to stuff like Aliens.”
“Psychological horror is the shit!” she yells, and KJ laughs at how animated she looks. “You should have sat with us, dude.”
“It’s okay. I came in late and I didn’t want to bother you guys.”
“Fuck off. Watching a movie is so much better with other people.”
The conversation comes to a halt and KJ takes this opportunity to ask what she wanted to ask. She blurts out, “When did you know?”
“Know what?”
The words stumble out of her, barely stringing into a coherent sentence, barely forming sense. She chuckles, reddening in mortification, “When… did you know… that you were someone who liked…” Girls. “…movies?”
Fuck.
How did you know you liked girls only? Is there a process or a test I can do, to actually make sure? How can you tell if you like girls in a ‘regular friends’ way or in a ‘girlfriends’ way? What do we call ourselves? Gay? Lesbian? Dyke? How did I know that I liked you that way? When will we get to that point? She wants to scream the burning questions but all she can manage is one, incomprehensible question, “I mean, how did you know that you were someone who felt this way about…”
“Movies,” Adult Mac finishes for her. Understanding dawns on her face. She looks at her gratefully, feeling like she had aged for 20 years, just getting all that out of her system. She feels relieved that they both seem to be speaking the same language.
She seems to think about this for a while, running the piercing on her lip with her tongue in an antsy manner, then finally starting with, “I was sixteen when I realized I was into… movies. When I was a kid, there was this… movie that I liked. I didn’t even know I liked it that way. I did the whole pulling pigtails thing because I didn’t know how to deal with it, or what even is it.
“Then I found this movie,” she jerks her head to the general direction of where Adult KJ is, and KJ holds her breath, “At first I thought, oh, this is just a regular movie. And I haven’t had a lot of those in my life. I was kind of a little shit. But then I started feeling these stupid butterflies in my stomach like all that crap chicks say in the movies. I used to laugh at that shit a lot but it was real. And then I just knew.
“The truth is, it’s up to you. Sometimes, you just know. Don’t listen to your head much, listen to this,” she points at her heart, “and this.” then at her crotch.
KJ blushes as Adult Mac laughs, “But all that stuff can come much, much later, the important thing is that you love whoever the fuck you want to love. People are going to be assholes about it but fuck them, right?”
“Yeah. Fuck them,” KJ says, feeling overwhelmed. She sees future her walking nearer so she backtracks, “I got to go.”
The woman tilts her head in bewilderment, “Uh, bye?”
KJ walks the long way home, packed with a brand new perspective.
You just know. It’s vague, but she gets it somehow. She has a feeling that there’s no logical reasoning needed much when it comes to love, that you just have to let yourself feel it. She thinks about Mac, deliberating her feelings for her and deciding whether she needs to confirm it to be sure. But then she remembers Adult Mac’s words, how she needs to use her heart and not her head. If she doesn’t screw it up by saying all the wrong things or punching her out of nowhere, they should be on the right track.
Shit, she really needs to apologize for that.
When she gets back to the apartment, she heads straight to the bedroom, giving Adult Tiff clipped answers about what went on with her walk. It’s not as if she can just outright say it, can she? I went to the cinema to discover my love for films with my future self and her girlfriend (who so happens to be Mac, by the way.) Oh also, I might like girls. It feels weird, keeping this huge secret about herself. She wants to tell someone about it, but who can she tell really? In spite of the fact that they’ve gone through this traumatic ordeal and bonded together, Mac was right: they aren’t exactly the bestest of friends.
She plops down on the bed, holding the can of soda to her chest, and closes her eyes. It’s a strangely good feeling; having a kind-of answer for the question she didn’t even know she needed an answer for. It feels like she knows herself a little better.
From a distance, the door slams close and she hears Mac’s familiar scratchy voice say, “I’m going out for a smoke.” which is then followed by footsteps coming up the stairs.
Her heart speeds up. This is her opportunity to talk to Mac. She stands up and catches sight of herself in the mirror. Self-consciously, she pats down her wild curls and lets out a huge sigh to psych herself up. Time for an overdue apology.
KJ goes up the stairs that lead to the roof, finding Mac there with her hands resting on top of the half wall. She hangs back near the door, keeping her distance. “I’m sorry.”
Mac makes no indication that she hears her. Hesitantly, she sidles up next to her and starts telling her about what she found out about herself these past couple of days. Once she starts talking, she never stops and Mac seems to oblige her, accompanying her with sarcastic quips and half-hearted questions. It’s crazy; she and Mac haven’t known each other very long, having just met that one fateful Hell Day, but here she is, all too comfortable with sharing the very private thoughts of her mind. Maybe it’s the fact that she knows they’ll form a deep bond, or maybe it’s something else entirely.
“I think that maybe…” KJ doesn’t know why she still has to grapple with herself to find the words. She has it all figured out. She just needs to say it out loud. “I think she might be…”
A lesbian. That’s what she is. KJ Brandman is a lesbian. The word feels foreign still, but the more she conceptualizes it, the more familiar it gets. Welcome, even.
“Or, I guess,” she inhales deeply, “I might be–“
“You know what happens to me?” Mac says, not facing her. She doesn’t wait for her answer, “I die.”
KJ stares at her, perplexed.
“Yep. Brain cancer. I make it all the way to 24.”
She exhales, not believing what she’s hearing. It feels like someone has dropped a bunch of bricks into the pit of her stomach. She does the math inside her head. The laden feeling grows even heavier.
“That’s a year from now, Mac. Jesus.”
“Dead in one year. Dead in twelve years. That’s perspective for you.”
She starts talking about her brother Dylan, who told her that she was dead in 2019. She talks about how her death made her brother turn his life around, and about how she tells herself that it gets better, that she’ll get away from Stony Stream. How everything feels shitty right now but there must be something better in the future. KJ has never heard her talk this much about herself before, so she listens intently. She feels the tears fall to her cheek and she doesn’t do anything to stop them. She lets herself feel the despair Mac must be experiencing tenfold.
“I get about what, 6 or 5 years until I leave this miserable shithole. But then, I kick the bucket anyway. Fucking thanks, universe, I guess.” Mac angrily wipes her cheeks, laughing bitterly. She doesn’t waste a second and pulls her into a hug, feeling her shake in her arms. It doesn’t last very long and Mac forcefully pushes her apart, demanding that she doesn’t tell anyone. She storms away and KJ is left alone to stew on her morbid revelation.
She thinks of Adult Mac, with her half-smirks and restless limbs, looking perfectly, deceptively healthy.
Mac doesn’t talk to her until the next day. It took a lot of gentle coaxing and generally just outright following her around until she turns to her with the most irritated look on her face, “Okay, fine, Jesus! You win! But we are not talking about this.”
They talk about it.
She decides to do nothing about it, which just blows KJ’s mind. It’s like Mac doesn’t give a shit about what happens to her at all, which doesn’t sit right with her. She insists on her seeing a doctor, and gets a frustrating but ultimately, sensible answer. It isn’t like they have a lot of money, either. But right now, they have a lot of time until she gets sick. Why not take advantage of it? Don’t doctors always say that prevention is better than the cure? She knows her Bubbe Ruthie had cancer when she was young but she barely remembers it. What she does remember is the devastating blow to her family when death finally claimed her.
“I bet she’s sick right now,” Mac, chin resting on her propped-up knees, suddenly mutters, “I bet she’s in a hospital somewhere, sick as hell and bored out of her mind.”
KJ knows for a fact that that’s not a true. Adult Mac is most likely still here, maybe lounging in KJ’s bed, staying in all day to watch movies. She blurts, “She’s not.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw her.”
Her head snaps up, eyes widening. “What?”
“She’s in Stony Stream right now,” KJ doesn’t know why she’s saying this. “She was at the party.”
“Why the hell didn’t I see her, then?” she mutters. She goes back to glumly leaning her chin on her knees, but her hands are fiddling twitchily with the laces of her boots. Her voice are impossibly faint when she speaks, “How’d I look, then? Sunken eyes? Bald?”
“You looked okay, Mac. You were doing well. You were only here for the fourth of July, but you live in New York.” When Mac doesn’t say anything, she bumps their shoulders together, “You were in a band.”
She huffs out a laugh. KJ feels like she’s floating, seeing the lightness go back to Mac’s face. Even just for a second. She balks before opening her mouth, “If you want, we can go see her. We can tell her—”
“—that what? She’s dying in a year?” Mac shakes her head, “Nah. Let her live.”
“Mac, come on…”
“I just… I hope she’s with the people she loves,” she says gently before snorting, “Knowing me, probably not. Maybe I’m not worth a shit.”
“I think she is,” KJ says honestly, because it’s the honest-to-God truth. She’s seen it with her own two eyes. “And I think you’re worth a shit. I really want you to live.”
Mac turns to her, pale blue eyes wide and vulnerable, and gives her a rare smile. She feels her pulse quicken, and the fluttering in her stomach are back and finally, KJ understands. Sometimes, you just know.