Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They were losing.

They were fucking losing.

And Natalie shouldn't have cared, because they technically couldn't lose against their own team, and it was just another srimmage on a sunny September afternoon, and the girls were so worn out no one even cared who won anymore.

But Lottie Matthews kept wiggling her eyebrows at her every time they got a point —Lottie never scored herself, but she always managed to run across midfield and kick the ball over to whoever scored— and it was driving Nat insane.

She was trying as hard as she was willing to try at anything. Nat liked soccer, sweating and heaving until her lungs were close to bursting. Her mom, her dad, school; everything went away for as long as practice lasted.

What she didn't like were the seniors.

The girl's soccer team had more freshmen than necessary, so they had a separate practice. They would get split in half for friendly matches, eleven on each side, and that would still leave out around five girls. Seven, if the queen bees of the swarm decided to show up. Girls who were there so the soccer boys would think they were "cool" and "different". 

Jackie wasn't like that, though. She was the only one from that bunch who seemed to care about the game. On their first practice, she would run across the field to pick up whoever got knocked to the ground —which happened every three minutes. Nat thought that was nice in a very idiotic but charming way. 

Even though their training was done for the day, the seniors would sit on the bleachers and watch. If they messed up, they'd cackle and shout stuff like, "Come on, six, pick up the pace!", "Fuck's sake, get up, get up!", "Too slow!", "Sloppy!", "Swear, it's like watching babies tryna walk!", "Oh my god, was that even aimed at the box?!"

So, losing? Yeah, it sucked.

They booed them all the way into the locker rooms. Nat tried to hold in her anger. It made her jaw quiver, and she didn't want to look like she was about to cry, so she dug her nails into her palms and walked faster.

If she kept playing for the losing half, varsity would spot her, and then it was really over. During the first few practices, there was this girl, Claire, who was sweet but had horrible foot coordination, and the seniors clocked her fast. Long story short, Claire was gone by the second week and most girls were saying the seniors had run her over with a car. 

She was shoving her cleats into her locker when Lottie — fucking— Matthews rolled up with a paper flower in hand.

"Hey." Lottie smiled like she wanted to, but also like she was holding back because of the bloodthirsty staredown Nat had just given her. "Sorry they're being assholes. You were great today."

Then she handed her the flower and left. It had French words scribbled across one side and pink highlighter on the other, and the tip was ripped like the girl had just torn her class notes in half to make the stupid thing.

She smiled to herself. Lottie fucking Matthews.

***

"Okay, uhm, if you could only listen to music from a different decade for the rest of your life, which one would you choose?"

"Seventies, obviously."

"What?!"

"I like it!"

"Such a fucking hippie."

"Which would you choose, then?"

"Eighties."

"Oh, so like, five years ago? That's as far as your range goes?"

"Not my fault everything else sucked."

"Sure," Lottie giggled. Her laugh sounded different when she was laying down, legs up against the wall.

Training was long over, but they were both still in their boots and jerseys, sprawled on the locker room floor.

Four months into their freshman year, you could say they were friends. Lottie and Nat were an odd pair but a sturdy one, though they shared an unspoken rule that their bond was a secret. They had the habit of staying hours after all their teammates left the changing rooms to talk about anything and everything.

Well, almost everything, because neither of them mentioned why they were so willing to delay the return to their homes.

"Your turn."

"If you…could be any famous musician, which—"

"D'arcy Wretzky."

Lottie rolled her eyes. "You didn't even let me finish the question." 

"Whatever. I knew the answer." Resting on the girl's stomach, Nat's head sunk to Lottie's sigh. "You?"

"Don't know. Maybe Tori Amos."

"Who the fuck is that?"

Lottie sat up so abruptly that Nat's head bounced on the floor.

"Be serious."

"I am," Nat groaned, rubbing her scalp.

"You actually don't know who Tori Amos is?"

She shrugged. Lottie's eyes kept getting impossibly wider, Nat feared they might pop out. Without another word, she rushed and dug through her backpack. It was exactly how Nat imagined being possessed would look.

As she managed to sit properly, Lottie knelt in front of her. Piano keys rang through her ears before she noticed the headphones on her head. Lottie's hands held them into place. She wanted the sound to seep into Nat's brain.

Melodic shit wasn't her style, but she put up with five whole minutes of it because Lottie was looking at her with such intensity. It was sweet, and it also freaked Nat the fuck out.

Lottie didn't put her hands down until the song was over. 

"Wow, that…sucked more than I thought it would."

"Oh, fuck you." Nat laughed as Lottie ripped the headphones off her ears and pushed her Discman away. "She's better than all your emo shit."

"Dream on."

Lottie smiled and kicked her shoes, so Nat did it back.

"Shit, what time is it?"

Nat checked the clock behind her. "Six. Why?"

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit." Lottie's face had turned crazy once more. She grabbed her things quickly and threw them inside her backpack. "I have a doctor's appointment."

"Oh. What for?"

Lottie paused her frantic gathering to answer, "My…skin," then shot to her feet.

That was another thing they didn't talk about: Lottie's suspiciously frequent visits to the doctor.

"Come on!" She pulled Nat off the floor. "Race you to the parking lot!"

***

Another couple of months had gone by when her dad’s accident happened, and Nat became a mix of guilt, hate, and black hair dye. Occasionally black eyeliner as well.

"You know, you're not supposed to use that much." Jackie had that smile on, the one she always wore before she said, "Here. I can fix it for you."

She meant well, Nat knew, but there was this bitterness inside her. Like a dark grime that ate away at her. It made the skin under her eyes purple and her bones feel heavy and rotten.

Nat slapped the eyeliner off Jackie's hands. "Bite me."

On Thursday, Lottie slipped behind her in line during drills. "I like it," she told her over her shoulder. "All the black. It looks good with your eyes."

Nat didn't thank her, didn't even turn around. She hadn't talked to Lottie since it happened, two weeks prior. But she still smiles when she thinks about what she said.

They were reaching summer break, putting up with the last of the seniors' bullshit, clawing at the sweetness of sophomore life.

Coach Bill wasn't allowed to cut girls off the team, so, starting sophomore year, training got divided into two groups: varsity and the benched.

Most of the varsity players were seniors, for obvious reasons, and most of the benched were sophomores and some juniors. For obvious reasons.

But if a freshman were good enough, they'd get assigned to the main group and learn to work with the seniors the following year. That girl would still get benched, but she was the first to get picked as a replacement at the big games if anything happened to someone on the team.

Every freshman wanted to be that girl.

And Lottie got it.

Nat didn't hug or congratulate her as the rest of the team did. She stood still, trying not to look too disappointed or think too hard about it.

It was fine. She just wasn't any good at the one thing she enjoyed about being alive. Great. Fucking awesome. Everything sucked. But it was fine. 

What was she gonna do? Kill herself? That was lame, and it would've proved her dad's point about her. Fuck him. Fuck soccer.

She barely noticed the box inside her locker or the note stuck to it in the midst of her internal storm.

Mom was gonna bleach her hair but she changed her mind. Thought blonde would look good on you.

Lottie <3

Nat shoved the box aside. Fuck Lottie Matthews.

Chapter Text

The day was hot and her hair was a sickly green —which wasn't exactly intentional. 

Bored of the black, she had tried to lift the color during the summer, but no matter how much cheap bleach she sludged on or how long she left it on, the black wouldn't leave her. That gunk in her chest had spread to her head and there was nothing she could do about it. So she decided to own it.

"Jesus, what happened to you?" Kevyn asked when he saw her at school. 

"Joined a witch coven, asshole."

And that was a sentence she would use plenty more times during her first day back.

Sophomore soccer training began two weeks in. Nat stood at the locker room doorway with her gear bag and heard them. Laura Lee was telling Mari about Christian summer camp, Taissa and Van were debating whether the new varsity girls would make it to nationals, Jackie and Shauna fixed their hair and talked about Jeff, Jackie’s boyfriend.

Nat willed her legs to move, but the damn gunk glued her boots to the floor, and Kevyn had invited her to hang at the junkyard with some guys she didn't know. So when her legs did move, it was away from the noise of that room.

Try, fail, go smash shit with Kevyn. That was the schedule for the two weeks Nat was set on quitting soccer. She never officially quit, but she also wasn't attending practice, so it was only a matter of time before Coach kicked her out.

No one would even notice. Nat was shit anyway, so the team wouldn't miss her.

"Where are you going?"

Slowly, Nat turned around. Taissa was standing down the empty hallway, cross-armed in her Yellowjackets hoodie and shorts.

"Drama club meeting."

"Very funny. Get in here." She beckoned her into the locker room.

Nat didn't move. She hadn't been there for six whole practices. Shouldn't Taissa have figured it out by then?

"I quit," Nat said, expecting Taissa to let her arms down, pretend to be sad and say they'd miss her, then move on.

Taissa didn't, of course. She scoffed and stomped over to her. "Do I look like I fucking care?" Her hand gripped Nat's arm and dragged her across the hallway. "We're gonna be junior varsity next year, and I'm not letting Coach shove some mediocre freshman into our team just because we don't have enough juniors because you quit the team to go…wherever!"

Nat yanked and pulled but Taissa was taller and handled her with ease. She got shoved into the changing room as soon as Tai's speech was done.

She turned around in hopes of cussing her out, but instead got her hair ruffled by Van. "Finally, dude. Hey, everyone! Nat's here!"

That cheer got the rest of the girl's attention, and suddenly they were flocking to her position. Laura Lee hugged her with those bony arms that did more harm than good; Shauna grabbed her shoulders as Jackie kissed her on the cheek. The rest of the girls waved hello with smiles, asking questions and trying to fill her in on the team news.

They were all talking over each other, loud and excited. Nat didn’t want to drag out disappointing them one last time. She had a junkyard to get to.

"Wait!"

The girls went silent. Nat meant to tell them she wasn't staying, that she was only there for quick goodbyes. 

"I don't have my uniform," was what she mustered.

"Oh, that's okay! We got new ones!" Mari showed hers off. 

It looked so much better. They had switched the shirt and number colors around, so it was less yellow and more blue; the shorts were longer and the socks shorter. 

"We put yours in your locker."

And just like that, Nat was back on the team.

She was tying her shoes —those boots she’d had since middle school weren't going to survive much longer, she'd have to buy new ones— when Lottie ran into the locker room.

The girl had sweat and mud all over her, and she sounded like she smoked a pack a day. Also, her hair was down to her hips, and she had these shy, almost see-through bangs that Nat thought really suited her.

She stopped when she saw Nat sitting there, letting out as big a smile as her reddened cheeks could. "Knew you'd come back," she gasped.

Then she chugged a whole bottle of water.

"She looks like shit," Nat told Van.

"Yeah, probably feels like it too. Varsity training starts an hour early and the new girls are…"

"Monsters," Mari finished for her.

"Pretty much, yeah."

"The last ones were too," Nat said.

Van clicked her tongue. "But they were verbal monsters. These ones act like the objective of soccer is to bust each other's kneecaps."

Jackie walked up to Lottie with some gauze and tape and pointed to her right elbow, which was gushing red.

Taissa saw them as well. "Honestly, I was a little jealous of her last year—"

"A little?" Van mocked.

"—but I would hate to be her now."

Nat watched Jackie patch Lottie up with a sense of shame. She had almost quit soccer over that shit. She was so stupid.

A girl with puffy curls and big glasses popped her head into the locker room, shouting, "Coach says out in five!"

Practice was alright. She was a bit out of shape for pushups and laps, but she scored almost every ball she went for. Coach Ben said he was happy she decided to come back, which made her smile. And she had, like, actual fun doing something that didn’t involve alcohol or broken glass for the first time in months.

The next day, Nat found Lottie at the school library, headphones on and three Biology textbooks spilled on her table.

She sat across from her and dropped her leather jacket on the floor. "Hey," she whispered, but Lottie kept mouthing lyrics and jotting down words Nat couldn't read. "Hey," she said again, louder that time. But nothing.

So Nat shut all her books. Patience didn't run in her family.

Lottie looked up with a grimace that stretched into surprise. "Oh. Hi?" She pulled her headphones around her neck hesitantly.

Nat thought she didn't look very happy to see her. "If you don't wanna talk to me, I can leave."

"What?"

She reached for her jacket. "No, it's fine. I won't bother you."

"You're not bothering me."

"Well, you should tell that to your face."

"My face?"

Lottie's frown grew as Nat stood up to leave. "Yeah, your face."

"What's wrong with my face?"

"You would know."

"I'm…confused."

"You're confused? I'm fucking confused!"

"I didn't even do anything and you're hissing at me!" Lottie hissed back.

They didn't realize the volume their voices had reached until three different tables shushed them aggressively.

"Sit down," Lottie mouthed.

And Nat did, muttering, "I'll sit down 'cause I wanna sit down."

Calmly, Lottie piled the books aside. She closed her notebook, put away her Discman, and bent over the table. Nat leaned closer as well.

"I was just surprised, alright?" Lottie whispered. "You don't really talk to me anymore, and you never once called me back over the summer."

Nat lowered her eyes to the desk. She had forgotten about that. "Shit. Sorry."

"It's fine. I mean, did I do something? Like, are you mad at me?"

Explaining she froze her out over a hellish position on the varsity team felt especially stupid then, so Nat just shook her head.

"I'm not."

Lottie bobbed hers, unconvinced. "Okay."

"Anyway, just wanted to say sorry for…all that."

"You're good," Lottie smiled. "You know, you'd be even better if you explained mitosis and meiosis to me."

"Sorry, I'm in dummy biology. I don't even know what that means."

They laughed, and Lottie asked Nat to stay with her until the next bell. Nat took out her Math textbook and did some homework for the first time since school began.

Boring shit was a little bit more fun with Lottie. Nat liked how she knew when she was watching her; she would smile or stick her tongue out. They'd chuckle and go back to the wordy paragraphs and long equations, and they would feel easier.

***

Winter neared and the varsity team wasn't doing too well —they weren’t bad, but they got so many fouls per game that they struggled not to get disqualified.

Silver lining was that Lottie played at almost every varsity game, so the team could make up funny chants to cheer her on.

It was so cold Nat had to put on two hoodies so she wouldn't freeze on the field. She had come in early so she could catch the first half of Lottie's training and check out the bloodshed.

The bench was close to frozen but it beat standing up for twenty minutes. Lottie had two long sleeves under her jersey, and the hairband that she used to pull back her bangs was also working as an ear warmer.

Lottie waved when she saw her, and Nat held up a 'rock on' hand sign. She thought thumbs up were dumb —except when Lottie did it. 

Things between them were alright. They didn't spend a lot of time together outside of practice; their friend groups weren't the kind that mixed well at a party. But they were friendly.

Shout, whistle, and Lottie moved side to side, keeping her tag busy.

It wasn't long before someone kicked the ball over to her. Those seniors were beasts, but at least they didn't exclude the newer players.

Lottie was making her way across midfield when her tag caught up to her, skidding on the grass and locking her foot with the back of her knee. Lottie fell face-first to the ground.

Shout. Whistle.

Nat jumped off the bench. "What the fuck?!"

She ran to pick Lottie up, but instead ended up shoving the redhead who had taken her down. "The hell was that?!"

"Natalie, out," Coach barked.

"Are you kidding me?! She locked her fucking foot!"

" Out. "

Lottie groaned, failing to push herself up. None of the other girls were helping her, too busy gasping and whispering, so Nat knelt on the grass and got her to stand. She had a cut on her chin and blood running down her nose.

"You should tell her to get the fuck out!" Nat insisted, a finger toward the redhead and flaming eyes on Coach Martinez.

Lottie had her hands on her knees, spitting blood out. "Nat. Go," she groaned.

"You're taking her to the infirmary," Coach ordered Nat, "and then you're coming back here so we can talk about that mouth of yours. Go."

Nat sat cross-armed, shoes tapping on the floor outside of the nurse's office. Lottie walked out with a cotton ball in each nostril and a band-aid on her chin, and Nat could tell she was mad.

"You okay?" she asked her.

"Yeah. Fine." She took the cotton out of her nose and threw it in the trash. "You should go back, practice starts soon."

"Are you going home?"

"Actually, no, I have to get X-rays."

A beat.

"She broke your fucking nose?!"

"Nat—"

"I'm gonna kill her."

"No, you won't!" Lottie jerked her ponytail to make her stop walking. "You're not gonna do anything! At all!"

Nat was too riled up to even think about the hair pulling. "She broke your nose, Lottie!"

"I know that."

"I get you're nice, but she's a bitch, and I don't have to be nice."

Nat turned around once again, planning to stomp angrily back outside and kick that girl's skull in, but Lottie ran up and planted herself in front of her, shaking her by the shoulders.

"No, but you're short and small and if you go out there, she's gonna break your fucking nose too."

It was hard to argue with Lottie towering over her. She had grown at least a head taller over break.

"Besides, I have to play with those girls, remember?" Lottie's voice got softer. "Do you think they'll beat me up any less if you go confront them?"

"Then quit the varsity team," Nat begged her. It was so stupid. They'd be seniors eventually, Lottie didn't have to stay in that spot if all she got were bruises.

"I can't. If I quit, then one of you will have to fill in."

"I'd do it."

Lottie rolled her eyes. "Exactly."

Kind gaze set on Nat's, she ran out of arguments. Her teeth nipped at the inside of her cheek. Lottie let go of her shoulders with a sigh.

"So. Saturday. Wanna come over to my house?"

Nat's whole face twisted with confusion. "What?"

***

As it turned out, Lottie was rich. Like, filthy rich. The kind of rich Nat often said should be illegal. And rich people have rich daughters who they leave alone in their big-rich-people houses for entire weekends.

Saturday, she got there early, around ten in the morning —Lottie had said she would be by herself from Friday to Sunday, and the thought of that made Nat sad.

Lottie, all alone in that big house. Nat spent a lot of time alone, but at least she didn't have much space to really feel her aloneness. Lottie did. Nat couldn't figure out how she hadn't lost her mind yet.

At least two hours were spent on a lengthy tour of the place. Nat kept pausing to be amazed at all the cool shit Lottie had. The pool was definitely one of the best. It was on a balcony that had a great view of the woods, and all the walls were clear so you could see the trees through them. If it hadn't been freezing outside, they would've spent another two hours there.

The main attraction was Lottie's room. It didn't have any glass walls, but Nat liked to hold up things and hear Lottie's stories about them. Her mother's old music box, the drawing a little boy gave her at a park once, every soccer medal, hockey trophy, and broken tennis racket. That room had a beating heart of its own.

But Lottie put an Elton John CD on, so Nat was forced to resume her snooping.

"No. Uh-uh. Turn that shit off."

"C'mon, this one's a fun one!"

The song was literally called "I think I'm going to kill myself".

"I mean, I think it's funny."

Nat just stared at her. Then she switched the CD for an Oasis one. She could put up with Definitely Maybe.

When she turned back around, Lottie was gone. She found her downstairs, in the kitchen. Her checkered dress was dirty with pancake mix.

"Hungry?" 

They ate watching Law and Order, played board games —ironically, Nat kicked her ass in Monopoly— and Street Fighter on an arcade machine they found in the basement, painted their nails, and did improvised karaoke with whatever was on the radio.

For dinner, Lottie forced Nat to try leftover sushi. She hated it, so they made Mac and Cheese. Then Lottie tried to force Nat to watch Little Women. She hated it, so Nat put on a horror movie. Lottie didn't like horror movies, but as she was zapping through other channels she noticed Nat had run off to the kitchen. So no movie at all.

"Dude!" Nat cheered, holding up a Smirnoff bottle. "You have a whole store in here!"

"My parents do."

Nat left it on the counter and closed the liquor cabinet. "Shouldn't all this be locked away somewhere?"

"I don't really drink, so…"

"Your parents just trust you like that?"

Lottie shrugged. "Sure."

She sat on the bar stool by the kitchen island as Nat grabbed whiskey glasses.

"Have you ever done shots before?" Nat asked, sitting on the stool next to Lottie's and pouring the vodka. Lottie shook her head. "Well, do you want to?"

A crooked smile stretched Lottie's lips. She picked up the shot.

"You have to do it fast, alright?"

"Alright."

They clinked glasses and counted to three. Lottie pressed her eyes shut and coughed so hard that Nat thought she'd throw up, so she was laugh-coughing.

"Gross! Why would you drink that?!"

Nat patted her back. "Trust me, after the fifth one, you'll know."

Despite a few complaints, Lottie downed another four. Then a few more when Nat wasn't looking.

"Stop, stop." She took the bottle away from her. "It's too much."

But Lottie just laughed a drunken giggle and grabbed her face. "I know."

In a second, she disappeared.

Nat thought it would be fine. Sure, she could barely handle three shots of vodka herself, but Lottie was taller. That was supposed to make a difference, right?

"Lottie!" she called out. "Where the fuck are you?!"

The room moved slower than her body. She was running, but she wasn't —not on purpose, anyway. 

She saw the wall approaching after bouncing to the floor. It was like a clapper to a church bell. The sound of the dull thud rang from her head through her spine.

When she sat up, she couldn't figure out where in that stupid, useless, huge house she was. She climbed up and down staircases, through hallways, walked in and out of rooms, but no Lottie.

She found the living room after a while, couldn't tell how long. The bottle of vodka was knocked over the table, empty.

"Fuck, Lottie, what did I fucking say?" she mumbled.

Then she saw her, swimming in the pool like it wasn't forty degrees outside.

She walked to the edge of it. Lottie chuckled when she saw her.

"You're bleeding."

Nat slid a hand across her forehead. Her head was pounding. She looked at the stain on her palm, certain it couldn't possibly be her own blood. She didn't feel a thing.

Lottie swam to where she stood, a trail of red dripping down her nose.

"So are you," Nat whispered.

Then she jumped into the pool.

Chapter Text

"Lot, wake up. There's someone in the house."

Nat's skin felt as if it had been dipped in boiling oil, and she had surely caught a cold. And her head hurt, partially because of the hangover, but also because her eyebrow was split in half.

"Come on! Up, up, up!"

She was in her underwear, so she was cold on top of everything. Lottie was too. It felt wrong to grab her bare shoulders, but she did. She shook her awake.

"Stop thaaat," Lottie slurred.

Nat got closer so she could talk into her ear. "What time do your parents get back?"

"I dunno. Like, four?"

"It is four, moron."

That got her to sit up. "Holy fuck."

"Relax. I cleaned up downstairs while you were—"

"Get in the closet."

Lottie sprung off the bed with that crazy look in her eyes. Nat knew something was wrong.

"What? Why?"

She got picked up and dragged in there without explanation.

"Not a sound. I'll be right back. But like, also, if it takes me a minute, don't come out."

Then she shut the door.

Nat looked around. She had goosebumps all over her body, so she rummaged through Lottie's clothes to find something to keep warm.

She skimmed by multiple peasant dresses, tennis skirts, cutoff blouses, florals, fur, and a few bright tops; she decided on the fact that Lottie's style was not only polar-opposite to hers, but also horrible for winter.

So she sat on the carpet in her black underwear and hugged her knees.

Lottie came back god-knows-how-long later. "Took your goddamn time," Nat grumbled. "You shove a lot of girls in your closet?"

She closed the door behind her, giggling. "No. Just you." 

Apparently, Lottie had gotten dressed after locking her in there —she had a long, purple sweater on that could only belong to a forty-year-old woman or a child.

Great. Now, Nat wasn't just freezing, she was also deeply uncomfortable.

"Do you have anything in here that doesn't look like stretched-out Barbie doll shit?"

Lottie's eyes scanned her, head to toe, which didn't help with the awkwardness. She looked through her clothes, smiling to herself. "You used to wear dresses like mine."

"What? No, I didn't."

"Yeah, you did." She reached for something deep inside a drawer, so her voice came out strained. "In middle school. Sure, they were black, but they were dresses. Pretty ones, too. I liked them."

"We didn't know each other then," Nat pointed out. She was a nobody in middle school. Why would Lottie remember her at all?

But Lottie offered no reason. She handed her a black t-shirt and ripped jeans of the same color. "Haven't worn those since I was, like, twelve, but they should fit you."

Nat was so cold, she couldn't care less if Lottie had just made fun of both her height and her style.

"Where are your clothes, anyway?" Lottie asked.

"Wet, thanks to you."

A beat.

"What?"

Nat looked up to see a genuinely confused Lottie, a hint of fear pinching her forehead. "You don't remember jack shit, do you?" 

She dashed her eyes around like the memories would find her. Nat rejoiced in the embarrassment that was about to hit her like it was her revengeful baseball bat.

Zipping up her pants, she stepped closer and leaned on a cabinet.

"Alright. Well, you drank half a bottle of vodka, spilled the rest on the floor. Then you ran off somewhere. I found you in the pool, fully clothed, nose bleeding. It was so cold, but you wouldn't get out so I pulled you out. Had to push you inside the shower to get you warm. You shivered, like, violently, then you threw up all over—"

"Oh my fucking god." Lottie turned around with her head between her hands. "Shut up, I don't wanna hear anymore."

"No, come on! This is the best part!" Nat laughed. "You– you threw up all over yourself, and then you realized your nose was bleeding, so you started panicking saying it would fall off—"

"No, no, no," Lottie groaned. She wouldn't look at Nat, which was probably for the best. She was red and teary from laughing as hard as she was.

"So, when I finally got you to calm down, you saw I was bleeding too, so you slapped yourself because you were convinced it was all a bad dream. And I told you it wasn't so you slapped me!"

Lottie slid down the wall dramatically, hands still over her ears and eyes pressed shut. "That's it. I can never speak to you again."

Seeing she had crushed Lottie's ego enough, Nat bit her tongue on how she had fallen asleep on her chest, because, as she had put it, Nat "breathed nice".

She crouched down beside her, tugging her hands down. "Hey, weirdo."

Lottie cracked her left eye open to look at her.

"I think you're the coolest person I know. Besides D'arcy Wretzky, of course."

That made her smile, and Lottie's smile made Nat smile.

"Shut up."

"I'm serious!"

Nat leaned forward, her body resting on the dresser. Lottie's arms were finally down, her eyes fully open. She was close enough that the edges of her face were blurry. Close enough that Nat could speak in that low, quiet voice she only used when she was by herself.

"You're fun," she told her.

Lottie flashed a sorrowful side smile. "Sorry I locked you in my closet."

Nat thought it was cute how her whole face would scrunch when she was embarrassed. It made her want to smooth all the creases out with her hands.

"Right. Why did you, by the way?"

She shrugged, but her lips were pursed, so Nat could tell it bothered her. "My parents…they don't like it when I have friends over."

"Is that a rich people thing?"

Lottie let out a breathy chuckle. Her voice was quiet too, like they were sharing a big secret in a crowded room. "No. More like a stuck-up, annoying thing."

"Did they catch you with a guy up here or something?"

"What? No. That's ridiculous."

Nat couldn't help but laugh. She hadn't heard someone sound so disgusted at the idea of boys or sex since she was in fifth grade.

"Forget it. Maybe it is a rich people thing." She stood up like she was in a rush, then stuck a hand out to Nat. "C'mon, you gotta leave before they see you."

***

"Just hit the east side of the LBC! On a mission tryna find Mr. Warren G!"

Shauna took the center of the circle. She was wearing Jackie's red sunglasses, which seemed to pump her confidence up to a hundred. Either that or the booze they had stolen from Jackie's basement.

Taissa joined in, twirled her around. "Seen a car full of girls, ain't no need to tweak!

All you skirts know what's up with 213!"

In a corner of the room, Van tried to get Laura Lee to loosen up to no avail. The song was too unholy for her. She fidgeted with the cross on her chest, mumbling what Nat guessed was a prayer.

Mari chugged whatever was left of the wine bottle while Jackie climbed up the stairs with two new ones.

Nat wasn't too sure how she'd ended up there.

She didn't even want to go to that stupid sleepover. Prissy Jackie's house filled with girls she only spent time with during soccer practice, booze that didn't burn her throat on its way down, and Yellowjackets-themed snacks?

Huge pass for Nat.

Unfortunately, the whole reason for the sleepover was that varsity training was officially over. They'd flunked regionals in December, and since graduation was near and they were busy, the seniors played one last local game and were let go —which meant that Lottie didn't have to train with brutes anymore. Given the bruises on her legs and the fading scar on her chin, Lottie was an amazing reason to have a party. 

Lottie, who had grabbed her hand from behind her and spun her around so fast she almost fell over.

"So, I hooks a left on 21 and Lewis," Lottie sang, arms over Nat's shoulders, swaying her from side to side.

Nat followed. "Some brothers shootin' dice, so I said "Let's do this!""

"I jumped out the ride and said "What's up?" Some brothers pulled some gats, so I said "I'm stuck!""

The speakers quieted. Jackie announced, "Time for some truth or dare, bitches!"

They sat down in a circle —an unbalanced one, with Shauna and Jackie on a single armchair, Mari, Laura Lee, and Taissa on the big couch, and the rest on the floor. Lottie lay on her back, head on Nat's lap.

Since she was the hostess, Jackie began. She picked Shauna, to no one's surprise. Shauna chose truth, but since Jackie "already knew everything about her" —Jackie's words— she made her switch to dare. Nat rolled her eyes and caught Lottie doing the same.

Shauna took her shirt off for ten minutes, then Van drank vinegar; Mari told them about her kissing a senior when she was a freshman. Laura Lee had to finish off the rest of the wine, and Taissa ran three laps around the house in less than thirty seconds. Lottie switched clothes with Taissa. Jackie got asked why she had broken up with Jeff the last time, and then she picked Nat.

"Natalie," Jackie smiled. "Truth or dare?"

Nat could tell she had something up her sleeve when she answered, "Truth."

"Is it true you fucked Levi Houser in a rusty car at the junkyard?"

Ah, there it was.

Jackie sure knew how to fuck up a good time.

And she still had that smile on, like she was genuinely curious and not just a jerk. The girls were looking around with open mouths.

What bothered Nat the most was that she had, in fact, been with Levi Houser. But it wasn't in some abandoned car, for fuck's sake. 

He was part of the junkyard crew, so Nat saw him around, spoke to him a few times. He was also a year older and taught her how to shotgun. She went to his house once during spring break and it sort of just…happened. 

Nat knew how people at school saw her, even then. Slut, burnout. For no reason, too. They didn't need one. 

She knew how the story would get twisted, but she still did it because it was fun. She liked sex. She liked the leading up to it, the excitement.

But she hated Jackie, because now that the story was out through her mouth, nobody would question it. They would believe her. Everyone believed girls like Jackie.

"Fuck you," she told her, and she meant it from the bottom of her heart. 

She walked off with tears in her eyes and her dad's words churning in her stomach.

Lottie followed her into Jackie's room and lay beside her. She didn't say anything for a minute, just kept her company. The mattress was almost too small to fit them both, so their sides were squished against each other. Nat worried she would feel her shoulders shake whenever she held back sobs.

"You know Jeff cheats on her every time he thinks they're broken up, right?" 

Lottie voiced that sharply, like her tongue was the blade of a knife.

"And her Mom is like… obsessed with them. You can tell her parents haven't fucked since she was conceived."

Despite her attempts to focus on her misery, Nat simply had to snort. 

"She's probably the only living person who doesn't hate Jackie."

"Nobody hates Jackie."

"Of course they do. They admire her. They wanna be her. But they don't like her. She's a cunt and the team knows it."

Nat wanted to believe that was true, but she couldn't.

"Sorry I'm ruining your party."

Lottie laughed. "Please, the only reason I agreed to this was because we never spend time together."

"Like, the team?"

"No, loser. You and me." Lottie shifted, her knuckles drumming Nat's. "You're always off with your stupid friends."

"Yeah, 'cause you're always off with your stupid friends."

She sighed, long and deep. "I don't even like them all that much."

"Oh, but you like me."

"Tragically."

"Even though I'm a whore that screws older guys in unsanitary places?" Nat teased with a smile, but Lottie didn't laugh that time.

She was playing with her fingers —Nat could feel it on the back of her hand. Their heads were too close for her to turn and look at her, so she just waited.

"Look, I— I know Jackie probably lied about the whole thing, but…I mean, did you sleep with that guy?"

Lottie's tone was soft, yet she could hear a vulnerable uneasiness in it. Nat got the feeling Lottie was hoping she'd deny the whole thing. That Nat wasn't what everyone said she was.

She nodded. She didn't need to say it, Lottie felt her head move on the pillow.

"Oh. Okay."

***

"JV, how are we feeling?!"

As the girls ran inside, clapping and cheering filled the room. Van banged on the lockers, a few others stomped their feet. Jackie got up on a bench like she owned the place.

"We gonna crush it next year or what?!"

And it started all over again.

It's not that Nat wasn't happy, she just wasn't in the mood to shout, or clap, or…well, smile at all.

Lottie hadn't talked to her since Jackie's sleepover. Three weeks and two days of polite greetings and goodbyes, maybe some technical talk out on the field or a head nod and half-smile when they passed each other by in the hallways. Nothing else. It made Nat want to rip her eyelashes off one by one.

Yet here Lottie was, laughing and howling like everything was totally fine. Like she wasn't a complete asshole who ignored her friends just because of Jackie's bitchy lies.

But how come she believed her at all? Didn't Lottie know her better than that?

"Nat! Come on!" Van called her.

Her head snapped up. She couldn't tell how long she had zoned out for.

The girls were huddled up in a circle, waiting for her. Laura Lee let go of Lottie's waist and beckoned her over.

She walked up to them, a smile plastered on her face. Laura Lee's arm hugged her waist, so she wrapped her left arm around her shoulders. Then it was Lottie's turn. It took her a second too long to carefully place her palm on her upper back, so lightly it might as well have been covered in thorns.

Nat's head was hot with rage. She wanted to scream, let it all out.

"Scared to touch me now? Or are you grossed out?! Think you'll get an STD just by fucking breathing near me?! Screw you! Screw all of you!"

Except she didn't. She held it in long enough for the team bullshit to be over, then she grabbed her things and left. Not one word.

She felt fourteen once more, rushing out of the locker room on her last day, cursing Lottie inside her head.

Chapter Text

Nat didn't see the girls over summer break. 

They invited her to hang out once. Apparently, they wanted to go for burgers and kick the ball around for a while, just for fun. Nat had plans with Rick, and she truly had no wish to talk to any of them, so she said she was busy.

Her hair was back to black and she was attending every concert she could afford —sometimes getting the money by picking up packages and delivering them to shady addresses alongside Rick. At some shows, this guy she knew, Ralph, he'd give her some pills or bags, point to a few people in the crowd, and she snuck them over. She'd get a cut for that too.

It wasn't like she could go to jail for it. At least she didn't think she could.

Besides, even if her mom found out, she wouldn't care. She didn't do a lot more than sleep, drink, and watch TV. It was hard for Nat to even call her Mom sometimes.

A bar she frequented hosted a Live Rock night on the last Friday before school began, and Nat was making the most of it. 

The place was packed. She was smoking and drinking so much that Rick asked if she was aiming for an overdose.

"No. I'm going for zero," she told him. He looked confused, but she knew what she meant.

Absolute zero. Nothing. That point when music stopped making sense to her ears and dancing became floating. When keeping her eyes open was pointless because she could barely discern anything except lights and bodies.

And she was so close to that.

But then she saw her.

Lottie and her friends —the ones she didn't seem to dislike as much as she said she did, given she kept hanging out with them— swimming inside the crowd.

It was like a bucket of ice fell on her head. She was too aware of the world around her, though that world had been reduced to Lottie Matthews holding her hands up and singing across the room.

A pink summer dress hung from her shoulders. Her bangs were thicker and her hair a bit shorter, held into place by a checkered headband. She had a thousand bracelets around her wrists. 

And like she could feel her watching, she turned and looked straight at Nat. It was just a second that their eyes lingered on each other, before Lottie pretended she hadn't seen her at all.

Her stomach sank. Lottie had gone from politely distancing herself from Nat to shamelessly pretending she didn't exist. Gone from a bitch to nothing at all. Absolute fucking zero.

Fine. If Lottie thought she was a dirty slut, then she could be just that.

She turned to this guy who had been staring at her for a while. Just by looking at him, he knew to walk up to her. They danced, and he held her so close to his body that she thought they'd melt together.

He was finally kissing her —deeply, heated— when a hand yanked her back and out of the crowd. She was fighting to stay on her feet, so she couldn't see who it was until she got pushed into the bathroom.

Lottie was looking at her like she had just murdered somebody. "How much have you had?"

Nat chuckled. "Fuck you."

She bent over the sink and drank some water. Bathrooms always made her feel a thousand times drunker.

"How much?"

Nat wiped her mouth, red lipstick smeared on her palm. She stepped closer to her so she could really look her in the eye. "Fuck. You."

Lottie crossed her arms. "You're wasted. Go home."

"I might. Or I might go to that guy's home. He's hot, don't you think?"

"Do you even know his name?"

Nat smirked, whispering, "I wouldn't need his name at all."

"Stop that," Lottie sighed. "Why do you have to be such a jerk all the time?"

"That's rich coming from you."

"Whatever. I'm finding Rick and telling him to get you out of here before you get kidnapped."

" Whatever ," she mocked.

Nat bumped past her, leaving both their shoulders sore. She tumbled out the door with tears swelling in her eyes.

Chapter Text

"Frail and Bedazzled" blasted through the speakers of Rick's dad's pickup truck. He would loan it to him as long as he picked up his grandma every Tuesday for yoga and Sunday for bingo, which worked out great for Nat; she got free rides and none of the obligations.

The three of them parked just outside of school —Nat, Rick, and Colin, this guy they'd met at a show over the summer. Some cops had taken away their booze and he offered to share his blunt. They talked and he seemed chill, so they all started to hang out together.

"I swear, she gets hotter every year," Colin spoke like he was in pain. Both boys had their eyes glued on Kara Hill, a senior who strived for a modeling career just by existing.

"Stop staring, you two. It's creepy."

Rick was close to drooling. "If she gives us legs, we're gonna look."

Nat smacked the back of his head. "That's not how that works."

"Ow. Fine." He rubbed his neck. She did hit him pretty hard.

"Shit, there's Alec," Nat chuckled. They had been in the same Lit class for years, and she knew two things about him: he was on the baseball team and he loved to take off his shirt.

"Jesus, dude, I don't wanna see your fucking nipples." Rick shielded his eyes.

"Why do they have their uniforms on? I thought baseball shit didn't start until September."

"It doesn't. They're just pricks who need to tell the world that they smack balls around sometimes."

"Makes sense."

Rick was leaning closer, squinting. "Whoa. Nat, isn't that one of the girls on your team?"

She followed his gaze to thick white sneakers, a plaid mini skirt, and a fitted tank top; brown waves getting tangled by the wind, and some girl from her crew wrapped around her arm.

Lottie —fucking— Matthews, dolled up like never before.

The girl looked like what Nat thought of when she heard the words "high school chick". Or like she was auditioning to be Kara Hill junior.

"When did she get hot?" Rick asked. He sounded so genuine that maybe he was expecting a precise date.

Strangely, Nat's defense came on. "It's not like she was ugly before," she scolded him.

"No, but she wasn't…that."

She followed those entranced eyes the boys had back to where Lottie stood. She had joined a bigger group, and she was chatting and laughing with her perfect, pearly white smile.

"Do you still have that flask in here?" Nat asked, already rummaging through the glove compartment. She found it and popped it open.

Rick almost sounded concerned. "So early?" 

"Whatever," she shrugged, passing it to Colin.

Nat couldn't understand. She had seen Lottie the week before, and sure , she didn't remember much of it, but she seemed like the same old Lottie to her.

The radio filled the silence in that car. Frail and bedazzled from all the glare , it said. She thought that was exactly what Lottie was: a dolled-up little girl who was too afraid to make her own choices. Too scared that being friends with someone like Nat would mean giving up her shiny friends and her shiny life.

It was fine. It was always fine. She was Nat, she didn't give a shit about anything.

But just in case she might've later, she took another swing.

***

They played a local match the morning before homecoming, against a team from a nearby town. 

Jackie and Mari had complained endlessly about it, saying they wouldn't have time to get ready for the dance. Nat wasn't planning on attending any school dances, so she didn't mind. In fact, she enjoyed how much it bothered Jackie.

She was going on and on as she fixed her hair. "It's just unfair. Sports calendars are so made for boys. Like, of course they scheduled locals today. Boys don't care about homecoming—"

"I don't really care that much either," Van muttered. Nat could tell she was just as sick of Jackie's rambling.

"Checks out," Mari giggled.

Taissa slammed her locker shut, glaring at her.

Jackie looked around at the dominoes her words had knocked down with those big, idiotic eyes she had. "I was just saying," she shrugged.

Nat saw an opening and she took it. "Yeah, well, maybe you should try shutting the hell up sometime."

"Okay!" Lottie smiled uncomfortably. "Real bad energy in here today." She clasped her hands together. "We just have to get through it. Try to have some fun. But— also win, right?"

The girls blank-stared at her. She sucked at the whole team captain thing.

Because, yes, on top of suddenly becoming some sort of hotter, smarter version of Jackie, Lottie had also been named JV team captain, which was a real drag for Nat.

She opened her locker and stuck her head inside, sneaking a sip from the flask she had stolen from her mom earlier that day.

Drinking at school had become more of a rule than a wonder. She did it when she was nervous about a presentation, during free periods with Colin, before soccer practice and after that, sometimes because she was bored.

They went out for warm-ups, and the game started a bit after. It was supposed to be a breeze. The other team was slow with their passes, and their goalie looked like a dressed-up cub thrown into the wilderness. Besides, as far as they knew, their school hadn't won a single soccer game in years.

Despite all odds being in their favor, half an hour in, they hadn't scored a single goal. Jackie and Mari's heads were elsewhere, Taissa was angry at both of them, Shauna's tag kept digging her elbows into her stomach, and Lottie wouldn't pass the ball to Nat even when she was open, which she was certain was on purpose.

By halftime, she had sweated out the wine, and four months' worth of bottled-up resentment were taking its place.

She walked up to her while she was getting water. "What the hell, Lottie? I've been clear all game."

"Sorry, didn't see you."

Nat scoffed. Something popped inside her.

Huddle, shout, whistle. The match resumed.

Number thirteen kicked over to Five, Shauna’s tag, who she finally elbowed back. The ball rolled, stranded. Lottie was closer, but Nat was angrier. She ran across the field and caught it, bolting straight for the goal area. Nine and Two surrounded her, and of course, her team was too late to follow her, so Two kicked the ball off pitch. 

Lottie jogged past her. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

Nat didn't answer.

Shout, whistle. Lottie had the corner kick. Nat was open and near —again— but she ran past her — again .

She considered holding back for a second.

Then she tackled the ball from her.

Confused, the other team didn't try to stop her, and she scored. She wasn't even happy about it, and neither was Lottie.

"The fuck was that?!" Lottie screamed in her face.

"Winning."

Nat tried to walk it off, but Lottie kicked the back of her knee. Hands on damp grass, she whipped her head around. Lottie was calmly planted with her arms crossed, like she was challenging her.

Her fingers itched with fury. "You little bitch."

She stood up and shoved her hard enough that Laura Lee had to catch her. Lottie bounced right back and aimed for another push.

Taissa got in the middle, forcing them apart. "Hey, hey, hey! Stop!"

Shout. Several whistles. "That's it!" Coach Ben shouted, holding his hands up to the referee. "Five! We're taking five!"

He turned to them, visibly enraged but with his everpresent kindness set in his eyes. Coach Ben was like Lottie in that way. At least like old Lottie.

"I don't know what's going on, but if it happens again, I'm benching you for the rest of the season. You're a team, you have to act like it." He put his hands on his hips and sighed. "Go cool off."

No complaint, Lottie headed for the locker room.

Nat wasn't cooling off. All her wrath had unleashed and she wasn't about to let it go to waste. She wasn't wrong, Lottie was, and she wanted to let her know.

She barged inside. Lottie was sitting on a bench, holding her head between her hands. Her forehead wrinkled when she saw her.

"I'm not doing this with you," Lottie said.

"Oh, yes, you fucking are."

She straightened up, shaking her head, but Nat blocked her path.

"You're just like Jackie, you know that?" 

Lottie stood tall in front of her, brown eyes rolling back. "Why? For not wanting to pass the ball to you since you're obviously drunk? Or maybe for trying to keep you from hurting yourself at that show?"

"Yeah, you're my fucking savior, Lot. That's why you haven't talked to me since Jackie's sleepover."

Nat took a step forward, so Lottie stepped back. Her gaze wandered in every direction but Nat's.

"You're a fucking hypocrite. You think you're so much better than everyone but you aren't."

"What?"

"That night. I told you about Levi and you were so weird about it. And then you didn't talk to me for months—"

"It's not like you talked to me either."

Nat pointed a finger at her. "Don't do that. You know you treated me like I was fucking diseased."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did, Lottie!" Her voice cracked. She breathed fast enough to swallow her tears back. "Come on, you won't talk to me, you won't even come near me!"

Lottie kept retreating into the wall behind her, which only proved Nat's point. "I– That's not–" she spluttered, somewhere between chuckling and gagging.

"Shit." The sting behind her eyes was only getting worse, but she wouldn't. She wouldn't cry in front of her.

Her legs moved abruptly enough for Lottie to flinch.

"You wanna believe Jackie's bullshit? You wanna go around saying I'm a slut who hooks up with anyone and has multiple STDs?! Fine!"

"I don't—"

"But at least don't act like you're my friend. If you wanna be a bitch, own up to it."

Lottie shook her head. "That's not— Fuck!" she snapped. She was breathing hard as well, running her hands through her hair.

"What?" Nat seethed.

"It's not— That's not why I've been…distant."

"Then why, Lottie?!" Nat begged, getting even closer. She could feel Lottie's breath on her face. "Why the fuck are you being like this?!"

Her jaw was quivering, her throat sore from holding back. Nat didn't want to admit it to herself, but she cared. She actually cared; so much, so deeply. And it hurt just as deep.

Lottie watched her, lower lip between her teeth like she was keeping the answer to Nat's questions from slipping out. 

She threw her hands on Lottie's jersey, somehow clawing it while pushing her. "Just fucking talk to—"

Lips cut her off.

Lottie was kissing her. She grabbed her face and pulled her in and kissed her.

It happened fast, or slow, and hard, but soft.

Where she gripped, Nat had gone limp. Her hands fell to Lottie's sides. She wasn't sure what to do with them. She wasn't sure what to do with anything at all. Then again, she wasn't trying to figure it out.

It was that dizziness of spinning in a dark room, or telling someone a secret, or playing soccer. That feeling of tuning the future out and only worrying about that specific instant when your body is warm and faces are blurry.

So Nat kissed her back.

She tumbled forward. Her hands didn't wander, they looked. Palms ran up Lottie's back, fingers dug into fabric like they were willing it to disintegrate.

And Lottie strayed hers in Nat's hair, pulling and pressing her deeper.

But just as it had started, it was over.

Lottie pushed her off like she was ripping a band-aid.

Nat didn't want to wake up from it. Once she lost herself in something —or someone— it was hard to find her way back, and Nat was too keen on being adrift. She urged her eyes not to open and look at Lottie's reddened lips, but they did.

She seemed pained, studying that short second like she knew the illusion was crumbling.

"That's why, asshole," she whispered.

Then she let it fall, turned around, and Nat could finally see her: Lottie —same old Lottie— tucking her jersey back into her shorts and jogging out to the field.

Except…

No.

She wiped her mouth and followed her.

Huddle. Shout. Whistle.

They won that game ten to zero.

Chapter Text

Rick, Colin, and Nat had gone on a drive after locals. Not because the team won; those two couldn't give less of a damn about soccer. It was more like a protest drive since everybody else was at Homecoming.

They drove halfway through the highway and back, music blaring through the speakers. Nat slipped out the window and onto the back of the pickup.

September kept the winds warm. She wanted to feel cold again. She wanted her brain to focus on keeping her from dying and not let her think about anything else.

The boys were coming down from the Heart-Shaped Box high as they drove past the school. Nat spotted her quickly, sitting on the curb, all fixed up. She had her heels in her hands.

"Pull over!" she told Rick, banging on the window. 

Nat got off without waiting for him to stop. Luckily, Lottie was far enough not to notice her stumble —though, as she walked closer, a sense of dread ate away at Nat’s will to speak with her, so she lit a cigarette and trapped it between her teeth.

She had a light blue dress on. Thin straps, smooth fabric. Nat thought about telling her how pretty she looked in it. Then she shook it away and took a drag.

"Hey," she bit out, the stick in her mouth still. "Leaving so soon?"

Lottie's head snapped up. She looked at Nat like she wanted to combust spontaneously. "Hi," she managed.

Her voice was sore. Nat bobbed her head toward the school gym, where the music escaped from. "You have fun?"

"Yeah."

She couldn't tell whether Lottie's strange tone was due to dishonesty or her unexpected presence. 

Nat sat down next to her, at an arm's distance. Lottie was uncomfortable enough to add physical proximity to it. She put her hands in the pockets of her black leather jacket as Lottie tried not to assume a tornado drill position. The girl stretched out her legs and opened up her chest like an animal trying not to look like prey.

They remained that way for a minute too long, until Lottie spoke. "If you're gonna say it, just say it."

Nat praised her courage in her head, despite the fact that she wasn't even sure what she wanted to tell her. She just wanted them to go back to normal, to how it was before they got everything so wrong.

"Look, Lottie, I…" Nat had to look at the pavement to say it. "I don't like you like that. I don't, uh… like girls, you know?"

She turned to face Lottie, folding into herself like wrinkled paper. Nat had always felt like a torn page, sort of visibly damaged and brittle.

Lottie was more like water in that way. Nat couldn't explain why. She looked at her and she knew.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Her head shook desperately. "Yeah, no, it's fine. Like, totally fine," she chuckled.

For a moment, Nat thought it was over.

"But, I—" Lottie's face was scrunching in that way of hers. "W–why…why did you kiss me back, then?"

She sank her eyes into Nat's, and she worried her paper was also see-through. Maybe Lottie could see some deep, ugly truth Nat didn't know about —because, full honesty, she still had no idea why she'd gone along with it.

"I don't know." She drew on the cigarette. "Maybe I was still kind of fucked up."

Nat tried to laugh. Lottie did too.

She shuffled closer to her and stretched her hand out in between them. "Friends?"

Lottie smiled sweetly. Then she jerked the cigarette out of her mouth and crammed it into the pavement.

"Of course."

And she shook her hand.

Rick honked repeatedly. Colin piled over him and shouted out the window, "Ask her if she needs a ride!"

"Yeah, ask her!"

They both chuckled. Lottie accepted —apparently her parents weren't supposed to pick her up for another hour. Nat didn't ask why she was sitting out there by herself, she was afraid of being the reason.

She held Lottie's shoes and helped her onto the trunk. They sat against the back window so they'd face the street. It was better than watching Rick and Colin fight over which song to play since they had a "lady in the house".

They settled on Creep , which Nat thought was fitting.

She leaned over to whisper into Lottie's ear. "Just so you know, they're both madly in love with you."

Lottie snorted, and they looked at each other, close, smiling. Her cheeks were a bit flushed. Her lips were glossy. Her mascara had smeared. The wind blew her hair on her face.

"What?" Lottie asked.

Nat tried to put it into words, the feeling in her chest that she was breathing for the first time in so long. But she couldn't, she wasn't very good at that. She just kept smiling.

"Nothing."

***

"Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!" the girls chanted as they ran into the field.

It was their first practice since they won the first round of local matches. Both JV and varsity had won, so everybody was hyped.

They warmed up, then Coach Ben called them in. "Alright, girls, take a knee!"

He told them he was proud of how well they'd done, even though there had been some setbacks. Nat and Lottie turned to each other. She realized they hadn't apologized for what they did that day. 

Lottie smiled and wiggled her eyebrows at her, so Nat guessed they were cool.

"How about some pinnie tag today?"

JV cheered more than varsity did. They loved that game.

First up were high knees. It was kind of funny seeing everyone run around like that. Mari, Jackie, and two seniors started out as tags, and it ended with Jackie and three seniors. Jackie had passed the pinnie around, but she made the mistake of tagging Shauna last, and she tagged her right back. 

Nat got to tag on the second group. As soon as Coach Ben handed her the pinnie, she narrowed her eyes at Lottie. Throughout that round, they tagged each other back and forth. By the end of it, Nat was out of breath, laughing on the ground, and Lottie had the pinnie.

"Alright, you two, that's enough of that," coach Ben told them. Lottie helped Nat stand up. "Thirty burpees each."

"But I tagged her!" Nat complained. Coach Ben pointed downward and raised his eyebrows.

Lottie gloated, of course.

Next round, the tags were all seniors. This one brunette chased Lottie around and accidentally knocked her down. She picked her up and they laughed it off; the girl didn't even give her the pinnie. As they were about to jog away, she put her hand on Lottie's lower back and said something that made her giggle.

Nat got so caught up in the scene that she didn't notice Van tagging her. She had to do thirty push-ups while she replayed the moment in her head.

Later, Lottie came up to her in the locker room. She had just finished showering, scrunching her hair with a towel.

"Hey, some of us are hanging out at the mall after. Wanna come?"

Nat hid a snort inside her locker. "Yeah, uh, pass."

"Oh, sorry, didn't realize you had such better plans." She leaned against the wall with a dramatic sigh. "You, Tweedledum, Tweedledee, and a pack of cigs, talking about insurgent bands and skulls?"

"Fuck you," Nat chuckled. "Who's going, anyway?"

"Uh, I think Jackie, Shauna, some of my friends, Camila—"

"Who's Camila?"

Lottie fidgeted with her nails. "One of the seniors. You've probably seen her around."

Nat could tell she was playing nonchalant. A smile crept onto her face as she stepped closer. "Is she the girl that was feeling you up today during practice?"

"Ew!" Lottie scolded her quietly, smacking her with the towel. "Shut up."

"Well, is she?" Nat asked in a low voice that time.

Lottie rolled her eyes. "Yes. But it's not like she's coming with us, she just said she'd be there."

She smiled without even realizing as she said it. Nat thought it was sweet, wondering if Lottie had ever done that because of her. Then she scolded herself; that was a very weird thing to muse on.

"Look at you, all happy and shit." She grabbed her jaw and pretended to inspect her. "One day and you're already fucking whipped."

"I'm not." Lottie, face as red as could possibly be, pulled away. "Whatever. I'd rather hang with you anyway."

Nat zipped up her gear bag. "No, you don't. Go with your horrible friends and the hot senior. Call me when you're home."

She left before Lottie could argue.

The phone rang while Nat's mom was passed out in the living room, so she took it into her bedroom and sat on the floor.

"How'd it go?" Nat asked immediately.

"What happened to saying hi?"

"Hi. How'd it go?"

Lottie's chuckle sounded gritty on the phone. "It was fun. She's great."

Nat lit a joint she had in her drawer and took a drag.

"We got milkshakes and talked, and she said we should do something together sometime, just the two of us."

"Did you get her number?"

"No."

"Come on, Lot! That's basic stuff."

"What for? We see each other all the time at school."

"True." She sucked in some more. "So you're going on a date, huh?"

"She didn't use the word date."

"But it is a date."

Nat could hear the grin on her face. "Yeah, I guess."

"That's great." As always, Lottie's smile spread onto hers. "I'm happy for you, Lot."

"Yeah, me too."

She let herself fall on the floor, the arm holding the blunt stretched to the side, and sighed. "Alright. I'm gonna go fuck around for a bit and go to bed. See you at practice?"

"Sure. Good night."

Nat waited for Lottie to hang up, then rested the phone on her chest. It was reassuring to have weight over it, pinning her down. Her body felt light as a feather.

She truly was happy for Lottie, but the whole thing had just left her feeling a little numb. Or maybe it was the weed. 

Either way, she was glad about Camila. Nat thought it might help them shrug off their situation, which wasn't even a situation anymore. They were friends and that was that. Lottie would get over it soon.

Her tongue got bitter when she thought about that —Lottie losing feelings for her. But that was selfish. Unrequited shit sucked, and she cared about Lottie, she didn't want her to put up with it any longer.

At least she wasn't supposed to.

Yeah, Nat felt like a narcissistic piece of shit.

But it was fine. She was craving attention because she hadn't gotten any action since summer break. It would pass.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted a trail of smoke. The rank of burnt fabric filled her nostrils. Nat sat up with heavy eyelids, joint still in hand.

She had scorched a hole in the carpet.

Chapter Text

November went like this.

Lottie's parents left for Europe on the seventh; they would be gone until Thanksgiving. Nat moved in on the eighth. She was fighting with her mom often, and though she felt guilty for abandoning her for two whole weeks, Lottie's house was like that candy cabin from Hansel and Gretel. She simply had to accept the invitation.

On the first day, they watched movies and went to bed early. They weren't too tired, so, as soon as the lights were off, they let their mouths ramble.

"I missed so much class last week, dude," Nat sighed, facing the ceiling. "And I'm failing Chem. I'm sure the principal is gonna call my house. But it's not like my mom's gonna do jack shit."

"Yeah, I'm failing too, and I don't even have to miss any class to do that." Nat felt Lottie's eyes on the side of her face, so she turned towards her. "Tai and Van are in my Chem class. Maybe I'll ask them for their notes."

"Sounds good." She considered her following words for a second. "Speaking of, is it just me or is there something…going on?"

"With Tai and Van?"

"Yeah."

It was so dark, all Nat could see was her smile and the white in her eyes.

"Right?!"

"I knew it!"

"Well, I know as much as you do, but I agree, definitely." Lottie rolled a bit closer to her. "Should we ask them?"

"No way they'll tell us."

"Maybe they will. They're our friends."

Nat chuckled bitterly. "They're your friends —I barely talk to them."

"You should!" She waited for silence to settle before her proposal. "We could ask them to hang out."

The next day, Van and Tai came over. Lottie was annoyingly persuasive.

They were supposed to study but ended up sprawled in front of the chimney, talking about how they should be studying.

"Ms. Hill is such a bitch too. Maybe I'd like Chem more if she didn't scoff every time she hands me an assignment back," Van said, head hanging upside down from the couch.

Lottie and Nat had their backs resting against the other's. It was the only solution they found to the giggling issue —whenever they were studying and looked up at each other, they'd start laughing, which made Van laugh, which annoyed Tai. So no looking at one another.

"Yeah," Lottie sighed. "Once she was going on and on about how if we had any questions we should ask because if we didn't we'd fail. But when I did she lectured me, said I shouldn't ask dumb questions."

Lottie crossed her arms and dropped her head on Nat's shoulder. Nat tried not to breathe too hard so its rise and fall wouldn’t bother Lottie.

Van rolled around to lie on her stomach. "Dude, same! I went to one of her stupid group tutoring sessions and she full-on screamed at me because I didn't understand electrons or some shit."

Nat chuckled. "I told her I couldn't study for a test 'cause my dog died and she didn't believe me, so the next day I brought a handful of dirt from where we'd buried him and dumped it on her desk."

Van's mouth fell open, amused.

"Wait, did you, actually?" Lottie's head turned to question Nat from her spot on her shoulder.

"Yeah. That one might be on me."

"Definitely," she laughed.

Nat didn't mention how Ms. Hill looked at her without losing composure and said, "Why do you bother, Natalie? You're a lost cause either way."

They moved on from that topic, studied for a while. At some point, Tai got really close to Van to explain something, but Van wasn't looking at the notebook at all —she just stared at her. Tai seemed to catch her and smiled shyly before elbowing her.

Lottie shot Nat a look.

"I'm gonna go check if there are any old study guides for this in the basement." She stood up, eyes on Nat's. "Come with?"

They ran as soon as they turned the first corner, holding in giggles. Lottie switched the basement light on; Nat fought not to fly downstairs.

"Oh my God!" Lottie dropped her back against a wall, hands on her knees.

"We're so right!"

"We are!"

Nat could barely catch her breath. She grabbed Lottie's shoulders and shook them. "They're together!"

Lottie jiggled her back. "I know!"

They laughed, folding into each other. Nat watched Lottie, red and teary from it all, and wondered why she was so excited just a second ago.

Her laughter died down, so did Lottie's, and as she puffed her last chuckle she rested her head on the wall. Her legs were stretched in between Nat's; she could look her in the eyes.

Nat didn't let go of her arms. She felt stuck, watching the moment like she was in the backseat of her own head.

"What?" Lottie asked quietly, as she had the night after Homecoming.

And once again, Nat couldn't answer.

Just above Lottie's head, mounted on the wall, were three rifles. Polished wooden stocks, meticulously cleaned. Not like any old thing you'd find in a basement.

Nat hadn't seen a gun up close since the incident. She hadn't considered what that could be like. She didn't know her breathing would quicken, her chest would hurt, and her legs would go numb. They just did, and she tried to hide it as best as she could.

She jerked her hands back, seeing Lottie's arms had turned white from the pressure. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's fine. Are you ?"

Nat took a step back, tried to smile. "Yeah. Let's just go back up."

She pretended to study for five minutes before announcing she was going to the bathroom.

Nat could've just said she was going to light a joint, but she knew Lottie didn't like how much she smoked.

A few minutes passed and Van knocked on the door. She barged in without waiting for an answer.

"Can I get a hit?"

So she ended up sitting on Lottie's bathroom floor, getting high with Van, which wasn't how she had envisioned the study date going.

"I feel like we're hiding from our mothers," Van chuckled, eyes barely open.

Nat laughed. "God, we are."

She liked Van. She liked how she cared about every girl on the team and never had drama with anyone. There's a certain confidence needed to be a goalie, to stand on the sidelines and trust that you're part of the team, even if it doesn't always feel like it.

The two of them were similar in that sense —except Nat was a shit goalie.

"Are you coming to Bobby's party on Friday?" Van asked them as Tai fetched their jackets.

Lottie crossed her arms. "Uh, isn't he kind of a douche?"

"He's literally friends with your friends," Nat muttered, knowing Lottie heard her.

"Don't need to like him to trash his house," Tai said.

Nat had to agree with that.

Van and Tai left; Lottie and Nat cleaned up and got changed. Not a word was spoken throughout, which was fine until they were lying silently in bed.

Lottie got under the covers, her back turned on Nat, and flipped the bedside lamp off. Nat saw it coming before she even sat up and switched the light back on —it took her less than ten seconds.

"Why do you hate my friends?" Lottie snapped. Nat could see her gritting her teeth behind her pursed lips.

She pushed herself off the bed steadily. "You hate mine."

"I don't."

"You always talk shit about them."

"'Cause you talk shit about mine. Why?" she insisted.

Nat rolled her eyes and propped herself to her knees. "C'mon, Lot. They're assholes," she breathed out with some sort of smile. It was so obvious to her that Lottie's crossed arms felt ridiculous.

"I gathered you think that."

"Yeah, because it's true."

She shuffled closer to her and placed her palms on Lottie's forearms —which remained tangled in protest. 

"Look, I'm not saying you're an asshole, o–or that you should just stop being friends with them or something." She made her voice as soft as a feather. "But, Lot, those girls are the first ones to call people names —people like me . And the guys were full-blown bullies in middle school."

Lottie turned her head and watched the pillows. "Yeah, well…at least they're not all burnouts and stoners."

Nat's expression dropped in an instant. "Fuck this."

She let go of her rather forcefully and lay on her side, facing the wall. For a minute she thought Lottie would say something else. Then the light was off, and the opposite side of the mattress dipped one last time.

The back of her eyes stung. She shut them tight and pictured a better scene. Lottie put her hand on her back, she apologized, and Nat could turn around and hug her like she wanted to.

It didn't happen, but at least she fell asleep imagining it.

Next morning, they got ready for school in silence. A woman showed up at the door; Nat learned she was the housekeeper. Her parents had never hired a housekeeper, but she thought it was insane to let some stranger wander in a manor like the Matthews' by themselves. Though the lady seemed nice enough not to steal their ugly, expensive paintings.

Nat was brushing her teeth when she saw the red stain on her shorts. She got her fucking period and had forgotten to bring tampons to Lottie's.

Her hands flew to the cabinet door to avoid asking Lottie, since she was still pissed at her. She found some, but she also found a pill bottle tucked behind the tampon box. The kind you couldn't get prescribed by a regular doctor.

Nat closed the cabinet quickly and spit the foam in the sink.

She was still angry enough to shun her during drills. Coach Ben told them to pair up and Nat ran in the opposite direction to her. Van and her did half the exercises together —then Nat got distracted for five seconds, and suddenly Lottie was there instead.

Her eyes rolled before she told them to.

"Don't be mad at her," Lottie said to Nat, who watched Van jog toward Laura Lee. "I promised I'd give her my "Very Necessary" CD if she switched with me."

Nat sighed.

Coach Ben called out for them to work on some One versus Ones while he talked to Coach Martinez. Nat started out on the offense.

Lottie stood in front of her to block her. Nat waited for the whistle to blow.

"I'm sorry about last night," Lottie let out.

Unlike Lottie, Nat kept her eyes on the ball, so she got past her easily.

After she scored, it was Lottie's turn to attack.

Nat looked down and Lottie looked at her. "You know I didn't mean it."

Seeing Nat wouldn't answer, she went back to the drill. She was frustrated and it showed. It took Nat five seconds to tackle the ball from her.

Lottie huffed.

Her breathing quickened with each failed attempt. Whether she was attacking or defending, Nat won.

"Will you please talk to me?" she begged. Nat wouldn't even acknowledge her.

Lottie shot, Nat trapped. Lottie blocked, Nat slipped past her.

It was really getting to her —either the game or Nat's lack of response.

They set up again, Nat on the defense. She got closer than she was probably supposed to. It didn't matter, because once again, Lottie refused to look down.

"I get you're angry. I– I know people call you that, and it's really shitty, so…"

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, distressed —Nat sort of watched her from under her eyelids, still facing the grass.

"I'm not saying that, like, my friends are better than yours. Or that I am. I just worry, I mean, the drugs and all that. Like, a safety thing." She had to pause to catch her breath. "So can you please not be mad anymore?"

Lottie's request sounded so needy that Nat had to force her head to stay down. But she got what she hoped for.

"Natalie!" Lottie shouted, kicking the ball to the side.

She was panting, and she'd gotten closer, so there was barely any space between them when Nat looked up.

Lottie's breath hit her straight on, much warmer than the air around them. Her furrowed brow faltered as Nat watched her.

"Woah, hey!" Coach Ben called from a distance. "Not this again!"

Neither of them turned as he spoke. They kept defying eyes on each other.

"I'm not gonna say it twice: you get along or you get benched!"

Nat let the tension linger for a second longer, hearing the team's whispers rise. Then she grew that wide grin she had been holding back.

"I'm fucking with you, Lot," she whispered, dragging each word out to really enjoy it. Then, as Lottie's confusion set in, Nat pecked her cheek.

She turned to Coach Ben and all the meddling eyes, jazz hands on her sides.

"See? All good!" she announced.

It would've been more convincing had Lottie not wrapped her arms around her waist and toppled her to the ground.

"Are they laughing or crying?" Coach Ben asked Shauna.

"Uh, laughing, I think."

He sighed.

That night, Lottie's house felt much less soul-crushing.

They sat with their backs against each other in front of the chimney. Lottie was reading some book for Lit class and Nat listened to her "Doolittle" CD. She had tried to do her History homework but it didn't work out, so she bobbed her head and drummed her hands whenever she wanted to bother Lottie.

A hand slapped her arm, so she took her headphones off.

"Quit moving so much, you're distracting me."

Nat lay her head on her shoulder. "Good. I'm trying to."

Lottie shut her book and left it on her lap, tilting her head back as well. The fire's crackling lulled them.

"Hey, remember last year, Jackie's sleepover?" Nat asked. Her voice got raspy when she was tired, and so did Lottie's.

"Uh-huh."

"You said you didn't like them. Your friends. Did you mean that?"

She took longer to answer that time. "Uh-huh."

"Then why are you still friends with them?"

Lottie remained quiet for a while. Nat figured she was gathering the courage to answer, so she thought she'd give her a little push.

"I killed my dad, you know."

It didn't sound that concerning to Nat. She was used to her past. Lottie wasn't.

"Wait, what?" she asked, breathy —not like she was upset, more like the sentence wouldn't drill through her skull.

"Yup. Not directly, I guess. But I killed him in a way. I grabbed the gun and I cocked it."

"Did you shoot him?"

"No. He shot himself. Accidentally."

It was surprisingly easy to tell Lottie about it. She wasn’t scared or ashamed. Well, in a way, she was. Nat was always scared and ashamed of what happened that day. But saying it out loud didn’t make her want to chop her tongue off, which was progress.

"Damn. That sucks," Lottie said.

And Nat smiled, for some twisted reason. Lottie made it feel like exactly that: a shitty thing that had happened and nothing more.

The push worked because Lottie began to talk.

"They aren't that bad. Not most of the time, at least." She turned her head away from Nat, but that wouldn't stretch the little space between them. "There's just— there's a lot… wrong …with me. Things I don't need spread around school. They help with that. People have other shit to talk about when they're around."

Nat played with her fingers as if readying her hands to catch Lottie's fall. "Does this have something to do with the pills in your bathroom?" she asked slowly.

Lottie's body tensed up against hers. "What pills?" 

"The ones behind the tampon box?"

"Oh. N–no. Those aren't mine. And– did you go through my shit?!"

She straightened up and turned to face Nat, glaring at her. The fire reflected in her eyes, hateful, their usual kindness burning with it.

Nat gulped when she saw her straight-on, but she tried to look through it. Lottie was afraid, she was lashing out —Nat did that sometimes. "They have your name on them."

Her hand reached for Lottie's.

"I'm not judging. Swear, I'm just asking 'cause you're my friend a—and I wanna know what's going on. Wouldn't you ?"

Lottie's eyes traveled down to their joined hands. As they hesitated back up, they became softer.

"They're just pills. Bad shit happens if I don't take them. That's it."

"What kind of bad shit?"

"Just– Really bad shit, okay?"

Nat bobbed her head. She didn't want to push too hard.

"Okay."

They lay in bed with racing minds and sealed mouths. Nat didn't know what to say. She didn't want to make it weird, but Lottie had been very quiet since. So she waited until she spoke.

"Nat?" she whispered into the dark.

Nat rolled around and stared at the back of her head.

"Promise you won't tell anyone."

She breathed out for what felt like the first time in hours. Her arm stretched to touch something —Lottie's hair, her back, her shoulder. Nat wanted to reassure her somehow, but she never did. She pressed her arm against her own chest, containing it.

"I promise."

A few days flew by when they were themselves —no little fights, no awkwardness, no talking about dead dads or pill bottles. Nat still had questions, of course, but she knew they were the kind you simply don't ask.

On her last school morning at Lottie's house, Nat had first period free, so she didn't join Lottie on the ride there. She made the bed and readied her gear bag for soccer practice that afternoon.

She still had an hour to kill, and her legs dragged her into Lottie's bathroom. She opened the cabinet and grabbed the little orange bottle she had been picturing all week.

Loxipene.

Charlotte Matthews.

Her eyes ran across the label over and over until they couldn't anymore. She popped the cap off and swirled the capsules around. They were smaller than she thought they would be, colored white and blue.

She wondered what Lottie felt when she took one, or if she felt anything at all. Her grip kept getting tighter the more she speculated about them.

Nat dug inside and held one between her fingers, inspecting it. 

She thought it was ridiculous for something so tiny to stand between her and figuring out how Lottie's mind worked. Perhaps they’d look grand or frightening if she held a few inside her palm, but no. She simply resented those three little pills.

So she swallowed them.

At first, all she felt was worry. The normal kind. She had just gulped down a good amount of her friend's lifeline, after all. She returned the bottle exactly as she had found it and closed the cabinet. She held it for a bit, like she feared they might escape.

Then, the worry wasn't so normal. Her heart drummed in her ears, and Nat kept thinking: "This isn't okay. It's too fast. It's beating too fast." She was sure she'd have a heart attack and die.

The heaviness of her eyelids didn't help. Her body was numb. Perhaps she needed a distraction. She towed herself into the living room and sat down to watch some TV.

Seinfeld was on. Normally, Nat would've switched channels, but she couldn't think about doing it long enough to actually go through with it.

She spaced out for hours without realizing. Next time she checked the clock, it was noon.

"Fuck," she muttered. She had missed all her morning classes.

Her stomach growled. She wobbled to the kitchen. As she reached for the fridge door, her eyes traveled to the liquor cupboard. She knew it wasn't a good idea; she just wanted to get rid of the dark, heavy feeling in her chest, and that was the only way she knew how.

She necked a few swings from the first bottle she got her hands on, then went back up to Lottie's room.

Her head wasn't feeling any clearer. She poked around the bedroom for a while. She remembered she should leave for soccer, and then she forgot, and then she remembered again, but she never did anything about it.

The steps coming from downstairs took over her. She breathed faster with each accelerating heartbeat.

It was her dad, she was sure of it. He was in Lottie's basement. Nat heard him take one of the rifles on the wall. He cocked it. One step after another, he was getting closer. 

She couldn't feel the tears drowning her eyes, but they were there —leaking down her face, spilling mascara on her shirt.

Sick to her stomach, she ran outside as fast as she could. He was quick too, he would catch her. She didn't stop until she couldn't feel her feet. A scream ripped through her. Why couldn't she run anymore?

She fell, the side of her face against the grass. She clung to it. The air was cold in the way she liked. Cold like smoking a cigarette or chewing a piece of mint gum. And she couldn't hear him anymore, so she stayed there. Her breathing slowed. Her heart did as well.

The sun had set when Lottie shook her awake.

"Nat! What the fuck?" 

Her hand was damp and muddy. It strained her eyes to focus past it. Lottie had her Yellowjackets shorts on.

"Shit. We have practice." She sniffled against the dirt, trying to push herself up.

"You missed practice," Lottie told her. "I've been calling here for hours."

Nat's eyes flooded again. She couldn't control it. The leftovers of her terror haunted her.

Lottie put the back of her hand against her cheek. "Jesus, you're freezing."

"I'm sorry, Lot. I'm so sorry," she cried, though she wasn't sure what she was sorry about.

Maybe she was sorry for taking the pills. Maybe she was sorry for troubling Lottie. Or maybe because, for once, she understood her completely.

Nat crumpled. She folded in two and lay her head on Lottie's lap. Her arms held her own stomach. Her knees dug into her chest. She felt pathetically minuscule. 

Lottie's hand brushed her hair, but it might as well have been squeezing her to death.

Nat couldn't quite recall what happened over the following hours. All she knew was that she woke up in Lottie's bed with her nightshirt on and an arm around her stomach.

She turned her head as far as she could and watched Lottie from the corner of her eye, figuring she was asleep.

"Feel better?" Lottie asked in her half-awake voice.

Nat faced the wall. "Yeah."

Lottie's fingers twitched slightly over Nat's clothes. She could feel them; she could think clearly. Nat felt like herself again, even if the memory of the day weighed her down.

"Good."

She wasn’t going to ask any more questions; Nat was aware of that. Whether Lottie knew about the pills and the alcohol or didn’t know anything at all, it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t talk about it.

Lottie slipped off of her. The cold set where her hand didn't touch, and Nat missed it. She caught her wrist.

"Don't," she asked, though it sounded more like a demand.

The girl startled. She didn't move until Nat tugged her hand back into place —and then further, until Lottie had to mold into her back.

She gathered her hair on the side so Lottie could tuck her head between her neck and her shoulder. Her nose grazed Nat’s ear. Her lips moved against her skin as she spoke.

"Okay," she whispered.

Nat could feel her on every inch of her body. She cursed them for being so volatile, Lottie and her. Why couldn't they have just been this way every other night? It made her forget how shitty her world had gotten. At least for a minute.

"When do your parents get back?"

Lottie sighed. The warmth reached Nat's jaw. "Tomorrow."

Nat sighed with her. "Shit."

And she laced their fingers.

Chapter Text

Hey Blue, all your love is strange.

Nat's leg bounced on the floor. She was sitting with her elbows on her knees and her headphones on. "Blue" blasted into her ears.

Girls walked, ran, and hopped past her. She didn't pay any mind to them. Her eyes were busy on a cracked tile next to a column.

So true

When you lie

That day wasn't going great. Her mom wasn't buying groceries, or showering, or even eating anymore. So, on top of school and soccer, Nat was taking care of a forty-year-old child.

Besides, she hadn't had a drop of alcohol since November, which was —ironically— messing with her head. 

For you, Blue

And maybe it would've all been just a tiny bit better had Lottie bothered to say hello before fleeing to Camila's locker.

Hey Blue, where'd you run to now?

It was fine; Lottie was falling in love, or whatever. A bit of shutting her friends off was supposed to happen. Nat just wished it would've taken longer, or that it had been softer. Lottie could've scraped their rope over time instead of lowering an axe to it.

Hey Blue, miss you since they found you out

Of course, Coach Ben chose that day to have varsity and JV do drills together. They were told to pair up. Lottie was already by Camila's side, so that was that. Nat watched the ground, waiting for the others to get together. She would go to whoever was left.

After a minute, her eyes combed the scene and —much to her dismay— locked with Jackie's.

"Hey," Jackie smiled. Nat graced her with a cross-armed, tight-lipped head nod. "You wanna…?"

"Whatever." They walked together to grab a ball from Misty. "Shouldn't you be doing this with Shauna?"

Nat searched for her. She was a few feet away from them, passing the ball to Mari. Jackie and her caught each other, but Shauna looked away. Her pouty lips would've sparked Nat's empathy had they not been hanging from Jackie's face.

"Shouldn't you be with Lottie?" 

Nat scoffed but still looked for her. She was about to dribble past Camila when the girl wrapped an arm around her stomach and lifted her, spinning around. They laughed —Nat didn't think that was funny, and it was definitely cheating.

"They're like best friends now, huh?" Jackie said.

She had to hold back the snarky response. "Yes, Jackie, that's exactly what they are. Two really close friends." Nat didn't need to say it out loud. It was fun enough inside her head.

They got through the exercises almost silently. It was so close to being over when Jackie made the mistake of trying to be friendly again, asking if Nat would be attending some party. 

"Lottie's coming," Jackie pointed out, glancing at her with those eyes that made it impossible for her to be subtle.

Nat kicked the ball back to her. "What am I? Her lap dog? Fuck's sake…"

"Jeez. Okay." Jackie struggled to catch the ball inside her square. "Well, everybody else is coming."

The whistle blew, and Van took the opportunity to meddle. For once, Nat was thankful for it.

"Coming to what?" she asked Jackie.

"Kim's."

" You're coming to Kim's?" Taissa was astounded, widened eyes on Nat's.

Van was too, but she was more cheerful about it. "No way!"

"Why is that so shocking?"

Tai shrugged. "I mean, you never go out with us."

Nat tried to recall a time when she hadn't chosen Rick and Colin over the team, yet found she couldn't. It was unfair, she thought. The girls weren't that bad.

"But it's great that you are!" Van threw an arm around Nat's shoulders.

Tai chuckled. "Yeah, it is, actually." And she copied Van. 

As she tried to get them to stop ruffling her hair, she saw Jackie watching them with a smile. An honest one, unlike the tight-lipped bullshit they usually saved for each other.

Oddly, Jackie Taylor didn't feel like Public Enemy Number One to her anymore.

Maybe Public Enemy Number Three, or Four.

***

Laura Lee was the first one Nat ran into that night. "You're here!" she cheered and hugged her. 

Nat sort of hugged her back and laughed. Had she not known Laura Lee, she would've thought she was drunk.

She led her into the house, across a few rooms and tons of people, until she found Mari and her crew.

Mari greeted her and asked if she wanted beer.

"Uh, sure," Nat shrugged. She wasn't about to explain to Mari that she was trying to stay sober after almost overdosing on Lottie's meds. She could just hold the cup.

With a hand on the pocket of her leather jacket and another bearing forbidden fruit, Nat sat on the couch and wondered why she had agreed to go to that party. And who even was Kim?

"Nat! Come on!"

Van grabbed her hands —Nat had to leave the cup on the coffee table before it got knocked over— and pulled her up. Taissa was right behind her. 

"I love this song!" she shouted over all the noise.

"Who Am I" ripped through the next room, where Nat was promptly pushed to.

They danced, all three of them. Nat was better at that than pretending she could stand Mari giggling each time the guy sitting next to her cracked a bad joke.

Jackie and Shauna bumped into them. Nat was ready to wave hello and move on, but Jackie hugged all three of them tightly, and Shauna followed.

Having them join the group didn't alter much. They mostly danced with each other.

Nat felt like some sort of fifth wheel in there. Jackie and Shauna were a unit again. Tai and Van had always been. And Nat didn’t mind being alone all that much, but then, in the centerfold, she was lonely.

Immediately, Lottie took up her mind. That was who Nat was missing. She was the closest thing Nat had to her "other half", even if it wasn't as sure a deal as Jackie and Shauna's or Tai and Van's.

"Have you seen Lottie?" Nat asked Van. She shook her head. "Okay. I'm gonna go get another cup."

Except she wasn't. She wiggled out of the bunch and looked around for her. 

Mari was still sitting with her group. Nat asked her about Lottie; Mari asked the guy with the bad sense of humor —Danny, apparently— and he shrugged, pretty dazed.

"No idea, sorry," Mari told her.

"Great." She scanned the room. "Where's Laura Lee?"

"Maybe they're together. Want me to come help you look?" 

Nat was leaving already. "That's okay."

She made her way through —what felt like— a thousand other rooms, somehow going around in a circle and ending up right back where she’d started.

"Dude!" Van called, holding up a ping-pong ball. "Wanna play?"

The game was supposed to be Tai, Van, and Nat against Jackie, Shauna, and Jeff. Supposed to be, because as Jeff seized Jackie by the waist and pulled her in for a kiss, Shauna snuck over to the other side of the table.

"Switch with me?" she asked Nat.

"Sure."

Nat didn't mind. Besides, she got the feeling playing against Van would be fun.

Three cups down, Nat was on a streak. Van, Tai, and Shauna had one drink each. Jackie had to gulp down both the cups their team lost —though Nat was pretty sure she gave one of them to Jeff.

"Alright, come on, Shipman," Jackie smiled.

Naturally, Jackie and Shauna's turns were back to back.

Shauna shot first but missed. "Damn it!"

Jackie readied the ball, one eye shut and her tongue stuck out. It went straight into the cup.

"Yes!" Jackie lifted both arms above her head, victoriously. Shauna sighed. "Drink up, loser!"

And she did.

Nat patted Jackie on the back, walking up to the table. Taissa made a show of stretching her limbs like they were warming up for a match. 

"All that and your aim is still shit," Nat teased.

Tai scoffed. "Okay, you're going down."

Nat did, in fact, go down, because Taissa scored and made a huge deal about it.

Hesitantly, Nat grabbed the cup. She was trying to figure out how to toss the beer aside without anyone noticing when she saw Laura Lee across the room.

"Shit, guys, I gotta go."

She was collectively booed. 

"But we're not done yet!" Jeff complained.

Van backed him up. "Yeah, c'mon, it's your turn!"

Nat whipped around, grabbed a ball, and shot it. Van grunted as it made it into the cup. Flipping Tai off, Nat walked away.

She ran up to Laura Lee and grabbed her arm. "Hey! Is Lottie with you?"

"Uhm, no. I haven't seen her. Why? Did something happen?"

"No, it's fine." Nat took notice of the cup, idle in her hands. "Do you want this?" she asked her. Laura Lee stared at her. "Right. No. Of course you don't."

"We could look for her if you want."

Nat shook her head. "The girls are playing beer pong and need a sixth if you wanna join."

She pointed to the table; Laura Lee skipped over there happily. Nat thought she'd have to reassure her that they wouldn't make her drink any alcohol, but Laura Lee didn't even ask. Then again, she had probably been to way more house parties than Nat had, —which was also confusing.

Nat wasn't sure what else to do, so she strolled around the house.

Mari was on the stairs, making out with that guy, Danny, so the second floor wasn't an option.

She saw someone puking their guts out in the sink, the boys' baseball team pushing a guy into the pool, a girl tripping on a wire and breaking a lamp.

Then, in a small circle of broody, artsy people, was Kevyn. Their eyes locked and Nat waved over to him. He looked at her for a second too long, mouth falling open, and sort of waved back.

Nat chose to scram before he walked up to her. It's not that they weren't friends anymore, they just hadn't hung out in months, and she didn't feel like talking to him. Besides, his insufferable girlfriend was perched on his side.

In the living room, Jackie was dancing with Jeff. He pulled their hips into each other, kissed her neck. Jackie tried to push him off, but he didn’t seem to notice —or care.

Nat made a beeline toward them and yanked her back by her arm. "I— uh…need your help with something." 

"Anything," Jackie said.

That was enough for Nat. She grabbed her hand and they submerged into the crowd, losing Jeff somewhere along the way.

She took her out onto the patio. Jackie let go of her to fix her hair. Nat watched her pull her skirt down, trying to come up with something to say to her.

"What—"

"Jacks!" Shauna cheered.

She jumped Jackie with a hug, answered by a soft, "Hi."

Jackie held her close, saying something into her ear. They stepped away, and Shauna intertwined her free hand with Jackie's.

Nat figured Shauna could handle it from then on. After all, Nat wasn't even Jackie's friend. 

As she was leaving, Jackie called her name. "Thank you," she mouthed.

Nat nodded, and they parted ways.

She found Tai, Van, Mari, and Laura Lee sitting near the pool, watching the baseball team's inner hazing like it was a TV show.

"You still looking?" Mari asked her.

Tai frowned, her eyes still on the boys. "Looking for what?"

The reply came in unison. "Lottie."

"Right. Do we even know if she's here?"

They all looked around, gazes searching for an answer in the others.

"I think I saw her walk in, but I'm not sure," Mari said.

Nat sighed. Had she been hunting Lottie down when she wasn't even there? She never got to ask her if she was coming. Jackie could've lied. She didn't know why Jackie would lie about it, but she could've.

Some type of cold washed over her. It took her a second to figure the scene out. A guy from the fucking hazing crew got knocked down, his cup with him, and bathed Nat's face in cheap beer.

"Asshole!" she thundered, chucking her own cup at him. Finally, it had come in handy.

Wiping beer off his eyes, he shouted, "Bitch!"

But Nat was already stomping her way back inside. She shook off as much as she could. This time, she didn't care who the fuck was making out on the stairs.

"Find a better fucking place!" she demanded as she kicked past them.

The liquid was setting, sticking to her skin and making her hair stiff. What was worse: her eyeliner was probably running, and it was a pain to clean off.

A hand wrapped around her arm, locking her mid-hallway. 

"Nat, hi," Kevyn's voice panted.

"Ah, hey." She wondered where he had even come from, then she realized, "Shit, was that you on the stairs?"

"Yeah, but it's fine," he smiled, sort of awkward.

Nat clasped her hands in front of her mouth, hiding her laughter. "Sorry."

"No, you were right."

They chuckled. His hands were inside his pockets, and he leaned toward her.

"So, how you been?" he asked.

Nat really wanted to get that beer out of her hair. "I'm not really up for small talk right now."

She tried to leave, but he grabbed her hand and stepped close —closer than normal. "Okay, okay. Sorry, just— you being here sort of caught me by surprise, and…Look, I wanted to talk to you, 'cause—"

"Oh, don't," Nat stopped him.

She knew the whole routine. His head low, the smile creeping onto his face, the shy steps toward her. That was a lame, drunken love confession.

"You have a fucking girlfriend," she hissed at him.

"Yeah, but—"

"No but!" Nat yanked her hand away like he was infected. 

"Then what's this about?!" he hissed back, a finger pointing between them. He got even closer, too.

" This?! " She mocked his finger thing. "There's no this !"

Just then, a handle clicked to her right.

Some girl emerged from the room a few feet away from them. The light wasn't on at the end of the corridor, but Nat saw the messy brown waves, tall socks, short skirt, and she knew.

Lottie Matthews, in the flesh. Nat was relieved, almost smiling. Then another girl stumbled out of the room behind her, holding Lottie's jean jacket over her shoulder, and she wasn't so relieved anymore.

She didn't think Kevyn had seen them yet, so she grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him in.

Nat kissed him like she would a toilet seat on a dare —hesitantly and with her eyes pressed shut. His lips were too wet and his hands too rough on her back.

Lucky for her, he got jerked back by his girlfriend soon enough.

"You fucking whore! What the fuck are you doing with my boyfriend?!"

The girl gripped his arm like a leash, and Nat couldn't help but chuckle.

"You're laughing, huh, slut?!"

Lottie tugged Nat backward by her jacket, stepping into her place. "Watch it," she warned —which Nat also thought was funny; to her, Lottie was as threatening as a fly.

Except she couldn't laugh. There, under the light, you could see her so clearly. Her lipgloss was smeared all around her mouth, her hair tangled, her clothes rumpled.

She had to get her out of there.

Lottie opened her mouth to retaliate to whatever the other girl had screamed. "Leave it!" Nat tried to stop her, dragging her away by her hand.

"It's not her fault you can't get your boyfriend to get it up!" Lottie shouted anyway.

Nat pushed her into the bathroom and locked the door behind them. "Jesus! Chill out!" she scolded her.

There was a loud bang on the door, then angry steps and bickering voices faded into the distance.

Lottie's face was red, on top of everything, and the vein on her forehead looked close to popping. "What the fuck are you doing making out with a guy with a girlfriend?!" she whisper-yelled.

Nat was taken aback. "What happened to 'It's not her fault' ?"

Another knock on the door got Nat to whip her head around. Then, Camila's voice.

"Uh, Tee? Everything okay?"

Nat frowned, mouthing at Lottie, " Tee ?"

It was a stupid fucking nickname.

Lottie rolled her eyes. "Shut up," she mouthed back.

She was going to walk past Nat, her hand already aiming for the knob, when Nat put hers on her stomach.

"She's fine," she told Camila. "She'll be a while, though."

It felt good to finally shut out the girl that had been hoarding Lottie for so long.

Lottie looked like she wanted to complain, but Nat wiped her smirk and raised her eyebrows severely, so she didn't. She sighed, "Don't worry. Go, have fun, I'll be there in a minute."

It took Camila a long second to reply. "Yeah…okay."

And her steps faded as well.

Nat pushed herself up on the countertop, legs hanging, hands gripping its edge. 

Lottie watched her expectantly. "Well?"

Nat shrugged, playing clueless. "Well what?"

"Why were you just making out with that random guy?"

"He's not a random guy. That's Kevyn."

Lottie got an insane look in her eyes. "Okay, whatever— Why were you making out with Kevyn? "

"Well, you found your high school sweetheart and all. I just thought, when's it gonna be my turn?"

"Alright, you're fucking with me. I'm leaving."

"No, wait," Nat laughed, once again stopping her hand from grabbing the doorknob. She held both that time, pulling Lottie —and her annoyed demeanor— toward her. "There's a very good reason we're gathered here today."

She tilted aside so Lottie could see herself in the mirror. Her expression dropped, then scrunched in embarrassment. "Shit."

"Yeah, shit."

Nat wet a towel and handed it to her.

"You've looked better yourself," Lottie said as she wiped her lips.

"I know."

She turned the tap on, tried to wash as much beer as she could off her hair.

"It still doesn't explain why you kissed Kevyn-with-the-crazy-girlfriend."

Nat struggled to talk while bent over the sink. "He would've seen you if I hadn't." She straightened up. "You need to work on your 'keeping my girlfriend a secret' skills, by the way."

"She's not my girlfriend," Lottie argued. "And you need to work on your coverup skills. You didn't have to blow up Kevyn's relationship."

"He did that himself."

Lottie watched her with a disbelieving frown, running her hands through her hair. "How?"

"He came onto me first. I had to remind him he had a girlfriend."

"Wow." Lottie bobbed her head. Nat and her moral high ground swung their legs. "Is that why you said no? Because he has a girlfriend?"

Lottie kept her head low as she wet the other side of the towel. Nat ran her tongue over her teeth. "Are you asking if I'm into him?" 

She sort of shrugged, didn't say anything. Then she grabbed Nat's jaw between her pointer, her index, and her thumb; she turned her head further to the right, rubbing the black off the side of her face.

"I'm not," Nat told her. "I used to be, when we were, like, fourteen." The memory still managed to knot her stomach. "Doesn't matter now."

Lottie held her so she'd face her, just for a second, inspecting her. Then she switched to the other side. "Close your eyes."

Nat did. They were quiet for a bit, listening to the music booming downstairs.

"I didn't know you were coming to this," Lottie spoke.

"You didn't ask." She tried to voice that without resentment. "Jackie invited me."

"Since when do you talk to Jackie?"

"Since my best friend ditched me for an older woman."

Nat cracked one eye open, biting back a smile. It was hard to be pissed at Lottie

"Closed," Lottie reminded her. "I didn't ditch you."

"No, right, we just haven't hung out in weeks 'cause you always have plans with your girlfriend." The towel moved to her cheeks, so she peered at Lottie. "Sounds like ditching to me."

She finally put the stupid cloth down and a hand on Nat's thigh. "Sorry," she said, leaning closer. "But if we win next week and leave for regionals, I'll be all yours for three whole days."

Lottie smiled like she was pleading with her, brow arched down. Nat shook her head; she couldn't help but give in. "Better fucking win, then."

They smiled, and they stared in that way only they knew how —shameless gazes that would travel wherever they pleased as their faces fell blank; breaths would hollow as the skin under their nails itched.

Nat's eyes followed the stripes on Lottie's long-sleeve, then outlined each of the squares on her checkered skirt. One of her sneakers was untied. Her knee was scraped —she remembered her stumbling during practice. Nat wanted to touch it, make it better somehow.

Lottie's finger twitched on Nat's thigh. She hadn't noticed her hand was still there. It was probably unintentional, Nat figured. Her nails were painted a pretty lavender, and she had a starred bracelet around her wrist.

She trailed her gaze back up her arm, her neck, then to her untangled hair and perfectly glossed lips.

Of course she fucking wondered if Lottie had done something more than make out with Camila, but she wouldn't ask. They weren't like that. They didn't talk about that shit.

Lottie's brown was already on her when Nat looked her in the eye. It couldn't have been longer than a second —still, Nat felt she had been studying Lottie for years, admiring these scattered puzzle pieces, holding her breath in hopes that they would make sense. 

Nat didn't tell her hands to play with Lottie's bracelet, or fix a strand of hair that hung apart from the rest. They just did. 

She didn't need to wipe the corner of Lottie's lips with her thumb, but she did.

And Lottie didn't have to say, "Camila's waiting," like she wanted Nat to beg her to stay. But she did.

Or maybe Nat just thought she did.

She let her hands fall limp on her sides, where they belonged, resting her back on the bathroom mirror.

"You should go, then."

Lottie had to gather herself before she could walk out the door. They didn't say anything else.

Nat ran her hands down her face, stretching her skin along the way, as far as it would go.

She wanted cold air. She needed cold air.

She pulled her headphones on and pressed play on her Discman.

For you, Blue

Right or wrong

She floated downstairs and out of that house. The midnight dew spilled on her combat boots. Her breath turned into fog.

She walked all the way back home, kicking newspaper pages and empty cans along the way.

I belong

Right or wrong

***

The team won their last local game. 

They had four minutes on the clock. Shauna got the ball across the pitch. Tai kicked over to Laura Lee. Lottie assisted, Nat scored.

She was so happy she would have hugged her tight enough to pop her lungs.

The ball had just shaken the net. There was a whistle and screaming. Time slowed. But as she turned to find her, to find Lottie, she couldn't.

Lottie ran straight to the sidelines, where Camila stood. She jumped, wrapped her arms and legs around her. It was her she loved strongly enough to knock her to the ground. It wasn't Nat, it was her.

That was how she found out, the moment she knew. She had been loved —truly, intensely.

How come she felt such loss? She wasn't supposed to. They had won.

The girls swarmed around her. Van got on her back; Laura Lee kissed her head. Jackie, and Shauna, and Tai, Mari —everybody piled on top of Nat, so many of them she couldn't breathe.

She laughed until her eyes were red and teary. She let them suffocate her, because maybe that was just what love was.

***

Where we run to, is up to you

Just stay with me, for a while

Chapter Text

Nat sat alone on the bus to New Brunswick.

She picked out a spot near the back, tossed her bag on the floor, and slipped her headphones on. That way she'd blend in with the girls —in their rightful rear seats, since they were the oldest— but be far enough that both JV and sophomores knew to leave her and her Loveless CD alone.

She put her back against the window and her shoes on the seat next to hers, just in case someone got any bright ideas. It wasn't like anybody had to sit with her. There was enough space for three times the girls on that bus.

It was significantly nicer than any other old school bus. Cushioned seats, curtains, night lights. Lottie's dad had put some money in for a little upgrade, as usual. Nat wasn't at all mad about it. 

A voice snaked its way past "Only Shallow".

"Move it," she was told.

Speak of the devil.

Lottie had her hands wrapped around the straps of her light pink backpack, waiting on Nat to do…something.

She stretched her headphones away from her ears. "What?" she asked drowsily. It was too early for Lottie to glare at her.

The girl pushed her legs down and took the forcefully emptied seat. Of course, if anybody was going to get that bright idea, it was gonna be her.

Nat groaned. "Lot, it's seven in the morning."

She was rummaging through her backpack, dark waves spilled all over. "So?"

"I don't do a whole lotta talking at seven in the morning."

"Fine by me."

Lottie plugged her headphones into her Discman, then did the same with Nat's —who acted like she wasn't impressed by the thing.

"The fuck are you doing?"

She looked at her, all calm and collected like she was. "Not talking."

Then she pressed play on a Cardigans CD.

Lottie closed her eyes, leaned her head back. Whatever sun the cold morning had to offer bathed her and only her. No other girl looked like Lottie did under the sunlight.

Nat tried to conjure up some annoyance, maybe a muttered insult. She couldn't.

So she pulled her knees against her chest and put up with The Cardigans. Then Lisa Loeb. Then The Cranberries.

She looked out the window for a while. Lottie's taste may not have been Nat's, but it sure was good road trip music. 

Smoke emerged from somewhere inside those woods, far in the distance. It was beautiful in a way. Nat couldn't explain how; she couldn't ever put into words why she liked the things she did. It could be annoying sometimes, made her feel stupid.

At some point she turned to watch her, she couldn't know when. She stared at Lottie like she was wildfire.

Lottie noticed her watching. Lottie always noticed. 

She mouthed the words to the song, acting them out a bit.

I'm sure I'm not being rude

But it's just your attitude

It's tearing me apart

It's ruining every day

Lottie put her hand over her heart, clawing her chest like it hurt. Nat laughed, mouthed some of the lyrics with her. 

(Yeah, so she knew the song. Whatever.)

So why were you holding her hand?

Is that the way we stand?

Were you lying all the time?

Was it just a game to you?

Lottie held her fist up as a microphone. Nat leaned closer.

But I'm in so deep

You know I'm such a fool for you

The corners of her eyes pinched with a smile —the contagious kind that spread onto Nat. 

You got me wrapped around your finger

Do you have to let it linger?

Lottie's bangs brushed Nat's nose as she bent forward. She was laughing, her forehead on the crook of Nat's neck.

Nat could barely see her, but she knew she was a mess, all that thick hair everywhere. So she gathered it in her hands, pulled it away from her face.

She pressed her cheek against her head, sort of keeping her in place. Nat liked feeling her breath on her chest. Digging her hands in her hair. Holding her.

She missed them being close —their own kind of strange, unspoken close.

But Lottie didn't. She straightened up and took her headphones off, wobbling to the back of the bus.

Nat just stared at the empty space in front of her for a minute. She had to shake herself back into that bus.

"Nat! Get your ass over here!" Van called.

She tried to ignore her, but then…

"Natalie!"

"Hey, emo kid!"

"C'mon, loser!"

"Nat!"

"Don't be a buzzkill!"

"Natalieeee!"

She kneeled on her seat, faced the back with gritting teeth. "What?!"

All the girls —Misty, even— were gathered in a sort of circle, smiling at her.

"Come play with us!" Jackie asked.

Nat sighed and set the headphones aside. "What are we playing?"

"Truth or Dare!"

Well, shit.

She stumbled her way there, walking past Lottie's spot. She slumped into one of the back seats, next to Van.

Lottie caught each of her glances, so Nat made a rule that she would avoid looking in her direction altogether.

Jackie drummed her fingers, scheming. "Alright…Mari! Truth or dare?"

***

They stopped in some middle-of-fucking-nowhere cafe to eat. 

Jackie hadn't made any bitchy moves during the game, so Nat was actually in a good mood. She was cracking up with Van over Tai's dare —she'd flashed some old dudes the bus drove past— which the girl didn't appreciate. She tailed them, arms crossed.

Van was fully wheezing. "Did you— see— the one with the ice cream—"

"He dropped the fucking ice cream!" Nat cackled.

"Oh my god," Tai muttered, annoyed. To be fair, it was probably the tenth time they said that.

Nat turned to her. "That was fucking metal, dude."

It got Tai to smile, at least.

Nat's eyes got lost behind the girl. Lottie walked alongside Jackie and Shauna. Nat tried to turn away before Lottie could see her, but that goddamn sixth sense of hers worked like a charm.

Uncalled, she sat at Nat's table. Tai and Van were headed over —given Lottie's pointed look, they pivoted elsewhere.

Nat watched her unwrap her food, confused.

"You think there's any clubs near the motel?" she asked, taking a big bite off her sandwich.

She dug into the pocket of the jeans, then slid her palm flat on the table.

"Put your hand over mine," she said quietly.

"What? No."

"Just do it."

In a huff, Nat did, and Lottie pulled back. There was something cold under her fingers. She slipped it onto her lap, scanned it while pretending to cut her steak.

When she looked back up, it was with excitement bubbling in her blood. "Fake IDs?!" she whispered —or meant to.

Lottie chuckled. "Love me or what?"

"You're the fucking bomb." Nat kept looking at that plastic rectangle like it was made out of gold. "I could fucking kiss you right now."

It shot right out of her mouth, she couldn't hold it. She didn't mean to make it weird. She didn't want Lottie to get awkward, try to hide her face flushing red.

Lottie didn't, though.

"Shut up," she giggled. Friendly. Comfortable. Normal.

A little too normal.

Nat's chest did this weird, stinging shit. She gulped Lottie's water down.

"You okay?" Lottie frowned.

Nat cleared her throat, blurting, "Yeah. Fine."

"...Okay."

***

They handed out the rest of the IDs once they were back on the bus. Jackie, Shauna, Tai, Van, Mari, and Laura Lee —they all got one.

"Isn't this, like…illegal?" Jackie asked.

Shauna elbowed her, brow raised. They hissed back and forth for a second, then Jackie sighed and Shauna turned to Lottie with a smile. "So, where are we going?"

"The motel's three blocks away from George Street. We'll find something there," Nat said, reading over her ID. "Listen, you gotta learn all this shit. They might ask." She pointed to Laura Lee, then Van. "Especially you two."

"Why me?" Van frowned.

"'Cause you look fucking twelve."

Van laughed, punched her arm. "Fuck you."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Who the fuck is Mary James ?" Mari asked.

"Well, you can't put your real name on there, 'cause it's—"

"Illegal," Jackie finished for her. Shauna elbowed her again.

Nat was getting tired of her attitude. "You can always stay in the motel."

"No. She doesn't want that." Shauna narrowed her eyes at Jackie. "Right, Jacks?"

They had this weird, wordless argument, which Shauna seemed to win. "I don't. Sorry," Jackie mumbled, crossing her arms like a stubborn kid.

Nat smiled tightly at her. Lottie continued.

"Anyway…Yeah, pretty much illegal. I switched them up a bit, just in case."

Her bitter smile turned sweet. Lottie was such a big sister to everyone. Always so attentive yet still fun. Nat couldn't do that. Sure, she cared about the girls, but she was shit at showing it.

She wondered how she did it. Nat never had anybody care for her, so how should she know? Then again, Lottie didn't either. It came naturally to her.

Lottie smiled back, winked at her. 

"Alright. I think I got it." Van handed her ID to Nat, snapping her back. "Quiz me."

"Uh, what's your name?"

"Veronica Hawks."

Laura Lee sighed. "That's such a pretty name, Van."

"Thanks. What's yours?" 

She voiced it cluelessly. "Laurel Bush."

"Laurel Bush?!"

Van laughed loudly enough for the sophomores to turn and stare. Nat shushed her.

"Come on. What's your birthday?" she asked quietly, roping her back.

"September twenty-five. I'm a Libra," Van smiled all proud. Nat had no idea why. "What's your sign? Like, the real one."

"Fuck do I know?" Nat shrugged. The whole astrology thing was such bullshit.

"She's an Aries," Lottie pitched in from the other row.

Van clicked her tongue. "Of course you are."

***

The rooms were assigned by alphabetical order, so the list went something like this:

Lee, Matthews; Palmer, Quigley; Scatorccio, Shipman; Taylor, Turner; Trejo, a sophomore they didn't really know.

Nat and Jackie's eyes locked instantly. They didn't say a word to each other, just exchanged keys.

Lottie wouldn't dump Laura Lee like that, she was too nice. For Nat to switch with Van, Tai convinced Laura Lee that Misty was looking to convert. So, once they were done, the pairings looked something like this:

Laura Lee, Misty; Tai, Van; Jackie, Shauna; Nat, Lottie; Mari, still that sophomore.

Lottie walked in and stood under the doorframe, watching Nat as she sat up on the bed.

"Where's Laura Lee?" she asked, forehead creased.

"What's that you said?" Nat crossed her legs, pretended she couldn't remember. " All yours for three whole days ?"

Lottie chuckled, closing the door behind her. She stretched a hand out to Nat. "Get up, we gotta get ready. We're meeting the others out back in an hour."

And she peeled Nat off the bed.

She threw on the usual night-out stuff. The plaid skirt was red, so the tank top had to be as well; tights, combat boots, and her leather jacket. 

Lottie wore a strapless checkered bodycon with an oversized jean jacket. Nat stared at her while she put her golden hoops on. The girl looked like a goddamn rich, stylish college student from New York or some other big city of sorts.

"What?" Lottie asked, glancing at Nat through the mirror. 

"Nothing." She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to keep her mouth shut. It didn't work. "Just…how's your girlfriend feel about you being away? Like, going out and shit."

Lottie looked down, unzipped her makeup bag. "Fine," she got out.

Nat pushed herself off the wall and stood by her in front of the mirror. "You didn't tell her huh?"

"...No."

She sucked air in through her teeth, smirk on her face. "Shit."

"Whatever."

Lottie sounded pissed —the kind that stemmed from someone other than Nat, so she probed. "What? You two fighting or something?"

"No."

"Right." Nat burned her gaze on the side of her face. "But she wouldn't like it."

Lottie kept powdering her cheeks, not a word.

"Yeah, I got that feeling," Nat told her.

She was halfway through her eyeliner when Lottie decided to retaliate —somewhat. "I know you don't like her," she said.

Nat quirked a brow. "Does she like me?"

They knew the answer. The uneasy glances and dry responses between them were hard to ignore. Lottie didn't have to say it.

She turned the radio on, let cheesy pop songs fill the room. Nat followed her through the mirror. Lottie put her fake ID and red lipstick in her pocket, then opened her wallet. She asked Nat, "Hey, you got contraband, right?"

Nat hadn't told her about the whole sobriety thing, but it didn’t matter then. She didn’t think she could keep up with it much longer. "We'll buy some on the way."

Lottie put some money in there as well.

Fifteen minutes later, they were running out amongst giggles. Spring neared, the nights were getting warmer, and that was a particularly nice one. Lottie let her jacket fall off her shoulders. Tai and Van were next door; they followed them.

Lottie's hand clasped over Nat's mouth as they sneaked past the pool. Coach Scott and Coach Martinez were there, sharing a beer.

Jackie and Shauna were the last ones to walk out, bending over with laughter, hands laced.

"Guys, we have a place," Jackie smiled.

Turns out Shauna had charmed some older guys into telling them where they were headed for the night, which Nat thought was a pretty sweet move.

They were about six blocks away. Lottie was walking ahead, jacket halfway down her open back, bending with her waist. She had picked some of her hair up; two twists pinned above her ears.

Nat missed her ever since that morning on the bus. It didn't make much sense —they'd been attached at the hip all day. But the itch under her nails was spreading to her wrists, her elbows. She couldn't take it.

She grabbed her by her jacket and pulled her aside. Lottie stumbled into her, had to put her hands against the wall behind Nat so she wouldn't fall.

"What the fuck?" Lottie chuckled, fixing up her dress —it was tight, kept riding up when she moved.

Nat figured it wasn't necessary. It showed off her legs, which looked fucking great in those heels.

She didn't know she was gonna say it until she did.

"You got any lipstick? I forgot mine," Nat lied.

Lottie smiled, shook her head slightly. "You could've just said that."

She dug it out of her pocket and gave it to her. Nat took it, realizing that was a mistake as soon as Lottie began to walk away.

"Wait," she said, a hand clawing her dress. 

She jerked her back harder than she had meant to.

"Jesus!" Lottie gasped, once again close to tipping over. It had to be difficult getting shoved around in heels. "What?"

Her eyes widened, confused. Nat realized she was acting strange —she just couldn't stop herself.

"You see a damn mirror around?"

Lottie was half-smiling when she signaled the others to keep walking. The girls turned the corner; their voices got lost quickly.

Nat rested her back against the wall, the hand on Lottie's waist luring her in.

She rolled the crimson out and balanced herself —she'd had a bit to drink, Nat had seen her share a bottle with Shauna.

"You okay?"

Her fingers held Nat's chin up. "Sh. Can't do it if you talk." 

Nat chuckled.

"Or laugh."

She cleared her throat and let her lips part, offering them up.

Lottie leaned close. Her leg was between Nat's, and her gaze was a little lost.

The brick wall drilled into the back of her head, but she didn't mind. She could barely make her out from that distance. Her hand got comfortable on Lottie's waist —it gripped more than held, like she wanted something out of it.

She saw it in Lottie's eyes, the moment she felt Nat's palms both slide down to her hips and coax them into hers. She saw her shake it off, like the scene wasn't unusual. So Nat kept going until she could feel Lottie's weight on her.

It sparked that thing , the one Lottie had buried deep inside her chest. The one that made her neck hot when they were close. The reason why she flushed from her chest to her forehead, and stuttered, and kissed Nat in locker rooms.

Nat got to know it then. It had spread onto her. Not right at that moment —maybe earlier that day, maybe weeks, or months ago. Maybe she'd swallowed it with the pills.

But she had it. Lottie looked for it inside Nat's eyes; she wondered whether or not it was real, then doubted her own answers.

Nat was happy when she messed up. She smiled as Lottie set the stick aside and hesitantly ran her thumb under Nat's lip to fix it.

She enjoyed the tremble in Lottie's voice as she spoke. "You're drunk."

Nat laughed, because, on the way there, they'd stopped by a liquor store, and she had grabbed the cheapest bottle of gin she could find.

She nodded so Lottie could laugh about it. So she could chalk it all up to fucked-up Nat being just that. So she could bury the spark again, and the brown in her eyes could be dirt instead of a forest fire.

It was better that way.

"Thanks," Nat whispered before Lottie stepped away and reset the clock.

As Nat watched her walk off, it would start all over again.

Something was burning.

Chapter Text

They had to go down a set of stairs to get to the club's entrance, which really set the true crime scene for the night. 

"If we get kidnapped and/or murdered, I'm gonna be so pissed at you," Van told Shauna as they stepped through an obscure corridor.

"I second that." Tai walked ahead, wary, eyes on the curtains at the end of their path.

Nat felt her cheeks tighten, her stomach loosened with excitement. "C'mon, live a goddamn little."

She was used to shady places, and that one was no exception. The creepy aspect usually made them more fun. Her hand grabbed Lottie's wrist, rushed her past the others.

"Nat, wait!" she tried to warn her, but they were already on the other side.

The place was bigger than she expected it to be. To their left was a dancing area with a few poles, a small stage, even some sort of clear cage, and the DJ booth. Straight ahead was the bar. Nat could also see a VIP entrance. The area to their right had fur couches, a few small tables —it was kind of dark in there, Nat couldn't see the end of it.

She felt Lottie's arm catch up to her, breaking free from her hold. 

"Shit," Nat chuckled. The music rang through her. 

"Holy fuck, is this place actually cool?" Van gasped loudly.

"Told you," Shauna shrugged.

"Alright, listen up." Tai got them to huddle up. "We meet back here at three sharp."

"Yes. No one leaves by herself, okay?" Lottie said, more sweet than Coach-ish.

"And definitely don't accept drinks from strangers," Nat pitched in. 

They all agreed and dove in. Shauna and Jackie headed straight for the dance floor, strung Mari and Laura Lee along. Tai and Van weren't drunk enough, so they ordered something at the bar. Lottie and Nat stood shoulder to shoulder, flickering lights leaving their eyes half-open.

Lottie was fixed on a spot ahead. Curious, Nat followed her gaze. There, against a column, were two girls making out. Their hands moved fast and their hair got tangled. One of the colored reflectors hit them straight on. They were all out to see, and nobody cared. It was a rare but pretty sight. 

Nat smiled, and she knew Lottie did too.

"God, I love the city," she sighed.

Nat chuckled. It was too loud in there, so she stepped in front of her, leaning close. "Go, dance, I'll be there in a sec."

And they split up. Nat sat on one of the bar stools, sort of dizzy despite being deadly sober. She watched the girls get sucked into the crowd, jump, dance.

She kept thinking about Lottie and her, out on that sidewalk. Stupid slices of the moment played over and over before her eyes. The streetlights bouncing off her earrings; a single quiver of her chin that left her lips parted; how her eyes flicked across Nat's face instead of focusing on the lipstick.

That funny tingle right above her belly was turning into a stomachache.

She hated how much she wanted to go back up there with her. Go anywhere with her, just the two of them.

If there was one thing she truly loved about herself was that she didn't have to depend on anybody. Her looks, her voice, her life…it was all fine. It was the deal she got and she lived with it, didn't give herself much time to dwell in her misfortune. What she chose to do with it —that was what mattered.

She wasn't a dick like her old man —most of the time, at least. She didn't torture freshmen just because she was older, 'cause she could. In fact, she didn't torture anybody. And she wasn't useless like her mom, staying in that dump all day, curtains closed, having her damn kid take care of her.

She could take care of herself. She didn't get too attached to people. Live and let live type-thing.

Yet here she was, sitting in a corner with her pride colored red by a girl who probably wasn't about to waste a single thought on her.

Some guy slipped into the stool next to hers. Not too old, mid-twenties or so. And he wasn't hard on the eyes. Soft-ish jaw, brown eyes, dark hair, with a Bowie t-shirt under his flannel.

Swear, had Lottie been a mediocre white man, she would've been that guy.

"What's your haircut called?" he asked Nat, slurring the words.

She chuckled. "You looking for a change?" He bobbed his head. "And you're asking a girl?"

"If it's hot, it's hot."

Nat smiled. There was a compliment in there, somewhere, sure, but she wasn't smiling at that. She just liked what he said.

"Yeah. Guess so." He was grinning at her, a half-drunken charm to him. "Sorry, can't help you."

"With the hair?"

"That, and whatever else you're looking for."

He sucked air in through his teeth like she had burnt him. Nat faced the crowd again, looking for the girls.

"You here with someone?" he asked right as she spotted their heads, mere fish in the sea by then. "Boyfriend?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Would that get you off my back?"

He put his palms up. "Say the word, I'll leave."

His eyes thinned when he smiled, soft and sweet. They reminded her of…somebody.

She ran a hand through her hair. Maybe that would shake the thought off.

"Whatever," she shrugged.

The guy resumed his position —elbow on the counter, torso leaning toward her. "So, who you watchin'?"

"Nobody," Nat answered quickly, whipping her head to the side. He was closer than she'd thought.

His eyes fell down her face, slowly making their way back up. "You sure?"

He knew what he was asking. She knew what he was asking.

Nat didn't want him gone. He was serving as a perfect distraction, and, well, she hadn't kissed a guy for months —that was if you didn't count Kevyn, which she definitely wouldn't.

Besides, he was just so…comforting. Yeah, that was the word. He felt familiar; it made her skin warm. Nat guessed there were some people out there who had the ability to make you feel like that. No other reason for it.

And maybe she would've leaned in, given into it, had an arm not wrapped around her.

"Hey, babe," she said, making sure both of them heard, and jerked Nat close.

Lottie had a cup in one hand and Nat's waist in the other. The touch did nothing to alleviate the heat that had spread across her.

"Miss you over at the floor," she smiled —as if it was the most natural thing ever for her to be grabbing Nat that way, calling her pet names.

What the fuck?

She shot Nat a look. "Who's this?"

Oh. Right.

Nat turned to him.

"So, nobody?" he asked Nat, straightening up.

In the split second it took her to choose, her arm was circling Lottie. As soothing as that guy was, the tenderness in his eyes had nothing on Lottie's hand, stretching to reach her thigh.

"Uh, yeah," she breathed out. "Sorry, man."

"All good. Should've known, right?"

Lottie hid some giggles in Nat's hair. Nat pinched her hip, mumbling curses, and asked him, "W—what does that mean?" 

"Nothin', you just— you have the look , you know?"

It wasn't the first time Nat got called a lesbian, but it sure was the first time it wasn't meant as an insult.

Lottie laughed hard enough for him to notice, so she had to make all that giggling into something else. Nat didn't have much time to be annoyed at her —she was kissing her fucking neck.

"Go with it," she hissed into Nat's ear.

She pecked her way up to Nat's jaw, moving to stand between her legs. Her eyes were heavy, and it was dark in there —Nat could barely see her face. But she was looking at her like she was a fucking meal, and it was making Nat’s chest tight enough to split open.

Nat knew Lottie was only trying to get that guy to quit bothering her, but he wouldn't take a goddamn hint, and her lips still brushed Nat’s jaw. Her fingers still pulled the back of her hair. She had given Nat a lighter in the middle of the freezing, cold snow, and Nat rolled the crap striker until her fingers bled.

"You gonna sit there and watch?" Lottie snapped at him, lifting her face from the crook of Nat’s neck. "Beat it."

He practically ran away, the stool left to whirl.

A long second of following him with their eyes, then Lottie broke into laughter, hands around Nat's neck. Hers were glued to Lottie’s waist. "Shit," Nat tried to chuckle. "That was…"

"Appropriate?" Lottie cut her off, sparing a narked glance toward the guy.

"...unlike you.”

Lottie pressed her lips together. She tilted Nat's head back, rather gently. "Not a word about this," she demanded.

Nat was leering before she even said it. "Wouldn't wanna piss the girlfriend off."

Lottie saw her sly smile; she lowered her hands to Nat's shoulders. "Nat, I'm serious."

"Lot." She caught dark eyes in hers. "I would never. You know that shit, come on."

Lottie smiled in a breathy, loose way, like she was too far gone to tell her face to move. "I know."

Nat's back was dripping sweat by then. Surely, a club with no windows had to be a hazard. She couldn’t fathom Lottie’s long sleeves. How come she wasn’t fucking melting?

"Thanks for the save, by the way." She peeled her jacket off, forcing Lottie's hands away from her skin.

"Anytime," Lottie chuckled. Then her eyes found him, which wiped her smile swiftly. "What a jerkoff."

"He was nice. And he was a Bowie fan." Nat stood up, jacket in hand. "He was basically you with a dick."

"You wish," Lottie scoffed.

They joined the group for a while, danced with them. Cups got passed around, and it seemed the only ones not drinking were Nat, Laura Lee, and Lottie —she was never much of a drinker.

During one of the songs, though she couldn't recall which one, Lottie tore the circle. She reached for Laura Lee and spun her around. Jackie and Shauna had their hands on each other, and Mari and Van were singing along. Tai beckoned Nat over and grabbed her shoulders.

They switched dancing partners until they ended up as they usually did: Mari lost to some guy; Jackie and Shauna, hand in hand, laughing at god-knows-what; Tai, Van, Laura Lee, and Lottie in a smaller group. 

Nat's head was cloudy. It seemed impossible for her to cool off, like somebody had bathed her in gasoline.

And she couldn't keep her fucking eyes off Lottie, which was borderline psychotic. She just looked so beautiful in that dress, with her hair sticking to her neck and her hands sliding down her chest. What was she supposed to do? Look away?

The flickering lights robbed her of seconds, frames of her. She bumped past Tai and Van and snatched her arm, dragged her away. No reason for it. Her body had withdrawn from her mind, and she couldn't stop dry, so she got them lost in the crowd.

Lottie had to break off. Nat could tell she was about to question her when she forced her to turn around, but the words got lost inside her mouth. 

The place was too loud; they were standing near the speakers. There was no point in talking.

She smiled and offered her hands up like she wasn't parched of her, heaving and hot and ready to run away had Lottie not taken them.

But she was angry. She was mad that she couldn't stand to be away from her for two fucking seconds. She was furious at the thought of the night being over —of holding Lottie's useless lighter for the rest of junior year, watching her slip away and summon an unyielding winter.

She used to like the cold, yet now it seemed every single second she spent on finding a way to keep warm and blur lines. She couldn't do it with drugs, or alcohol, so she laughed and jumped along with the bodies, and Lottie did too —grinning wide and at her, draining her of hatred. How could she be angry at something that made her feel alive?

They were coming down, a sense of landing in her stomach, and Nat fell a little too close to her —by accident or not, it didn't matter.

Lottie was meant to be looked at from up close, Nat thought. Panting, with her eyes glazed over, and whatever lipgloss she hadn't left on Nat's neck glistening.

She wondered whether Camila would stop and stare at her before she kissed her —right at that spot where their noses touched and her edges faded. It would be such a shame to miss that.

"Come with me."

The sight was lost to her as Tai yanked her back and away from Lottie, leaving Van to dance with her.

She didn't fight. It happened too fast for her to complain.

Tai took her behind a column that kept them from the girls' eyes. Her forehead was creased, and she was grabbing Nat's arm like she was a kid in need of a leash.

"What was that?" she asked, each word sharpened.

Nat pulled her arm back. "Dancing."

She looked at her sideways and raised her eyebrows, so Nat guessed she didn't believe her.

They had a tacit agreement, the two of them. Nat and Lottie knew about Tai and Van; Tai and Van knew about Lottie and Camila. None of them would mention it, and if asked they’d deny it, but they knew.

"What?" Nat shrugged —which was hard, given her skin had turned into goddamn see-through paper.

Tai got closer, arms crossed in that 'I know better than you and I can't wait to tell you all about it' way she had. It pissed Nat off.

"Cut it out. I swear, if you fuck everything up right before regionals—" 

"You'd love that, wouldn't you? Having me to blame, as per fucking usual."

She dropped her arms, a scoff leaving her mouth. "You know what? Fine. If you don't give a shit about the team, at least pretend to care about her."

Nat shook her head, disbelieving. Taissa insisted on seeing her as this bonehead lowlife. It normally wouldn't bother her —everybody thought of her that way. But the implication that she would hurt Lottie or the girls carelessly, that she could do that shit on purpose…

Her throat was closing up. "She's my friend. What? I can't fucking dance with her now?" 

"Not like that, no."

Nat snuffed and looked away. "Screw you."

She pushed past her and headed for the curtains.

Fine. Maybe the dancing had gotten a little weird, and her thoughts had wandered somewhere they weren't supposed to be, but— Fuck her!

She wasn't trying to blow anything up. Her fingers were bleeding, and she was burning up, and she just wanted to be close to her again, like they used to be. She wanted to lie in her bed with her arms holding her into place, in that house that made the world feel distant.

And that wasn't wrong. It couldn't be.

And it didn't mean anything either.

The air out on the street was colder —she knew by her pale fingers and gritting teeth— but she couldn't feel it. 

A sign on the sidewalk announced the special offers in honor of winter's end. It was written in chalk with those stupid little drawings coffee shops liked to do. Nat kicked it, forced it to bend and slam on the ground. She just had to get it out of her system.

"Nat!" Lottie's heels clicked on the sidewalk, tailing her. "What are you doing?"

Nat kept walking, even picked up her step a bit. "What's it look like?"

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened, Lottie!" Nat exhaled, long and exasperated.

She wished Lottie would make it easier for her, that she would stop right then and there and leave her to fend for herself —because maybe if she'd only had an ounce less of kindness, Nat would've actually wanted to stay away from her.

"Seriously?" Lottie reached for Nat's shoulder, but she whipped around so her hand wouldn't get to her. "What's wrong?"

Nat watched her shoes, then the sky. Anything but her. "I'm tired. I'm gonna head back, alright?" She could hear her imminent complaint. "It's not even ten fucking blocks, Lot. Just— don't worry about it."

And she went on her way, hands in her pockets.

She truly thought she'd gotten rid of Lottie —until she was crossing the street and her elbow touched hers as they walked. Her heels were in her hand, arms wrapped around herself.

Nat sighed. She knew arguing was no good. That girl's head was as hard as a rock.

Around three blocks away, Lottie's shoulders bumped into hers. "Race you there?"

Nat's lips stretched. She didn't reply, didn't even look at her, before dashing on.

"Cheater!" Lottie shouted, gaining on her already.

Nat's smile stayed on all the way to the parking lot. Her chest stung, and her eyes were dry, and her heart was beating out of her chest. And it felt fucking amazing.

Lottie took the last corner to their room before she did, and as much as her legs switched and switched, Nat was a second too late.

"Yes!" Lottie cheered, hand slapping the wooden door. 

Nat pushed her body against it, dragging them both inside as she shushed Lottie's bragging. "You're gonna get us all fucking busted," she scolded her, unable to wipe her grin.

They laughed and they heaved, Nat's hands on her knees. Lottie ran hers through her hair, head thrown back. Nat's eyes caught her neck, her collarbones, the way they moved like water. She looked away.

Lottie's jacket and shoes hit the floor. Nat's followed, then she straightened up to find Lottie's hand stretched in the space between them.

Hesitant, she shook it. There was no harm in that.

"Good game," Lottie said, waiting a second before adding, "Loser."

Nat's mouth fell open. And, listen, maybe her competitiveness got in the way of her judgment, but Lottie had gloated enough.

"You bitch," she bit out, laughing and jerking Lottie's arm to trip her onto the bed.

The girl yelped, catching herself as she hit the mattress.

Nat jumped beside her. She didn't give her any time to recover before shoving her fingers into her stomach, forcing her to roll over.

Lottie didn't challenge Nat's hands nailing her wrists down, or her knees straddling her hips. Nat knew she wouldn't; Lottie wasn't much of a fighter. She giggled, stomach shaking under Nat.

Her hairdo had come off, so all around her face were waves, flowing in every direction like roots. Nat thought she looked like a painting. She didn't know much about paintings, they were boring —well, if any artist got smart enough to paint Lottie, then sure, she'd drop by a museum or two.

"Such a sore loser," Lottie mocked.

She bent forward, only to push Lottie's arms further into the bed. "Shut up."

The tips of her hair tickled Lottie's neck. Her black had grown long by then, but still, it would only have taken a couple inches for their noses to touch.

She giggled and squirmed because of it, so Nat slid her arms up to keep her there. Once their hands were palm against palm, it made no sense for her not to lace their fingers, so she did.

Lottie's lower lip got trapped between her teeth. It reminded Nat of their first JV local match. How angry it made her that Lottie wouldn't quit biting her words back. How rejecting her lips when they were offered to her hadn't even crossed her mind. How she tasted of honey, peach chapstick, and salt.

Red poured from her fingers. That lighter had to work. It just had to.

"Nat," Lottie whispered.

She'd never noticed how pretty her name sounded coming from her. Maybe Lottie said it differently than everyone else did.

She was lowering herself toward her. It wasn't deliberate; she realized because her nose brushed hers ever so slightly. Accidental. A huge mistake, possibly.

But Nat felt the spark. She saw it in Lottie's eyes first —it was easy to find it from up close. Then she heard the striker roll, the flame dancing right above her stomach.

"Yeah?"

Her breath bounced right back from Lottie's lips.

"What are you doing?" she asked softly —so very softly, Nat's eyes fluttered shut.

The sparks traveled through her veins. She felt them smite as she felt Lottie's hips skim the inside of her thighs, her hands loose inside Nat's.

"I don't know," she breathed out, barely saying it at all. The words got lost inside Lottie's mouth.

And she kissed her.

And she burst into flames.

Lottie's lips felt gentle on hers, but the spontaneous combustion bent her will to stay. She pulled away, just enough to look at her and make sure she hadn't scorched them to ashes.

Lottie looked just as she had a second before. Maybe even more fucking perfect, with her cheeks flushed, her breathing quickened, and her eyes half-open.

Nat searched her face for a scowl, waited for her to push her off and shower her with snow.

She didn't.

Lottie curled her fingers around Nat's, squeezed her hands just enough for Nat to let out this breathy, desperate sound she didn't know she was holding back at all.

That time, when her lips met Lottie's, they were hungry. They pecked and pressed down eagerly until Lottie copped them, let them in.

Their mouths opened; their hands sought. Nat hunted for her neck, all the curves she had been aching to trace. Lottie grasped the back of her hair, like she'd done earlier, back when it didn't mean a thing. Now, for Nat, it meant the whole fucking world.

She couldn't find a way to bring Lottie deeper into her. Her lips felt raw already. She thought maybe she ought to slow down, give Lottie a beat. But, as she pulled back, Lottie chased after her.

She sat up, keeping Nat on her lap, hands holding her waist. Nat smiled into the kiss.

Her fingers tilted Lottie's chin up. Dripping down to her neck was different than it had been with boys before, because, well, if she was being honest, she had never done it. They mostly took care of that area. And, if she was being really honest, this was so much fucking better.

She couldn't recall ever so greedily needing to get a reaction out of someone, questing after Lottie's muzzled moans like there was someone challenging her. Maybe, in a way, there was, but she didn't want to think about that shit then.

Lottie failed to swallow another one of her whiny, needy little sounds before pushing Nat onto the bed. 

Nat watched her climb on top of her with fire still raging in her throat. She couldn't put it out, not even by grabbing Lottie's face and rushing her in.

Her hands reached for her dress —that tight fucking dress— and they made it ride up as much as she liked. She clawed her legs, every bit of them she could. Then she moved up to her waist, her back, her face. 

Lottie did the same, her thumb parting the kiss. Nat would've been upset had Lottie not run it down her mouth, dragging her lower lip with it. She took it between her teeth and pulled, slow and sweet. Only Lottie knew how to be that fucking gentle with her. No one else cared enough to be gentle; no one else could even guess Nat wanted that.

She let her tug and kiss her like they had time to spare. A hand brushed her hair back, the other held her jaw. Right then, as Nat drowned in that caring touch of hers, the flames were finally beginning to yield. They fluttered and wobbled, flooding her with a peaceful warmth.

It was nice. 

But then it wasn't.

"Fuck," she heard as cold set over her lips, her body.

Lottie pushed herself off the bed, a hand clamped over her mouth. She wiped her lips and fixed her dress.

"Shit! Fucking– Argh!"

Nat watched her pace from one end of the room to the other, and she could feel it all over again —fire was catching.

"What's wrong?" she dared ask, gulping somewhere along the way.

Lottie's eyes were wide open. " What's wrong ?!" 

She ran her hands through her hair so roughly she might have been trying to rip it out. Then she wiped her mouth again.

Nat swallowed hard, like her damn spit could tame the heat. She stood up, unsure why.

"Fuck!" Lottie groaned, head between her hands.

Nat didn't have the nerve to tell her to be quieter, that someone might hear them. If she could have managed to scream, she would've.

She took a step toward her, but she didn't even get to set her foot down before Lottie was shaking her head and backing up. She picked her jacket and her shoes off the floor.

"Lottie, stop," Nat got out.

She felt it before it happened, as Lottie whipped around with tears in her eyes.

"No, fuck you!" she cried, or scolded her, or screamed. "I— I liked you for years, Nat! I was so pathetically over the fucking moon for you. I was...fuck— I was yours! I was fucking yours and you didn't want me. You know what that's like?" She had to stop, blowing air through tight lips. Her voice got lower. "I've been getting over you since I fucking met you. And now that I'm happy and I have a great fucking girlfriend you— you pull this?"

A dreadful beat hung before she finished.

"Do you even like me? At all?" she shrugged.

And there it was. 

Her insides ignited, and so did the trees, and the mountains, and everything else. A wildfire; uncontainable red, yellow, and orange, and smoke that made her eyes water.

Nat couldn't keep the tears in. She looked away from her, sniffled and dried them quickly. 

Lottie stood there, awaiting answers Nat couldn't give her. The goddamn world was set aflame and she still couldn't figure out the fucking words.

"Like me? What is this? Fifth grade?" she mumbled with some sort of sad chuckle.

Lottie mirrored it, but hers sounded so pained it hurt Nat's ears. She brought a hand up to cover her mouth, a sob caught in her throat as she opened the door to leave.

Nat stayed there, a hand holding her stomach. Her bloody fingers weren't pitiable —they let her know just how guilty she was.

Maybe Taissa was right. She was selfish, and stupid, doomed to burn whatever she touched.

But it was cold and dark out there, and the girls wouldn't be back for a while, so, even if she'd already scorched them both, she walked through the door.

Lottie's hands were on the railing, head hung to face the floor. She walked up to her with her nails digging into her palm.

"Lot, it's fucking freezing," she managed. Lottie didn't even move. "Go back inside. I'll sleep over somewhere."

She took a second, then threw her head back. Nat couldn't help but find her mythical —tear–stricken face, features calm under the moonlight. She drew in a long, deep breath before turning around, not even looking in Nat's direction, and heading into the room.

She flinched as the handle clicked.

The girls got back an hour later. Nat hid around the corner so Van wouldn't see her. She would've worried, made her sleep in their room, but Nat didn't want to deal with Tai's whole 'I told you so' thing.

Laura Lee's was a no-go; Misty was there. And Nat didn't want the sophomores to talk shit, so Mari's wasn't either. Besides, she would ask questions, and what was Nat supposed to say?

She was seriously considering sleeping on one of the pool's deck chairs when she heard Jackie's voice.

"Oh my god," she gasped, then giggled. "Don't tell me Lottie has some guy over."

Nat didn't answer or turn to look at her. She was afraid she would start to cry if she did.

Shauna stood on her left, Jackie on her right. Nat heard her grin wipe off. "Wait, are you okay?"

She couldn't reply. Shauna put a hand on her shoulder, Jackie on her arm. The two of them only functioned as a whole. They shared a look, then Nat was getting led away.

"Okay, come on," Shauna said quietly.

They brought her into their room and filled water bottles with tap water. She barely heard them over the crackling of her fire.

"How many?"

"Think two each should do it."

"What about her?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"How much she had."

"Hey, Nat, how smashed are you?"

"Nat?"

"Is she okay?"

"Nat, come on."

"Earth to Nat."

Jackie clapped her hands in front of her face, successfully snapping her back. "How much did you have to drink? We have to be all sobered up by eleven, so it's either shoving your fingers down your throat or waterboarding."

"I– I didn't have anything," Nat mumbled.

She raised her eyebrows. "For real?"

Nat bobbed her head.

"Are you sure?" Shauna asked.

Nat bobbed her head again.

They shrugged it off and gulped their water. Nat slid down the wall and hugged her knees. 

Jackie handed her a pajama set —pink, with little bears all over. Nat frowned up at her.

"What?" Jackie mumbled through her toothpaste. "You gonna sleep in those?" She stared her down. Nat had to admit, a short skirt and tight tank top weren't exactly gonna help her get through the night. "Besides, it's not like you can go out tomorrow morning looking like that. Coach might see you."

So she took the damn thing and changed into it, feeling like a rat with a bow in front of the mirror. 

She balled her clothes up and made some sort of pillow to lie down on. The floor wouldn't hurt her bones any more than the fire did, though she didn't even get to sit before Shauna spoke.

"Sleep with me," Shauna told her and got under the covers. 

Nat was…confused, at the very least. She didn't hang out with Jackie and Shauna much, so she didn't expect them to be any nicer to her than they had to be.

Shauna beckoned her over again, so she listened. Her ass was half-hanging from that bed, and she wasn't gonna shuffle any fucking closer.

"Jackie can't share to save her life," Shauna said with an eye roll, then smirked at Jackie's scoff.

"I can!" she argued.

Shauna quirked an eyebrow. "Right."

Jackie huffed and moved to the edge of Shauna's bed, poking Nat's side. "Scoot."

She cuddled up against Nat, stretching her arm over theirs.

"See? I love to share."

Shauna laughed and wrapped them both. "And I'd love to see you keep this up for more than ten seconds."

Nat's face was squeezed between them, which should've bothered her more than it did. Being crushed to death was better than thinking about everything else.

"I'll stay here all night if I have to."

Shauna's face twisted. "Please, don't."

They chuckled, and talked, and eventually got tired. Half an hour later, Jackie's quiet snores were all Nat could hear.

That stupid sound lulled her, somehow. She was exhausted from her internal inferno. And maybe it took her two hours because maybe she wanted to jump out of there and check on Lottie, despite the fact that the thought of her made her want to die, but she did fall asleep.

Next morning, she pretended she felt sick so Jackie and Shauna wouldn't drag her to breakfast. The mere chance of having to see Lottie from across the room was worth starving a little.

She snuck into their room while she was gone to grab her bags and take a quick shower. Her hair reeked of that club, and Lottie's perfume was stuck to her skin. She scrubbed it all off.

Lucky for her, Jackie pocketed some cereal bars and gave them to her. 

She didn't breathe the same air as Lottie until they got on the bus, heading to the high school they played against. Even then, she rushed past her seat next to Laura Lee without looking at her, aiming for a row that would keep her equally apart from her and from Tai.

"Nat! Get over here!" Jackie called, a hand curling toward the back of the bus.

She took the seat before Jackie and Shauna's. The three of them knelt so they could talk strategy —meaning Jackie and Shauna tried to get Nat to tell them why she was so shaken the night prior, and when Mari asked what they were whispering about, Jackie said it was “strategy” so she wouldn't meddle. 

"Seriously, it's nothing," Nat half-smiled, but it was too easy to see through.

"Listen, we're not asking for details or anything," Jackie said quietly.

"Yeah, we just wanna know nothing really bad happened."

"You did leave by yourself, y'know?"

Nat shook her head. She opened her mouth to tell them she didn't, that she was with Lottie, but what good would that have done? How would she explain why she couldn't sleep in her room? What if they got suspicious like Tai had?

"Nothing actually bad happened, alright?" she said instead. 

They looked at her, then at each other. Jackie nodded. "Okay."

Warm-ups started around two in the afternoon. They had been at it for a while when Nat saw Lottie jog out to the bleachers.

She was terrified of talking to her. What if she didn't even respond? What if she did and it was so much worse?

But she had to —and she wanted to more than anything.

She chased after her, stomach charring with each stomp.

Pretending to look for her stuff, she stood at an arm's distance, maybe even further from her. Lottie fixed her hair —pulled into a ponytail, with a few little braids that Nat was sure were Laura Lee's work— and drank some water.

Nat tried to weave her tongue into a single sentence that made sense, but the seconds were rushing by and she wasn't saying anything. She couldn't.

The bottle left Lottie's mouth. "I'm sorry you had to sleep somewhere else last night. That was shitty," she told her like she was in a hurry.

"It's fine."

Nat meant it. She couldn't fathom Lottie apologizing for something that was so obviously not her fault.

She left her bottle on the bench and fixed her jersey, turning to leave. "Okay, well—"

"Wait." Nat almost caught her by the wrist, then stepped back like Lottie might've been a bomb. "I, uh…I'm real sorry, Lot."

Lottie pressed her lips together, shot her one of those tight, incomplete smiles Nat hated. "Thanks, but– that doesn't really fix anything."

Yeah, Nat figured. Even if her apology hadn't been fucking lame, it wasn't enough. Still, self–awareness didn't make breathing any easier.

"I know." Her voice was rough; her throat hurt like it always did when she tried to swallow her tears. "But I— I mean…are we still friends? Can we just be friends?" she begged her.

Lottie's head moved around like she couldn't stand to look at her. "I don't think that's a good idea."

The cold she had been pleading for hit her all at once. Winter was over, and yet Nat was frozen into place. Her fingers paled; her teeth clamped together. She felt each of her muscles tense up as she watched Lottie jog back.

She had been burning for so long, she had forgotten what it was like to be surrounded by white, soulless snow.

It wasn't a nice kind of cold —crisp air that sobered you up, livened your bones. This was merciless, numbing ice. The kind that made your nose and fingers turn black and fall off. The kind that killed.

A hand rubbed her back, and Nat wished she had known better than to think it was Lottie's. She whipped her head around, and Shauna was by her side.

"Hey, I don't know what the whole you and Lottie thing is about, and I'm sure it sucks, but we really need you to be here right now."

She was looking at her with those damn Bambi eyes. Maybe that's why Jackie and her were so close. Maybe it was the fucking eyes.

Nat ran her hands down her face. "Yeah." She put them down, boots grinding the grass beneath them. "Yeah, fine," she exhaled.

Shauna patted her back one last time, then the whistle blew, and she was off.

Nat rolled her shoulders, stretched her neck. She was glad, in a way, because now she had an excuse.

She grabbed her bottle from the bunch, twisted the cap off carefully. The liquid stung as it made its way down to her stomach, spreading that heat she so desperately needed.

Shauna and Jackie's leftover booze was on the bathroom counter that morning. And, yeah, Nat felt fucking bad sneaking around, stealing their shit. Then again, she was a shitty person. That was simply what she did.

Besides, she was fucking freezing. If Lottie wouldn't be there to keep her warm, then she'd do it herself. Or, well, the booze would. She didn't need her. Nat couldn't need her. 

She chugged with her eyes pressed shut until the cold was manageable, and she kept chugging until she couldn't feel anything at all. Then she ran out to the field.

Chapter Text

I liked you for years, Nat!

The scissors' snip halted just before it sealed.

"Are you sure about this?" Jackie asked, almost a squeak.

Nat's arms flew to her sides. "Yes! I'm as sure as I was the other fifteen times you asked!"

Do you even like me? At all?

Jackie sounded so stressed, Nat was sure she would begin to whimper like a puppy. "Okay! Don't move!"

"What's the fucking problem? You said you did this all the time."

"Yes, for my split ends . Chopping your hair off is a little different." 

Nat clutched the towel around her shoulders tightly. 

From her spot on the corner, Shauna rolled her eyes. "Here, just— I'll do it."

She grabbed the scissors from Jackie, pushing her aside. 

Shauna was bolder about it. Where Jackie had held between two fingers, Shauna fisted and pulled.

"Last chance," she warned Nat as she narrowed the space between the blades.

I don't think that's a good idea.

Nat nodded.

The snip was fast and thick —thick like dropping heavy grocery bags on the kitchen counter after walking ten blocks with those shitty plastic handles boring into your palms. 

They gasped as eight inches of hair plummeted to Jackie's carpet. 

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Eight inches and a million pounds had been lifted off Nat's head, yet Lottie's voice wouldn't quit echoing inside of it.

Thanks, but that doesn't really fix anything.

***

April had rolled around. Or maybe it hadn't. Was it March still? Fuck, it was somewhere around there. She couldn't know.

Nat used whatever time she didn't spend sleeping, eating, or breathing to get drunk or high. Well, that's an exaggeration —she did have a system.

Smoking pot in the morning was strictly forbidden. She couldn't have the teachers notice her red, drowsy eyes. Consequences ranged from expulsion to a visit from CPS. Drinking, however, was alright. If she was a little tipsy or distracted, who cared? Everybody was weird at seven in the fucking morning. Besides, even if she got caught, it wasn't that big of a deal. She'd get a Saturday detention or two. No biggie.

Booze hours stopped at noon. She couldn't be dizzy during soccer; she had learned that the hard way. Smoking pot was an option, but an iffy one. She could trip the wrong way and end up feeling like her limbs were melting off, which wasn't ideal if she planned on doing any running. So she tried to get through the afternoon with regular cigs.

The blunts she saved for nighttime. To lie in bed and think about all the things she avoided thinking about during the day —so, mostly Lottie— without feeling any of the feelings they implied.

But at parties? Everything was fair game at parties. Joints, bongs, shrooms, whatever pills she could get her hands on for the least amount of cash.

The only rule was to do them while no one was looking. Bongs and joints were a group activity, those were fine, but everything else she hid from Jackie and Shauna so they wouldn't think it was a problem —which it wasn't.

Because, yeah, she was hanging with Jackie and Shauna a lot. Also Van; not so much with Tai, who Nat was sure hated her guts. Mari tagged along for some parties, but not all. She had her own friends and an on-and-off thing with Danny Mears.

Lottie, however, she only saw during soccer. Of course, the two of them weren't talking, but Lottie didn't seem to be doing a whole lot of talking with any of the other girls either.

They mentioned it once, fleetingly, how she spent all her time by the senior lockers with Camila while they got ready, then dipped as soon as practice was over to hang out with her. Weekends were no different, especially after Varsity flunked regionals and the seniors' training got lighter.

Not that Nat cared, but…what did Lottie see in that girl?

She was pretty, sure, but Lottie was gorgeous. Way out of her league. Her hair was a dull light brown and pin straight, nothing special. And her eyes weren't any better. They were brown, but not Shauna's pleading brown, or Lottie's earthy one, just plain, boring brown.

Judging by the few snippets of her personality she'd gathered over the months, she wasn't that interesting. Her main shtick was soccer, which, given how Varsity was doing, she wasn't very good at. Nat could probably kick her ass in 1v1 drills. Average student, no clubs, no misconduct warnings, no juicy rumors about her, no drama.

She was mediocre at best. Nat wouldn't spare a single thought on her, if only the first image that popped into her head when she heard her name weren't Lottie's teeth pulling on her mediocre-at-best lips.

That image was far from being wiped from her mind, given Lottie kept parading around the locker room with evident hickeys on her chest. Jackie and Mari wouldn't shut up about it, saying it was obvious she was hooking up with Jace, some guy from her crew of assholes that wrapped his jacked fucking arm around her shoulders every chance he got.

Of course, Jackie and Mari had the body language comprehension of a deaf bat. Jace was gay —Nat could just tell, she didn't know how, but it wasn't like she would say anything about it. She had to give it to Lottie, she had gotten better at hiding her girlfriend after all.

Though she guessed the idea may not have been entirely hers. Those weren't the first hickeys the girls brought up.

After regionals, as they were changing out of their soaked jerseys, she heard Mari whispering to Jackie and Shauna about it. 

Marks. Red and purple. On Lottie's neck.

Nat knew that was her fucking work. Maybe she had gotten a little too excited about it the night before.

Five minutes later, the story was that Lottie had made out with a guy in a Bowie t-shirt at the club. He had given her a ride to the motel, nothing more. Nat bore witness she hadn't fucked him —she was just a little too drunk, so she went to bed early. She was asleep by the time Nat got back.

Whether the tale had reached Lottie or not, she couldn't know. Nat hoped it hadn't.

***

Jackie was dabbing Shauna's cheeks with powdered blush. She did so every weekend. It didn't matter if Shauna was feeling the blush, mascara, and lipstick or not. Jackie would convince her some way or the other.

"You done?" Shauna sighed.

Jackie ran her thumb just above her upper lip a few times, then smiled. "Now I am."

"Great."

Shauna didn't mean that, it was clear. Nat couldn't figure Jackie out. Did she not notice? Did she deliberately ignore it? Didn't she care?

Tai walked to the edge of the bed, pulling something from beneath Nat. "Lift your ass up, you're sitting on my shirt."

She shuffled backward on the comforter, and Tai tried on shirt number…who knew. She kept strutting about in her bra, switching outfits every five minutes.

Nat's preferred plans for a Saturday night didn't include three hours of watching the girls get ready at Taissa's place. But the party was by the forest edge cul-de-sacs, which were across town from Nat's house —given the only people richer than their residents were the Matthews. So, she needed the ride. 

It wasn't too bad; she was already a bit high by then. Colin had been growing weed crops in his grandma's greenhouse downstate. He kept most, sold some of it, and gave a bunch to Rick and Nat. They planned on selling more during the summer, make some money to go to the Nine Inch Nails concert in September.

"Who else that we know is coming?" Jackie asked Taissa.

"Maybe Mari. I don't know about Laura Lee."

"She isn't. Church thing," Shauna noted.

"Cami, definitely."

Nat frowned, doubting Taissa would see. Cami? Since when did they call her Cami? She knew Tai and Van hung out with Camila and Lottie, so them being friendly wasn't odd, but…Cami?

"Oh, so Lottie's coming," Jackie guessed.

There was a brief, stilted silence. Tai peeled her shirt off. "Maybe."

Jackie put on mascara. "Come on, she lives right up there and her literal other half is coming. She's gonna be there."

I was...fuck— I was yours! 

It made sense. Lottie had been at every other party they had attended for the past month. Jackie and Shauna's friend group —truly Jeff's friends, who Jackie pretended to like and Shauna put up with for Jackie's sake— and Lottie's band of dickheads ran close; some of them bounced between the two packs. So Jackie was probably right.

It was clear everybody in that room felt uneasy, but once again, body-language-comprehension-of-a-deaf-bat Jackie just kept on talking.

"Guess it won't make much of a difference. I mean, she barely talks to us as it is, but at parties, she straight-up vanishes."

I was fucking yours and you didn't want me.

Shauna elbowed Jackie. They engaged in one of their silent bickering acts —whatever those aggressive eye movements were— until Jackie turned to Nat.

"Oh. Right. Forgot we can't say the L word."

Van walked in, Coke can in hand. "Lesbian?"

Tai snorted. "Lottie."

"Ah."

Van clicked her tongue, poking Tai's bare stomach before plopping onto the opposite side of the bed.

"I don't know why you guys are making such a big deal about this," Jackie told them, glancing at Nat with a smile that assumed she would agree. "It's just gonna be like every other time. You're at each other's throats for a few weeks, then you make up, forgive, forget, or whatever, and it's like nothing even happened."

I was so pathetically over the fucking moon for you.

Tai and Van shared a look. A pointed one. Aide. Loaded. Had Lottie said something to them? She couldn't ask right there. In fact, she couldn't ask at all. They probably wouldn't tell her either way.

Nat felt Shauna's eyes on her. She realized she had been frozen, staring at the comforter for a solid minute.

"New topic, Jacks," Shauna ordered.

Jackie sighed. "Fine, fine."

Thanks, but that doesn't really fix anything.

***

"Would you rather…suck off your dad—"

"What?!"

Shauna's eyes were heavy, though Nat could still see some stars in them. The composure they had fought hard to obtain since the last round of Would You Rather cracked in a second.

Nat tried to talk through the wheezing. "Shut— up! Let me— finish!"

"No!" Her head rolled side to side on the terrace. She had folded about two rounds ago, her back to the floor.

"Would you rather suck off your dad or eat your mom out?" 

She rubbed her eyes. "Oh my god, you're the worst."

Nat's stomach hurt from shaking so much.

They had climbed to the roof maybe an hour earlier. Neither of them was feeling that particular party —though Nat couldn't recall why; all those houses from all those people whose names she didn't even know blended together.

It probably had something to do with Lottie.

Lottie dancing with someone, Lottie laughing, Lottie not saying hello to her, Lottie's voice, other people talking about Lottie, Lottie and Camila, Camila taking Lottie somewhere, Camila hugging Lottie. Didn't matter. Lottie breathing near her was enough to put her in a mood back then.

So they took a blunt up to the roof and shared it, which was going great.

"How am I supposed to even choose?!"

Nat was sitting beside her, smoking —a regular that time. She kicked her arm playfully. "Hey, if I had to choose whether to have dicks for fingers or dicks for nipples, you're choosing this."

"Still can't believe you chose fingers."

"It's more practical!" Nat had explained herself three times and she would do it again. "If they're on my hands, I can…shove 'em up places, y'know? How would you work them if they're on your fucking tits?!"

"Why would you wanna work them?!"

Nat stammered. "I mean, might as well."

Whatever, she was blazed out of her mind. The logic wasn't coming to her full-swing. It would get there eventually.

"Okay, uh…I guess…suck off my dad?" Shauna said, eyes half shut and her voice too high. 

Nat coughed out a long drag. "Now you gotta tell me why."

"It would be quicker, right?"

"I s'pose."

"My turn." Shauna's hands danced around, looking for her words as she hummed. "Would you rather burn to death or drown to death?"

I've been getting over you since I fucking met you.

Nat's puff tasted bitter at the edge of her throat. She dabbed the cigarette, watched the ashes turn bright orange as they fell on her shoes.

You know what that's like?

"Burn," she answered, then smothered the end between her fingers.

***

The backseat of Shauna's car was suffocatingly hot then —a humid kind of hot. Quiet, too. Maybe the silence added to the heat.

She glanced to her right. Lottie was sitting with her arms crossed as well, looking out the window. 

Here's how her evening had gone.

She got to Shauna's place around eight. They were going to a keg party in the woods later.

Nat never let Shauna and Jackie drive to her house to pick her up; her neighborhood was kind of sketchy. She knew Jackie would be uncomfortable, trust fund baby and all.

Besides, her house wasn't that far from Shauna's. A thirty-minute stroll was bearable with Loveless blasting through her headphones.

She remembered how Lottie used to tell her she didn't understand how she could listen to all that noise so loudly. It made her crack a smile, which she gifted to the pavement.

No, fuck you!

She shivered, let her mind fall blank the rest of the way.

Jackie smiled a little too wide when she got there, opened the door and hugged her tight. Maybe Nat should've seen it coming right then.

Some broody shit played in the car when Jackie turned the radio on. Shauna loved sulky songs; Nat wasn't mad that Jackie scowled and switched the cassette.

They stopped at some random park. Jackie hadn't talked for five minutes, which was very out of character for her.

The door opened, a familiar chuckle fluttered into the car before Nat could ask, or talk, or move.

"Hey," Lottie smiled, not taking notice of Nat.

Shauna and Jackie were quiet. Still.

She slipped into the backseat and shut the door. Her hair was down, puffy like it would get when it was windy outside. And she had this flowy, off-the-shoulder dress that made her look like she was the fucking wind itself.

I was...fuck— I was yours!

Her smile faded as soon as her eyes locked with Nat's.

"Go!" Jackie said.

Shauna and her nearly jumped out of the car. They slammed their doors. Nat and Lottie attempted to follow, but they held the backdoors closed until Shauna managed to twist the key and lock them inside.

That car had become a big, hermetic time bomb.

"What the fuck?!" Nat shouted, slamming the window. 

Shauna took wary steps away from the car. "For the record, this was Jackie's idea."

"Narc!"

"What are you doing?" Lottie asked Jackie, stern but calm —at least more so than Nat, who tried the door handle until her wrist gave up.

"You two gotta talk," Jackie told them. "You're not communicating on the field and it's messing up our game."

"Yeah. No offense," Shauna added, trying not to piss Nat off any further.

Nat glared at her, then at Jackie. "That's bullshit. Our game is fine."

" Fine isn't gonna cut it," Jackie said. "States are less than a month away, and if we win JV states, it sets us off on a good foot for next year. After how Varsity did, we need that."

Lottie mumbled, "That wasn't their fault."

Nat rolled her eyes. Was that what Camila had said?

Shauna circled the car, held Jackie's hand. "We'll be back in an hour."

They were walking away. Lottie sighed and pressed her back against the seat.

"Have fun with your talk!" Jackie waved.

Now that I'm happy and I have a great fucking girlfriend you— you pull this?

So here she was, sitting in hateful silence with the one person in her life who had an actual, real reason to hate her —besides, maybe, her mom— and the one person Nat actually, really didn't want to hate.

Brilliant fucking idea, Jackie.

Nat didn't know what to do with herself. The rustle of her jeans against the car seat, her leather jacket, her breathing —it all sounded strange and loud.

Lottie didn't, though. Lottie was as quiet as she had been for the past ten minutes.

I was fucking yours and you didn't want me. You know what that's like?

She swung her legs over the handbrake and struggled onto the driver's seat. If they weren't going to talk —and she very much didn't want to— some music couldn't hurt.

The glove compartment had a few options at hand. The Cranberries were an immediate pass —Nat was fine with the music, not so much with pleasing Lottie. Weezer was so fucking moany, she couldn't stand it. So Nirvana it was.

Lottie didn't even put up with half of "Something In The Way" before stabbing the power button with her finger.

I don't think that's a good idea.

Nat didn't bother glaring at her. She gave it a second, then put the song back on. If she couldn't kick and scream, she could find other ways to annoy her.

Except Lottie cut her resources. She pulled the tape out and threw it back into the glove compartment.

"They're right," she said decisively. Final. Like she couldn't be argued with.

But Nat sure could try. "Like hell they are."

"Come on, Nat."

I don't think that's a good idea.

She scoffed, went back to quietly sitting with her arms folded over her stomach. 

Lottie sighed and took the passenger seat. "I mean, we did fuck up Taissa's play yesterday."

"Yeah, 'cause you didn’t pass me the fucking ball when you were s’posed to."

"And I won't as long as you keep showing up to practice high, so."

Nat chuckled bitterly. Lottie always had to be the savior. She couldn't just leave things be. She saw shredded paper and she tried to mend it back into a tree, even if she cut her hands in the process.

And maybe sometimes it worked. Maybe sometimes she would smile at the forest with bloody palms.

But not with Nat. Never with Nat.

"Great, Lot. That fucking fixes it."

She turned to Lottie with the heavy eyelids she knew bothered her. Red where there should be white, blown, and teary.

Lottie's face twisted when she saw her —like Nat had just snorted up cocaine in front of her or something. Somehow slightly shocked and hurt. She knew she couldn't mold her paper back into wood and it bothered her.

"Jesus. It's not even ten yet."

"Pre-gaming is a thing. Ever heard of that?"

She stirred in her seat, cleared her throat. "Point is, we need to be able to play together."

I don't think that's a good idea.

Nat tried not to flinch. How could Lottie be sitting beside her, speaking so calmly, and her voice still drum in Nat's head?

"You're the one that didn't wanna be friends," she mumbled without meaning to.

Still, she thought Lottie would deny it, try to soften it somehow.

Instead, she told her, "I'm not saying we have to be friends, but we can't ignore each other on the field."

Nat watched the road. She had this feeling in her chest, like when she caught a really bad cold. High fever, trembling, sweating through the cold sheets. She had felt it for a while, and it only seemed to get worse around Lottie.

"Fine," she managed, if only so she wouldn't begin to shiver. "I won't fuckin' ignore you or whatever."

Lottie smiled a little, bobbed her head. "Cool. I, uh, won't ignore you either."

Nat slumped into her seat. It didn't feel like they'd solved anything, but she wouldn't be the one to drag that conversation out.

They sat in silence for a while. It was less tense than the first time, but just as weird. Nat's eyes bounced between the street and the clock.

Twenty minutes left.

"I like the hair, by the way," Lottie spoke suddenly.

Nat turned to her, frowning. Lottie pointed to her head. "Oh. Yeah, thanks."

She ruffled it with her hand, too aware of it.

"Did Shauna really cut it?"

"Yep."

They chuckled, but Nat couldn't help her plastic fever. Lottie used to know every detail about her life. She was the first person Nat wanted to talk to about…pretty much anything. And now they gathered each other's weeks from whispers in the locker room.

Another long silence washed over them.

Nat checked the clock. Five minutes left.

"And, uh, Nat?"

Lottie's voice sounded strained. Nat turned to see her. She had her hands on her lap, fingers clawing her dress, though Nat doubted she realized.

"Yeah?"

Her eyes set on Nat's. She didn't think she could ever stop being in awe of them, even if they ended up hating each other someday. 

"Happy birthday," Lottie told her.

And she turned the music back on.

***

They went to Bobby's house for a barbecue the following week.

Nat didn't realize it would involve so much talking to so many people she found irritating until she was uncomfortably sipping beer from a blue cup.

Jackie had made it a point to be there a little early, because, "Jeff and his friends are hosting, so we're sort of guests of honor."

"Meaning he wants us to help set up?" Shauna asked, resentful.

"We don't have to. We can just pretend."

And Jackie did pretend. Nat actually helped, because pushing furniture around was better than exchanging a single word with Bobby Farleigh or his crew. Shauna moped on a corner the entire time, silently cursing everyone in that house.

A few hours and three cups later, Nat found the event bearable. The company may have sucked, but the beer was pretty good, and those guys could be half-funny when they weren't busy being assholes. 

So what if Lottie was there? That had nothing to do with it. Nat was entertained in spite of her, not because of her.

Maybe following Lottie's every move across the room was the one thing keeping Nat from ditching, but…whatever. It didn't mean anything. Lottie still didn't want to be around her, and Nat was still to blame for that.

She was pouring herself some apple juice in the kitchen. Nat watched her fondly, not that she would have admitted to that. And, for the first time in weeks, she was by herself. No Camila treading her heels, no Jace clinging to her arm. Lottie. Alone. Twenty feet away from her.

Nat gripped her cup tightly and walked across the room.

She kept her steps slow, giving the universe time to knock her down. And the universe sure did. Well, technically, Bobby Farleigh did.

"Shit. Oh, you good?" he blurted, a hand scratching the back of his head, the other dropping the football he had just traded for Nat's wellbeing. "My bad, I didn't see you."

The back of Nat's shirt was soaking in beer; her spilled cup had caught her fall.

She picked herself off the floor, refusing his stretched hand. Her mouth filled with every insult it could gather.

"Asshole," Lottie beat her to it. "I told you to quit throwing that thing in here. You're letting her borrow a shirt."

"Uh, yeah, of course." He looked nervously between the two of them, then set on Nat. "Have any one you want."

He seemed genuinely sorry, so Nat chose not to cuss him out. Besides, Lottie didn't give her any time before gesturing her to follow.

"I'll help you find one."

She led Nat up the stairs, down a long hallway, and into his bedroom.

He had Stone Temple Pilots and Nirvana posters on his walls and a wicked CD collection. Nat hated when bad people had good taste in music, but that didn't stop her from going through the albums with a smile on her face.

"Here," Lottie spoke, handing her a dark green t-shirt. "It's the smallest one I could find."

Nat unfolded it. The Hulk scowled at her, and she scowled back. "Thanks," she told Lottie.

It was ugly, but it was better than the beer sitting on her back. 

"How did you manage for this to happen to you twice?" Lottie teased.

Nat smiled, feeling a little cursed. "Don't know. I was tryna talk to you, actually."

She turned away from her, shedding her wet top.

"What about?"

"Nothin' much. Just ask if you wanted to hang out with us. You looked bored, is all."

"I am a bit, yeah," Lottie admitted with a chuckle. 

"Camila's not here?" Nat asked as she plucked Hulk off the bed.

"No, she's, uh, at my house. She's got finals soon and her place is…crowded. My parents are quieter than four little brothers, y'know?" She heard her tuck her hair behind her ears. "But she'll be here."

Nat glanced to her left, caught herself in a mirror there —she also caught Lottie, standing a little further behind her, eyes flitting from the curtains to Nat's bare back.

"Cool," she said, lingering a second too long before putting the shirt on.

She turned around. Lottie hid a giggle behind her fingers.

"It's, uh…" She let a chuckle out, then straightened up. "I think it's a little big."

"You think?" Nat grumbled. The damn thing fell to her knees, and the sleeves touched her elbows.

"Wait up, I'll find you another one."

As Lottie rummaged through his drawers, Nat stripped the Hulk blanket off her body. 

She didn't think being shirtless in front of Lottie would be so awkward. The team shared a locker room three times a week. Nat could probably have named each mole on Jackie's back, or Van's birthmark right by her left hip. And she knew Lottie could do the same.

Still, she stumbled when she turned back around, keeping her eyes on the carpet as she offered a black t-shirt up to Nat.

"Uh, here."

Nat looked away and snatched it, careful not to touch Lottie's hand.

She kept watch of her through the mirror, taking her sweet time to unfold the shirt, letting Lottie's arms cross and her eyes wander.

Nat fought back shivers —a good kind that time—, because Lottie's gaze trailed up and down her back, over and over.

And now that I'm happy and I have a great fucking girlfriend you— you pull this?

She bit the inside of her cheek and threw the shirt on.

"Score," she tried to smile, seeing the Nirvana imprint on the front.

Lottie twitched, looking around the room before she could pull her eyes back in Nat's direction. "Great," she said, kind of breathy.

Nat didn't want to make sense of the itching thumps right below her stomach.

"So?" she asked her. "You wanna hang with us until Camila gets here or what?"

Lottie grinned, bobbing her head. "Yeah. Sure."

They chatted as they made their way downstairs —nothing too personal, mostly movies; a discourse on whether Pulp Fiction was good or not, and Van's recent obsession with The Brady Bunch Movie .

"Cami!" Lottie smiled before Nat could even bounce off the last step.

Camila didn't hear her. She looked…distraught. Her eyes were glazed over, her brow pinched. She didn't notice Lottie running up to her until she wrapped her arms around her.

"Hey." She hugged her back loosely, then pulled away. "I gotta talk to you," she told her quietly.

Lottie didn't even glance back at Nat. She let Camila drag her elsewhere.

Nat couldn't mind. She wasn't Lottie's friend anymore. She knew the whole shirt thing was just Lottie being Lottie, kind and willing to help out.

So, even if it hurt, she brushed it off, poured herself another cup.

I was fucking yours and you didn't want me. You know what that's like?

***

The empty bottle thundered against the back of her locker, gaining even the sophomores' attention. Nat kept shoving her things in there, hoping it would ease her anger.

Lottie had been weird all day. She'd bumped past her when she walked into the locker room, she'd switched sides during the scrimmage so she'd play against her, then tagged her so intensely that she barely touched the ball the whole game. 

All that wouldn't have been so strange —Nat could've chalked it up to coincidence— had Lottie not refused to talk to her.

She had assisted a score, like she usually did, so Nat made some dumb joke. It was supposed to be friendly, but Lottie straight-up ignored her.

"Hey," she called out, not unkindly. "What's the attitude about?" 

Lottie rolled her shoulders as the whistle blew. "You promised," she told Nat.

And she dashed to catch the ball.

Tai nagged Nat about it later, saying the ball was aimed right at her.

She took a deep breath, letting her head hang forward. 

Her locker slammed shut, nearly chopping her thumb off. Lottie walked past her, tilting her head so she'd follow.

Nat crossed her gear bag over her chest and tailed her into the equipment closet.

Lottie stood there, arms crossed and no sign of expression anywhere near her face.

"What?" Nat asked, closing the door behind her.

"You got something to tell me?"

Nat thought about it for a second. What could she possibly have done to grant this? Sure, she was a dick, but she hadn't done anything particularly dick-y that day —or week. The last time she'd talked to Lottie was at Bobby's barbecue.

"Huh?" 

"You heard me."

Lottie's gaze was empty, and Nat felt so deeply, utterly stupid. "Yeah, no— I heard you. But...what?"

She stared at her for a bit, waiting.

Nat huffed, palms up. "No, mom, I don't have anything to fucking tell you. Jesus."

Lottie didn't offer any explanation as she nodded and walked toward the door. "Okay," was all she said.

Alright, now she was just pissing Nat off.

She stepped in front of the door, blocking Lottie's path. "No, you don't leave like that." Lottie rolled her eyes at her. "You've been giving me shit all day, you slam my locker, drag me in here— and you're not even gonna tell me why?"

"I think you know why."

"Think again."

She held her breath until Lottie resumed her position with a long sigh.

"Spit it out," Nat insisted.

So Lottie did. "You told her," she bit out.

A beat.

And another.

What?

"What?" Nat frowned. "I told who? What?"

"Camila!" Lottie snapped, arms shooting off to her sides. "You fucking told Camila about the pills!"

That answered one question, but brought up a million more. "Alright, what the fuck are you talking about?" Nat managed.

Lottie was breathing fast, labored. She paced in the narrow closet. "She knows— somebody told her and it's all a fucking mess!" Her voice cracked, and she bore glassy eyes into Nat's. "You— you promised you wouldn't!"

"I didn't!"

Nat couldn't help the strain in her throat. She didn't understand what was happening, and Lottie looked at her with such hate and hurt in her eyes. She didn't think she had ever been looked at like that.

"You're the only one who knows, Nat! I lock that cabinet since you found them, she couldn't have seen them!" Lottie held back a whimper, breathed deeply in, then out. "Why— Why would you do that to me?"

Nat made sure to jut her chin out with each word she spoke. To say it clearly. To try to make her understand. "Lottie, I didn't."

Lottie shook her head, lowering it to let the tears fall. Nat approached her, wary, like she wasn't allowed to.

"I swear," she told her.

Lottie dried her tears, gathered herself. When she looked back up, it was with that nothingness on her face again.

"I don't believe you."

***

The phone rang for the seventh time that night.

First one to call was Jackie.

"Hey! Where are we picking you up today?" 

Nat rolled on the bed, wiping drool off her chin. "Ugh…what?"

"Did you just wake up?" Nat could hear Jackie's frown. "Nat, it's eight PM."

She yawned. "Took a nap."

Truth was, she had smoked two joints by herself the night prior and had a pretty bad trip. Her head hadn’t been in the right place. She couldn't fall asleep until the sun was up.

"Power nap, I hope. Get your ass up. We're leaving in an hour."

Nat sat up on the bed. Her head throbbed. "Where you headed?"

"You kiddin' me?"

She heard Shauna's voice somewhere around there, asking, "Is that Nat?"

"Hey, Shauna."

"Gimme!"

There was some rustling on the line.

"Naaaat!" she slurred. "You have to come to Lottie's tonight, pleease. "

Nat laughed as she listened to Jackie fight to get the phone back.

"Sorry about her. Mari's boyfriend is driving us tonight, so she got a little too excited about the pre-gaming."

"Shit," Nat chuckled. "She okay?"

"Yeah, just…happy." She hushed Shauna's drunken giggles. "Anyway, name a spot, we'll be there."

"Jackie—"

" Please , Nat," Jackie pouted, mimicking Shauna.

Nat shook her head. "I told you, I wasn't invited."

"But—"

"I'm not gonna crash Lottie's goddamn party! She doesn't want me there, she made that fucking clear."

"Did she say that?"

"She didn't have to."

Lottie had been a bitch ever since she decided Nat was to blame for Camila finding out about her medication —and taking it badly, Nat assumed.

For two weeks she wouldn't talk to her, not even to say hello, and if a bigger group was chatting and Nat joined, she would make up some excuse to leave. She could barely be in the same room as her. 

Not that Nat fell behind on the bitchiness, but at least hers made sense. Her former friend chose to believe her stupid girlfriend over her.

They had known each other for years. How long had she been with Camila? Like, six months, maybe?

And Nat trusted her with her fucking life. Even if they were fighting, she never would've betrayed her. She thought Lottie knew that.

Do you even like me? At all?

Whatever. For someone who talked such a big game about having been hers , Lottie clearly didn't know jack shit about her.

And then that fucking party, which Lottie made sure to tell everyone about. Everyone but her.

"If it helps, I don't think this is about you," Jackie theorized.

"Trust me, it is."

"I don't know." Jackie was quiet for a second. "She's been… off lately."

"Off how?"

"Can't explain, just kind of…I don't know." She changed the subject. "Is there anything I can say to get you to come?"

Nat smiled, not because there were, but it felt nice that Jackie —and a very drunk Shauna— wanted her there.

"Don't think so. Sorry."

Jackie sighed. "Okay, well…call if you change your mind."

Nat wouldn't.

She was heating up some leftover pasta when it rang for the second time.

"Nat! Nat–talie! Natty!"

"Shauna, give me the phone!"

Nat laughed, listened to the chase across Jackie's house. Shauna was fast, but eventually stumbled.

"Stop!" She struggled with Jackie. "I just wanna talk to her!"

"No! She doesn't want to— Ow! Don't bite me!" 

She heard Shauna's giggles before Jackie's difficult breathing.

"So sorry," she panted. "Still not coming?"

Nat grinned. "Goodbye, Jackie."

And they hung up.

The pasta tasted weird. Nat guessed the sauce had gone bad, so she made herself a grilled cheese.

About an hour had passed; the phone rang.

"Last chance," Jackie announced. 

"Goodbye, Jackie!"

"Fine!"

And they hung up.

It wasn't that Nat didn't want to go to Lottie's party. She definitely did. Anything beat rotting inside her house for what was left of her Saturday night.

But there was no way in hell she was going to. Lottie didn't wanna see her; she didn't want to see Lottie. End of story.

The fifth time the phone rang, it was around eleven PM.

Nat was in the shower, and she wasn't getting out to listen to Jackie's complaints —though she considered it; Shauna was funny when she was hammered.

The sixth one was soon after. Five minutes, tops.

Nat peeled the towel off her head and threw it on the bed. She let the phone ring while she looked for something to wear.

Her house was silent for two seconds after that call. Then, the last one rang.

Nat groaned. The sound wasn't making her headache any better.

She stomped over to the bed and answered.

"What?!"

Taissa's voice came through, gritty, wrapped in hollers, whoops, and music.

"Nat? You have to come here. There's something wrong with Lottie."

Chapter Text

Nat heard the howling, same one that had screeched through the phone, as she climbed the stairs to Lottie's front door.

Taissa wouldn't say what was wrong. She had told her it was bad and urgent, and those words strung in the same sentence as Lottie's name made Nat's head spin desperately.

She bribed Rick to drive her there, screamed at him every time he stopped at a red light. "There's no one fuckin' there! Just go! "

She stood at the doorway, just for a moment, to gaze at the place she once knew. It hadn't been long, but Nat and those walls had grown apart. She felt ridiculous, nostalgic for estranged bricks.

So she pushed the door open, followed the noise across the house with a known fever infecting her.

The place was strangely empty. Clear signs of a party were there —trampled plastic cups on the floor, along with several different liquids; less furniture than usual, music. 

Yet it was deserted. Hauntingly so. Nat felt like throwing up as the howling and cheers laced with the girls' dreadful screams.

She held her stomach, forcing her legs to take her there. They didn't want to. She didn't want to.

They got louder. Clearer.

"Yeah! Go, Lottie!"

"What the fuck?!"

"Holy shit!"

"Stop!"

"Wicked!"

"She won't dare!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Get the fuck down from there!"

Everyone was gathered around the pool. Some were drenched, and cold, but they wouldn't go back in the water. The only one still in there was Van, and Shauna was taking her clothes off.

All their heads pointed upwards. Some of them smiled or laughed. Some of them gasped, covered their mouths with their hands. Most egged her on.

But Nat knew something was wrong, because on her team's faces was nothing but despair.

She rushed closer to the horde, a scream dying in her throat as she turned and saw her.

Lottie, bottle in hand, laughed and swayed by the edge of the roof, peering down at the pool with weary eyes.

Her dress and her hair got swept by the wind —up, down, left, right— as she took one last swing of the bottle.

How had she gotten up there? How come nobody had stopped her? And why— why were they cheering her on?!

The water was too shallow. If she jumped from that height, she would surely crack her head open.

Lottie stretched her arm out, let the heavy glass plunge three floors down and into the pool.

The crowd quieted as it splashed, then continued their rally.

"Clock's ticking!"

"Let's go, gorgeous!"

"Just do it!"

Nat sought Camila out. That girl was permanently glued to Lottie's side —surely, she had to be around.

And she was, with a smile plastered on her face, standing amongst her and Lottie's friends. She watched her, excited, almost, with a trace of worry on her forehead.

She didn't say anything when they encouraged her. She didn't even move.

Nat felt like throwing up still.

"Nat!" Tai's voice called.

She was looking at Nat, pleading with her. Almost like she was commending something to her.

"Go!" she told her.

Lottie. She was trusting her with Lottie.

And Nat was no savior, she knew that as she climbed the stairs, skipping as many steps as she could. She never tried to be. She couldn't be. That was Lottie's shtick, not hers.

Her heart beat out of her chest. She kept her ears sharp for a splash, or a dull thud, like a body hitting grass, a skull splitting in half.

Breathing became panting, then sniffling, then slugged whimpers.

Lottie could die, she thought. She could die. She could trip. She could jump. She could miss the water. She could splatter on the ground. The dirt could soak up her blood until there wasn't any left.

Lottie could die.

"Lottie?!" she nearly cried as the spring breeze hit her.

And Lottie wasn't dead. She was dazed, and tipsy, and giggling like a maniac, but she was alive.

She raised her arms above her head, and Nat heard the clamoring downstairs grow.

"No, Lot—," she gulped, "Stop!"

Lottie turned her head around, traced by moonlight. Her white dress draped over her shoulders like a dreamy mistake. The world always seemed to spin around her; nature twisted and bent to fit her.

"Nat?"

She squinted, lowering her arms as she twirled fully toward her. Nat could finally breathe, seeing her take a step away from the edge.

Lottie sighed. A smile that almost looked detached from her face tugged at her lips. "I knew you'd come."

Her gaze wandered, lost. She was fighting to keep her eyes open.

"What the fuck," Nat puffed, as calmly as she could. "You're trashed."

Lottie laughed, truly —eyelids pressing shut, bending over, then tipping to the side.

Nat watched bare feet scrape the brink with fire inside her throat. She took quick, distressed steps closer to her.

"Get the fuck away from the edge, Lottie!" 

The girl raised her palm forward, ordering her to quit walking. Nat didn't know why, but she did. She couldn't risk Lottie trying to retreat and falling off the fucking roof.

"Relaaax," Lottie slurred. "It's fine, I'm fine. "

"You're not." Nat slithered forward, only a little, whenever Lottie's eyes strayed. 

"I am. Know what? I'm fucking awesome," she chuckled, walking along the edge. "I feel…clear."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Nat asked, slowly drawing nearer.

Lottie hid her face inside her hands. Nat took the chance to leap close enough to touch. She felt better knowing she was at an arm's distance from her. Just in case.

She threw her head back, brushed her fingers through her hair. A deep breath turned into fog.

"Like…like, the air…the woods, the trees, the water…it's all inside me, you know?"

She lifted her elbows over her head, then her hands, twirling her wrists.

"I can feel it. It's alive— it's talking . Can you hear it?"

Nat's stomach churned her black gunk. And it may have never left her, but she felt it too strongly then —a worm, creeping inside her. A bad feeling.

"No, Lottie, I can't hear the fucking trees ."

Lottie put her arms down, shoulders dropping as she faced her. "You're not listening."

She sounded disappointed that Nat wasn't playing along with her madness.

Cold hands clung to hers. Lottie pulled Nat in. "It's okay," she smiled.

Her palm moved to the back of her head, fingers curling over her hair. She pushed, gently, and touched their foreheads together.

Nat's breath hitched.

"I'll listen for the both of us," she whispered.

Alright. Nat'd had it. Lottie had been cruel to her for weeks, ignored and escaped her, and now she was fucking with her. Nudging her close —close like they weren't supposed to be. Saying weird shit.

She clawed her dress, right under her neck, so she wouldn't trip backward as Nat jerked away.

"What's wrong with you, huh?" She shook her a little, desperately trying to knock some sense back into her. "The fuck are you playing at? 'Cause it's not fuckin' funny, Lot."

She released the fabric, blinking tears away.

She had made her worry to death, drive across town like a psycho, all for a freak show.

And she was sick —sickened by her. Her head hurt, her chest hurt. She couldn't bear it anymore.

"You don't get it," Lottie sighed. She smiled sweetly as she grabbed Nat's face between her hands. "If I bleed, no one else has to," she told her.

And only for a second, Lottie sounded like herself. The girl who kept reaching out to Nat even when she treated her like shit. Who wouldn't give up her spot on the inhumane varsity team, happy to take the punches in everyone else's place. The one whose first instinct was to stand in the middle of a fight to stop it.

Someone else may have mistaken it for love. Nat didn't doubt Lottie carried her weight on love, that she had it to spare. But that wasn't love. That was a dark gunk sticking to her insides. That was hate.

Nat understood as Lottie let herself tilt back a bit too far, as white slipped through her fingers, as she watched her fall —no one knew how to hate herself like Lottie Matthews did.

***

The room was cold. Freezing, actually.

Nat doubted hospital rooms were permitted to be as cold as that one. Then again, maybe it was just her.

Wet clothes clung to her skin. As it turned out, dragging a person out of a pool was harder than she'd thought, especially when they were knocked out.

Her teeth grinding, she crossed her arms over her chest, curling up further into the tiny bedside chair. She considered touching Lottie's fingers to check if they were cold, guessing the pain meds were strong enough to keep her from waking up.

It took her a minute, a selfish one, because unassuming her position meant releasing whatever body heat she had gathered. 

Lottie's hand was warm. Those ugly beige blankets sure did their job. Nat slid her pointer across it, melting into soft and hot skin.

This Lottie felt alive, unlike the Lottie that kept tumbling to her death in Nat's head. Over and over she watched her fall off that roof, and the repetition didn't make the gut punch any easier.

Her fingers reached for her. They wrapped around her wrist, feeling her pulse thump against her palm.

She wanted to cry. She had wanted to cry since she got Tai's phone call, yet she found her eyes wouldn't shed more than a single, miserable tear each time. 

She rested her forehead on the bed, breathing in and out until the feeling got abated by the silence of that room.

"Nat?" Lottie called after a while, voice hoarse but sweet. 

Nat straightened up. "Hey," she smiled, resisting the urge to jump on the bed and hug her breathless.

Lottie looked around, realization dawning, face twisting. She peered down at her arm, wrapped in a cast. 

"Relax," Nat told her, shuffling to the edge of her seat. "You're fine. Your arm is broken, and you hit your head, but other than that…fine. Van caught you before you hit the bottom. I mean, most of you."

She tried to chuckle, pointing to the plaster.

Lottie barely reacted to that. She stared back at Nat, a tremble on her chin.

"The nurse called your parents. You're s'posed to stay here till they get back tomorrow."

Nat shot her some sort of smile. She didn't know what else she was supposed to do.

And Lottie kept looking at her, not saying a word.

"Lottie, hey," she said gently, tapping her safe arm. "You hear me? You're fine."

She turned to the table on Nat's left, where the nurse had left a bottle of Loxapine. 

Nat had put it together as soon as she saw it. She remembered what Lottie had told her back in November —bad shit happened when she didn't take those pills.

Still, she needed to know.

"You stopped taking 'em, huh?" Nat mumbled, pulling her hand back to play with her fingers.

Lottie sat up, eyes pressing shut at the effort. She sighed before daring to look at her.

"Say it wasn't 'cause of her."

She waited, but Lottie didn't speak.

Nat drew her lips to the side, sniffing back the anger. She couldn't fathom Camila at the time. After that night, she was sure she would never be able to look her in the eye again —if she was avoiding kicking her teeth back into her skull, that was.

"Fuck, Lottie," she breathed out, pinching her brow, head shaking.

How could she have done that? Camila wasn't worth it. Nobody would ever be worth that.

Nat was furious —at Camila, yes, but especially so, very furious at Lottie, for being so…well, so herself. For loving that asshole so deeply, for giving her all so easily. 

Lottie's gaze was unwavering on hers, tears gathering slowly. "I'm sorry," she uttered, voice cracking halfway.

"For what?"

Nat wasn't implying she shouldn't apologize, she was asking how far back her apology went.

Lottie shrugged, a sad chuckle trickling along with a tear. "All of it."

Nat lay back on the chair. "You believe me now?" 

"Of course."

She bobbed her head, feigning nonchalance. It hurt that Lottie hadn't trusted in the first place, but there was no point dwelling on it then.

"I miss you," Lottie whispered, still sounding like she only had half a mind in the real world.

Nat let the words tend to her, bubble warmly, only for a moment.

"You going back to her?" she asked.

Lottie's lips molded around words, but couldn't get any of them out.

Nat sighed.

Yeah. That was what she'd thought.

She stood up. She couldn't linger too long anyway —she wasn't really allowed in there. The nurses got distracted, and she snuck inside. But they would be coming back for a follow-up soon, she'd heard.

"Where are you going?" Lottie asked, her voice small.

Nat wanted to forget about the last few months, spin right back around and hug it all better. But that wouldn't have done them any good; hugging her wouldn't have changed them.

"Can't stay." She fixed her jacket, turned back to see her sitting on the bed like a lost puppy. "Imma wait outside 'til your parents get here, alright?"

Lottie nodded. Nat could tell she wanted to say something, but she bit her lip instead.

"And, uh…"

Nat already had a hand on the handle when she spat it out.

"She's hurting you, Lot. I don't—" She paused, pointlessly wiping her lips. "I'm not gonna stick around while you let her."

And she was out the door before her words had time to settle.

Her teeth chattered once more. She hugged herself as she walked through the hallway.

The waiting room was silent. It was almost dawn by then.

The girls were fast asleep, sprawled all over.

Tai and Van rested their heads on each other's shoulders. Van's arms were bruised from Lottie's impact, back at the pool. Nat didn't know how she'd managed to catch the last of her fall underwater without breaking an arm as well.

Jackie took up a row of chairs, lying down, head on Shauna's lap. Mari had Laura Lee's cardigan balled up on a table, making a forehead pillow. Laura Lee drifted off with her fingers around her cross, mid-prayer, probably.

Nat breathed it all in. She craved a pack of cigs to chain-smoke until the darkness inside of her was her own doing. But she hadn't grabbed any, of course, and she doubted a hospital was the right place to ask to bum one.

So she picked Jackie's legs off the corner seat and laid them on her thighs, told herself she could sleep it off as well.

***

They left for states the following week.

Lottie tagged along despite not being able to play. She was still team captain, after all —though she assigned an honorary leading spot to Taissa, who was happy to take over.

She had been quiet those past few days. Not her previous kind of quiet, when she ditched them all to go hang out with Camila. She was there before practice, with JV, and she was there after, in the circle as the conversation grew louder, smiling when she was supposed to.

Nat's eyes were helplessly drawn to her, like she was a damn magnet. She wanted to ask her about it, about that night. Maybe not even that. She just wanted to make sure she was doing okay. Lottie would lie to everyone else, but not to her. She knew that, if she asked, she would tell her the truth.

Except she didn't. She had promised herself she wouldn't, not as long as Camila was still in the picture.

And in the goddamn picture she was. An ugly picture. One of those old paintings of hate and bloodshed, with Lottie standing in the middle, smiling down at the sword stuck in her chest. And Nat just had to watch.

She watched Camila's hands stroke her hair, touch her when nobody else looked their way. She saw them leave school together, walking side by side, knuckles grazing. And she lived with it. She couldn't do shit about them anymore. 

She was done trying.

Jackie and Shauna kept her busy on the ride there, talking real strategy that time. She could tell Jackie cared about that game a lot, about the team, and making senior year perfect.

Shauna didn't, not as much at least, but she listened, more devoted to Jackie than soccer.

They didn't switch rooms when they were assigned. Nat stuck with Shauna, and Jackie gave her bed in her and Tai's room to Van.

Shauna and Nat pulled the mattresses off the twin-sized beds and pushed them together, right in front of the TV. Jackie brought candy from the vending machines in the lobby, and the three of them had a movie night.

The match was the next morning.

Lottie didn't come down for breakfast. Laura Lee told them she had said she wasn't hungry, which Nat didn't think was true, but she shook it off.

Tai and Van helped Lottie into a team jacket before the game, and Mari painted a yellowjacket on her cheek. 

She looked pretty, disheveled like she was. Her hair unbrushed, down to her waist, her bangs a bit wild. And a shy, loose smile on her lips. Her eyes gleamed, ever so thankful for the girls' kindness.

Nat had to will herself to look elsewhere more than once. She was putting her clothes on backwards, stumbling into people. Acting like a fucking idiot, really.

The only few hours she managed to focus on something other than Lottie were during the match.

She didn't want to fuck anything up for Jackie or Tai —or the whole team. She hadn't even smoked or had a drink beforehand.

It made her anxious. The world seemed so much faster, unmanageable, when she was sober. But it turned out alright. More than alright, actually.

With two minutes left on the clock, she racked up their third goal, leaving the score three to one.

They'd won already, she knew as the girls' screams roared. Better screams than she'd heard before. Happy ones, squeals and cheers.

Her focus broke then. As soon as the ball hit the net, and the whistle blew, the only person Nat could think of was Lottie.

Lottie, standing on the sidelines, free hand over the widest grin.

They looked at each other. Nat panted, breathing out smile after smile. All she wanted to do was celebrate with her. Run up to her. Knock her to the ground with a hug.

So she did. Nothing left to lose, right?

She dashed across the field to the touchline. Lottie's yelp mixed with a cackle as Nat threw arms and legs around her, crashing into her.

They tumbled to the grass. Nat made sure to soften the fall with her hands a bit. Last thing Lottie needed was another concussion.

Lottie groaned under her, bursting into another fit of laughter immediately. 

Nat felt Lottie's stomach shake, her smile against her hair. She held onto her tightly, and Lottie did the same. Their hearts beat into each other's chests.

They heard the girls' stomps as they neared them.

"Watch the arm!" Nat warned them before they began piling on top of them.

Lottie lay it on the grass above her head as a precaution.

One after another, the team jumped on Nat's back. And she complained, and she laughed, and she nuzzled further into Lottie, as if it would keep her from suffocating.

They stayed there, with Lottie's arm around her waist, hers around her neck, for as long as it took their sweat to cool and the mud on their boots to dry.

Lottie broke up with Camila the next day.

Chapter Text

The first day of summer break, Jackie invited the entire soon-to-be senior class to a pool party.

Nat paled as she got handed her special invitation —the girls were expected earlier than everyone else, which wasn't the same as Jeff asking them to help push furniture. Coming from Jackie, it just meant she wanted to spend more time with them, a perfectly curated playlist, and pre–party gossip.

For Nat, the whole thing meant full–body shaving, wearing a bikini in front of her classmates, and long hours under the sun, a kind of exposure her skin was not accustomed to.

She didn't like swimming. She didn't sunbathe. Ever. And she hated soft–drink kinda parties.

So she wasn't feeling too hot as she sat on the edge of the table Jackie's parents had set up before leaving, in spite of the rays making her bare back drip.

They had pizza, chips, cake, and all kinds of chocolate–covered fruit laid out in front of them. The girls dug in as they talked; conversations slipped into each other. Nat tried to join in, or at least listen, but the heat took up most of her senses. 

"What about you, Nat?" she heard suddenly, and her eyes squinted in Van's direction.

"What?" she mumbled.

Van chuckled at her, snapped her fingers close to her face. Nat swatted her hand away.

"What's your list?" Tai asked.

Mari seemed to notice Nat's frown growing. "Like, your summer list."

"Yeah, what do you wanna do?" Shauna added, reaching for a slice of watermelon.

Nat shrugged. Besides the little weed business, she didn't have any big summer goal list. She wasn't a planner. 

"Uh, I don't know," she mumbled again. Her mouth was dry. She grabbed her glass of lemonade. "Why's it matter?"

" Hello?" Jackie rolled her eyes with a smile. "It's the last summer before college. Like, our last real break, y'know?"

Nat didn't think she would even be able to go to college. Her mom didn't have any savings, and she sure as hell wasn't going to drown the next forty years of her life in student loans.

She'd figure it out. Or not.

"Just…shows," she answered, because she knew she had to say something. "Go to a bunch of 'em."

It wasn't entirely untrue, she simply skipped the part where she explained how she got the money to go to all those concerts.

"Cool," Van nodded, and they moved on.

Nat sipped her lemonade, looked up to find Lottie's eyes from the other end of the table. She smiled at her, just a bit, and Nat smiled back, forgetting the drink in the midst of it. She wiped the liquid off her chin, shied her gaze away.

Lottie and her had been…odd. It wasn't like before, the tension and avoidance. The fight was over, they both knew. But they couldn't get back to normal, that didn't feel possible anymore. And they had barely even talked since states; Nat couldn't figure out where they stood.

"Lot?" Van called.

The round of summer plans continued.

"Hm?" She seemed puzzled for a second. Nat was certain she had only just stopped watching her. "Oh, uhm, get this thing off, first."

She chuckled, shook the cast on her arm a little. It had scribbles all over it, mostly the team's signatures, one or two drawings from Van, a quote from Laura Lee.

They had been gathered throughout their last JV practices. The girls would swarm Lottie in the locker room. Nat hadn't dared ask, and Lottie hadn't either. So Nat's name wasn't on there, as much as she wanted it to be.

"And I think my parents are planning a trip to the beach," Lottie said.

Nat tried not to react to that. 

Did that mean she would go with them? Which beach, exactly? When would that be? How long would she be gone for?

She didn't ask, of course, but she wished hard one of the other girls would.

"Love it," Tai said, then trapped a few cherries inside her mouth. "I miss the beach. Haven't gone in, like, years."

"Same," Jackie pouted.

And the conversation got lost in goddamn beach anecdotes. Nat willed it to bend back into Lottie's trip, get something on that, but it didn't. She bit down on the rim of her cup for another half an hour.

People started to arrive around four–ish. Soon, Jackie's house was packed, the water splashed from the pool onto the deck, and Nat stood on the furthest edge of it all, under the shade of a white awning.

She watched Jackie as she greeted everyone, made small talk, told them where they could leave their bags, and pointed to the snacks table. You would've thought she was born for it.

Nat was in need of some harder drinks than pop. She had a flask in her bag, the one she dragged around just in case. And this was a case, definitely.

She dug it out from the pile of jean jackets and backpacks on Jackie's living room couch, hurried to the kitchen to pour herself anything fizzy.

Lottie stood by the island. Tall. Tan. In a purple bikini. Unaware she was compromising Nat's secrecy.

She straightened up as Nat walked in, stopped by the doorframe. "Hi," she smiled.

Nat pretended not to consider walking right out, both for the sake of her plans and her social incompetence.

She ducked her head as she walked up to the refrigerator. "Hey," she rasped out, cleared her throat.

Thankful for the fridge door cloaking her, she left it open a minute too long. Pressed her eyes shut tight, begged her head to clear. To stop spinning.

Was it the heat? Was it her? It couldn't just be Lottie. That would be insane, and cliche, the whole dizzy ordeal, and—

"Uh, I think Jackie put all the drinks out," Lottie told her.

Nat wasn't even looking inside; she didn't know whether Lottie was correct or not as she swung the door closed.

"Right," she breathed out, spun on her heels to face her. She waited out the second of scrutiny in which Lottie found the flask in her hand. "So…the beach, huh?" she deflected.

"Maybe." Lottie bobbed her head, then did some awkward pointing. "Concerts?"

"Maybe."

Nat neared a counter, dropped the weight of the moment on it. She held the flask behind her, though there wasn't much left to hide.

"When's that off?" she asked Lottie's arm.

"Two weeks."

Then Nat was bobbing her head. "Cool."

She pushed herself up on the counter, sat with her ankles crossed and her back against the wall, looking around for nothing in particular.

And she thought about how two weeks wasn't very long. How break wasn't very long at all. How she probably wouldn't see Lottie much. And summer would slip through their fingers. Like sand. Like the stupid sand at the stupid beach Lottie would leave her for.

Well, she wasn't leaving her . She was just leaving. But the slipping would happen either way, like it always did with them.

Yet here she was, acting like an idiot, pretending she wanted nothing to do with her.

"You, uh…" Lottie trailed off.

Only then did Nat notice she had been glaring at her arm.

She snapped her eyes up, followed Lottie as she stepped around the kitchen island, closer —close to her.

Her chest pushed her further against the wall, curling up, like the proximity was sucking the air out of her.

Nat snuffed, brought a knee up to cover for her lack of spine.

And Lottie stood before her, offering a black marker. "You haven't signed it," she said.

Nat stared at her. Closer than she had been since states. At her eyes. At the marker. Then back at her eyes.

"You're the only one who hasn't," Lottie breathed out, fingers getting shaky.

Nat tried to breathe, straighten up, some sort of cough leaving her. Jesus. What was wrong with her? 

This was what she wanted. And she was being a freak about it.

"Yeah," she mumbled, desperate to be quick enough, like Lottie might've taken it back. "Uh, I thought," she cleared her throat, scratched the back of her neck, "thought it was full."

Lottie flipped it as far as it would go. Showed her a blank space right by her elbow —a big one.

"Saved me a spot?" Nat joked, managing to act her usual self for a split second.

Problem was, Lottie didn't quip back. She chuckled, breathy, the skin on her chest getting darker. And her shoulders. And her face.

Shit. She was flushing. 'Cause she did save her a spot. Because of course she did.

Her hand was retrieving. Nat snatched the marker before it could, wrapped a leg around Lottie's until her hips hit the edge of the counter.

She hunched over Lottie's arm, biting the cap off. "What'd'I write?" she asked her through it.

It took Lottie a long second and a giggle to respond. "Whatever you want."

Nat wanted to be annoyed at her for being so damn unhelpful. This was very important. She had to think it through.

But Lottie's cheeks were still reddened, and her other hand lay just beside Nat's bare thigh — oh , right. Neither of them were wearing many clothes at all, so her knees were touching the sides of her legs, and everywhere their arms brushed was warm skin, and—

She looked away.

Wrote her name quickly.

Scratched a line under it for some dazzle.

Nat, the cast read back to her.

Whatever. So it wasn't a fucking poem or some shit. Who cared?

Somewhere, Nat cared. She was angry she couldn't quote something intricate like Laura Lee, or draw a thousand hearts like Mari's, or tell Lottie she was cool and pretty, like the freshmen.

With words, she was a desert. Dry and hot, and she was heaving in it.

"Why's it empty here?" Nat got out, the cap between her teeth still.

She pointed to a spot above Lottie's elbow, on the back of her arm. Lottie twisted her neck until she couldn't anymore, and her eyes still couldn't find it.

"Uh, because I can't see there, I guess," she strained.

Nat smiled. A question popped into her head. Then an answer. One she couldn't give before.

She could then. Finally, she could.

"Turn," she told Lottie, not waiting for her to comply as she spun her around.

She leaned forward, scribbled furiously on the blind spot.

And she smiled when she saw it.

I do.

It wasn't much, but it was almost everything.

Maybe flowers could grow in the desert. Small ones. Sometimes.

"What does it say?" Lottie asked, coiling and weaving her best to read it, to no avail.

Nat capped the marker, sucked air in through her teeth. "Gonna have to wait those two weeks and see," she said, trying not to look too pleased with herself.

And, well, perhaps Lottie wouldn't even understand. She would read it and frown. Maybe she'd forgotten she had ever asked.

But it was enough for Nat. To get it out of her. To look at Lottie as she was, clueless, smiling, cursing her under those pearly whites of hers.

"Dick," she said, plucking the pen from Nat's hand, walking to throw it into a drawer.

"Yeah, yeah," Nat chuckled as she watched her, all toned legs and hair down to the hem of her bikini bottom.

Two weeks felt like a deadly long wait then.

***

Lottie called her the next morning.

At nine fucking AM.

Nat wasn't human until at least noon on a summer break's Sunday. She doubted anyone except Lottie Matthews and the Pope was.

"What?" she grunted into the phone, wiping drool off her chin.

"It's Lottie," she said, like it changed something.

Nat sniffed. "It's nine."

"Nine's not that late."

"It's Sunday."

Lottie chuckled, then feigned hurt. "So you're not coming to church today?"

"M'kay. Funny. Hanging up."

She wasn't, not really, but she enjoyed how Lottie stumbled over several No's to stop her.

"What?" she grunted again.

"I have the house to myself," Lottie said, sounding like she was doing jazz hands.

"Interesting. In, uh, ten hours, minimum."

"Come on!" Lottie insisted. "We have the pool. Well, you do."

"I don't swim."

Not ever. Especially not at nine AM. On a Sunday.

"Right. Uhm, we…have a shit ton of food."

Nat groaned, "Lottie—"

"Fine, we have cocaine to snort."

She rubbed her eyes until the back of them turned white. "What? Are you serious?" she mumbled.

Lottie laughed. "No."

"What the fuck?"

"But, uh…" Lottie held the thought a second, smacked her lips. "We have the car."

"What car?"

"Mine."

Alright. That woke Nat the fuck up.

"What?" she asked, confused at first.

Lottie gave her a beat.

"What?!" Nat gasped. She brushed the hairs that stuck to her tongue away from her face. "No. They didn't."

"They did," Lottie smiled through the phone.

"Shit!" she grinned, knees buckling until she was curled up, crouching on her bedroom floor, hand on her mouth so she wouldn't scream and wake her mom up. "You got a fuckin' car!" she hissed into the line.

"Yes, very thoughtful gift considering I'm an arm down and don't even know how to drive. I think my dad got a deal or something."

Nat wanted to feel bad for her. Her parents sucked. But, shit, she couldn't —she got a whole fucking car out of it.

"I'll teach you," Nat offered immediately.

Sure, she wasn't great, but she loved driving. Rick had let her drive his truck once —and never again, given she blasted "only shallow" and sped down an open road for the length of it.

"Yeah, right," Lottie snorted.

Nat regretted telling her that story.

"I don't even wanna learn. I don't like driving. Or cars."

Nat knelt on the floor, pressed her eyes shut. "Lottie," was all she had to say, in a voice so pained, you would've thought she was agonizing.

"You can drive it."

"Yes!" Nat shouted, throwing her head back, then covered her mouth again. 

" If you come over before eleven."

The weight of the early morning hit her at once. She huffed.

"I'm bored," Lottie went on, stretching the words until Nat caved.

"Fine, fine."

She picked herself back up lazily, gathered the first band tee and shorts her eyes focused on.

"Tai and Van are coming too, by the way. See ya'!" Lottie added quickly and hung up.

Nat was left with an insult on the tip of her tongue and a question on the back of her head.

How did Lottie always manage to get her way with her?

***

"Slow the fuck down, Natalie!" Tai shouted at the back of her head.

"Stop backseat driving and have some fun, dammit!"

She chuckled along with Van, who stuck her tongue out, half her body out the window.

"It's not backseat driving if the front–seat driver is going to kill us !"

Nat couldn't help it. The Supra slid heavenly across the field, a few miles past Lottie's house. Edge of nowhere type of place.

And, hey, at least Van was having a good time.

Tai had a hand gripping her shorts, nearly pulling them down to her boxers. She held her into place better than any seatbelt could.

"Natalie!" she scolded her.

"Taissa!" Nat mocked.

She took a sharp turn that knocked Van back inside the car, testing whether that would calm Tai down. 

Van cackled, body sprawled on Tai's, who picked her up like a dismembered toy. They hissed back and forth until Van was nodding sheepishly, clicking her seatbelt on.

She pulled a face through the rearview mirror; Nat shot her an accomplice grin.

Tai scoffed. "I see that!"

And Nat slammed her boot on the pedal again, shoved her complaints back inside her throat.

Van howled out the window, though she stayed in place that time, seatbelt on. Tai slapped Nat's shoulder, but she barely even felt it.

The wind blew her hair back, strong enough for her lips to quiver. And her stomach itched so thrillingly. All she could hear was the engine, Van's voice, and her heartbeat.

Her eyes drifted to her right, only for a second. Lottie was very quiet, very still, looking a sickly green on the seat next to hers.

Nat's smile faltered at the sight.

Lottie had been very clear: she had half an hour to do whatever the fuck she wanted, no more, no less.

Technically, Nat was within bounds. She had asked her several times, a smile unyielding on her face. "Are you sure?" she voiced over and over.

Every time, Lottie had said yes.

It was clear she wouldn't have any fun with it, but she wouldn't stop Nat from enjoying herself.

However, it was impossible to ignore as she sat there, holding back a panic attack —possibly. Either that or vomit.

The car came to an abrupt halt, whipped them forward, rammed them back.

Dust clouded their surroundings. Nat watched Lottie begin to breathe again.

"I'm done," she announced.

Lottie swallowed hard, checked the clock. "You still have time."

Nat knew.

She slipped out of the car, hearing Tai do the same behind her. And she circled the front to Lottie's spot.

The high still sweet on her tongue, she opened her door, grabbed her jaw in her hand, and pressed her lips deep into her side. She smacked the kiss on her cheek, as close to the corner of her mouth as she allowed herself to get.

Nat sounded it out as she pulled away. As Lottie turned a deep red in front of her. As Tai angrily occupied the driver's seat.

"You're the fuckin' bomb, know that?" she smiled —crooked, dizzy— at her.

"Yeah, I fucking know," Lottie sighed, shaking her head, fighting back a grin. And she pushed her, gently, so she could close the door.

Nat stretched her arms above her head. She had to shiver the rush off her shoulders.

She slid into the backseat, drummed her hands on Van's arm. "What now?" she asked the front.

"I'm driving us back at a regular speed," Tai glared at her.

"Fine by me."

***

Van got a job at the video rental up at High Ridge Avenue. Nice place. Not too far from the trailer park, since Van's neighborhood wasn't either.

Her house was in a better area, sure, but not by much. On the grand scheme of Wiskayok —which wasn't very grand at all— they ranked the same. The lowest of the low.

Only Van didn't look it, like Nat did. Or act like it. She was brighter than the rest of them, the type of light that shined in spite of a blackout. Nat had gotten comfortable in her dark corner, somewhere nobody dared look at.

She liked to stop by when she had nothing better to do. Bother her for a while. Mess up the shelves. Chat, then shut her mouth when the bell above the door chimed.

"God forbid you ever be kind, rewind , Dale!" Nat heard Van groan in the backroom. 

She wasn't allowed to go in there. Van said the boss would lose it if he caught her. Nat believed her —she'd seen him around, muttering to himself, looking the psycho killer type.

A copy of Casper flopped in her hands, carelessly tweaked from New Releases. 

There was a familiar face or two on the cover. Nat recalled digging the girl in those Addams Family movies.

"Hey!" she barked for Van, so she'd roll out in her desk chair.

She popped a red Charms out of her mouth. "Which one?" 

Nat held it up for her to see. "You think Lottie's into this crap?"

"It's not bad."

"It's a kid's movie."

Van liked kid's movies, so she shrugged. "Fine, then, no."

And she rolled out of sight.

Nat frowned, stood up, but couldn't find her. "Hey! Why not?" 

"'Cause Lottie doesn't like movies!" she barked back.

Well, duh. Nat knew that. She had seen Lottie fall asleep watching pretty much anything a TV had to offer.

Still, it was Lottie that had asked Nat over for a movie night. Told her to rent one.

And she swore she wouldn't fall asleep that time, so here Nat was.

"Whatever! Is it good or not?"

Van walked out that time, leaned against the counter. "It's a kid's movie," she sighed.

"Where's the complaints book, actually? 'Cause I got a few of 'em," Nat jeered, pulling a few bucks out of the pocket of her shorts.

"Right…" Van probed under the counter, "...here," she told her, stuck up her middle finger.

Nat dropped crumpled dollars in front of her.

Van picked them up, chary. "Be kind, rewind," she winked.

Nat flipped her off as she walked out the door, bell chiming behind her.

***

Lottie got bored within the first twenty minutes of the movie, like Nat knew she would.

She put up with her tentative glances. Lottie probably thought she was sly, eyes tossing from the TV to the side of Nat's face. She wasn't.

Nat could see her knee bouncing. Felt the mattress sink beside her as Lottie shifted positions every minute.

She crossed her arms and bit back a smile, waited for her to cave in or drift off.

"Are you hungry?" she asked quietly, out of the blue.

"Nope," Nat shrugged, avoiding her eyes. Trying not to laugh.

Lottie turned back to the screen. Then back to her. "Thirsty?" she insisted.

"Sh. Watch," Nat scolded her, nodded toward that dumb ghost, like she gave a damn.

So Lottie tried to glue her eyes to the TV —for, maybe, five minutes.

"I'm gonna get something to drink," she announced, pushing herself up.

Nat let a long-awaited laugh out, curled her fingers around the waistband of Lottie's pink striped pajamas to keep her in place.

Lottie bounced back on the bed, knowing she was losing an unspoken bet.

"Lottie?" Nat asked, her voice sickly sweet.

"What? I'm awake," she tried to defend herself.

"You're bored!" Nat lay on her side, elbow propping her torso up, so Lottie did the same. "Why'd you plan this stupid thing, anyway? You hate this."

"I don't hate it."

Lottie rolled her eyes, head dropping forward. She folded until her hair was jumbled around her neck and her head was on her pillow.

Nat tidied her, dark strand after another, chuckling a bit.

Lottie peered up at her. "Just…whatever, I just wanted you to sleep over," she got out like she was in a hurry.

Or embarrassed.

Definitely embarrassed, judging by the way her mouth opened, then puffed the air out.

It made Nat's stomach flutter, only a little —she wasn't, like, swooning or some shit. But it was nice. How badly Lottie wanted her around all the time. Like she couldn't get enough of her. Nat would've thought she'd get sick of seeing her every single day.

She lowered herself toward her, to whisper for no reason in particular. "Next time, just ask, weirdo," she told her, biting her tongue, a laugh seeping through.

Lottie pressed her eyes shut, scrunched her whole face, how Nat liked.

She tapped her forehead, tried to make the creases yield. And the tap turned into sliding, brushing a finger down the bridge of Lottie's nose.

And a finger became her entire palm, cupping Lottie's jaw. Her thumb skimming just under the spot a lower lip pouted.

Lottie watched her. Still. Not like she had been in the car —stiff, holding back. Her eyes were half–shut. She settled under the touch. Willed it, even.

It was mesmerizing to see her so calm, at a time, a moment she shouldn't be. This granted the freakout she had spent already.

So, when Nat spoke, she did so quietly. Trying not to pop the bubble around them.

"You can sleep. I won't tell," Nat teased.

Lottie giggled. Her hands strayed up her t–shirt, tugged it until she was lying down in front of her. Their knees dashed against the other's, so their legs tangled.

And Nat let it happen. Kept just enough space between them for their breath to mix but their noses not to touch. 

The two of them toed that line often enough for it to be difficult. A distance that should be easy, common, was harrowing.

They had to hold back, even if there was no logical reason to. Maybe Nat knew, even then, that giving into her, falling, would mean cracking her skull, eventually.

Maybe she always knew.

So, that night, she kept track of the blurred lines. Tried to follow them until her eyes shut, and Lottie's steady breathing lulled her.

Perhaps she could've changed something, saved herself, had she stayed there. Waited for the lines to come back into focus. Perhaps not.

She would never know that.

***

The night after Lottie was to get her cast removed, her friends —her other friends, the social–class–bound ones— hosted a party for her.

Up by the cul-de-sacs. Of course. They all lived there. Every single one.

At least it meant fairy lights, free beer, and half a ride for Nat.

Shauna and Jackie picked Van and her up after work. Tai handed Van a bundle of clothing when they did, so the ride there was mostly back-and-forth curses caused by Van's limbs slapping and kicking everything —but especially Nat— around her.

Changing inside a car? Bad idea. 

Ham–handed Van Palmer changing inside a car? Horrible idea.

Nat even had to pull her cargo shorts up at some point, given she couldn't reach them.

Horrible fuckin' idea.

But it kept her mind from spiraling around the date. Cast removal day. 

She'd barely slept the night prior thinking about it. Would Lottie remember to check? Would she understand?

Her stomach knotted; she was nauseous, and she hadn't even had anything to drink.

Maybe she shouldn't have written that shitty confession. Now her mind was clearer about it, less excited, not as sunstroke, she realized it was probably lame.

She should've worked up the courage to tell her in person.

Then she waved it off. Who was she kidding? She couldn't do that. She wasn't able to before. Such a coward, she was.

And she was doing so good at keeping Lottie and her from blowing up so far. Having fun. Not bursting into flames. She couldn't afford to lose that.

Last time was supposed to be just that. The last time. 

They couldn't survive another wildfire.

As she climbed out of that car, caught her breath, she'd almost forgotten all about it. 

Almost.

Taissa brushed her hands through Van's hair, tidied her up. Jackie zipped up Shauna's dress properly. Then Shauna fixed the necklace around Jackie's neck. They'd all formed a weird grooming circle; Nat watched, nearly creeped out.

Van's knees bounced; she wanted to dunk herself into that party. And so did Nat.

"Can you hurry up ?" Nat groaned, throwing her head back.

"Calm down, Natalie," Jackie scolded her.

"Yeah, we can't all be as naturally beautiful as you," Van sang, joining in just for the joke.

Nat resisted the urge to flip her off. Waited for Van to walk past her to trip her.

She caught herself, stumbling forward awkwardly, then trapped Nat's neck under her armpit. Locked it there. Scraped her knuckles against the top of her head.

"Alright, you two," Tai sighed, making no effort to split them up.

Nat elbowed Van's stomach; she fell back, hands holding where Nat struck.

"Bitch," Van grumbled.

And they walked toward the voices, noise, and music. 

Lottie’s friends were in their usual circle, some leaning against a jeep. Nat was certain they'd parked the car there just for this. Sitting on it. Showing it off.

The girls walked past them, waved hello. Van didn’t; she nodded her head. Nat wanted to do the same.

Yet, she swallowed her pride, walked up to Jace —she disliked him the least; a total lack of interest in the female gender scored him a point in Nat’s book. At least he wouldn’t make gross comments. Or have gross thoughts in general.

“Hey, uh, is Lottie here?” she asked him, mumbly. Only way she talked to those people was through grinding teeth.

He looked her up and down. Her fishnet stockings, mesh top over a red bra, jean shorts, the usual combat boots. Judged her —sure felt that way for Nat. 

“Who’s asking?” the girl in his arm chuckled on the low.

Bitch.

She knew damn well who Nat was.

“Bite me,” she muttered, but she heard. Rolled her eyes.

Whatever.

Nat was ready to stomp away when Jace spoke. “She’s…oh— she’s here!” he smiled, eyes further behind Nat.

She followed them to six feet of brown, pink, and purple. No cast anywhere to be seen.

And Nat smiled. Foolish. Enthralled.

Forgot all about the thing as she watched her walk closer, wearing adorably inappropriate heels for a party in the woods.

Lottie received the hugs, kisses, fist–bumps that surrounded her. Put up with them. It wasn’t like her —painfully nice, that was. She looked like she was walking through paparazzi or some shit.

It was funny. Made Nat chuckle. Thinking of Lottie as a Wiskayok it girl. She sort of was, Nat thought. Especially after the pool thing —everyone and their mother had heard about it. That town was too small for its own good.

And Wiskayok’s it girl strode straight to her. 

She froze, briefly, right in front of Nat. “Hi,” she breathed.

Nat swayed in place, hands in her pockets. “Hey.”

Without wasting a second, Lottie grabbed her arm, made her stagger backward.

Once she got a handle on her footing —Lottie dragging her somewhere deeper into the woods— Nat looked back at the girl. Simpered.

“What? No hi for me?” Jace shouted after Lottie, half a smirk on his lips.

“I’ll just be a second!” Lottie said back.

Nat’s boot got caught in an overgrown root. She opted to watch the ground instead of gloating. 

“Uh, Lot?” she managed, treading away from the lights at Lottie’s unspoken demand. “Where are we—”

Lottie rammed her back against the trunk of a tree. Hard. Knocked the air out of her.

Her hands flew out of her pockets. Eyes widened.

“What the—”

And Lottie's lips pressed against hers. Again, hard. Teeth clashing, even.

Nat didn’t mind this time. She didn’t mind at all.

Whatever coherent train of thought she followed, it went up in flames —along with her fingers, and the pit of her stomach, and the leaves surrounding them. 

Fire. Everywhere.

Lottie was the one to pull away, quickly, like that first time in the locker room. 

For a moment, Nat worried she wouldn’t come back. Just like that time.

But her hand was clawing Nat’s top, nails ripping holes through the mesh. And she didn’t move away, not entirely. Just to look at her as she panted.

“Say it.”

Her eyes were dark —darker than usual, with only the moon to light them. Hungry, too. Nat could see it, even deep in the shadows.

“Say it,” Lottie repeated. So invitingly desperate.

Her hand kept pressing Nat deeper into the wood. She didn’t think Lottie even noticed she was doing it.

“Say what?” Nat asked, breathless. Unaware as to why she was panting as heavily as she was.

Lottie exhaled shakily. Brushed their noses together, as if tempting her. And she did. Nat chased after the air between them.

But Lottie dipped her chin, pushed her forehead against Nat’s until the back of her head hit the tree.

Her quick breaths coated Nat’s tongue. “Just…swear you mean it,” she whispered.

Nat tried to understand. She truly did. It was just difficult to focus with her so close.

Hard to talk, too.

“I…mean what ?” 

“Nat,” Lottie begged.

So she stopped her head from twitching, her attempts to trap Lottie’s lips. She tried to think.

Swear you mean it.

Spoken so cautiously. Like the alternative would be a bullet through the chest.

Oh.

Nat’s hands left her sides. They stroked Lottie’s cheeks, gentler than the other girl, for once. She nudged her back, slowly, until she could look her in the eye.

A smile stretched her mouth. “I fuckin’ like you, Lot,” she told her.

And the weight of her whole body fell against Nat. Lottie kissed her, finally, she did. 

Properly, too. Not like she was trying to crush her.

Nat had to wipe her smile to kiss her back. It wasn’t easy —she wanted to grin as wide as her skin allowed her to, tell Lottie how insanely consumed by her she was until she had no option but to shut her up.

One of those she could do.

“I swear,” she gasped when Lottie let her. 

It got a sweet whine out of her, ending up deeper inside Nat’s mouth.

Lottie’s hand gave up the mesh, moved to Nat’s waist. Nat curled her fingers around brown waves, the back of her neck.

And she said it, over and over, with whatever air she could manage to catch.

“I like you.”

And each time, it drove Lottie a little wilder. Breathier. Impossibly closer, but she tried —thigh between Nat’s legs, knee digging into wood, arms holding her hips against hers, she tried.

They didn't go back to the party, not for a long while.

Not until they simply had to part, out of breath, gasping into each other’s mouths.

Especially not after Lottie spoke.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she said.

And Nat was so busy fixing her eyes on her lips. Feeling her hands on her waist, through her top —which was surely ruined. Torn against the bark of the tree, holes where Lottie’s nails had stabbed it. But she liked it, the thought of going back out there with it shredded. See the looks on people’s faces.

They would never guess. None of them thought of her as worthy of a girl like Lottie —not to mention she was a girl, and it was the nineties. They’d just assumed she’d gotten her brains fucked out by some guy, or given some sort of extreme blowjob.

Too much was going through her head, going up in flames, for her to be able to hear Lottie properly.

“What?” she panted, wishing they’d just gotten back to it. Not a single word.

Not those ones, at least.

Lottie distanced herself, only a little, until the distant fairy lights reached the sides of her face. “The trip— my parents’ trip. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

Her hands remained strong on Nat’s waist, gripping more than resting. Squeezing the curve of her hips. 

It made it really hard for Nat to think.

“I— I wanted to tell you, there was just…” she gasped, and chuckled bitterly, and Nat could see all the ways her face scrunched and stretched under those damn lights. “We were having fun and there was never a good time and—”

“How long?” she cut her off. She didn’t care that Lottie hadn’t told her, not right then. There was far more important bad news to receive.

“A month.”

“A month ?!”

Nat meant to push, or kick —something that would get it out of her. That feeling spreading across her palms. Sand was beginning to feel an awful lot like gasoline. 

Instead, she ended up shaking Lottie a bit, as she cupped her face and brought her in. Her forehead against hers once more.

“What the fuck?” she whispered, but she couldn’t even manage to be angry at her anymore.

She just wished they could stay there, freeze, forever, maybe. Press some button that would keep time from going forward. The sand from slipping.

Nat realized that it was getting to be too much. She saw the smoke in the distance, grey, black, dreadful. She was giving into it, choosing to look away —and how could she not?

Lottie’s thumbs were drawing circles on her sides, then digging to press her closer. There was no closer. They were weaved into each other.

“Don’t go,” was what left Nat’s lips. A joke. Not a funny one, she just didn’t mean what she was saying. Her mouth moved without her consent.

Lottie didn’t seem to catch that. “Okay,” she said. Simple. Short. Quick.

That time, Nat was the one to pull back. Look into her eyes, which sunk to Nat’s lips, then back up. Once, twice. Half shut. 

“ Okay? ” Nat echoed, so very confused.

Lottie leaned in, sucking in a mouthful of air. “Uh–huh.”

And she kissed her. And Nat kissed back, too slow to figure out she hadn’t gotten an answer.

Jesus, she really needed some kinda hold on herself.

Her hands fought against Lottie’s collarbones —weakly, because she missed the weight of her body as soon as it left her. She flipped them over. Tried for a clear mind now that she wasn’t being towered over.

“The fuck you mean ‘ okay’ ?” she asked her, trying not to focus on the needy tug at the loops of her shorts.

Lottie shrugged, a smile on her lips. A dazed one, like Nat would get when she was high.

“I won’t go,” she told her. Pulled harder.

Nat thought either she was going insane or Lottie was, because nothing made sense at the time. “What about—”

Lottie jerked her into her. Caught her lips with a giggle. She pecked them a few times, and Nat’s head clouded again.

Fuck the beach. The fuck did she care? Not at all. That’s how much she cared as she trailed kisses down Lottie’s jaw, her throat.

Lottie nudged her back up, gently. “Can’t leave marks if you want my parents to let me stay home,” she smiled at her. Chest rising and falling, eager. And her hand on Nat’s chin, thumb pawing her lower lip.

She had to stop and look at her for a moment. Take her in. Her hair draped over her shoulders, bra showing under a purple cropped t–shirt, where Nat had pulled it down. So easily under her hold, with her lipgloss smeared. Like she hadn’t been before.

Kissing her had always been a hit–and–run, but not then. Not as Lottie grinned, tongue twisting around the words, “I’ll stay if you want me to.”

She couldn’t feel it anymore. The sand. The fire.

Her stomach was warm. Kindly warm.

“Just ask,” Lottie told her.

It’s lost on Nat, whether she asked or pulled her in one last time, open–mouthed.

Wouldn’t matter either way, because Lottie stayed.

Chapter Text

Lottie Matthews was sweet.

She was sweet to the ears. Had the kind of voice Nat would’ve paid to be locked in a quiet room with, so she’d whisper, make the whole world sound kind again. Not that she would’ve had to. Lottie liked to talk into her ear either way.

She was sweet to the eye —which shouldn’t be possible, but when she looked at her, she knew. Seeing her in a summer dress, or in one of her cardigans, strutting about, or curled up on her bed, talking, laughing; it was enough to feel it. 

Even as she held Nat up against a wall, the door, a bathroom sink at a house she’d barely gotten a glimpse of before getting pulled and shoved into said bathroom, she was sweet about it. 

And she was sweet on the back of her mouth, as far as Nat’s tongue reached. On the skin above her collarbones, and her jaw, and the tips of her fingers —Nat had to find alternatives whenever Lottie wouldn’t let her kiss her before brushing her teeth in the morning; those were good ones.

She wasn’t allowed to stay overnight ever since the roof incident, because, apparently, Lottie not taking her pills was an even bigger deal than Nat imagined. Her parents had hired some kind of nurse for her, tasked with watching Lottie like a hawk every minute she spent inside her house, but especially during breakfast, when she was supposed to take her medication. Nat was sort of glad for it, not that she’d say that, since just the mention of that woman was enough to put Lottie in a mood.

But it eased her chest, only a little, that some older, supposedly wiser being was in that huge house with her, filling up some space, so Lottie wouldn’t have to do that all on her own. And that, despite Lottie’s complaints —which, again, she did not argue with, ever — someone was by her and her cereal bowl’s side, handing her the orange bottle and making her stick her tongue out afterward. It was a good thing, no matter what Lottie had to say about it. 

Besides, it wasn’t like they had locked her in and thrown away the key. Well, it was a bit, yeah, but Nat worked her way around it.

Lottie’s terrain was…unnecessarily large, for sure. Nat found that out the very morning her parents’ plane left, and she had to circle the fence around the woods that led to her garden, manage to jump over it, and walk endlessly until her bedroom window came into view, a floor above the cursed pool. 

She waited that first day, lying on her bed, skimming through magazines, until Lottie was done downstairs; showed up in her pink striped pajamas and choked back a yelp when she saw her.

“Took your goddamn time,” Nat sighed, watching Lottie’s expression twist from horrified to surprised, to the widest, sweetest grin.

“How’d you get in here?” Lottie asked, breathing quickened from the fright.

Nat shrugged like she was playing it cool, teasing her. When, actually, she just didn’t want to tell Lottie she’d had to maybe kind of sort of break a window latch. Worth it, though.

“I don’t wanna know, do I?”

“Nope,” Nat popped, stretching an arm out to tug on the flap of those dumb pink pajamas and jerk Lottie onto the bed.

She didn’t trip and flop on top of her, like Nat tried to make her —only to compensate for the embarrassment of having hiked and broken into her house just so she wouldn’t have to wait a few more hours to see her. Lottie was ready for the pull, caught herself with a knee against the mattress and her hands on both sides of Nat’s head.

“Hi,” Lottie whispered. Sweet. Delightfully so.

“Hey,” Nat rasped back, propping her torso up on her elbows.

And Lottie kissed her. Slow. They had all the time in the world back then.

But it wasn’t lost on Nat, how, had she gotten a little less lucky, they wouldn’t have had any time at all. That Lottie could’ve…well…

She didn’t like to think those words.

So, every morning, she snuck into her room and waited for her. Waited for her smile, and the way she’d jump onto the bed and they’d inevitably roll around for hours on end, switching between slow kisses and whispered conversations. And she made sure Lottie knew, every single one of those mornings, how much she wanted her there with her. She was careful to remind her, just in case that big house ever got too quiet and lonely, and made her forget.

“Lot?” she called out once, with Lottie’s head on her stomach, her torso between her legs, as the girl played with Nat’s fingers.

“Hmm?”

She shuffled upward, slid until her temple was against Nat’s jaw, and brought Nat’s arms around her waist.

Lottie looked out the window, watched the trees dance. Nat looked at her.

“That shit you pulled at the party— at the roof,” Nat half–mumbled, hoping Lottie would guess without her having to say it aloud. “Swear you won’t do that again. Ever.”

Lottie wasn’t twirling their fingers around anymore. She froze in place for a moment, eyes on the woods. Then, not a word, she rolled over, still in Nat’s hold. She grabbed her chin, pressed their lips together. Kissed her, harsh, a bit messy. Feeling beside herself.

Nat delved her hands into her hair, tried nudging her backward, enough to get an answer. “Lot…”

But Lottie was relentless. She snaked her way back into her mouth, trapped her lip between her teeth, pushed her chest, gently, so her back would sink into the headboard. And she kissed hard, and harder, and Nat could barely find that sweetness on the back of her tongue anymore.

She let her get away with it. 

Still, the bitterness grew. The black gunk in Lottie's stomach climbed up her throat and stained her gums. Nat wondered if she tasted bitter as well, because, as far as she knew, she'd been spitting her own grime out since she was thirteen.

Lottie wouldn't. They weren't alike in that way. Lottie swallowed it, over and over until she couldn't, and it just had to get out somehow, and she tipped off roofs.

She whipped around one afternoon, when she'd just finished clasping on her earrings and Nat was capping her eyeliner, and asked, "You haven't been drinking, have you?"

It was sudden, too sudden; Nat blinked slowly, bought herself some time to gather her thoughts. "Uh…I…"

"It's just— you don't seem like you have at all."

Nat put her eyeliner back in its spot —the one Lottie had cleared for her makeup to go in, since she spent so much time there anyway.

"I…haven't thought about that," she got out. Tangled her hands in her hair and ruffled it, avoiding Lottie's eyes, though her own were no comfort.

For a moment, she was quiet. Nat thought, maybe, she was done. Realized what an odd fucking question that was.

"But you haven't," Lottie said, more a question than a statement.

Nat shrugged. "No, guess I haven't."

She could see Lottie bobbing her head from the corner of her eye, as she pretended to fix the dark wing beside it. "Okay," Lottie uttered.

And she didn't utter a single word for the rest of the night. Not throughout the car ride there, not at the party. Not until it was late, and Nat had run circles around the subject so much there was smoke leaving her boots, and she had gotten asked to play beer pong, and she was holding the blue cup she'd just lost to Van.

"Come with me," Lottie said into her ear, dragged her away before she got a chance to respond.

She was hearing Van's complaints, and then she was climbing stairs and getting pushed —gently— into a dark room. Lottie's hands were peeling her jacket, and she didn't feel it happen, only noticed after a minute of heavy breaths and quick kisses that the cup had disappeared. 

Yes, of course she put it together. Nat even said that to her. "I wasn't gonna drink that."

Lottie got her face out of Nat's neck, held the back of it as she met her eyes. And she had that look in them like she already knew what Nat was about to say.

"I— I know you don’t like that shit. So I’m not gonna.”

She was so focused on keeping everything in place, like a stack of wooden blocks piled by a toddler, that she didn’t notice the wobble at the bottom. Didn’t see how small and plastic Lottie’s smile was before she dug back in, busied Nat’s lips otherwise.

“Sleep over at mine tonight,” Lottie panted after a while, straddling her lap.

Nat knew, even as she opened her mouth to argue, that it was more a command than an offer.

“She’s letting up a little. She doesn’t check up on me before breakfast, so it should be fine.”

And she dipped back into the kiss. That night, Nat began sleeping over at her house. 

It was fun. They were good at it, Nat thought whenever Lottie brought her breakfast to bed —not that Lottie had a choice; Nat couldn't walk around while that woman was in the house. And when she'd peck her cheek before leaving for doctor's appointments, too many of them, but Nat didn't question it at the time. And when she'd switch between her CD's and Nat's, so the background music was balanced as they made waffles for dinner.

Living together. They were good at it.

She never told her about it. How often she thought of the two of them in some apartment in New York, or wherever Lottie's college would be, bickering over what to cook on a random Wednesday evening, only to agree to disagree and seal it with a kiss, watch a movie, sleep in the same bed.

As complicated as they had been, were Nat offered to go back to any point in her past, she would choose that summer with her each time.

"Hey, you…you remember when we were in, like, sixth grade," Lottie said between giggles on a Sunday morning, drowsy from lack of sleep. They'd gotten back late from a party the night prior and opted to talk until sunrise. Nat wasn't mad about it. She didn't want to waste a single minute that could be spent with her. "You got hit on the head with a basketball—"

"Fuck, yeah, I remember," Nat laughed, though her chest was a little tight at the memory. She squirmed, sitting across the room from where Lottie's head hung off the foot of her bed. "Shit, I think I lost half my blood 'cause of that crap."

"Yeah, and you were all bloody with the whole class, like, huddled up around you," she laughed, and laughed; her face was red. "And you wouldn't let anyone take you to the nurse's office."

"Dude, I was fine !" Nat had been firm on that ever since she was eleven. "I don't even know how they got me to go," she mumbled.

Lottie smiled at her. Then pressed her lips shut to hide it. "I took you," she said, voice small. "You, uh…"

She shifted on the mattress, shook her shoulders a bit. And her eyes rolled up to watch the fingers she played with.

"You stood up so quick you passed out. And the teacher wasn't there, and I was the tallest one, you know? I carried you, like, on my back. I think Tai helped. But I left before you could see me, so."

Nat couldn't help grinning at her, even if Lottie wasn't looking. "Why'd you leave?" 

"'Cause…you hated it when I— when people tried to help you, and I didn't want you to hate me," Lottie shrugged, like she wasn't saying the sweetest, saddest shit Nat had ever heard.

She cursed herself a little, inside her head, for being the way she was. Stubborn to death. Even with Lottie, who —most of the time— had every bolt screwed into the right spot.

Lottie didn't look so tall, lying on her back like she was, shying her gaze away. Nat crawled over to her, knelt so she could grab her face and tip it backward, to face her, sort of. Weird position to be in, but she liked Lottie's upside–down eyes looking at her. 

"That's so fuckin' stupid," she told her, and Lottie laughed, whole body shaking with it.

"Shut up."

Nat kissed Lottie's smile, made it mold into her lips in a second. And she stroked her jaw, her neck, her chest; touched everywhere she could, since she'd also been stupid enough not to before. For so many years, she'd missed this without even knowing.

"You'd've made it pretty hard to hate you," Nat managed when Lottie inched away, panting a little.

"Jesus, shut up ," she laughed, flushed from her chest to her forehead, and pulled her onto the bed, demanding.

It seemed most conversations just led to kissing. Nat wasn't mad about it. She wondered, though, why that was. Why she hadn't made her swear before. Why she hadn't asked Lottie how come she was randomly thinking about that sixth-grade gym class.

But she let the words get lost inside Lottie's mouth, because, maybe, if she didn't, the bitterness would grow faster. She was fine tiptoeing around things, determined on holding them there, in that room, where nothing but the two of them really mattered. 

Lottie Matthews was sweet. Nat was gonna keep it that way.

Chapter Text

It was hot and humid and she was in a tent. Tent. Tent, tent, tent. God, she hated tents. Why in the world would anyone sleep in a tent when they could sleep anywhere else?

Why was she sleeping in a tent, anyway?

“NATALIE!”

“ARGH!”

She tried to jolt half-awake, but Rick’s forehead had gotten in the way. It was sure to leave a bruise. Stupid foreheads. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Ow! Dude!”

“Get off!” Her hands spurted upward —why couldn’t she feel her hands?— and landed somewhere about his bare shoulders and chest. 

He fell on his hip, and Nat caught the mud that smeared across the side of his face. 

Mud. Dirt. Where had they been? Where was she?

“Camden, asshole.”

Nat turned to him. She held herself up by sore elbows and wiped spit off the corner of her mouth. “What?”

“You asked where we were.”

She didn’t. She was sure she didn’t. 

Rick moved his jaw back and forth. He had a bruise that connected it with his lip. It made his mouth look like it was dripping off his face. 

“The fuck happened to you?”

He just shrugged.

Colin slept soundly behind him. 

Right. Colin was there. 

She grabbed what her hands reached of his ankle, shook it forcefully. “Up,” she managed, unsure why. 

Why were they supposed to be up, again?

“Concert starts at nine. Gotta get movin’,” Rick yawned, rolling on the plastic floor until he was —somehow— standing up.

Her eyes were wide and dry. “I didn’t say anything.”

Surely, she hadn’t gained telepathy with Rick while asleep. 

He turned around and frowned at her. “I know.” A fit of laughter broke out of him, back folded to step through the door. “Jesus…damn shrooms did their job.”

Shrooms. Shrooms?

Shrooms!

…Shit.

Plastic bent to smack against the top of her head. 

“Drink up, loser!”

She almost threw it right back at him, but she really was so, very parched. Her lips were one word away from cracked and the walls of her throat stuck together when she swallowed.

It was lukewarm, and she could taste the orange juice and vodka mix that had been the bottle’s prior owner. She gulped it down, deciding it would make a good stick to beat Colin with. 

***

“Hey, gorgeous,” Lottie was telling her in a sort of southern accent that got her to giggle. Had she followed her in here?

“How’s it going, sunshine?” she said back sharply, a bit weaker than Lottie had. Nat had never been very good at accents. 

Her eyes scanned the bar’s bathroom. Too crowded to hide in, too dirty for it to be tasteful, she concluded. 

She looped a finger around her belt and tugged for Lottie to follow her. Just beside the stage, just behind the speakers —right where no eyes realized. 

Her hands were on her waist when she pulled away, arms still wrapped around Nat’s neck. 

“Haven’t seen you all night,” she breathed, almost neutral, but Nat could hear the whine underneath.

She smiled. “Must’ve sucked for you.”

Lottie pretended to be offended, as she did, and Nat strengthened the hold on her, as she did. And she kissed her gently, so she could tell her she’d missed her too a bit closer. 

Then a hand was brushing up her leg, onto her hip, then back down and into her pocket, pulling out a small plastic bag.

There wasn’t much light back there. She could barely see her eyes, the look in them, as she held it in front of them, asking, “Why do you have this?”

***

Throwing up would forever remain one of the worst feelings of the world in her book. Right up there with being stabbed in the chest repeatedly —not that she had much experience with that one. 

Stab, stab, stab. Blood, guts. Gross.

She ran her tongue along her gums and spat, missing her boots by an inch. Then she lit a cigarette. Had to do something about the breath.

“Could you not?” Rick groaned, standing by the road with his thumb up. 

“Wut?” she got through the stick. 

He used his free hand to flap it about. Maybe he was trying to point at her accusingly. Maybe not.

“No one’s gonna stop if they see—“

***

“Got a sec?”

“Not really.”

“Bummer.”

She caught her wrist and yanked her hard enough to tip her backward. 

“So…is this a make-out pull or a fight one?” Lottie asked as Nat shut the door to Jackie’s bedroom.

“Where’d you put ‘em?” 

Her hand waved over to the bags piled in the corner of the room. 

“I got a show tonight, Lottie. I’m fucking serious.”

She held her arms crossed over her chest a minute longer, then gave up with a sigh. “I thought you said you were gonna quit.”

Her voice was small —smaller than Nat would’ve liked. If she was mad, why wouldn’t she scream at her? 

“I need the money, that’s what I said.”

She plucked the paper bag out of her purse and made a show of putting it back inside Nat’s. “You don’t need it badly enough to do this.”

Her blood boiled every time Lottie said that, or something along the lines of it. Of course she didn’t get it. Spoiled, rich Lottie Matthews didn’t get it, and how could she? Nat didn’t like to think of her that way —except when she acted like it. 

“You could get a job. An actual job.”

Nat leaned her hip against Jackie’s dresser and let out a bitter chuckle. “Yeah, yeah…bet four dollars an hour and zero days off are gonna do the trick.”

She wasn’t going to let some pervy old dude boss her around for less money than she was making selling the pot. No way. And Lottie would just have to live with it. 

Nat was clinging onto that thought by her fingernails as Lottie ran her palms down her face. It bothered her more than she was letting on.

She sat on the floor, back against the foot of the bed. Nat joined her. 

“I know you won’t let me give you money.”

They turned to watch each other. Nat wouldn’t forget how lucky she was that she got to look at her that way, up close. It was a crime that all she seemed to do was twist Lottie’s lips downward. 

“You know me so well,” she smiled, whispered sweetly. 

Lottie breathed a chuckle out, dropping her head on Nat’s shoulder. She wrapped both arms around hers, as if holding her in place.

They were quiet for a while. The girls all laughed downstairs, which seemed a bit like a tease from fate, or the Gods, or whatever. But it was fine. Lottie and her —they were just fine. 

If Lottie’s cheeks dampened Nat’s shoulder, they wouldn’t speak of it. 

“I wish I could help,” she said after a while. 

And Nat wished she wouldn’t try at all.

***

“—you puking your guts all over a goddamn lamppost!”

Oh. Dizzy. So, very dizzy. Had she eaten anything at all today? Or the day before?

Colin sat on some stones a bit further from the road, and he was much quieter. Sounded inviting.

“Hey, got anything rolled?” she asked, crouching beside him. 

“Sure.”

Rick tossed a dirty look her way. “We were saving that for later.”

“Like they’d’ve let you through with it,” she bit back. Why was he being such a pain in the ass?

Besides the hangover, lack of food, sleep, and sunblock, of course.

“I have my ways.”

She scoffed, rolling the striker repeatedly. It was so windy all of a sudden. 

*  *

Her finger tickled where it passed. It brushed down her temple, stroked along her cheek, tapped her nose, touched her lower lip. 

“Nat,” she whispered softly.

She tried to hum in response. It didn’t leave her throat. 

Lottie’s hair draped over her neck, and the legs she rested on shifted slightly. 

“Don’t fall asleep,” she said, this time against Nat’s mouth. 

She smiled at the brush of their noses, then freaked at the memory of Jackie and Shauna in the front seats. Her hand flew to shove Lottie into the backseat.

“Relax,” she laughed. “They’re getting something from the pharmacy.”

“Oh.” The electric shock to her spine remained brief. “Good,” she mumbled, eyes closed, and stretched her hand out some more to reach her jaw.

She tugged her gently for a kiss; Lottie followed. 

That day had stretched ten hours too long. Tai’s pool, the soccer match against Van, shopping with Lottie, the picnic, a late-night drive around town. But she liked this ending. 

“I’m not sleeping.”

Lottie chuckled, and she let her curl up on her thighs, ran her fingers through her hair as she drifted off.

“I’m not.”

*

“I’m not.”

“Get down, Natalie, come on!”

She heard the tires screech as her knees hit the pavement. 

“Pedo!” Colin yelled after the truck.

“What the fuck, Natalie?!” Rick’s voice got really high when he shouted. It used to be funnier.

Colin helped her stand; dust seeped into the cuts. She hadn’t noticed the glass, or the broken bottle of Jack in her hand. 

Where had that come from? They couldn’t afford any booze that wouldn’t pierce a hole through her stomach upon swallowing, and this one wasn’t that.

“What’s his fuckin’ problem?” she rasped. Her lips were still chapped.

“You wouldn’t wake up,” Colin began, immediately cut off by a red-faced Rick.

“He thought you were dead and freaked the fuck out !”

Nat rolled her shoulders and dropped what was left of the bottle. “I’m alive.”

She followed the direction the truck had sped off into and got her legs to move forward.

“Great!” Rick shrieked. He wouldn’t keep arguing, but he was pissed. She knew that. “We’ll just walk there!”

It was fine. People were always angry at her. It was permanent, a sickness she carried and stuck to everyone who dared touch her. She was used to it.

It was fine. 

**