Chapter Text
As it turns out, being on the high school soccer team is fucking expensive. The entry fee pays the equipment maintenance and travel expenses, but all the extra gear and uniforms you need are not included in it.
Which is pretty inconvenient for Nat because her parents are broke and so is she.
She takes up a few jobs over the years, but always ends up fired one way or another. She tries her best, really, but sometimes that's not enough. Her last option this year is working at the diner down the main road. Coincidentally, that's also where Misty Quigley works.
It's fine, for the most part.
Misty may be overenthusiastic, but the customers love talking with her. The regulars are mostly retirees. They seem lonely. They come over at the same time every week. Misty seems right in her element, making conversation with them.
She also often does some of Nat’s chores when she forgets, without even asking. It’s nice.
She's a little clumsy, though. Sometimes she trips on her own feet. She can't carry more than two plates at once and even then it’s unstable. That's okay, Natalie can do the heavy lifting.
After a while Misty starts to share her snacks with her when they're both on a break. It’s often a fruit, like cut apples or green grapes, but sometimes it's chocolate. Natalie's pretty sure Misty doesn't like chocolate. She always makes a face when she takes a bite and then she gives all of the rest to Nat, claiming she's not hungry for it. It's a bit strange, but she won't say no to candy.
So for the most part, it's all fine and dandy.
It gets annoying when people from the school come in.
Exhibit A:
When Shauna comes here to eat with her mom sometimes. It gets awkward.
Fortunately, Misty will happily fill in for her.
Exhibit B:
Whenever the football team comes in. Worst of all is Brad Adler. He is a pain in the ass. He’s always too loud, always makes a mess and always talks to her boobs instead of her face.
Like right now, as she begrudgingly trudges towards his table.
"Hi. Can I take your order?"
"Sure.” He smirks up at her, leaning back on the cushion of the booth. “Are those breasts on the menu?"
Natalie wants to punch his teeth in. She doesn't. She can't really afford to lose her job right now.
So instead she flashes her teeth in a half-snarl, grinding them hard enough for the noise to ring in her skull, and manages a stunted 'haha' past her lips.
She feels a headache forming just past her eyeballs as she walks back behind the counter. She clenches her hands in tight fists to prevent them from doing anything stupid-- like throwing plates at stupid boys with stupid loud mouths and stupid wandering hands.
Misty shoots her a smile as she walks past her with a kettle in her hands.
"What a jerk," she whispers, tilting her head towards her like they're sharing a secret.
She's grinning and Natalie thinks there's a joke she should be in on, but she can't figure out what it is.
"Yeah. Fucking asshole," she agrees. (She doesn't bother lowering her voice.)
And then Misty’s skipping towards the asshole's table, the biggest customer smile Natalie's ever seen stretching at her lips.
"Do you boys need any more coffee?"
"We're good." He dismisses her with a wave of his hand. He doesn't even glance her way. Natalie's anger licks at her throat like fire trying to get out.
But Misty doesn't take her cue to leave. She just stands there. And slowly, so slowly, Natalie can see the kettle tipping forward until steaming coffee pours down on Brad’s pants and he jumps out of his seat, screaming incoherent curse words.
"Oh my," Misty gasps, looking horrified and terribly sorry. "I'm such a clutz!"
And really, that’s all it takes to make Natalie start cackling.
She tries not to put people in the same boxes as others put her in, but sometimes she just can't help but assume. There is something so innocent about Misty Quigley. It might be her kitty print shirts or her pastel striped sweaters or the cute clips in her hair or the way she bounces on her feet whenever she gets excited, but whatever it is made Nat think she was as gentle and non-violent as a lamb.
While she originally had no intention of getting to know Misty past her name and the quirky way she seems to present herself, Natalie has no other choice than to be faced with the complexities of her humanity.
Misty Quigley is more faceted and intricate than the title of 'nerd' or 'weirdo' that most people put on her. She breathes air and she has trouble styling her hair and she smells like peaches and she loops her 'g's, 'j's and 'y's when she takes orders on her heart-shaped notepad and— sometimes, she pours boiling hot coffee on rude customers.
When it’s finally her time for a break, Natalie rushes to get her carton of smokes and her lighter from her jacket and pushes the backdoor open.
Her dress feels rough against her skin, her ponytail too tight on her scalp, and the weather is a little bit too chilly to be outside without a jacket— maybe she should’ve just brought the whole coat out with her— but she needed to get some air. Customer service can be annoying, but it’s nothing a quick smoke can’t fix.
(She knows the irony behind needing air and smoking a cigarette, thank you very much.)
After a few seconds of inhaling tobacco and nicotine, the back door squeaks open again and Misty steps out, 2 garbage bags in her hands.
“Oh, hey Nat! Just taking out the trash,” she sing-songs with a grin, shaking the bags a little bit for emphasis. She fully expects her to start informing her about the effects of nicotine and smoke on her lungs when her eyes stutter at the sight of the cancer stick dangling from her lips, but she just continues walking towards the bins.
Something twists in her guts and pushes up her throat and against the back of her teeth before it slithers out.
"Misty?"
She whirls around.
“Yes?”
"Why did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"You know..."
"Sorry—" she smiles, shaking her head slightly— "Could you be more specific?"
"Why did you pour coffee on Brad?"
"Oh! Well," she chuckles, an awkward smile hanging on her lips. "He was a jerk. He was being mean."
"I've seen people being mean to you before. You didn't pour hot coffee on them."
"Maybe I just didn't have hot coffee with me."
Natalie barks out a laugh, almost dropping her cigarette.
Misty cocks her head like a confused puppy. For a moment, she just stands, a tiny frown digging between her brows, but then another smile stretches at her lips. Natalie can't tell if she's confused over Nat finding her funny or if she just was completely serious.
They stay there for a while, Misty smiling at the ground and Nat smoking her cig. Misty still hasn't put the trash bags in the trash. Natalie flicks her cigarette butt on the ground and flattens it under her boot.
"Are you free this Saturday?"
Misty hums in question, looking back up with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. It pops out shiny when she talks. "Saturday? I think so. I mean, I have some homework I need to finish, but that won't take too much time. And I usually clean the house on Saturdays too. There's also a show that I like at four--"
"There's a party."
"Oh."
"It's at ten, at Randy's. You should come."
"Oh! Okay. Yeah, okay, I'll come."
Nat wants to thank her for pouring coffee on Brad. She doesn't really know how else to. She figures it'll do though, if Misty's grin is anything to go by.
"Do you know his address?"
"Yes, he doesn't live too far away from my house."
"Good. I'll see you there, then."
Misty beams at her and before she can overthink the fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach, she turns around to go back inside the diner, leaving Misty with her trash bags and her enormous smile.
Of course, her plan isn't to hang with Misty tonight. She just invited her to pay her back. No, she just wants to drink lots of booze, talk to the few nice people at Randy Walsh's house and hang out with Rich and Kevyn in Kev’s car. She'll probably smoke a joint or two with Lottie and Laura Lee before leaving, play beer pong with Van and Melissa in between getting drunk and making bets with Shauna on who will choke first while doing the keg stand. Just the usual nice stuff.
The plan doesn't turn out the way she wanted it to. It never does.
She does drink lots of booze and talks with a few nice people but, while she's smoking a cigarette outside, Brad Adler comes over to bother her. She sees him sauntering towards her and she has half a mind to stomp out her cig and walk back inside, but she's not about to waste a good smoke for an asshole.
“Hey Nat.”
He's got one of those smiles that's a little bit gross to look at.
“Piss off, Bradley.”
That manages to wipe the nasty smirk off his face.
“Brad,” he corrects her. He puts his hands in the pockets of his letterman and plants his feet square in front of her, taking as much space as he possibly can without actually touching her. “Anyways, what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”
She scoffs.
“Really? Does that usually work for you?”
“I mean…” He shrugs. “Usually, nobody can resist a bod’ like mine.”
She hums while inhaling the smoke and blows it in his face with a smirk of her own.
“I’m sure.”
He frowns, waving the smoke away with a cough.
“Why are you being such a prude? I just wanna have fun.”
“Well, you're not my idea of fun, so fuck off.”
He groans, looking up at the night sky and stomping his foot like a little boy having a tantrum.
“I thought you were supposed to be easy.”
Natalie guffaws. “Well, that sure makes me wanna jump on your dick!”
“Really?”
“Are you dense?” She spits at his feet. “The fuck do you think?”
“Hey, watch it!” He steps back to avoid getting his shoes dirty. “C’mon, don't be like that, Natalie.”
She rolls her eyes. “Isn't your dick burnt anyways? Does it even work anymore?”
He sucks his upper lip between his teeth and shrugs again, raising his eyebrows.
“I don’t know, wanna try?”
She wishes she had a drink to dump on him. Instead, she tries to find another distraction. It's with pure luck (or bad luck) that she finds Misty walking from the side of the house, looking around her with the biggest eyes.
She takes one last drag before tossing her cigarette and walking away from Brad, towards Misty.
“What— Where are you— We’re not done here Nat!”
She gives him the middle finger over her head.
When Misty notices her, she beams and waves.
“Um, Hi.”
She grasps her own wrist in a jerky motion. Her body feels weird like her skin doesn't fit right over her bones. She slips her hand into Misty’s. She doesn't know why she does it, but Misty’s hand is soft and warm so she doesn't drop it. It makes her feel a bit better, for some reason. Maybe she's a little too tipsy. Maybe she should've just gone back inside.
Misty is looking at their hands when a soft ‘Oh!’ slips past her lips. Her eyes drag up back to Nat’s and she squeezes her hand gently. “Hi Nat!”
“Hey.”
“Nat,” Brad says, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I thought we were having a conversation.”
She shrugs him off and glares at him.
“Oh, eat my dick, Brad. Leave me the fuck alone.”
“Is everything okay?” Misty’s thumb is stroking her hand now. It’s distracting.
“Who even are you anyways?”
There is a lot happening right now. Brad’s too strong cologne, Misty's too bright shirt, Misty's too soft hand…
When Nat looks up from their intertwined hands, Misty has a deep frown on her face, like she just got slapped. She wants to slap Brad, to avenge her, but her impulsiveness leads her to another form of revenge.
Adrenaline makes her hold Misty's neck and lean down to crash their lips together. It's not a good kiss by any means: she hurts her nose on Misty's glasses when they slide down and their teeth knock together. She's about to lean back and step away, but Misty's hands snake up her hips and the surprise makes Nat stutter and the kiss lasts a little too long.
When she does break up the kiss, it takes her a moment to understand what just happened. Her eyes flutter open to Misty already staring up at her, confusion written all over the lines of her face.
She’s about to say something, anything, but Brad beats her to it, reminding her that he's still standing right there next to them.
“What the fuck? Are you a fucking dyke?”
She clears her throat. “So what if I am? Fuck off, you cunt.”
He’s looking at her like she's grown a second head, or maybe lost her own (which would be a good explanation for how stupid she’s being.)
(Why the fuck did she just kiss Misty Quigley?)
“Whatever, freak.”
And just like that, he leaves.
Natalie needs another drink.
She drops Misty’s hand and starts stomping away towards the front of the house, fog in her brain and her tongue heavy in her mouth.
“Nat, wait! Where are you going?”
Natalie sighs, looking back at Misty.
“Look Misty… Just— enjoy the party, okay?”
She doesn't wait for an answer.
And maybe kissing Misty was an attestation to how getting drunk is a bad idea, but who is Natalie if not the queen of making terrible decisions?
No matter how much she drinks, she can't seem to forget the smell of peaches and the taste of strawberries on her lips.