Archive of Our Own ^beta

13

At thirteen, Vi had a spirit too big for her bones.

She lumbered out of her house in shoes too big for her feet, thundering down the streets to calm her storm of a temper. It was a habit of hers: running away when it all got too much. And never once did it fail her.

Mylo was just being unreasonable. Pow’s just a kid and he was supposed to be the one watching her and making sure that she didn’t find herself in trouble. It wasn’t like Powder was all Vi’s responsibility in the first place. She’s their sister too. Vander said so.

Vander said so often that the sound of his voice bound itself to the fibres of her throat, expelling as she yelled the same thing back at him.

It was late May, then, and way past dinner time too, so it was cold out. Cold out and Vi didn’t have the time to pick up a jacket, or even put on her own shoes.

She tread down that street, struggling to keep her toes touching the sole, stomping in every puddle she could find. It was dark out, sure, dark enough that Vander would be way mad when she got home, but the nights were getting lighter, days lasting longer. And the street lamps were just bright enough so that she could see where she was going and, more importantly, where the next well of rainwater sat in the pavement.

Each time, the cold water jumped up her legs, dampening her socks and slobbering within the shoes. She heard the squelch, felt the discomfort of a pebble rocking around in there with a lake of water, too, knowing all too well the feeling of having to remove wet socks. She felt like she was on her way home from the beach, only she wasn’t quite going home.

Suddenly, the graze on her knee that she’d garnered earlier that day didn’t hurt all that bad, even though she could feel the fresh scab peeling with every exaggerated slam of her foot.

Vi didn’t need a home. Not when stupid Mylo kept making stupid lies up about her sweet sister. Pow never did anything wrong and Claggor never did anything to defend her either. The fact he only ever shrugged when Vi asked him to confirm the truth made him just as bad as Mylo. Because he knew Pow did nothing and he still didn’t have the balls to defend her.

Stupid Mylo, with his stupid face and his stupid remarks and his natural ability to never know when to quit it. Stupid Claggor, with his stupid habit of ‘not wanting to be part of it’ and his stupid… just him. Stupid Vander with all of his stupid rants and his stupid lessons and his stupid never taking Vi’s side, not even when she deserves it.

She didn’t need a stupid home and didn’t need that stupid family either. It had been just fine when it was just her and Pow.

Vi turned a corner, turning her back against the wall of an alley she didn’t know. She didn’t know where she was—how could she? The only thing she cared about was getting away, and she was way more than a couple streets away from home by now.

And then, she’s not sure how, but she found it.

Tucked behind a mess of buildings, a labyrinth of backstreets and slim slip-streets between garden fences and businesses. Somewhere where the town meets the houses, where the buildings were more run down, she’d found a ladder.

With the anger drained from her body, her curiosity piqued. Vi took each rusted rung into her hand and hauled herself up, quickly, as if someone was watching her, as if they'd try and snatch her down if she hesitated for even a second.

When she reached the top, she dusted her hands off against her jeans, standing up and looking around.

It was a rooftop and, from the looks of it, it hadn’t been used in a long while. And the ladder that Vi had climbed? That’s the only way up.

She found herself smiling, just a little, as she walked right to the edge and found herself tall, looking over the majority of the city.

Not so bad, when you barely even leave the sumps. Not a bad view, either.

Vi wasn’t sure how long she spent there, but she headed home while the moon was still high in the sky.

Getting chewed out by Vander was almost worth it. Almost, even as he patched up her knee with the cleaning wipes and a bandage.

“You’re a good kid,” Vander said to her with a stupid but genuine-feeling smile.

Vi folded her arms and turned away from him but with her leg still propped in his lap. It didn’t work too well.

“Don’t let it get to ya,” he said for what felt like the thousandth time. “Get some rest. You have a long day tomorrow.”

He ruffled her hair before he sent her upstairs to bed, and Vi would be caught dead before she admitted that she really liked Vander. He was better than any of the other houses that tried to be her dad.

This one felt real.

It was only right that the rooftop became a place that Vi visited habitually: whenever she could, really. She’d stuff her bunk with pillows and climb down out of her window, venturing downtown until she eventually found the ladder.

The spot. Her spot. And only her spot.

She never intended on telling anyone about it.

It’s a good place to think, when you just need your brain to be quiet for, like, five seconds.

The city’s distant noise, with all of its closing shutters and loud engines, provided the perfect background chatter.

Whenever Vi felt a little too much of anything, this was the place.

The day her teacher found out that she cheated on that stupid math test, she went to the spot and she cried into her knees so much that her eyes were still raw when she climbed into bed that night. Vander never even found out.

The day she found out that her and Powder might be getting transferred out of Vander’s house, she went to the spot and tried, as best as she could, to squeeze that hot, spit-fire of anger until it was nothing but a bit of smoke in the wind.

The day she found out that Vander would legally be her dad for the rest of her life, she went to the spot and cried out in joy. A feeling of being wanted that she’d never had before. Even if it meant having to share a bathroom with her stupid brothers.

Over the course of weeks, months, even, she makes it into her own place. As summer takes the world in its chokehold, Vi set herself the goal of finding some scraps to build up the walls in one corner, but as a little shelter from the wind when autumn started blowing in. She found success by the time the end of August came rolling through.

It was her own little place. Her own home to change how she saw fit. To bring whatever she wanted and spend however much time she wanted, without needing anyone else. Not even Pow.

For once, something was all hers. Well and truly hers, not shared.

By the time her birthday rolled around in December, Vi found herself marking a new height on the kitchen doorway. Her spirit was still too big, but her bones were catching up. Slowly but surely, they were getting there.

14

At fourteen, everything starts to change. It’s not something that Vi likes. At first.

She’s static. She always had the same favourite colour (red, by the way), favourite food (anything from Jericho’s), favourite song (Waterloo, by ABBA, if you have to know), favourite person (Powder, no one can ever top Powder), favourite spot (the rooftop, obviously). Point is, she knew what she liked and what she didn’t and she definitely didn’t plan on changing them.

Then, she met Caitlyn.

And Caitlyn started showing Vi all of the things that she liked and, without even meaning to, Vi started to like them too. She wasn’t sure when or why it happened, but it did. And she had a new favourite movie, plus, that one song that Caitlyn’d been humming for an entire month started to get stuck in her head.

When Vi met Caitlyn, she was smack bang in the middle of being the shit out of a random kid for trying to take Powder’s lunch money. Vi’d caught wind of the bully, as one does when you make it an objective to fulfil your Big Sister Duties even when you’re on your way to class.

Caitlyn was the one that dragged her off of the kid, somehow. Who even knows how, because Caitlyn had been built like a twig. A whole ass chicken bone. Vi could have snapped her arm if she wanted to. Didn’t, obviously. Because it wasn’t Caitlyn that tried to fuck with her sister.

But it was Caitlyn who pulled her to her feet, handed her a handkerchief for her split lip and told her that she was walking her to her class like she was some sort of fucking hall monitor (and no one likes hall monitors).

After that, it was like Caitlyn was everywhere.

She was at every corner, always watching or whatever. And, somewhere along the line, they found things to talk about.

Caitlyn liked to listen. Listened to Vi about her jumping from house to house, city to city to the chronicles of her dumb brothers, about all the songs she liked, about the show that she’d been recording to watch on the weekend.

And then, Vi found out that maybe she likes to listen, too.

Caitlyn’s voice was irritating in a way that made her brain ache from the overly annunciated ‘t’s and her perfect articulation. She’d never admit to it, but she added Caitlyn’s voice to her list of things that she liked. Not because she did like it, but because the girl never shut up. She kinda had to like it.

Not that Vi wanted her to. Shut up, that is. She was interesting enough, she guessed. She could fill an entire novel with all of the things that Caitlyn told her about that she’d never even thought about.

It was just another day when Vi told Caitlyn about the spot. Her spot.

And Caitlyn smiled, that stupid gap in her front teeth and with that stupid grin on her face, stupidly asked if she could come and see Vi’s spot. She agreed, but only because Caitlyn made it hard to say no when she looked at her like that.

It’s early spring and the sun was barely warm on the Saturday morning that Vi led Caitlyn up that ladder.

Vi wondered if she had the same look on her face when she saw this place for the first time.

“Cool, right?” Vi said, shuffling off of the ledge after her and pushing forward. The ice of the previous night was still on its way to melting.

“You made this place yourself?” Caitlyn asked, rubbing her gloved hands together and raising her shoulders to her ears as she followed Vi into the space.

“Yup, pretty sick, if I do say so myself,” Vi said, walking over to the shelter she’d put together with scraps.

She leaned down to haul the plastic sheet off of the mattress before throwing herself down on it. It was ratty and uncomfortable but it wasn’t like it was much different from the one she had back at home.

“It’s amazing,” Caitlyn said and, without asking permission, took a seat on the edge of the mattress next to her.

Vi, of course, yanked her back by the hood of her jacket, not meaning to have put that much force into it. But Caitlyn began to giggle as she threw her arms back, landing on the mattress with a soft thump as she looked up at Vi.

Not a bad view, but Vi isn’t looking at the city.

“I like this place,” she told Vi. When she sat up, she gave her the littlest of smiles and then said, in an even littler voice, “Thank you for showing it to me.”

Caitlyn was the catalyst for change.

Caitlyn and her stupid smile and her stupid fancy coats that Vi just kept on getting dirty.

One of the things that seemed to lock into place was Caitlyn coming to the spot every weekend. If she’s lucky, sometimes she’d come after school and they’d sit out on the mattress until the very last minute they could, just because they could.

It’s not like they were even doing anything in particular. Just sorta sitting around, talking. Sometimes, Caitlyn brought cards or some boardgame in her bag that she’d obviously been carrying around all day just for that. Most of the time, though, they lay out on the ratty mattress, staring at the sky or the city, just thinking.

One day, Vi took the key to her old bike lock and she held it up, waving it in front of Caitlyn’s face. She’d looked at her curiously, asking her what she was doing as she furrowed her eyebrows.

Then, Vi turned to the flat sheet of scrap closest to them and carved a crooked ‘V’, and then ‘i’. She motioned to the wall and gave the key over to Caitlyn.

It took much longer and the name ‘Caitlyn’ was much messier, all of the letters were unevenly spaced and not quite in a line.

But, then, from that point on, it was their spot. Not just Vi’s.

And what was most surprising was that Vi didn’t mind sharing it all that much. She’d never bring Powder here, not in a thousand years, but Caitlyn never really was all that intrusive to begin with.

None of the changes are what Vi wanted, but some of them she actually liked. Like, you know. Caitlyn.

Getting a boyfriend, though, was namely not one of them.

It just felt wrong. In all the ways it could be, it was wrong.

Vi regaled the revelation to Caitlyn on a specific Saturday, when she’d walked all the way to her house to pick her up (the look that Mrs Kiramman gave her from the front door made her feel like she wasn’t even allowed within six feet of her daughter).

She told her about how holding his hand just felt weird and that they didn’t even get along all that well. All of the conversation just felt really forced and she just didn’t really want to be there anymore.

Vi still saw him as the friends that they’d been before, and it became more and more clear to her that she wanted it to stay that way.

“He called me babe, cupcake. Babe,” Vi said, the word feeling wrong on her tongue. “Can you believe that?”

“Why don’t you break up?” Caitlyn suggested.

“Uh, yeah, duh. I just don’t know how to tell him that I’m not into him like that without - like - hurting his feelings,” she said, laying back on the mattress.

Caitlyn fell into place beside her. “The sooner the better, I’d say. The longer you wait, the harder it’ll be for the both of you.”

Vi hummed, thought on it. Caitlyn was right. She always seemed to be, with her mind-like-a-dictionary and her weirdly too-wise-for-her-age advice. Caitlyn acted like she was way older than she was, didn’t really look it, not with the fact she still wore that shirt with the heart on the stomach (she refused to throw it out). It was instinct now to listen to Caitlyn, like she was some sort of celebrity on TV with one of those shitty kitchen products.

“You ever had a boyfriend?” Vi asked.

Caitlyn clicked her tongue. “God, no. I don’t like boys. They’re all idiots.”

“Girls aren’t much better,” Vi countered.

“I’d prefer to be friends with you over a boy any day.”

Vi leaned her head back to look up at Caitlyn. She had a disgusted look on her face, like the concept of boys offended her. “I’m not talking about being friends, though.”

“So what are you talking about?” Caitlyn asked, looking down at her, turning her head to the side so that Vi is almost the right way up.

“Y’know, the mushy stuff. Kissing and holding hands and stuff.”

“I guess I just don’t want to do that kind of stuff.” Caitlyn shrugged.

Vi furrowed her brow. Now that just wasn’t right. Of course she had to want to hold someone’s hand. It was, like, the standard, right? Everyone wants to have a boyfriend eventually.

“Ever?”

“Maybe someone will come along and change my mind but… I don’t think so,” she said, lips pursed.

“You’re weird,” Vi said, even though she didn’t really mean it.

“I’m not weird,” she defended. “I’m just a bit of a misfit, that’s all.”

“Same difference.”

The cutting sound of a car soaring down the street blasted through the quiet.

Vi shuffled further down the mattress, putting her feet up against the wall, just beside their carved names. Her converse were scuffed to shit, yet another reminder that she needs to at least wipe them down, but she tapped the toes together, then the heels.

She could probably be honest with Caitlyn. And if she did, it’s just one less person at her spot. It wouldn’t be that hard to cross out her name. It’d just look like she’d aggressively underlined her own name.

“You know,” Vi started. In her peripheral, she could see Caitlyn turn to her. “I don’t think I like boys.”

“That would make two of us.”

“Not like that. Like, I don’t like like boys,” she said.

“That still makes two of us?”

“No, you don’t get it. Like. I don’t want a boyfriend,” Vi tried and then swallowed hard.

“But why not? You’re extremely handsome, Vi, you’d have no problem getting boys to like you,” Caitlyn responded.

And to that, Vi felt like she’d just fallen down the stairs and smashed her head on the bannister again. Her entire face felt hot. “You think I’m handsome?”

“Well, of course,” Caitlyn said, tucking her legs upwards towards herself. “I don’t just think it, I know. Anyone could see that.”

Vi didn’t really know what to say or how to respond to that. So, instead, she just uselessly stared up at Caitlyn until the upside down world began to make her feel sick.

“Well. Uh, thanks,” Vi said. “But I don’t think boys would like me. They don’t like handsome girls and anyway, I don’t want them to either, like, I think handsome girls are supposed to be liked by girls. I’d prefer it. If girls liked me, I mean.”

Caitlyn’s ‘oh’ was followed by a long bout of pregnant silence.

“I didn’t even consider that as an option,” Caitlyn confessed, voice soft, like she didn’t want anyone hearing.

“There’s some people that say it’s wrong. Homophobia, I was reading up on it.”

“You? Reading?” Vi punched her leg and she laughed, a little loudly. “There are some horrible people out there,” Caitlyn said. “But we have each other, right?”

Vi smiled, rolled onto her stomach and then sat up. “Right.”

Vi was fourteen when things started changing and she was only just figuring out what it meant to love.

15

At fifteen, Vi felt like she could conquer the world with her bare hands.

Especially when she managed to convince her stubborn ass of a best friend, Caitlyn, to skip school. It had only taken a year for her to do and finally gave in. It took a lot of convincing over the year but it finally happened.

That and - yeah - they were best friends now.

It was weird being able to rely on someone that wasn’t Pow, or even related to her in any way. But it was the good kind of weird. Like the kind of weird you feel when you accidentally get a little too close to someone and you get that jitter. That’s what calling Cait her best friend felt like.

“Vi, I really don’t think this is a good idea,” she mumbled, ducking her head and shouldering her backpack as they walked down the street.

“I’ve done this, like, a thousand times,” Vi said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“A thousand more times than you were supposed to.”

“C’mon, Cait, you need me to hold your hand so you feel better?” Vi teased, feeling her own sly smirk.

Caitlyn raised her head and squared her shoulders. Just when Vi thought she was going to start walking again, she stuck her hand out expectantly. It took her a few seconds to process, but, of course, Vi took it. Why wouldn’t she?

Cait’s hand was soft and warm in her own, even though her hands were a little bigger than Vi’s, it felt right. The feeling wasn’t new, either: they’d taken to holding hands recently. Without reason, most times, just because it felt nice to hold another person’s hand.

And - for the record - Vi definitely didn’t have a raging crush on her best friend. She didn’t, honest. And she definitely didn’t imagine showing up at the Kiramman residence singing Rude by MAGIC! - she really, honestly didn’t. Well, not every time anyway. But it wasn’t something that she’d ever admit to.

“I still don’t think we should do this,” Caitlyn insisted.

“You worried your folks’re gonna find out?”

Caitlyn hummed and nodded, just the once. “Yeah.”

“I’ve been skipping for years and my– Vander’s pretty into all of the whole ‘keeping track of my progress’ shit. He’s never found out to this day,” Vi boasted, swinging their arms between them gently. Experimentally, she untangled their hands so that she could knot their fingers together.

Caitlyn gave her hand a hearty squeeze.

“And for your parents, they don’t really give a fuck, right? So how’d they know?”

“I just have a bad feeling,” Caitlyn repeated.

“It’ll be fine, c’mon, we gotta go before someone sees us.”

Then, of course, she made some comment about how it was definitely a bad idea if they needed to avoid being seen, but she settled down when they finally made it up to the spot.

Vi threw her backpack down and pulled the cover off of the mattress. She threw herself down onto it, letting out a breath of relief as she felt the ache travel up her back. Happy to be home.

“You bring the stuff?” Vi asked, putting her whole body into hauling herself into a sitting position.

“Of course I did.” And, on cue, Caitlyn unzipped her backpack and out tumbled a whole feast. Everything that Vi could think of buying from the school canteen, it was all there. Her favourite crisps and sugar-coated goodies in multi-colour bags. There were even individually packaged pastries. Fucking pastries.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to - like - pay for any of this?”

“You brought the radio, didn’t you?”

“Uh, yeah, obviously,” Vi said and if she wasn’t busy reaching for her own bag, she’d probably finish it with an eyeroll.

The zip on her bag got stuck half way and she let out a grunt of frustration as she yanked at it. Caitlyn crawled over, apparently around the colossal snack mountain, and took the bag from her. Vi was about to open her mouth to protest when, with a gentle force, Caitlyn ran her finger beneath the zipper, dislodging a piece of stuck fabric. After that, the zip slid open without another hitch.

“Right, yeah, thanks,” Vi said sheepishly.

Caitlyn remained just as close as she pulled out the radio she’d taken from her bedroom. It had been Powder’s, but she never really used it so it kinda just was Vi’s.

The thing is pink and flowery and has the Barbie logo printed across the centre of it and it’s perfect.

They sat and they played music through a muddy channel, the talk—a little too often for Vi’s liking—drifting back to the fact that they should’ve been at school.

After Vi shut her down for the bajillionth time, Cait finally settled down.

“Do you skip like this often?” Caitlyn asked.

Vi just shrugged. “Sometimes, I guess. Just when school’s too much.”

“‘Too much’?”

“Yeah. Like, when I’m feeling too overwhelmed, I’ll come here instead of going to class.”

Caitlyn hummed, twiddling with a small piece of her hair. “I see.”

As she let the lock go, Vi reached out to fix it for her. It was a habit. She did it to Powder all the time and Cait’s hair was almost the same length and Pow’s and…

“You have really soft hair,” Vi said, not really meaning to at all.

“I do?” Caitlyn reached to grab at the side that Vi wasn’t touching, as if to check for herself. “I suppose I never realised.”

“Yeah. Real soft,” Vi said. And then, before she can stop herself: “Can I braid it?”

Caitlyn turned to her. The question, as a concept, seemed to completely baffle her, almost like she didn’t even know what a braid was in the first place.

“Sure,” she eventually replied. “I - uh - I’ve never really had my hair braided before.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

Vi tutted. She moved to grab an old box of some kind - thankfully sturdy enough to hold her weight - to sit on, before ordering Caitlyn to sit in front of her. She did so. Grabbing the sides of her head, Vi tilted her chin up until Caitlyn was basically staring up at the sky.

“I braided Pow’s all the time when she was little. Doesn’t let me now, though. Does her own,” Vi said. Her fingers ran through locks the colour of midnight, letting them fall through her fingers again and again. As gently as she could, she tugged knots free until she was satisfied enough to begin the braid.

With Caitlyn’s eyes open, looking up at the sky, it was like Vi finally saw what colour they were. Vivid and crisp, like the colour of midsommar, or like, a really blue car. Pretty.

Blue eyes suited Cait best.

“Sorry if I tug your hair,” Vi said.

A dorky smile came across Caitlyn’s face and that glint in her eyes lasted long after Vi had finished. Caitlyn kept running her hands over the braid, over and over, until the wispy bits came out and hung around her face.

Not a bad view, either.

She’s really pretty, Vi thought.

Vi kept thinking that, every time she saw a face that Caitlyn hadn’t pulled before, or every time she did that one smile, or every time she caught Cait looking off into the distance, features relaxed, not really looking at anything in particular.

She felt something begin to swell in her chest. A crush. A real one.

Which is probably why Vi is a little too excited when Caitlyn hugs her for the first time.

It wasn’t a good reason. Of course not. Another argument at home, with Powder that time. And when Caitlyn found her at the spot, Vi couldn’t help but cry as she woefully explained what had happened.

Caitlyn had taken her into her arms like it was the most natural thing in the world, a solid grasp around; she smelled of something sticky sweet and a nameless something that made Vi’s gut tug. She wrapped her arms tighter around her and Caitlyn let it happen, holding her tighter in return.

“It’s better to cry than to hold it in. That’s what mother always told me,” she said, softly. The words were brisk and light but they meant a lot to Vi, at the time. A comforting solace, a tranquil voice and a kind word could go a long way.

“I just want to hug you all the time,” Vi said into Caitlyn’s neck, her voice a low grumble.

“You can,” Caitlyn said. “Whenever you want to.”

“Really?” Vi pulled away from her, just long enough to look into her eyes. Such a beautiful blue. But why was Caitlyn crying, too?

“Really.”

As soon as the word left her lips, Vi grappled her again, holding her close. Grateful.

Vi never knew that hugs were something that a person could get addicted to. Maybe they’re not. Maybe it’s just something about Caitlyn - because she was well and truly hooked on her.

Vi was fifteen when she decided that Caitlyn was made of elect-fucking-ricity.

She found herself laid out on her lap way too often. Caitlyn was just comfy, and the mattress was cold and hard and lumpy and smelly and Caitlyn was anything but those things.

When Vi shaved the side of her head, she discovered how good it feels to have someone run their hands through your hair.

With her head in Caitlyn’s lap, her hands felt like magic. Jitters ran down her spine when her hands brushed through the freshly shaven areas.

“You curl up, almost like a cat,” Caitlyn said, one day, fingers locked in her hair, just the right amount of pressure. “When I do this.”

“Feels good,” Vi responded, simply. Eyes closed, half-asleep and yet, every single one of her nerves seemed to light up when Cait used her other hand to brush a lock from out of her eyes.

She turned, looking completely up at her. Vi could feel her own stupid grin. And Caitlyn gave her one back. Teeth and all.

Caitlyn had told her, once, that she hated the gap in her front teeth, that it made her feel stupid for smiling, that one comment from a random ass loser made her want to cover up her smile for good. Vi never wanted to go back in time and fuck someone up so bad.

Anyone who made Caitlyn feel bad about just… being her deserved the worst forms of torture. She’d feed them rotten fruits and whole, meaty dinners blended to a smoothie. Make them grow up and apologise to her face. Because no one, no one fucks with Caitlyn. Especially not with a smile like hers.

And if they fuck with Caitlyn, they fuck with Vi too.

She closed her eyes, leaning back into Caitlyn’s thighs, knowing that this could never end. Knowing it could never ever end because Cait was her best friend and nothing would ever come between them, not if Vi had anything to do with it.

And not those stupid feelings that made her face warm, either. Not even those.

Only, there is something.

It would come months later, in the denouement of summer, when Vi was least expecting it.

Things were starting to look up at home. She hadn’t argued with Mylo in, like, a week and he was finally starting to respect Powder. And, speaking of Powder, she was getting really good with her drawings. Really good.

Shit, things were starting to get good everywhere. She hadn’t got into shit with her teachers for a good few months, she even stopped skipping class. Her grades were looking up. She turned down the kid that offered to give her a shitty stick and poke. Sure, she didn’t see the spot as often, but she got to walk home with Cait. Or walked as far as she could before their houses were in different directions.

And then it came along.

It being Caitlyn’s girlfriend.

Vi didn’t even know that Caitlyn liked girls too, and there she was, off holding another girl’s hand and going to her house and doing all of the things that Vi thought were just for them, like it was nothing. Like Vi was nothing.

Suddenly, they weren’t walking home together, and Caitlyn hardly even came to the spot anymore. Even on weekends. It was like she forgot about their regular routines and places to be at certain times, as if their schedules had unsynced and Vi was left in a limbo of being… well… alone.

And it was fine.

Pow wanted to do some catching up, anyway. So no harm, no foul. Just find the place that Caitlyn had been and plaster a poster over the top of it.

“Vi, hey Vi!” a voice called after her one day. Well-articulated and pristine and perfect and, most importantly, familiar. Caitlyn.

Vi had long stopped waiting for her afterschool, but something in her gut sparks. Like the sharp edge of flint striking steel, setting the tinder alight. The hope that Caitlyn would be upset that she started leaving her behind in return. If it was so easy for Caitlyn to do it, Vi could do it too.

She turned and Caitlyn was there, running after her with a too-big backpack and that silly, goofy smile. Like she didn’t even realise that Vi had stopped waiting for her.

Maybe it was selfish to think that she would have noticed in the first place.

“I keep missing you, recently. Where’ve you been?” Caitlyn bent at the hip, heaving to catch her breath, apparently having had to run to catch up with Vi.

‘Anywhere you’re not,’ she wanted to say.

“Same place I’ve always been.” Vi shrugged, shoving her hands into her pockets and dragging her feet as she slowed to accommodate Caitlyn’s fatigued pace. “Around.”

“Have you been to the spot?”

Vi’s almost honest. Almost said that she hasn’t, because it’s not the same without her there. Almost admits that she missed her.

“Yeah,” she responded. “Been up there, just chillin’ I guess.”

“Oh yeah!” Caitlyn said, excited as she hoisted her bag over her shoulder, eyes alight, like she had something that she needed to tell her.

“Are you gonna be there later?” Vi asked. She hated the way hope sounded in her own voice.

“Oh - uhm - I won’t be. I’m meeting Dylan later… so…”

“No. No, yeah. It’s fine. Yeah.” Vi blinked as the harsh blade of rejection dug into her gut. “It’s fine.”

“Is that okay? I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know, I really like her, Vi. I think she might be the one,” Caitlyn sighed whimsically. “I get all… I don’t know. Fluttery when she holds my hand.”

‘And you like her more than you like me?’ Vi wanted to ask, but she knew the answer.

Caitlyn could have any best friend that she wanted, it’s not that Vi was special or anything. It’s not like Caitlyn was special to Vi, either. She didn’t need a best friend. Didn’t really want one either.

“Yeah. You seem happier with her,” Vi said.

And Caitlyn either chose not to hear the bitter tone or simply didn’t pick up on it, because she sighed once more and said, “Yeah,” like stupid Dylan was the best thing to ever happen in her stupid life.

Vi skipped school the next day. Spent the time when she should have been studying lounging around at the spot. Over the course of the day, she alternated between kicking around a roof tile that had somehow made its way there and laying out on the mattress, waiting for the sun to move.

It was starting to get cold out, the weather plummeting. She wouldn’t be surprised if it snowed or something. She watched the sun move across the sky with a shiver, and cursed it for not being warm. Like it was the sun’s fault that it was starting to become autumn and she’s cold and alone at a spot meant for two.

On the fourth day of avoiding Cait, being in their spot, the names carved into the metal around the mattress began to stare down at her. Looming like some sort of fucking evil demon of Making Vi Miss Cait and that was not something that she wanted to have around when she was distinctly trying to Think About Anything But Her.

So she took that old key and she drew another jagged line, right through Caitlyn’s name.

She hadn’t been here in weeks. Almost a month. It’s not like she’d care, anyway.

Right?

And yet, as soon as the line crossed through the ‘C’, Vi felt so sick that she felt like she could puke with guilt. She left soon after, key tucked between her fingers, hand shoved deep in her pockets.

It looked like she’d messily underlined her own name, only the letters of Caitlyn’s were still so clear.

Vi dealt with being yelled at by Vander for being home during the day because it felt like a punishment for what she did to Cait. But then, he sat her down and asked what was wrong. And it didn’t take all that much prodding before it all came out. And it came out with the kind of ugly crying she never wanted to show anyone. And he didn’t laugh or make fun of her or even gave her those stupid pity looks.

Vander wrapped an arm around her, let her lean into him. And he made her favourite meal for dinner, and even made sure that she got the biggest serving.

Just being that little bit fuller made the space that Cait left behind feel smaller. No need to cover it up with a poster.

She was jealous, she noticed for the first time. Had been from the very beginning, apparently. She’s not a jealous person, but she’s also not Dylan. Dylan, who clearly occupies every waking moment of Cait’s day because she had no time for Vi.

And she was bitter. If that wasn’t obvious. Sour as a fucking lemon.

Bitter and sour and petty. If it was so easy for Caitlyn to drop her—just like that—then maybe Vi hadn’t meant as much to her as she thought she did. Maybe crossing out her name hadn’t been a bad thing.

Vi’s spot. Hers. No one else's.

It’s almost like the universe hated Vi and demanded that she repent for being an asshole. Because there Caitlyn was, little by little, trickling back into Vi’s life like she’d never even left.

Playful jabbed elbows between the ribs and ruffled hair, calling her something silly and then fixing it for her. Walking home with her, a little farther than she’d walked with her before. Talking with her in school hallways. And then, one day before school, she waited for Vi at the gates, grabbed her by the arm and asked if she wanted to skip.

It was the first time she’d ever asked to skip. It was only ever Vi that made her skip.

It was the first time that Caitlyn had ever asked to skip and her offer was near irresistible.

And Vi—she almost accepted.

Her mind flashed to the spot and how the tile she’d kicked around was broken and cracked and splitting in more places than ever before and there were her bootprints all up the metal walls, how the mattress was grosser than usual. Her mind showed her the image of the wonky line, like a lightning strike, through Caitlyn’s name and Vi’s hands started to shake as if she was still holding the key.

“Not today,” she said.

“Test tomorrow,” she lied.

“I gotta make dinner at home after, too. So, yeah. Can’t today. Sorry.”

Caitlyn’s eyebrows pulled together, like she didn’t believe her, and then her mouth twisted in a way that made it look like she was hurt. But it was nothing that Caitlyn hadn’t done to Vi. A taste of her own medicine, if Vi was into that petty shit.

She didn’t see Caitlyn and Dylan together in school, not in the halls hanging onto one another like they had been before. Instead, Dylan with her stupid blonde hair hangs out with her old friends, travelling in a group like a pack of stupid wolves. And Caitlyn was… somewhere. Doing Caitlyn things.

Of course, she caught up with her after school one day.

“Hey, Vi,” she said and she seemed almost sad. “I forgot. I got these for us.”

“What is it?” Vi asked.

Caitlyn held them out, holding them up by the metal ring. A matching set of keychains.

Two halves of a whole. One engraved with a ‘C’, the other a ‘V’. Set out like the ying yang symbol, like they completed each other.

“You got these for us?” She looked up at her.

Caitlyn smiled, wide but not quite the same. Maybe a little sad-looking. “Yeah. I saw it and I thought of you, so I wanted to get them.”

Vi took it from her, turned it over in her palm. Then, she pulled her keys out of her pocket to attach it, only to be met with the feeling of her stomach dropping to her ankles

The old bike key felt heavy in her hand. In her heart, too, if she’s honest. It’s like something in her soul aches for Caitlyn, and she wonders if there’s a way to fill in the scrapes through her name like it was never there in the first place.

She imagined herself trying to carve back over the letters in Caitlyn’s name. But the gash she made was too deep. Scarred the metal too far, irreparable, no matter if she dug Caitlyn’s name so deep her old key stuck through the metal like a dull blade.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she hugged Caitlyn, held her close like she used to, and then, before she could react, pulling away. Because Caitlyn wasn’t hers to hold that way anymore.

“Thanks,” she said, turning down to look at the keychain again.

But before she even knew it, Cait’s arms wrapped around her. And she melted into her embrace.

“I miss you,” Caitlyn said into her neck, wrapping a little tighter. They hadn’t been apart for that long, but Caitlyn was a little taller now. “Do you… not want to be my friend anymore?”

Caitlyn’s name, crossed out in their spot.

“I thought you didn’t like me anymore,” Vi confessed weakly. “You had Dylan so you didn’t need me anymore and-”

“That’s– preposterous!” Caitlyn pulled back, hands on Vi’s shoulders. “Even if I do have Dylan, that doesn’t mean I don’t need you anymore. By the time I… I realised that I’d left you all alone and by the time I realised that, you were just gone and I’m sorry.”

Caitlyn’s name, crossed out in their spot.

“I’m so sorry, Vi. I never meant to— I love you.” Vi’s breath hitched. “And I didn’t mean to disappear on you. I’ve been a real– a real arsehole to you, for no reason at all. I’m sorry. I’d understand if you didn’t want to be my friend.”

Vi never stood a chance. Caitlyn barrelled back into her life just as she had done the first time.

When Caitlyn saw what Vi did to her name, there was nothing at first. There was nothing but blankness on her face as she asked Vi if she did that while she was away. When Vi couldn’t give her a response, she did the worst thing she could have done and started to cry.

Vi could handle screaming, she should handle getting mad and yelling and blaming her and calling her names. She could handle being punished. But she couldn’t handle tears.

She couldn’t handle tears she knew she caused.

Vi never knew that it was possible for one person to cry like Caitlyn did. All she cried so much that Vi thought it was impossible for one person to cry that much. She cried until her throat was hoarse and Vi couldn’t stop apologising until she was crying too.

Caitlyn crying was never something that Vi wanted to see.

Anyone that fucked with Caitlyn fucked with her too.

She never really saw herself being the one to hurt her in the first place.

Vi was fifteen when she made a girl cry for the first time. Her best friend. She was also fifteen when she learned that being young means making mistakes and being stupid and bitter and jealous and crossing out the name of the person that means the most to you.

Vi was fifteen when she learned that Caitlyn Kiramman forgives and forgets just as easily as the sun brings morning.

(They flip the piece of scrap around so that they don’t have to see the crossed out name. They carve their names into the new, fresh side. Caitlyn made Vi promise that she’d never do it again—they pinky swore on it. Even if it was a kiddie thing to do.)

Their whole lives changed when Caitlyn figured out how to sneak her portable DVD player in her rucksack and brought it to the spot. It’s cold out, by then, but the scraps of metal provided a nice enough wind shelter.

Even if Vi’s fingers grew numb, she just wore gloves. Never reached for Caitlyn’s hand. Always kept her distance, not letting their shoulders touch for too long.

When you don’t know where the line is drawn, it’s easier to linger far behind than to toe it.

Caitlyn started renting out DVDs so that they didn’t have to re-watch the same four movies over and over again. A couple of the new animated films that came out, some older ones too, more often than not involving some sort of talking animal and some catchy songs.

They’re watching another rendition of Alice in Wonderland when Caitlyn remarked that she could surely go to Wonderland and her parents would have no idea. She said that they’ve been around even less lately and that she’d taken to dining with the house staff instead, just so she didn’t risk going to bed hungry.

“Of course they’d know,” Vi said. “They’re your mom and dad. They love you.”

Caitlyn stifled a laugh, pulled the DVD player closer on her lap. “That’s what you’d think. Sometimes I doubt that they even know I live with them, anymore.”

“That’s sad, Cait.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

Their movie nights became a regular occurrence. Their spot became theirs again and they were almost like they used to be.

Caitlyn didn’t really mention Dylan often. And when she did, it was usually in passing. Vi pretended that she didn’t want to commit homicide every time she heard the name. It was a silent game that she played with herself. A silly thing.

Caitlyn didn’t mention her often, and then she did.

They’re sitting on the mattress, not really talking anymore but they had been discussing the versatility of potatoes.

Vi was fiddling with her keyring, back against the wall, while Caitlyn laid, sprawled out in front of her.

“I broke up with her,” Caitlyn said, all of sudden.

Vi sat forward, shifting to look down at her. She tried to keep her expression under wraps, covering up with dramatically furrowing her brow. “With Dylan?” A nod. “You don’t sound very sad.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I broke up with her?”

Vi hesitated before she asked. “Why’d you break up with her?”

“She kissed me.”

“She kissed you?”

“She kissed me,” Caitlyn repeated, sounding breathless, letting out a breathy laugh. “And I kind of hated it?”

“So… she kissed you and you immediately broke up with her?”

“Yeah.”

“Like, right after?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn. Harsh.”

“I feel like I should feel bad but I… strangely don’t? I’m not sure.”

Caitlyn took her time with it and, with some weird ass metaphors that Vi didn’t really get, let on to the fact that the whole relationship kinda felt weird for the last month or so. Things felt forced and then when Dylan kissed her, it just felt like it was all wrong.

And, apparently, all she could think about after it happened was needing Vi. Not for advice, just for presence.

“You’re comforting,” she said out to the sky. “And I feel like I can tell you anything.”

“I’m glad I can be that person,” she supposed. It was nice to know that she was a comforting presence to someone, even if her only use elsewhere was to beat the shit out of people.

“Yeah.” Caitlyn’s eyes, endless blue, closed, as if she was trying to go to sleep. She looked peaceful in a way that only she could.

“You really broke up with her?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not upset?”

“Not particularly. I guess, it’s a shame I won’t have her company anymore but… I guess the red flag was when her hands were sweaty and I hated it. Like. When I held your hand and it was sweaty, I didn’t care. But with her, it felt weird.”

Vi cracked a smile. “That’s your grounds for breaking up with her? Hand sweat?”

Caitlyn gave a gesture, something like a shrug but a little more haphazard. “Something like that.”

“The Kiramman standard, everyone,” Vi announced, making a grand gesture, like she was a game show host asking to roll the tape.

A little while after Cait’s breakup, it’s like she went off of the rails for a bit.

Not in a bad way, not in the beginning anyway.

For a start, she got a dramatic haircut after having long hair for her entire life. It was cute, really cute, but it was definitely a surprise. Cait even let Vi run her hands through it. The ends were soft and the length of it was smooth and silky and her fingers fell through it as though it was water.

Then, she dyed it. It wasn’t that much of a change, because there’s not much that you can do to naturally black hair, but she tinted it blue. When it caught the light, it radiated a magnificent midnight colour. The colour of a clear night sky. Another welcomed change.

After that, she started wearing nice clothes. No more shitty graphic tees but clothes that fit and made her look like an adult. It was weird to see Caitlyn like that. Scrawny, pretty Caitlyn looking so old.

She was getting pretty damn tall.

And then, just when Vi thought she couldn’t do anything else, the shit hit the fan.

Caitlyn decided that she was going to run away from home.

In fact, she showed up at the spot with a suitcase and a sleeping bag slung over her shoulder in a neat pack.

“You can’t… Cait, no. What about your parents?”

The other, however, was mostly indifferent. “They won’t even notice that I’m gone.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to sleep up here.” Vi pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know we spend a lot of time here but, you know, it's not safe. And you could get ill. Like. Really ill.”

Apparently, that was just about all it took to convince Caitlyn out of it. Not to go home to her own house—she was a stubborn ass about that—but to come home with Vi instead.

It was the first time that Vi had ever brought a friend home. So she guessed that Vander wasn’t expecting to have another visitor for dinner. He made extra, thank fuck, so Vi didn’t have the embarrassment of halfing her meal with Caitlyn.

As soon as she even walked through the door, he just smiled and clapped her hard on the shoulder and said, “You must be the Caitlyn I keep hearin’ about from Vi.”

Her siblings, on the other hand, treated Caitlyn like she was some sort of fucking alien creature from a different galaxy who didn’t even know how to communicate. Mylo even prodded her with the end of one of the crutches they kept by the door, shocked when her leg was real, as if he expected it to faze right through her or something.

She filled Vander in on Cait’s plan and he shook his head, told her that it sounded so much like something Vi would do that she must be a bad influence. Vi just shrugged, didn’t really know what to say to that, but he said that Caitlyn could stay with them for now, on the condition that she goes and tells her parents where she is.

That much, she could probably get Cait to do.

It was the first and only night that they ever spent in the same bed. Curled up in Vi’s single, a little too close together. Talking into the night, whispering so as to not wake anyone else in the house.

Hours fell away from the clock and Vi had no idea what time it was when she finally dropped off to the sound of Caitlyn’s breath.

The one thing she did remember, though, was waking up to the feeling of what she assumed was Caitlyn cuddling into her back. Arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close – face pushed into her neck, breathing much too irregular to be asleep.

Vi placed her hand over Cait’s arm and she responded by huddling in closer. It was a cold morning.

“You alright?” Vi asked, voice husk with sleep.

“I miss home.”

“You wanna go home?”

A nod into her neck.

But when Vi tries to push herself up, Caitlyn tugs her back down.

“Not now. Just… a few more minutes. You’re really warm,” Caitlyn murmurs.

Vi laid out on her back with Caitlyn’s head on her chest, hoping she doesn’t stink of sweat or old laundry. Caitlyn continues to cuddle in, arms looping around her and coming in close, drifting back into sleep. Vi’s hand idled in the now short hair, trying to be as gentle as she can, before she moved an arm to her shoulder, rubbing in small circles.

The morning had to draw to a close eventually.

And Vi walked Caitlyn all the way home, right to the gates of the Kiramman residence. In fact, she even passed the threshold when Caitlyn insisted upon it. Even if it was only to hug her at the door and thank her for the place to stay.

“Anytime,” Vi said and finally pulled away from her. She swore she imagined Cait’s hands lingering around her.

“Maybe another time. On different circumstances?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. Sounds good.”

The door opened and Caitlyn disappeared inside. She didn’t linger on the doorstep too long, trying to escape back down the garden only to find that the gate automatically locked behind them.

Vi had no idea how to work it either. There was no latch or button or— when she looked back at the house, in through one of the front windows, hoping that maybe Caitlyn would see her struggle, she caught a glimpse of her best friend caught in the hug of an older woman. Her mom.

The woman that Caitlyn had said was cold and so work-oriented that she forgot about her own daughter.

She turned away. It wasn’t a moment for her to see. And, as quietly as she could, she hopped the gate and hoped that no one would notice she was even there to begin with.

The next time Vi heard from Caitlyn, she was telling her that she won’t be able to skip anymore.

“My parents are taking some time off of work because of the - uh - the incident,” she explained. “They want to spend some more time with me.”

“Huh. That’s good though, right? Get to spend more time with the ol’ ‘rents?”

“I suppose,” Caitlyn said, bringing her knees up to her chest.

“Yeah. It’s good, then. S’what you wanted.”

Caitlyn pursed her lips. “They saw you, you know?”

“They saw me? When?”

“Jumping over the gate.”

“Oh fuck.”

“We have security cameras,” Caitlyn reminded her. “...and I told them about you.”

Vi eyed her curiously. “Why’d you do that?”

“You told your dad about me, didn’t you?”

Vi doesn’t correct her. Vander isn’t really her dad. Well, kind of. It’s not really the same thing.

“I guess, but—”

“They want to meet you. If that’s alright. They invited you for dinner.”

And Vi swore, she’d never eaten a better meal in her entire life.

Also, the Kirammans, Mr and Mrs, respectfully, are warm and accommodating and absolutely nothing like what Vi was expecting. Whenever they catch her walking up the drive, Mr Kiramman will answer before she even gets the chance to ring the bell. And he pulls her into a hug and welcomes her back, ringing a bell off to the side, which apparently summoned Caitlyn because she was never far behind the sound of it.

Instead of going to the spot, sometimes they went back to Caitlyn’s house.

They messed around in her huge ass kitchen and cut up blocks of cheese just to sit and eat it in front of the TV. Sometimes, they went to Caitlyn’s room, with all of her trophies and her flowers and her framed pictures and paintings and talked for hours about school or homework or about that one boy in their class that neither of them liked.

Dylan came up, once, and Caitlyn spilled all the beans. Everything that Vi had missed, she filled her in on.

The whole thing is so normal that it just becomes another part of their routine.

At fifteen, Vi certainly couldn’t conquer the world, but it was becoming a familiar place, day by day. It was just a matter of learning how to navigate it and, with Caitlyn at her side, nothing was ever that hard, anyway.

16

At sixteen, the world Vi sought to conquer crumbled and fell between her fingers, blowing away like dust on the wind.

Vander's death came through the house like a typhoon, with its inexplicable winds destroying everything in sight, and the following storm surge that took out whatever the wind left behind.

Vi didn’t know what to do with herself. Her whole life revolved around home and the home that she’d come to have in Vander’s house. And she became a husk. Moving from place to place, class to class, assignment to assignment and there was nothing that felt like it was worth it anymore.

She didn’t skip anymore.

Because that was what did it, right? All the shit she did, he’d always joked that it was bad for his heart, that he didn’t know if he could take it. One too many skipped days of school, one too many nights missing dinner, one too many fights.

And she couldn’t even say she was sorry. It was a bit too late for that now.

When his funeral came around, she almost didn’t go. Couldn’t stand to see her whole family in tears, let alone the countless others that she knew would gather, just to see him off. She almost didn’t want to go because seeing him off meant actually saying goodbye, meant admitting that he was gone for good.

And when she decided that she needed to go, for Pow, because she wanted to go, she didn’t fight them when they made her wear a dress.

It was black and smooth against her skin and she didn’t ever remember having to wear tights before that day.

For the whole ceremony, she wore her head hung low. It was hard to cover the tears with nothing to hide her face, she found, and Powder’s hand was clung in hers the whole time.

Afterwards, Caitlyn found her at the spot, like she knew that she’d be there, somehow. It was a habit of hers: running away when it all got too much. And never once did it fail her.

She didn’t say anything, just silently sat down beside her, pulled her knees up to her chest.

“The ceremony was beautiful,” Caitlyn said.

For the first time, Vi registered that she was wearing black, too. She didn’t even know that she came.

And then, the tears come in like another flood.

Caitlyn’s been everything that she’d always been. Solid and there and… just there. That was all that mattered. The heat of her body against Vi’s was uncanny.

“It’s alright, darling,” Caitlyn said. With Vi pulled into her, she gently swayed their bodies from side to side. A soft, subtle swing. Rocking Vi back and forth, and back and forth.

The words, while acknowledged, felt empty. Meaningless. The kind of thing that anyone says to anyone that’d ever lost anyone.

“Grief demands to be felt,” she continued. “I can’t promise that it’s going to get easier, but I’ll always be here if you need me.”

At fourteen, Caitlyn had called Vi handsome.

At sixteen, Vi was curled up in a dress and crying herself hoarse and wondered if Caitlyn still thought the same thing.

Navigating through life without Vander was harder than she thought it was going to be. At first, Vi had thought that she was just about taking care of herself in the first place. And while she was, she wasn’t doing all of the other stuff. Like laundry, or the dishes, or the groceries.

And she knew it was only a matter of days, weeks at a push, before the remains of her hand-me-down family would be ripped away from her. Whatever remained of Vander would be gone too, all but a stupid fucking statue.

Everyone seemed so happy about it. The statue of him was put up instead of a grave, so that he could stand as a reminder for everything he did for the community. And they all smiled and clapped and looked up at it with such adoration. Like the statue of him did something great.

Vi wanted to tear it down. To take it apart piece by piece until nothing remained, not even a trace.

Everyone seemed so happy about it. A stupid fucking statue. Like a stupid fucking statue is going to make her a stupid dinner when she’s sad, or clean her stupid grazed knees or give her stupid rants and stupid lessons. A stupid fucking statue can’t give her a hug when she has stupid fights with stupid Caitlyn.

She cried at the feet of it, the metal cold under her hands. Vi wasn’t religious, but as she cried, she screamed out to the universe. If anything, anyone, was out there, they had to fix this.

It wasn’t fair that someone as good as Vander had to die when she had to go on without him.

Caitlyn helped, where she could. Invited her over for dinner and they watched movies and tried, as best as she knew how, to keep Vi’s mind occupied. It never really worked, but the effort was nice to see.

Sometimes, they talked about it. The elephant in the room. Or rather, the elephant missing from the room.

It was somewhat cathartic, getting to talk about all of the better moments. Never talked about the fights or the fact that, sometimes, he didn’t wash all of the cutlery properly. The time he gave Vi her own bedroom, helped her get the haircut she wanted. When she was still just a kid and wanted to make a cake for her little sister’s birthday, he helped her every step of the way, even though he was busy with work.

It came with time, but Vi slowly started to feel better. Started to go back to class and started smiling freely again. Because, even though it didn’t feel like it, living without Vander is still living. She told herself that he’d give her shit for being hung up on it so long, but she’s not sure.

She didn’t know how long is long enough to mourn.

She didn’t know how long Vander wanted to be mourned for.

She didn’t even know how to mourn.

But life went on, as it so tends to when we don’t want it to.

She spent more time than she ever had before with the Kirammans. Maybe Vi was dreaming it but she could swear that Mr K never hugged her for that long before. Even Mrs K gave her a squeeze on the shoulder, told her that she could stay with them if she ever needed a place to go, almost every time she left.

Sometimes, she took them up on the offer and she stayed the night up in Cait’s room.

At sixteen, when she’s still figuring out what it means to mourn, Vi kisses her best friend in her own bedroom.

Caitlyn looked shocked, eyes as wide as the white porcelain downstairs, one hand covering her lips.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I just thought-”

Caitlyn shook her head rapidly, hand over her mouth still. Then, slowly, she lowered it. And she shuffled closer.

“Is that what a kiss is meant to feel like?” she asked.

She didn’t know what it felt like for Cait, but to Vi, it was soft and warm and maybe a little too wet. A fluttering feeling in her stomach, something like a sweet sickness settling into her gut. Nervous, but grounded. Something she’d been waiting to do for a long time.

Vi had never kissed a girl before. Never kissed anyone before. She had no idea.

“I think so,” Vi said, muttered, rather. She’d just kissed Caitlyn. Caitlyn, her best friend. Caitlyn, whom she’d known forever. Caitlyn, who would never want to kiss her back.

And then, the unthinkable happened.

Caitlyn’s hands dropped from her mouth, and they were on the sides of Vi’s face, blue blaring into blue.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Uh - yeah?”

And she did. Once and then twice and then fell back on herself, giddy and giggling and pulling Vi down with her. Vi laid beside her best friend, staring at her as she rolled around on her bed, all excited and smiling and… that’s what Vi imagined Cait to look like when she was in love.

She was looking at her. At Vi. She was looking at Vi like she loved her.

Not a bad view, either. A great one.

Vi didn’t know how she'd end up sticking around there, but there’s nothing in this world that could ever take Cait away from her. She’d never let it.

Apparently, the Kirammans found trust in the Talis family, and that their son was willing to take responsibility for her and Pow. But whether or not that was going to pan out was still unclear.

“Oh my god, Vi,” Caitlyn said, suddenly. Laid out on her back, hair fanned out, looking over at her.

“What is it?”

“I… just kissed you.”

Vi sat up on the bed. “You did.”

“And I liked it.”

“You liked it?”

“I did just say that, didn’t I?” Caitlyn rolled her eyes and sat up to mirror her.

“You did.”

“I just— I finally kissed you.”

Vi’s jaw fell slack. Finally?

“I’ve had a fuck-off crush on you for - like - years,” Vi blurted.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

And Vi couldn’t believe her fucking luck.

It started with a kiss. Started with a kiss and finalised at their spot with a carved heart around their names.

At sixteen, Vi’s spirit was still a little too big for her bones, but she was just one growth spurt short and she’d put money on it. Her life changed hard and fast and in the most unpredictable of ways: some of them good, some of them clawing at her bones, pinning her down and begging her to question if it was worth venturing on.

But Vi was sixteen now.

Sixteen and gaining a year that December and soon enough, she’d have the world at her feet, begging for mercy. Even if she didn’t feel it now, it would fall to her will eventually.

And there was Caitlyn.

At sixteen, Caitlyn was young and beautiful and laughed like a fucking song. She had this way about her that made you just fall for her, no matter who you are, where you came from, anything.

At sixteen, they were still new to the world, but it was all starting to fall into place. Pushing and pulling, just to see what the universe will give before it takes.

Them, at sixteen.

Loving and laughing and finding a way. That was what mattered.