Archive of Our Own

The cheering of the crowd—or more aptly, groups of parents and the few students who bothered to show up—and the screaming of her fellow teammates are drowned out by the flood rushing in her ears. As if she’s cupping a seashell to her ear to hear the sea.

Shauna wouldn’t consider soccer something she likes or ever looks forward to, in fact she dreads the hours leading up to every practice, every game. But… Those few special moments when she scores? Well, they’re incomparable to anything else she’s ever felt before.

It's a surprise to pretty much everyone, including herself, that Shauna scores the winning goal. The goal taking them one step closer to Nationals. Even Jackie seems surprised by this fact—which Shauna tries, and ultimately fails, to not feel hurt by.

Taissa and Van are leading the celebration. Jackie clings to Shauna like a lifeline, and the others follow charge all bumping, and hugging, and high-fiving. Sure, it’s a lot. And sure, the team is kinda crazy. Or super crazy. But despite that, Shauna can’t help but get swept up in the celebration. Smiling happily as she passed along and hugged by each team mate—starting with Jackie, and ending with Lottie. She can tell, because no one else is Wiskayok wears the super expensive vanilla perfume Lottie does—plus, well, she presses a light kiss to Shauna’s cheek. Like always, the Lottie Matthews way.

The team begins to chant, forming a circle like they do before each game. As Shauna looks around at her teammates, all of them screaming an assortment of ‘buzz’ and ‘Shipman,’ her eyes meet Lottie Matthews already staring at her. Shauna is unable to hold back the grin on her face—the buzz of excitement borderline infectious. Lottie grins back, and Shauna isn’t quite sure what it means, but she’s too high off the celebration to bother contemplating it.

By the time they return to the locker room, the rest of them are eagerly discussing a celebratory dinner and the party and plans of exploring Seattle before the tournament begins. Shauna takes her usual spot beside Jackie, not really listening as she pulls off her dirty cleats and pulls a fresh set of clothes from her bag.

“...Shauna?”

She blinks from her daze to look up at Jackie, who’s staring back at her with a raised eyebrow. 

“Sorry, what?”

“I was asking if you were going to Lottie’s party tonight,” Jackie says, as if it’s a total inconvenience she’s asking again. “You really should. Everyone’s going!” That’s what Jackie says, because she never really says what she means. Oftentimes anything she does say has to be decoded—a skill Shauna had mastered before she could even fully spell her one name. Granted, Shauna was pretty hard to spell when she was four. 

What Jackie really means is: “I’m going, which means you’re also going.”

And, another thing Shauna had learned long ago, is what Jackie says goes. Or, what she doesn’t say but what she means, goes. Whatever. Her point stands. 

She finishes with the laces of her converse, keeping her gaze fixed on her fingernails as she ties the little loops. The locker room is one of those places Shauna never truly feels comfortable. Sure, the team shares laughs and have fun here, but there’s always this odd feeling she gets once she walks through the door. As if she shouldn’t be here—that she’s being a creep somehow. Which, she supposes, isn’t far off the truth. No one feels comfortable in locker rooms, but Shauna feels alien. An invading species hidden among those who belong.

Now that the high of her victory has entirely worn off, that uneasy feeling is beginning to settle over her again. Deep and dirty, as if it seeps into her DNA and runs in her blood.

Jackie never comments on it. The way Shauna avoids eye contact and keeps herself to herself to an overly conservative degree. Even Laure Lee is more open than her, and, well, she’s Laura Lee. No one has commented on it, to which Shauna is thankful.

“What time is it?” Shauna asks, because what else is she going to say? Deny Jackie? No, no one does that. She drops her shoe to the ground and finally looks up at Jackie. Pretty much everyone is dressed now, and she watches as Jackie applies her strawberry and passionfruit lipgloss—Jackie’s gaze remains fixed on her own reflection. “Because I can’t stay out super late this time. My mom wants me to go shopping with her tomorrow.”

“Oooh,” Jackie coos, though it comes out a little funny as she continues applying the gloss to her lips. “What’s the occasion?” she asks, completely bypassing Shauna’s question. Not a good sign. “Something exciting coming up?”

“No, my bubbie is coming to visit in a few weeks—it’s her ninetieth and my mom wants me to get a new dress for it,” Shauna knows Jackie doesn’t really care about her bubbie’s birthday. Hell, Jackie probably already knows it. They both know pretty much every special occasion for each other's families. How could Shauna possibly forget Agnes Taylor’s ninety-second birthday is on the twelfth of July? No, Jackie’s stalling because the party probably does start late. “So, what time is it?”

Jackie says nothing, paying apt attention with the last of her lip gloss. Once she’s done she takes her time putting the cap back on and returning it to her bag—-only once she’s closed her locker door and leaning against it does she speak. “Don’t be mad.”

Great. Fucking great.

Realistically, Shauna could say no. Say she’ll have to skip this one, that Jackie can ride with Van or Mari, or even Jeff instead. Except, that isn’t realistic. Because one doesn’t just say no to Jackie Taylor. Certainly not Shauna Shipman, her best friend, of all people. And, truly, the effort of saying no and being roped into it anyway is far too exhausting for Shauna to go through again.

Looks like she’s going to have to deal with her mom tomorrow—honestly, that seems far easier than denying Jackie.

“Fine,” she sighs, and she stands, feeling a little less defenceless now that she’s got some height on Jackie again. “Just don’t make me stay out forever, okay?”

“Of course, not, Shipman,” Jackie says with a small grin as they leave the locker room shoulder to shoulder. “Besides, I’m hanging out with Jeff tomorrow. I can’t be super hungover for either of them.”

No, but Jeff probably will be.

Is what Shauna thinks, but what she says is, “you guys have a date?” because Shauna doesn’t always say what she thinks, either. 

“Yep.” Jackie seems pretty excited—about what, Shauna has no clue. Jackie had given her a play-by-play description of her last date with Jeff after the fact, and it had seemed super boring. What could possibly be fun about Jeff Sadecki? Nothing, as far as Shauna is concerned. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all the ‘detes.”

“Great.” One good thing is that Jackie is very much not fluent in sarcasm, at least not from others. She simply keeps smiling.

Jackie fixes her hair one last time, even though it never, ever, needs fixing. She knows she has perfect hair, she makes Shauna remind her with constant reassurance that it looks good. “You ready to go, Shipman?”

“Uh, not yet,” Shauna says, hoping for a few moments alone before heading back to her house for another Jackie makeover. She fidgets with the still untied lace of her other converse, though she could have easily tied it already. An excuse—because Jackie doesn’t give up easily. “Go wait for me, I’ll be there in a few.”

An argument is already on Jackie’s lips, but something must make her think better of it. She nods with an over exaggerated sigh and slings her little bag over her shoulder, leaving the locker room with a final wave to Shauna. No alone for the first time since she left the house this morning, she sinks back against the lockers behind her. Sometimes Shauna forgets what it feels like to be alone, because she’s always with Jackie, has been since they were 4, but she does miss it. Sometimes—just sometimes.

In the midst of slowly tying her second converse, someone sits down beside her. She tilts her head to see Lottie—though the smell of her vanilla perfume gave her away before Shauna had to look—she’s still wearing her soccer uniform, but her hair is now down from its previous pigtails and ribbons.

“Hey,” Lottie says, her voice still slightly breathless and a little scratchy from all the screaming. “You were great out there today.”

Shauna doesn’t think she was particularly great, at least not any better than she usually plays. Besides the final goal, that is. Which even Jackie seems to privately think wasn’t entirely due to Shauna’s skill. She’s still pretending knowing her best friend thinks that doesn’t hurt. If she weren’t exhausted she might try and figure out what Lottie wants out of this, why she suddenly feels the need to compliment her, but she doesn’t. 

“Thanks,” she says, finishing up the laces on her sneaker and moving to rest her cheek on her knee, looking at Lottie again. “You too.”

For a moment they’re both silent. Not quite awkward, but not quite comfortable either. It’s Lottie who breaks it, “are you coming to the party tonight?” 

Lottie has a look on her face that Shauna can’t quite decipher. Lottie’s always been good at sensing what isn’t spoken—sometimes Shauna wonders if she’s a mind reader, but the thought feels too whimsical. Really, Lottie’s probably just lonely. Those who are alone tend to understand others the most—with all the watching they do. It’s why Shauna’s mom can read her like an open book, too. Shauna can only read the truth from one person—and that person just left.

It doesn’t help that Lottie rarely emotes until she’s actually talking. The type of person to look totally miserable whilst being content, or vice versa. Shauna’s just the type of person who looks totally miserable because she’s actually just miserable. She’s never been skilled at hiding her thoughts and feelings, and so she doesn’t even try.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” she says, “Jackie wouldn’t forgive me if I missed it.”

Something almost entirely unperceivable passes over Lottie’s face, and Shauna has no clue what it’s supposed to mean. “Come see me at some point,” she says, “I…  I feel like I never see you. Since this is our last year as a team, you should. You know, so we can be together before graduation.” 

It’s not like she never sees Lottie, she’s exaggerating. Kind of. Okay, fine, she mostly sticks to Jackie at parties, but it’s not like that’s entirely her own choice. Shauna isn't entirely sure what to make of Lottie suddenly being so invested in getting to know her, unsure whether it’s touching or creepy. She doesn't dislike Lottie, she’s actually probably the person Shauna knows the best on the team beyond Jackie, and maybe Taissa, but that doesn’t mean they’re close either. Besides, Lottie isn’t the type to make sure everyone's involved. That’s more of Jackie’s thing, and Shauna never says no to Jackie.

Except, this is Lottie asking. And, somehow, Shauna doesn’t feel the urge to brush her off, to reject her request. Even though she knows that if anyone else—anyone but Jackie, and apparently Lottie, were to ask, her answer would be no.

“I’ll find you,” she agrees, and if she were in the mood for self reflection she might question why the decision comes so easily. Why it’s so easy to do what Lottie wants. Why it’s probably always been like this, since she first met Lottie, but they haven’t hung out enough for her to realize. But she isn’t in the mood for self reflection. So, she doesn’t. “It’ll be nice to have a break from Jackie and Jeff,” she adds with a smile.

Lottie laughs softly. It’s more of a huff, and her eyes flick up across the room. “I can guarantee there will be no Jackie and Jeff make-outs when we hang out,” she murmurs, and Shauna follows her gaze to where a framed photo of a smiling Jackie hangs on the wall amidst the entire team’s similar portraits. Shauna’s the one laughing now, and if Lottie perks up the slightest at the sound, Shauna doesn’t even notice. 

Shauna moves to stand now as she pulls on her denim jacket. “I should get back to Jackie, she’s waiting for me,” she says, but she pauses before she leaves, adding, “I’ll see you tonight, Lottie.”

Lottie smiles, moving back to her locker to get changed out of her uniform.

And perhaps Shauna stares for a little too long before turning away and heading out to find Jackie. And maybe she can’t stop thinking about the briefest glimpse she got of Lottie’s back as she pulled her shirt over head. 

And maybe Shauna should consider why doing things she would never do comes too easy when it’s Lottie Matthews asking.

But she won’t. And she doesn’t.

Shauna finds Jackie already seated in her side of the car. Yes, her side. Jackie had declared the passenger seat be renamed to ‘Jackie’s Seat.’ Shauna didn’t even have any points to dispute the naming. 

She lets Jackie get carried away with the radio. Focusing on the road as she fiddles to find a decent channel—and, of course, she fails, putting on some poppy tune. It’s one that Shauna doesn’t recognize, but she can’t even fight the slight smile on her face as Jackie sings along.

The way she rolls down the window so the wind blows in her hair, waving her arms around and screaming the repetitive lyrics at the top of her long. Sending these side-ways smiles and little glances at Shauna. 

“Come on, Shauna!” she half-yells over the music as the song transitions into an instrumental section, reaching over to shake her by the shoulder. “Join in!”

“I don’t know the lyrics!”

“It's so simple, you have to have caught on by now!” 

Well, Shauna can’t even argue. 

With a reluctant eye roll she sings along, and Jackie’s arm waving and dancing has gotten to borderline dangerous levels now. Thankfully the song comes to a close before they cause any major accidents, and Jackie slumps back in her seat, breathless but joyful.

“That’s a good song,” she comments and she leans her head against the seat, tilting to look at Shauna. She has to force herself not to look at Jackie, all sweaty and happy from their impromptu sing along. That might be the cause of a collision instead. “Tonight's the night,” she says, and it’s another one of those Jackie things only Shauna can figure out. Her euphemisms that Shauna has to decode.

This one means: “I’m planning on sleeping with Jeff tonight.”

Which Shauna has heard plenty of times before. Each time ends the same—with Jackie still a virgin and vowing they’ll do it next time. Yeah, Shauna doesn’t put much stock in these claims anymore.

It’s not that Shauna wants Jackie to sleep with Jeff, not in the slightest, but she’s so sick of hearing about it. The same spiel about the virtues of virginity and the importance of finding the right guy. Of nodding and humming along, almost on the edge of mouthing Jackie’s little speech back at her. So sick of it ruining her own weekend, and she’s not even in the relationship—she’s an odd, third-wheel that’s expected to be both a chauffeur and babysitter.

“Cool,” she says with a nod, keeping her thoughts on the whole Jackie and Jeff situation to herself, and pulls up to her house. “Just be safe, okay?”

“Gosh, Shipman, don’t be such a mom.” Jackie rolls her eyes as loosens her seatbelt, kicking her feet a little. “We’ll use protection—whatever. Just be happy for me, okay?”

“I am happy for you.”

Jackie scoffs, sending her a sceptical look.

“Look, it’s hard to be happy happy when it’s the hundredth time you’ve declared you're sleeping with Jeff,” Shauna says, unbuckling her seatbelt. “But I’m happy for you, Jax. Seriously.”

A small smile pulls at her lips, and she reaches over to squeeze Shauna’s hand briefly. “Thanks,” she says, but the moment is over before it even really begins. Jackie is out of the car and heading into Shauna’s house, leaving Shauna to hurry out and follow behind her.

The Shipman house has always been open to Jackie, even through its many changes. Shauna’s mom always insisted Jackie feel at home, and even confessed that sometimes Jackie feels like a second daughter—sometimes. It’s unlike the atmosphere at the Taylor house. Despite their essentially life-long friendship, Shauna has never been welcomed there. Neither has Jackie, really. And Shauna’s sure Mrs. Taylor would sooner drop dead than even joke that Shauna could be her daughter.

Most days end up like this, with Jackie leading Shauna up to her own room. They pass the various family photos on the way up the stairs—smiling ghosts of a once happy family, or perhaps it never really existed to begin with. Jackie is still humming that song from the car even as she settles on Shauna’s bed, picking up the book Shauna had left there from the night before.

“You’re reading something else, already?” she asks, holding the book up as if it’s diseased or might bite her.

Shauna pulls her worn and beaten copy of Mansfield Park, shoving her bookmark inside and returning it to her bedside table. She doesn’t answer the question because she knows Jackie doesn’t want one. Instead she lets Jackie get carried away again, digging through the small pile of clothes Shauna also left on her bed a few nights ago.

“You really need to clean up in here,” she comments, which easily rolls off Shauna. “I swear some of these shirts you wore weeks ago.”

The last thing she cares about is keeping her room clean—especially for Jackie’s tastes. She leans back and stares up at the ceiling, leaving Jackie to peruse. There’s no doubt in her mind that Jackie wants to dress her like always tonight, and Shauna needs to prepare for whatever outfit she’ll be put in like a life size Barbie doll. Something outside of her comfort zone, accompanied by, “you just have to branch out a little, Shauna. How else are we going to get you a boyfriend?”

That can be a problem for Shauna tonight. Shauna right now is just going to savour these few minutes of peace—pretending it lasts far longer than it does. Once again, her thoughts drift back to Lottie in the locker room. The slight mischievous edge to her smile, the hopeful glimmer in her eye as she asked Shauna to come see her tonight. What does it mean? That question plagues her mind. It’s not as if this is totally out of the blue. Shauna and Lottie are friendly, of course, they’re both midfielders, but rarely like this.

The last time they’d been close was probably freshman year. The pair had been invited to Rachel Osman's sleepover that year—the it-girl of the school before Lottie, really. Though, unlike the docile and kind-hearted Lottie, Rachel was bitter and cruel. Jackie had been ecstatic when they were invited, stating it as their gateway to high school royalty.

Shauna never thought being royalty of somewhere like Wiskayok would be anything but miserable. Now that Jackie has practically already won the title homecoming queen, Shauna’s thought has cemented evermore.

That sleepover had been a total disaster, and it left with Shauna escorting a crying Jackie to Mr Taylor’s car and staying over the Taylor’s house instead. Much to the chagrin of Mrs Taylor, of course. She’d sent a small smile to Lottie as she left, and that was the extent of their interactions from then onward. Shared looks and greetings at parties, games, dinner, practice—sometimes being paired at training, but rarely being allowed to remain that way without a Jackie-Taylor complaint.

So, what is it about now? Perhaps the way high school is slipping away from them. Is Lottie trying to hold on to it by holding onto Shauna? She isn’t sure, but either way she doesn’t mind. Anything to get her away from Jackie and Jeff tonight will be close to a miracle—if that miracle is Lottie Matthews then so be it.

“Earth to Shipman?” Jackie is standing over her, hands on her hips in her typical, ‘we’ve got stuff to do, Shauna,’ pose. “You good? You keep zoning out today.”

Shauna slowly sits up, holding the sigh building in her chest. Might as well get this over with. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, shifting to the edge of her bed as Jackie already rummages through her closest. “Just tired from the game.”

“Well, you’ll have to stay awake for this party,” Jackie says, pulling out a few dresses and holding them up to inspect. “Who knows? Maybe tonight you’ll finally find the perfect guy to date!”

There it is.

Shauna was wondering how long it would take.

“Jackie…”

“I know, I know. You’re not looking to be in a relationship. I get it. Neither was I, but look at me—I got Jeff Sadecki.” It’s said as if it’s a good thing, but that isn’t true. Nothing about it is. Shauna distinctly remembers Jackie lamenting and complaining about not having a boyfriend. Plus, dating Jeff Sadecki is hardly anything to brag about. If anything, Jeff got Jackie Taylor. “Either way, you don’t need a reason to look nice.”

“I guess not.”

Jackie grins at her, “that’s the spirit!” She tosses the dresses aside, all of them apparently not good enough for whatever look she’s going for tonight. Her hands dig through the closet once more, and the deeper she looks, Shauna already knows what she’s searching for.

Please, no, she thinks. Don’t be what I think it is.

Not the…

“Aha!” Jackie steps back with a victorious cry, holding back her prize. “The boob-dress.” She inspects it, picking off any stray fluff from it since it’s been buried deep under skirts and jeans and shirts. “I was wondering where this was—it was like a treasure hunt trying to find it in there.”

Shauna holds her tongue, deciding not to point out it’d been hidden for a reason. Still, she should have known Jackie would find it. Truly, the best solution would be to burn it in her backyard. But, that’s stupid. 

Plus, her mom would be super pissed if she ever found out.

“Now, time to get part-ready,” Jackie tosses dress to Shauna, heading back to the closet for another search.

The more this night unfolds, the more grateful Shauna is for Lottie’s request.

//

“I’m just saying, if she went a little less crazy with the make up, maybe people would like her more.”

Yeah, Shauna has no clue what Jackie and Jeff have been bickering out since the moment they picked him up on the drive over to Lottie’s house. Something meaningless that they’ll both forget in favor of sucking each other's faces, no doubt. 

“But make up is hot,” Jeff argues from his spot in the back seat—he always complains about that. Jackie always shoots back that the passenger seat belongs to her, and Shauna never mentions how her mom usually sits there too—and sometimes her oldest cousin. “Maybe if you wore more, people would like you more.”

“Jeff!” Jackie turns, which is when Shauna realizes she isn’t even wearing a seatbelt, and lightly smacks Jeff in the shoulder. “Don’t say that!”

Shauna reaches over with her spare hand, not looking away from the road as she grabs the sleeve of Jackie’s blouse and pulls her back into her seat. “Are you crazy?” she asks, glancing over at a pouting Jackie. “Put your seatbelt on,” she says and she glances in the mirror to look at Jeff, who’s also neglected to put on his seat belt, “both of you.”

“I thought you said she wasn’t going to be our mom tonight,” Jeff voices from the back, as if she can’t hear him.

“Just put your seatbelt on, Jeff,” Jackie sighs, resting her cheek against her window.

The couple gets into another meaningless argument less than a minute later and Shauna turns the dial on the radio, letting whatever song is playing drown them out so she can focus on getting them there in one piece. The Matthews’ street is unusually packed, rows and rows of cars lining the sidewalk all the way up to the front gate. Shauna parks close, since Lottie always makes sure the Yellowjackets get top priority at all her parties.

She follows Jackie and Jeff inside. The vibrations of the deafening music shake the whole house, and makes Shauna feel as if she’s on edge as she’s tugged along behind Jackie and Jeff through the crowd of sweaty, teenage bodies. They bump into Van and Tai first.

“Hey guys,” Van greets with a wide smirk, her arm hanging around Tai who is far more chilled than usual, “you just get here?”

“Yeah, Shauna drove,” Jackie answers, silently urging Jeff to wrap his arm around her similar to Van. To out couple them or something—though Shauna’s pretty sure Jackie and Jeff are the only two people at Wiskayok High who don’t realize Tai and Van are obviously dating. “You look very happy, Van.”

“Oh, I am,” she shoots a grin at Tai and wiggles her brow, and the little laugh she gets in Tai must mean they have some inside joke. Tai and Van have always been like that since they’ve been Tai-and-Van. Shared looks, sly grins—eyebrow wiggles and quiet whispers, trading laughs and slaps. Van then looks at Shauna, tilting her head slightly and her brows furrow in thought, “oh, Shipman, Lottie was looking for you.”

The way Jackie’s lips purse slightly means that she wants to ask why, but Shauna doesn’t give her the opportunity. “Where is she?” she asks, looking over Van’s head towards the rest of the crowd. Lottie isn’t there, she can tell immediately, because Lottie never blends in. Especially not at her own party.

Van shrugs, and Tai adds, “last we saw she was in the kitchen,” before dragging Van past the three of them and towards the door with another hushed whisper.

Shauna trails after Jackie and Jeff as they lead her further inside—not stuck to each other like they’re one organism or something. Gradually they make their way to the kitchen, which is the least crowded part of the house by a margin. Lottie is there too, ready to great them.

“Hi!” she says with a smile, her hostess smile. She pulls Jackie into a hug first, pressing a light kiss to her cheek—quickly doing the same with Jeff before turning to Shauna. Maybe it isn’t longer, more intense, but for some reason it feels like it. And, as Lottie presses her hands to the small of Shauna’s back in their hug, she whispers into her ear, “come see me later, yeah?”

With a swallow Shauna musters a nod, unsure as to why the slight brush of Lottie’s breath against her ear. Lottie leaves soon after, shouting after Akilah in the dining room, and Shauna gets roped into a boring game of beer pong—Jackie and Jeff against her and Randy Walsh.

Better than nothing, she supposes.

//

Shauna could say that this was unexpected. Could say she’d hoped she’d have fun tonight, that it wouldn’t be ruined by this.

This night was never going to be fun. Shauna didn’t even want to go, but here she is anyway.

Every other weekend goes exactly the same. Each party—always like this. Jackie will expect Shauna to drive her to whatever party is happening that week, no matter how far away it is. But it’s fine because Jackie will cover half the gas money and they’re best friends, and that’s what best friends do. Soon into the night, after Shauna gets them both drinks, Jackie will disappear from her side. Sometimes with a warning— ”I’m gonna go find Jeff, don’t wait up for me, Shipman. Have fun!” —more often with none at all.

They always end the same way too.

So, when Jackie strays from her side, towards Jeff and his jerk-off friends on the other side of the room, Shauna isn’t surprised at all. There’s no point in waiting around. So she can watch Jeff clumsy and blatantly shove his hand up Jackie’s dress? No thanks. She downs the rest of her drink, which was just grape soda anyway, and pushes her way through the sweltering crowd in search of a corner to sulk in or bathroom to hide in.

She ends up outside. The music continues to thump inside, as if it has a life of its own. Distant yells of a crowd are muffled inside, and Shauna wonders how much longer she’s going to do this to herself. Because, sure, Jackie’s her best friend. She loves her—more than she’s ever loved anyone. Though, there aren’t many candidates to oppose that. Sometimes, it feels like that sentiment, her feelings, don’t go the same way.

Jackie never offers to drive—claiming Shauna’s just so much better at it. She’s always intruding in Shauna’s love life, but can never seem to comprehend that Shauna doesn’t want a boyfriend. Certainly not one who lives in Wiksayok, at least.

Fuck, she must sound like a melodramatic bitch right now. Jackie’s a good friend. She is. 

She’s just… A lot. Sometimes.

Or a lot of the time.

Wading through the dark of the backyard isn’t the best idea, and Shauna ends up walking into something. Or someone, if the quiet, “ow,” as her boot knocks into them is anything to go by. Wait… Shauna recognises that voice.

“Lottie?” she asks, squinting down at the girl. Lottie is lying on the grass, dark hair splayed out on the grass like a halo, pink lips, matching pink crop-top and bubble-gum pink skirt unfolded out against green the only parts of her illuminated in by the moon. Her eyes are darker than usual—swallowed by the darkness of the night as she blinks up at Shauna. “You okay?”

A small hum comes from Lottie, and Shauna can tell she’s drunk. She has the slight crook of a smile on her lips, her legs unable to stay still. Her hand pats the space beside her, and Shauna takes it as an invitation, sitting on the grass and closing her eyes. 

Wearing this dress probably wasn’t a good idea, the red fabric is likely already completely stained by the grass already. Though, it never had been Shauna’s idea, and she doesn’t care enough to even regret choosing to come out here.

Unlike Jackie, Shauna doesn’t really care if people glance at her twice because her dress is slightly green. Oh, Jackie would have an aneurysm for sure. It’s probably good she’s gonna inevitably hitch a ride home with Jeff.

Probably.

“What’re you doing out here?” a quiet voice asks, mumbled but soft. Shauna doesn’t open her eyes to look at Lottie, instead sinking back to lie beside her in the moonlight. The familiar scent of her perfume washes over her, alongside.... Is that vodka? Far too exhausted to respond, she says nothing, until Lottie lightly pokes her arm. “Don’t go to sleep.”

She can almost hear the pout in her voice. Cracking open an eye reveals Lottie looming above her and swaying. Now her hair is more like a mane, messy and slightly damp from the wet grass. Her face is entirely serene, except the hint of a growing smile.

“I’m awake,” Shauna says, sitting up and plucking a few strands of grass from her hair, quietly mumbling, “unfortunately.”

It’s quiet enough outside that Lottie hears her, and she laughs. Not her usual laugh—the reserved, little laugh that she does whenever the team gets together. It’s the loud, slightly goofy one she only lets lose when she’s inebriated.

“So, what are you doing out here?” Shauna asks, watching as Lottie intently attempts to, and fails, to pick at the grass.

A small snort comes from Lottie, her gaze drifting back up from her dirty fingers to Shauna. “I asked you first,” she points out, but continues before Shauna can answer, “I like the quiet.” Shauna doesn’t entirely understand that. Well, she understands it. She likes the quiet too, but Lottie’s throwing a party. At her house. Not to mention that they’re only a few feet away from the noise, and they can definitely still hear it. Lottie does a little drunk nod towards her, “your turn.”

Shauna watches as she struggles to grasp at the grass again, wondering how much she’s already drunk tonight, and shrugs. “I was bored, I guess?”

“Bored?” Lottie laughs, though Shauna doesn’t think much about this is funny. “You’re clearly not drunk enough for this, then.”

Now if that isn’t the truth.

“I’m completely sober.”

Lottie slowly lifts her head and looks at Shauna, and it shocks her. She blinks, wide and slow. “Why?” is all she asks, and the question would be amusing if Shauna wasn’t deep into self pity.

“I have the fortune,” or misfortune, really, “of being the designated driver.”

“For Jackie?”

“For Jackie,” she nods.

Lottie’s face scrunches up, and she tilts her head as if trying to decipher a practically hard question. “I thought she was with Jeff,” she says, and Shauna has to stop herself from saying something along the lines of ‘captain obvious.’

“Yeah, well…” she trails off, unsure of how to make this pathetic situation seem not pathetic. She quickly gives up. “Jackie expects me to be available for a ride—you know, in case Jeff can’t for some reason, or whatever.”

“That’s stupid.” 

Shauna nods her head in agreement. “I know, how pathetic of me to—”

“No, I mean, that’s super shitty of Jackie. To just…” Lottie shrugs, her mouth twists in thought for a moment. “I don’t know, forbid you from having fun because it might benefit her.”

Shauna almost scoffs at the suggestion. “I wouldn’t say she’s forbidding me,” she argues, because she isn’t just Jackie’s lackey. She has opinions, she makes her own decisions. “I just—we’re best friends. We look out for each other.”

“Has she ever been the designated driver?”

“Well, no—”

“Point proven”, Lottie concludes, and she claps her hands. She clambers to her feet, flecks of grass falling off her jeans as she stands. “Okay, enough moping,” she declares, holding her hand out to Shauna, “come on, Shipman.”

Shauna blinks up at her, eyeing her hand.  “Huh?”

“We’re going to have fun—real fun.” Lottie pulls Shauna up from the grass, dragging her back towards the foreboding Matthew’s house. “You promised you’d come see me tonight,” she says, almost in a sing-songy voice, “besides, Jackie’s probably busy with Jeff anyway.”

“Actually, I never promised—”

Lottie turns back around and presses a finger to Shauna’s lips, “shush,” she says, shaking her head and squinting at her. The action has Shauna’s cheeks heating up—but she’s not blushing. Just, slightly flustered at the lack of self-control a drunk Lottie has right now. That's all. God, she hopes her cheeks aren’t super red right now. “Just have fun with me. Okay?”

It feels like an eternity. They both stare at each other in the humid silence of Wiskayok, the only sound the thumping music distant from inside, on the lead up to the summer. Just a few weeks away. Just a few weeks until graduation, until college.

A whooping yell from inside breaks the drawn-out silence.

“Fine,” Shauna sighs against Lottie’s finger, though really there’s nothing she’d rather be doing right now.

“Great!” Again, Lottie has this sparkly look in her eyes. The flashing lights of the party as they step inside illuminate her face in bright blues and greens, mesmerizing and nauseating all at once. Lottie breaks the stare, turning to lead them through the house and to the kitchen. “First of all, you’re getting a drink,” she states with a happy hum, “a real one. Um, if you want.” She glances back at Shauna again, to double check—because this is exactly who Lottie Matthews is.

“Sure, okay,” she nods, allowing herself to be dragged over to the counter. 

She watches closely, slightly entranced at the performance happening in front of her. Unable to tear her eyes away from Lottie’s hands as she flicks off caps and pours liquid, mixing it in a cup. Shauna can't manage to keep track of what’s even in the drink. Silently she imagines what Lottie’s large hands might feel like wrapped around her own for a moment, would her hands be soft or rough, wondering how it would feel to drag the pad of her thumb over the flaking nail polish—a pretty blue. Then, her mind drifts further, imagining Lottie’s hand wrapped around something else, and—

Shauna shakes away the odd thought. Tomorrow, when she remembers that thought and the one before it, she’ll blame it on the alcohol. She’ll ignore the fact she hasn’t drunk anything besides grape soda up until this very moment, as Lottie shoves the yellow plastic cup—you know, for the Yellowjackets—into her clammy hand.

With a raised eyebrow Lottie watches her intently and leans back against the counter. As if waiting for her to drink. To know what she thinks. Shauna lifts the cup to her lips, for some reason not wanting to break their shared gaze as she sips the freshly made drink into her mouth. Though, she’s forced to the moment it hits her tongue.

“Oh, fuck me,” she coughs up. The motion shakes the cup and some of it sloshes onto the front of her dress. Might as well add to the grass. It’s really fucking strong. Shauna realizes it probably has vodka in it, if the smell of Lottie’s breath early is a good indication. She shakes her head as she tries to stop herself from coughing and sputtering. “That’s—That’s just disgusting.” Lottie’s grinning at her, as if she expected for this to happen. As if she was waiting for it. “You’re…” She coughs again, pressing a hand to her slightly aching chest. “You’re evil, Lottie.”

“Are you going to finish it?” Lottie asks, and it sounds like a challenge. And when Shauna glances up to look at her, it looks like a challenge too. “If not…” she trails off, hand slowly reaching to take the cup, “I’ll finish it for you.”

In one smooth motion, decisive but certainly a mistake, Shauna brings the rim of the cup back to her lips and tilts it almost upside down. She gulps back the abomination of a drink, eyes watering at the burn in her throat. When she’s gone she tosses the cup to the counter and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, sending Lottie a smug grin. Though, that might have been what Lottie had wanted her to do all along. Huh.

“I’m making myself one,” she says, grabbing another cup before she pauses, “you want another?”

Shauna nods, unable to speak without coughing and Lottie grins back at her. When she's done she makes them clank them together with quiet cheers, almost entirely drowned out by the music and yelling. They chug them again, but Shauna stops herself halfway through, instead letting herself watch Lottie finish her drink in a way no one but her could make appear graceful. Lottie then takes the half-finished cup from Shauna and downs that too.

“Holy shit.”

She shrugs, eyes sparkling again in the bright kitchen light. “I like it,” she says and flutters over to the fridge. 

“You’re so weird, Lottie.”

The grin on her face doesn’t falter as she glances back at Shauna, lifting her shoulder again for another smug shrug. “That’s what you like about me.”

There’s no time to answer, not that Shauna would know what to say, because Lottie’s quickly popping the cap off a beer on the counter and hands it to Shauna. “Time for you to catch up with me, Shipman.”

The sound of her second name on Lottie’s lips makes her stomach flip, and the cold bottle feels good in her hand. Soothing. She doesn’t drink it, just squeezes her palm against the glass, ignoring the slight thrum of pumping blood in the tips of her fingers. Lottie stands across from her, palms flat behind on the counter. No longer staring at her, instead gaze drifted off to the side. Is she waiting for Shauna to say something? It’s hard to tell. Shauna can never figure Lottie out.

“What’s next?” she ends up asking, and Lottie’s eyes lock back to her. Perhaps she’d expected Shauna would say that too. She brings the beer bottle to her lips to distract from the second flip of her stomach as she waits for Lottie to drag them into whatever activity they’re going to next.

Another scream, louder now that they’re inside, makes them both bristle. With a shared look Lottie reaches out again and wraps her hand around Shauna’s wrist and leads her out the kitchen. She feels the urge to ask where they’re going now, it hangs on the tip of her tongue but she doesn’t find the courage to actually say it. Not that she needs to. They end up climbing the stairs—a place usually off limits from party guests. 

The walls are decorated with photos of Lottie as a child. Not candid ones—perfectly posed photoshoots. An admittedly adorable young Lottie grins at the camera in a baby pink dress, hair split into two pigtails and tied with giant bows. At the top of the stairs hangs a giant painted portrait of Lottie and her parents. A painted portrait.

“It’ll be quiet up here,” Lottie says as they reach a door, and she holds it open for Shauna to step inside.

She’s never seen this part of the house before, but she can immediately tell this is Lottie’s bedroom. A direct contrast to the rest of the house, which despite being filled with almost a hundred people—probably—oftentimes seems barren and lifeless beneath the booze, lights, and music. Lottie’s bedroom is full of colour and messy and human. Piles of baby pink, lime green and baby blue clothes decorate the pristine gray carpet. The walls' covered in a pink and white pinstripe wallpaper , the mess reflecting a side of her Shauna doesn’t think she’s ever seen before. Shelves filled with books, trinkets, and polaroid photos. She spots the grinning face of Laura Lee during her brief glance across the room.

Laura Lee rarely comes to parties—instead opting for the team dinners. Sometimes she’ll show up before her curfew, but she never drinks—voices her concern for anyone else. Not in a judgemental way, though. Shauna likes Laura Lee, and wonders if she’d decided to come to this party if Lottie would be dragging Shauna around like she is right now.

Maybe it’s better not to think about that.

When the door shuts behind them the party downstairs is almost entirely silent, and Shauna steps towards the middle of the room and awkwardly fidgets with the neck of her bottle. She takes another longer sip and almost finishes the whole bottle, watching as Lottie moves across the room, more comfortable and purposeful than back in the kitchen. Less performative, too. 

Lottie’s searching in one of her bookcases, pushing books aside to reach behind them. She fishes something out, holding it out for Shauna. It’s a mixtape, but too far away for Shauna to read whatever’s written on the front. Silently Lottie pops it in to play, the opening notes of Mazzy Star’s Wasted ruminating in the room. She dances slightly on her way towards the bed, waving her arms in a way Shauna can only think to describe as slightly hypnotizing. 

“Come on,” she urges, pulling Shauna’s arms away from her chest and taking the beer bottle from her hand, discarding it onto the bookshelf. “This is my favourite song,” Lottie adds, “you have to dance with me.”

“I do?” Shauna asks with a small laugh, though she doesn’t fight Lottie’s attempts at making her move. 

“Yeah, you promised.”

“Well I—”

“Don’t make me shush you again, Shauna,” Lottie says, half-serious half-joking, but the smile she sends Shauna ends any thought of denying her wish. 

She follows Lottie’s movements, neither of them particularly good at dancing, but it's fun. Swaying to the music, Shauna has to admit she likes this song too. She laughs at Lottie’s odd psychedelic style of dancing, and Lottie grins with her teeth as Shauna awkwardly flails in a way that could only be described as penguin-like.

In a blink Lottie wraps her hand around Shauna’s and lifts it above her head, spinning to the music. But, both of them are too drunk and too bad of dances for it to go well—Shauna ends up getting dizzy after the momentum of the third spin and Lottie quickly stops her with a giggle and quiet, “oops.”

Lottie guides her towards the bed, “you can sit,” she says, though really she just lowers Shauna onto it.

Lottie’s bed is double the size of Shauna’s, maybe more, and the covers are silk. They slide beneath her hands, the pink fabric almost luminescent in the way the ceiling light reflects off of the fabric. Lottie flops back onto her bed, lying beside Shauna in an inverse to how they were outside. Though, Shauna doubts she looms quiet as much as Lottie does. Lottie grins at nothing in particular, eyes closed as she quietly hums along to the song still playing—and Shauna can’t help but notice a fang looking tooth poking over the edge of Lottie’s upper lip. It’s captivating—curious, almost.

“Stop staring at me, Shauna, and relax.” She blindly reaches for Shauna, grabbing her arm and tugging her until they’re laying side by side once again. 

When Lottie rolls over she turns to face Shauna, eyes open now and looking a little hazy. Glassy and bright. She’s not smiling, but Shauna can tell she’s happy. It emanates from her, like heat or electricity. It thrums in the room, it seeps into Shauna and perhaps that's why she’s so happy right now, too.

“You have a nice room,” Shauna says, because she’s not sure what else to do.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay as long as you like.”

Shauna can feel the booze hitting her now, and she’s glad for it. Now she has something to blame for the hotness in her cheeks and the inability to stop smiling since the moment Lottie grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her up here. Chilling with Lottie is entirely different than hanging with Jackie. Night and day. Lottie guides but doesn’t push—always has this look of, you can say no if you want. She’s not strict and regimented, nothing is planned. Shauna can almost see her gears turning as she comes up with their next thing. Whereas Jackie has to have everything go her way and be what she wants, no chances to deny.

With a groan Shauna brings her hands up to her face, which alerts Lottie enough to shift beside her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Shauna says with a sigh, pulling her hands away to send a sideway glance to the girl beside her. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Jackie?” She nods and Lottie bites her lip, both of them silent for a long while as one song transitions into the next. “What are you thinking about her?”

“Just…” Shauna pauses, unsure how to put this. With another sigh, she gives up trying to not make this pathetic. “It’s like with everything I do or say there’s this little voice in the back of my mind telling me what Jackie would think, or say, about it. Even when I’m away from her it feels like she’s here— haunting me.” When she’s met with silence she hesitantly lifts her eye back to Lottie’s face. She doesn’t look weirded out, or upset, or anything. Neutral, unreadable. “Is that weird?”

Lottie shakes her head, “no.” Another moment of silence. “If she gets in your head, that’s not really your fault, I don’t think,” she says, and she snakes a hand up between them, nudging Shauna to face her. Her palm cups Shauna’s cheek gently, as if to hold her face in place despite the weakness of her grip. “Just… Focus on me,” she says.

“On you?”

“Yeah,” Lottie says with a small nod, squeezing Shauna’s cheek slightly when her eyes dart away from Lottie’s stare. “Look into my eyes, and I guarantee you won’t be thinking about Jackie anymore. Okay?”

Hesitantly, Shauna brings her eyes back to look into Lottie’s, her gaze deep and all consuming. Dark eyes, so sure and so full of life staring back at her. At first it feels awkward, and she gets this itch to look away. It’s too weird. But she holds it, the pressure of Lottie’s smooth palm against her cheek grounding. 

“See?” It’s a whisper, and they’re faces are closer than Shauna had realized. She can feel Lottie’s breath fan against her cheeks—the smell of vodka mingled with whatever soda she’d put into her abomination of a drink and a hint of strawberry flavoured gum. It’s almost like she’s being sucked into Lottie’s gaze, now unable to break the stare even if she didn’t—which she doesn’t, and she doesn’t quite understand that.

At some point Shauna hadn’t realized they’d started leaning closer, and when their lips meet it isn’t a surprise. No, it feels… Right.  Exactly what was supposed to happen next. Lottie’s lips are soft and gentle, unlike anyone else she’s kissed—even the few girls. Though, perhaps comparing the Lottie Matthews to Jared Huffy in Grade 8 behind 7/11 or Tai drunkenly at a party in sophomore year isn’t fair. But, even kisses after that had always felt as if there was something missing. The real kisses with people she was supposed to like. This kiss, it feels whole and full and it doesn't even make Shauna nervous like every other time.

It’s Lottie who pulls away, just a bit to look at Shauna. “Sorry,” she whispers, but the little hint of a smile suggests otherwise.

“Don’t be,” Shauna says, and maybe she’ll blame this on the alcohol too, because she presses her hand into the back of Lottie’s head and pulls her closer. Fingers tangling into strands of perfectly soft hair as she whispers, “just don’t stop,” between their lips before they meet again.

From the few times Shauna has kissed people she hadn’t thought it’d cause a whole body reaction like this. Her heart pounds and she can feel her blood in her veins and her head is swimming—but all of it is from this odd mixture of excitement and giddiness, rather than nerves. Unable to stop the small pleased sigh falling from her lips as they press closer, sinking into Lottie as her hand drifts from Shauna’s cheek to her waist, pulling her in even closer into something that half-resembles a hug.

She’s starting to wish she could do this again—and it’s not even over yet. And when Lottie pulls back and whispers, “do you want to stay over?” 

Shauna doesn’t even think of Jackie as she agrees. No, she leans back in with a quiet, “sure,” and feels her fingers tingle pleasantly against Lottie’s hair as Lottie grins into the kiss. It doesn’t escalate much, it remains soft and slow. Soon, they both pull back, out of breath and slightly dazed but grinning at one another.

Later, Shauna changes into clothes Lottie lends her after everyone else has left—she watches Lottie walk back into the room wearing silk pyjamas matching the pinstripe pink of her bedroom walls. Anything Lottie does seems to enthral her—and Shauna isn’t sure if it’s always been like this, in a subconscious sort of way, or if this is because Lottie’s the best dancer and best kisser and best everything she’s ever met.

Lottie pulls back the covers on her bed from them to climb inside, she doesn’t even hesitate. Doesn’t wonder whether she should offer to take the floor. Any fight or discomfort Shauna should or might feel in any other circumstance has dissolved, her mind too drunk and preoccupied to think of anything but Lottie, Lottie, Lottie. 

They shuffle to get comfortable, and Shauna ends up on her back, and Lottie lies facing her with a small stuffed duck under her arm. Shauna can feel her gaze—but instead of it feeling creepy, it’s more… Well, it’s comforting. In a way.

“Goodnight, Shauna.”

Another, soft kiss is pressed to her cheek and Shauna smiles, moving that little bit more closer to Lottie. “Night."