Work Text:
ONE WEEK AFTER CAMP
Ricky was in a weird state of limbo. He was now 18, a couple months away from starting his senior year, potentially a reality TV star, and madly in love with who he considered was his best friend. While each of those things were baffling, none of them ate away at him the way the latter did.
It’d been a week since camp, and he’d barely heard a word from Gina. If he was being honest, it was freaking him out. He kind of suspected that Gina knew he wasn’t being completely honest when he told her the fib about Carlos in Olaf’s costume, and he wasn’t exactly subtle when he was singing Kristoff Lullaby for the entire Disney+ Instagram community to see, but she also hadn’t said anything about either of those things, and he just needed to know if they were okay.
He'd been itching all week to reach for his phone and shoot her a text; just a hey, how’ve you been? or a meme or something, but he also didn’t want it to come across as if what happened between them at camp meant nothing. Did it even mean anything to Gina?
Ricky groaned and ran a hand down his face, mentally exhausted, not caring that the bystanders he was skating past gave him funny looks.
To deal with the stress of the situation, he was going to the one place in the world where everything was always okay all the time – the music store. He knew the guy who owned the place and was allowed in there whenever to mess around with the guitars as he pleased, which was ideal considering his own guitar had a snapped string that he couldn’t afford to replace at that time.
Eventually he made it there, kicking up his board and placing it behind the counter so it was out of the customers’ way, nodding to the familiar store clerk as he did so. He breathed in the scent of dusty second-hand vinyls and the musky wood of antique pianos, his favorite scent in the world bar Gina’s fragrance, and made a beeline for the strings section of the store.
Homing in on his dream guitar, the blackwood Cort with the forest detailing along the fretboard, he delicately plucked his fingers along the strings, not really playing anything, enjoying the resistance of the strings beneath his nails. He heard someone shift from behind him, and ignored them, assuming they were just another customer. Reaching to unlatch the guitar from its strung-up position, intending to give it a play, he heard a throat clear behind him, and then, “Hey.”
The guitar was lucky that it was attached to the wall, because at that moment his hands went slack, and he most definitely would’ve dropped it and broken the instrument for the whole store and God to see. He whipped around, almost snapping his neck at the speed he was going in, and he breathed out her name like a prayer when he locked eyes with her, “Gina.”
She looked stunning – as she usually did – but there was a different sort of charm about her that day. No makeup, natural hair spilling out from beneath her hoodie, which looked to be about two sizes too big for her. He felt like he was going to die at how adorable the sight before him was, and it was rare to ever see Gina look anything less than immaculately put together.
She must have remembered the state she was in because she flushed, her cheeks glowing a fresh pink, and she ducked her head. Wanting to save her from her embarrassment – although why she was embarrassed when she was literally the most breathtaking person he had ever laid eyes on, Ricky couldn’t tell you – he quickly broke the silence, “What are you doing here?”
“Oh,” Gina seemed to remember where she was, and looked around for a second as if gathering her bearings, “Well, I went for a walk and I just stumbled upon this store. Mom and I have just moved into our new place.”
“Gi, that’s so great,” Ricky smiled, genuinely happy for her, knowing she must be ecstatic.
Finally, she cracked her own smile, and Ricky felt a wave of relief come with it at the thought that yes, they were okay, they were still able to smile at each other, and that was the main thing. “Yeah, it really is. God, I just can’t believe that she’s here and I can stay here with you.”
Ricky’s heart stuttered at her comment, his mind turning to goo, before she quickly added, “and Carlos and Kourtney and Ashlyn and the rest. It honestly feels like a dream.”
Ricky had to take a moment to allow his brain to return to normal functioning capacity, before he said, “I’m so glad you’re staying. Senior year would suck without you.”
Smiling again, Gina took a step closer to Ricky, enough that he could now see the smattering of freckles along her nose and cheeks, intensified by the summer sun, and Ricky had the sudden urge to kiss them. He stuffed that urge as far down into the recesses of his mind that he could.
“So, what about you? What are you doing here?”
“I come here to clear my mind,” Ricky immediately responded, Gina like a siren to his thoughts, pulling out anything he was thinking without any hesitation.
A slight frown marred Gina’s features, and she asked, “Is everything ok?”
Ricky froze, very well realizing he couldn’t tell her he needed to clear his mind because he was practically throwing up over the fact that he thought she was ignoring him. He gathered his thoughts and responded in the most diplomatic way he could think, “Yeah, just a lot of big changes happening right now. I’m learning to just go with them. Turns out change is pretty great.”
“And all this from the boy who couldn’t stand to call his mom on Thanksgiving.”
“You remember that?” Ricky asked, kind of dumbfounded by the memory. The night Gina found out she was moving away. In retrospect, probably the worst night of Ricky’s life.
“Of course, I do,” Gina replied softly, “That was the first night I realized just how much we had in common.”
“Yeah, we do,” Ricky breathed out, the tension between them boiling away at his skin.
A few charged moments passed where neither of them said anything. Ricky wanted to ask her how she was feeling about the EJ situation, he needed to know when he could finally breach the subject of the fact that he confessed his feelings for her on what would soon be an internationally televised documentary. But he also didn’t want to ruin this first real moment between them since coat check at camp prom.
They still hadn’t even talked about camp prom.
Gina finally broke the silence, her musing tone soothing to his ears, “You know, I don’t know how to play an instrument still. Maybe now that I live so close to a music store, I should consider lessons.”
“Don’t waste your money,” Ricky blurted out, his brain frying at the image of Gina playing his guitar.
“What, you don’t think I can do it?”
“No, that’s not it,” Ricky furiously shook his head, “I can do it. I can teach you guitar for free. We can start right now.”
Gina laughed, her nose scrunching adorably, and Ricky awkwardly laughed along with her.
“Well, I mean, I can’t right now.”
“How about this weekend?”
“Oh, you’re actually serious about this?”
Gina’s eyes widened in contemplation, her head tilting adorably, and Ricky nodded his acknowledgement, desperate for any excuse to spend time with Gina again without making it weird.
“I’m dead serious. I’d be happy to teach you, Gi.”
Gina tugged on one of her hoodie strings, pulling the hood around her face tighter as a result, “I would really like to learn.”
“Then, let’s do it! What better time than the holidays? I literally have no plans ever,” Ricky joked, trying to hide how manically excited he was becoming at the prospect of teaching Gina how to play his truest passion.
“Okay,” Gina bobbed her head, her own excited grin slowly stretching out across her face, “We still have so much stuff to unpack, so I probably won’t be able to start until next week. But you can come to mine, and I’ll introduce you to mom and show you the place.”
“Cool, that sounds good,” Ricky nodded, trying to sound completely normal about this whole situation. He also tried his best not to give away the fact that him and Terri Porter had kind of already met – even if it was just over the phone - to organize Gina's Valentine's Day present.
He hoped Terri wouldn’t give him away.
“I’ll text you when I’m free,” Gina smiled.
She moved to walk away, then hesitated, as if forgetting something. She swiveled around and rapidly wrapped her arms around Ricky’s neck, pulling him in for a hug.
Intellectually, he knew this was a casual hug, a hug you gave a friend when you were saying goodbye, a greeting of sorts. But his mind blew it entirely out of proportion, his skin burning at every point of contact between them, his arms immediately wrapping around her back and hands pressing into her, pulling her closer, trying his hardest to be subtle about breathing in his favorite scent in the world while he was enveloped in it.
All too quickly, Gina pulled back, hands on his shoulders while his fidgeted at her waist. She smiled one more time, then pulled away just as quickly as she moved to hug him, scurrying off with a short, “Bye!” over her shoulder.
Ricky stood in absolute shock, his entire body fizzing from the experience, unsure if he had lost the ability to move or whether everything was just in slow motion. Eventually a ping on his phone brought him back to his senses, and he pulled it out, seeing a message from Gina.
She had sent him a meme, along with the text: saw this the other day and thought of you
Ricky slapped a hand to his mouth, trying his hardest not to squeal in a public place, because Gina thinking of him in her own time was something he never thought he needed to know. He desperately searched through Reddit to find a meme to send back.
*
TWO WEEKS AFTER CAMP
Ricky stood, palms sweating, with his guitar case gripped in one hand and his skateboard in the other, in front of Gina’s new place. His pockets felt particularly empty at this juncture in life, and he now owed Carlos a whopping $35.90 for his new guitar strings. He didn’t tell Carlos why he needed the strings so desperately, but Ricky knew the guy could probably tell.
Anything Ricky was this desperate about was usually related to Gina.
Taking a few deep breaths to settle his rapid-fire nerves, Ricky shifted his board under his arm to knock. Only a few seconds passed before the door was wrenched open, startling him, and almost making him drop his freshly restrung guitar.
“Ricky!” Gina exclaimed, beaming at him.
She reached for his hand with both of hers and pulled him inside, and Ricky wasn’t complaining at all, but he was surprised by the action.
“Welcome to my new home!” Gina chattered excitedly, taking his board and guitar from him, and placing them beside a table in the foyer, “Mom’s not home today unfortunately, but you can still see the house. I already bought some house plants for the living room because I watched a video on YouTube that said plants make a house look like a home. What do you think?”
Ricky was honestly only thinking about how cute Gina looked bounding about the house and babbling excitedly about it, so he cleared his throat and quickly came up with something suitable, “It gives the room warmth.”
“Right?” Gina grinned, bouncing on her feet, “I thought so too. It’s so nice to be able to have our own place to decorate.”
“Speaking of,” Ricky reached into his backpack slung over his shoulder to pull out his housewarming gift, “For you.”
“What is this?”
“It’s not much,” Ricky prefaced, handing over his gift to her, “My mom had these snowflake fairy lights tucked away. We used to put them up at Christmas, but I thought you could have them for your room or something, Anna.”
Gina pressed the lights to her chest, her eyes crinkling as she smiled up at him, “I love them. Thank you.”
Ricky felt his heart double in size at the comment, and he quickly moved to grab his guitar from its case before he did something stupid like blurt out that he loved her. “So, was there anything specific you wanted to learn? I can teach you the basics today, and then we can start to learn an actual song.”
“Actually, there is something I’ve been thinking.”
“Shoot,” Ricky absentmindedly tuned the guitar while he waited for her to speak, finding the living room couch to plonk himself on as he did it.
She lingered in the doorway to the room, before she took a step in, finally saying, “I want to learn Kristoff Lullaby.”
A string twanged loudly as his finger slipped over it, not sure what this meant, but knowing it was making his heart do funny things. He gulped loudly, feeling his heart climbing his throat, and he tried to speak as calmly as possible, “Uh, that’s a difficult one. It might take a while to learn.”
“We have time,” Gina said simply, finally plonking herself next to him and catching his line of sight. The sentence felt loaded, but neither Ricky nor Gina said anything to clarify it.
So, Ricky simply nodded, and passed his guitar over to Gina, feeling their hands prickle with electricity at the brief point of contact they shared.
*
THREE WEEKS AFTER CAMP
Ricky was watching Gina’s face rather than her hands as she awkwardly plucked away at the strings of his guitar, noting that he’d never seen her look more beautiful than she did with that crease between her brows, and her tongue poking out in concentration. He should’ve been concentrating on her hands because she was showing him what she had practiced that week, and he knew she was proud of her progress, but she captivated him too much for him to be able to focus.
Eventually, she tutted out a noise of annoyance, her slow and uneven playing coming to a halt.
“I can never do this part,” she muttered, trying again, and faltering once more.
Ricky snapped back to attention, trying to remember he was there to help her with her playing, and he said, “Uh, it would be easier for you to reach the fret if your wrist were a little looser, and if you used the tips of your fingers instead of the flats of them.”
“Like this?” Gina tried to awkwardly follow his instructions, but her movements still came across strained.
“No, more like this,” Ricky shifted toward her, and before he could even fully register what he was doing, he had sat himself slightly behind her, reaching his arms around her so he could position her hands correctly.
He hadn’t even thought about what he was doing at first, focusing on fixing her hand position, and ensuring her posture allowed her to lose some of the tension in her wrists, but once he was finished, he registered just how close he had become to Gina. His breath escaped his lips in a rush of air when he realized, arms engulfing her from behind, and his chest lightly pressed up to her back. He realized then, as well, that Gina hadn’t moved or said anything. She simply let him correct her position in silence.
Her breath sounded shallow so close to his ear, and Ricky’s brain supplied him with the unhelpful thought that if he shifted his head a little, he’d be able to kiss her jaw. Instead, he whispered, “Does that feel more comfortable?”
Gina nodded, her hair tickling the side of his face, before she said, “Can you show me how to reach this next note, too?”
She sounded so nervous, and dare Ricky think she sounded just as breathless as him, his heart thrilling at her suggestion to help her when he thought she’d ask him to move away. So, Ricky gently took her hand in his again, and positioned it so she could better reach the next note, resting his chin slightly on her shoulder so he could see the guitar better.
“Okay, now try playing again,” Ricky said, and feeling emboldened, he properly leaned his chin onto her shoulder, waiting for her to begin.
He felt her shift beneath his arms, and he thought his executive brain functions were about to fizzle and die when he felt her lean back into him, growing comfortable in their shared space. He used to dream of doing things like this, and here he was with Gina Porter in his arms, while she played his guitar.
Was he dead? Was this heaven?
She tried the passage again, still slow, but much more fluently, now having the proper technique to be able to reach the notes with ease. She laughed in delight when she played through without mistakes, “I did it!”
“You sounded great,” Ricky said softly, shifting his head so he could smile up at her, his arms moving to squeeze around her waist in a reassuring hug.
Gina also shifted her head to look at him, and with their proximity, her nose bumped into his. Her lips parted slightly at their closeness, and Ricky couldn’t help dropping his gaze down to watch them, noting how full and soft and glossy they looked, wondering how they would feel pressed against his own.
He quickly snapped his gaze back up to her eyes, and he noticed Gina watching him with a deep blush coloring her cheeks. He cleared his throat to say something, when he heard a voice from the door of the living room, “Am I interrupting something?”
Of all the people Ricky expected to walk into the room at that moment, Terri Porter should’ve been his first guess, considering it was 6:00PM on a weekday and this was her house. It didn’t stop him from yelping in surprise and springing away from Gina like she was a hot stove he had stupidly decided to put his hand on.
“Mom!” Gina exclaimed, a wavering quality to her tone, her breathing slightly out of whack, “You’re home! Um, I told you Ricky was coming over, right?”
“Yes, you did mention it,” Terri replied, narrowed eyes shifting between her daughter and himself, and Ricky wished the ground would swallow him up. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“You too, Ms. Porter,” Ricky squeaked, hoping he didn’t sound too nervous.
“Well, I didn’t feel like cooking tonight, so I just bought some Indian takeout. I hope that’s okay with everyone.”
“Sounds great, mom,” Gina nodded, placing Ricky’s guitar into its case, and standing up, “We’ll be right there.”
Terri hesitated at the doorway, looking between the two once more, before nodding and walking off in the direction of the kitchen. Gina turned to Ricky, wiping her palms against her skirt, and nervously chuckling.
“Sorry if she’s a bit weird tonight. Mom’s been kind of protective lately since everything that went down with EJ. Don’t read too much into it.”
Ricky’s mind came to a screeching halt at the reminder of EJ, remembering that it had only been three weeks since him and Gina had broken up. What was he doing, getting close to her like this? She’d barely had time to recover from her last relationship, and he was thinking of kissing her like that meant nothing to her.
Suddenly growing frustrated with his emotions, Ricky determined to control himself around Gina. He was desperate to be close with her as if she was the air he breathed to live, and for him that had to mean being her friend, and her friend only. She didn’t like him the way he liked her.
Not anymore, anyway, his brain supplied – an awful thought he couldn’t suppress ever since camp Color War.
Finally, he replied, “Yeah, that makes total sense. Sorry for making it weird just now. I should’ve asked if I could show you first.”
Gina’s smile dropped, her expression replaced with one of confusion, and she said, “You didn’t make it weird, I–”
“Let’s eat,” Ricky quickly supplied, smiling tightly, and booking it for the kitchen.
He missed her finish the rest of her sentence, muttered beneath her breath, “I like being close to you.”
*
FOUR WEEKS AFTER CAMP
Ricky was wallowing in bed, wearing the same sweater he had been wearing for the past three days despite it being sticky with heat outside. He didn’t want to do anything but sleep and play sad songs – and he couldn’t even do the latter because Gina had his guitar.
Which brought him to the source of his sadness – he had been ignoring Gina. It was the only way he knew how to bottle up his feelings for her. He promised himself he could start hanging out with her again when they were in a group at school. He just knew he couldn’t handle being alone with her and watching her pull her little excited expressions, and play his guitar, and sing the song he had performed during Frozen when he practically confessed his love to her (albeit disguised as his character).
So, when Gina had texted him that afternoon asking when he was coming over for her lesson, he had lied and said he wasn’t feeling well. It made him feel like the worst person in the world, because he was already only sparingly replying to her texts, and he could tell she was getting confused when she called him the other day and asked if he was okay. He’d told her he was fine while holding back tears. He wanted to tell her the truth so badly, and he knew he needed to with the documentary premiere literally days away, but he was just so scared to ruin things between them again. He couldn’t survive the distance they had during Beauty and the Beast again.
But the thought of the premiere reminded him that he would have to tell her eventually. She was going to find out anyway, and he knew it should come directly from him, and not from some shaky footage behind a bush where he was lamenting his fate to Carlos. Ricky groaned into his pillow, sure that Gina would be the death of him, while also being the only thing bringing him life.
“Ricky, someone’s here for you!” he heard his dad yell from outside his room.
“Tell them to go away!” Ricky yelled back; voice muffled by his pillow.
He heard his door click open, and he was about to throw a pillow at his persistent father when he heard the voice he’d been wanting to hear all day, “Too late?”
Ricky shot up in his bed, spinning himself around to see Gina – perfect Gina. She stood at the foot of his bed, hesitant to come any closer, maybe because she wasn’t sure what kind of sick he was and the premiere was that weekend, or maybe because she wasn’t sure where she stood with him on account of the whole him avoiding her thing. Either way, Ricky couldn’t help the immense feeling of relief he felt at having her so close after so long (a whole week was a long time for him), his fingers twitching beneath his blankets, itching to reach out to her.
He stared slack jawed at her, his mind faintly registering that the sweater she was wearing looked familiar when it clicked – it was the one he had left at hers by accident last week. Light blue and patched at the elbow – its defining quality. Ricky could barely breathe at the sight. It was so domestic of her to do, and Ricky couldn’t help but think that if she was his girlfriend, he’d give her any sweater she asked for, because to hell to anyone who didn’t think they looked infinitely better on her than they did on him.
Gina must’ve noticed him staring, because she glanced down at the sweater herself, and she startled as if she had forgotten she was wearing it. Stuttering slightly, she spoke again, “Oh, this is yours, huh? I meant to bring it when I came, but then I was cold, so I put it on, and then I kept it on, and yeah, well, I guess I should give it back now…”
Ricky refrained against commenting that they were in the middle of a heat wave, and there was no way she was feeling cold, because he honestly didn’t want to see her take it off. Instead, he said, “You can keep it.”
Gina smiled shyly, and her cheeks were slightly flushed again, although Ricky didn’t know whether to blame that on the heat or her embarrassment. Then, she thrust a container she was holding into Ricky’s lap.
“I made you chicken soup,” Gina said, “I didn’t know what kind of sick you were feeling, but this is my grandma’s recipe, and it helps you recover from anything. She calls it miracle soup.”
Ricky doubted miracle soup would cure his heartache, but he smiled warmly at her anyway, grateful she cared enough to put in the effort.
This was why he wanted to avoid her – she was just too loveable not to make himself a complete fool over her. He gripped the container with both of his hands, struggling to find what to say, hoping she couldn’t tell that he was faking being sick. Or maybe he wasn’t. Avoiding Gina felt like the kind of chronic pain that never dulled.
“Thanks,” he simply muttered, dropping his gaze.
Then, a cold hand against his forehead, brushing his curls back to press onto his flushed hairline. Ricky almost jumped out of his skin from her touch, but then immediately after he melted into it, like it was his drug.
He was so pathetic.
She hummed to herself as she brushed her hand from his forehead to his cheek, her brow slightly furrowed, and Ricky couldn’t help his thoughts from jumping to the fact that he wanted to kiss her palm, or her wrist, or just her. He wanted to kiss her.
“You do feel warm,” she commented, and she swiped her thumb along the top of his cheekbone as she said it. He was sure it was meant to be a comforting notion, but it only set his heart into a somersault spree. “Let me see if I can get you more blankets, you might need to break a fever.”
As she pulled away from him, Ricky subconsciously shot his hand out to grab her wrist, unsure why exactly he did it. Gina halted in her tracks, turning around with a curious look on her face, and Ricky’s mouth went dry.
He wanted to say so much to her. He wanted to tell her about his confession to Carlos. He wanted to tell her she was driving him insane. He wanted to tell her to stay.
Instead, he said, “Gina, thank you for the soup. But you should go. You don’t want to catch anything before the premiere.”
Ricky’s heart bled when he watched her warm expression drop in disappointment. He knew she just wanted to take care of him. But, for the sake of his heart, he couldn’t be around her right now. He would have to wait until the premiere, when he could be in a group, and he wasn’t tempted to do anything crazy like pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless.
“Right,” Gina nodded, clearing her throat, “You’re right. I’ll go.”
Ricky dropped his hand from her wrist and watched as she fiddled with the cuffs of his sweater she was wearing. She looked like she wanted to say something further, her lips slightly parted. After a moment, she simply said, “You should eat sooner than later. The soup tastes better warm.”
She turned to the door, and without looking back, she left.
Ricky caught a waft of her perfume as she did, sinking back into his sheets, feeling tears prick at the back of his eyes.