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With shaking hands, Lottie dumped the popcorn into a big plastic bowl. She felt jittery. Nervous.
It had something to do with being alone with a pretty girl in her big, loveless home. Not just any pretty girl, either, but Laura Lee. Sweet, friendly Laura Lee, who, when hanging out at the mall with the rest of the Yellowjackets two days prior, had admitted that her family's plans for New Year's Eve had fallen through thanks to a last minute change in her dad's work schedule and her mom being in the throes of winter allergies. When Lottie had heard that, she'd acted instinctively, offered to let her friend sleep over to celebrate. Laura Lee had accepted, gratefully, and Lottie didn't have the heart to admit her motivations were entirely selfish - her parents were off at some fancy party, the sort that teenagers (especially not teenagers like her, teenagers who were embarrassments to their upper class parents) were not invited to. She'd thought that she'd be stuck spending New Year's Eve alone, for the third year in a row, unless she begged her teammates to let her in on their plans. She wasn't gonna do that, though. She wasn't gonna sound desperate and attention-seeking. She wasn't so pathetic as to plead for the chance to third-wheel Tai and Van when they went to the movies, or Jackie and Shauna as they threw a two person slumber party. She wasn't gonna harp until Nat took her to whatever party (which would undoubtedly be more weed and cigarettes than anything) she was bound to be going to, or try to insert herself into the lives of the JV girls. Better to be lonely and stoic than show the only people who actually respected her just how crazy and full of yearning she really was. But then Laura Lee had spoken up, and Lottie had grabbed on to that opportunity with both hands. Now she was here, shuffling anxiously back into the living room, hoping she didn't spill the popcorn and make a fool of herself.
"Hey," she said awkwardly. Laura Lee was perched on the couch, her legs folded up all neatly, her nightgown pooling around her like water. She looked so angelic, so fucking pretty, even just looking through the Matthews family's selection of VHS tapes, that it made Lottie ache. "I brought popcorn."
"Great, thank you!" Laura Lee said cheerfully, offering Lottie a bright smile. "I was gonna pick out a movie, but, uh, these are..."
"Bad," Lottie offered. She chuckled ever so slightly as Laura Lee flushed pink and nodded. "Yeah, I know. My dad, to no one's surprise, only ever watches the most pretentious fucking movies ever. I don't even think he likes them, they're just something smart to talk about with his business colleagues. Like golf, or expensive alcohol that doesn't even taste good."
Laura Lee replied, "I've never understood that sort of mindset. It seems so backwards; like, your dad is so successful, but he spends most of his time doing things that aren't even fun, just to impress other successful people."
"That's exactly it," Lottie said, taking a seat on the couch next to Laura Lee. She placed the bowl of popcorn between them, so they could share, and so that there was a buffer. So that Lottie wasn't tempted to brush her fingers against Laura Lee's skin. "He's honestly so annoying about it, too. God, if I ever start to act like that, just fucking smack me."
"Will do," Laura Lee said. "But, for what it's worth, I don't think you're ever gonna act that way. You're too... Too... I dunno the word. You're just not like that, y'know?"
"I do know," Lottie said, even though she didn't, not really.
There was a long pause, and then Laura Lee set the VHS tapes aside, saying, "So, we could either try and find something good to watch on TV - except I'm pretty sure it's all gonna be New Years stuff and the ball drop and all of that - or we could just put on the radio or something."
"Radio," Lottie answered immediately. "I've watched the ball drop for years now while mom and dad are off at whatever party, and it's gotten real boring after all this time."
"Fair enough." Laura Lee got up and walked across the room to the small bookshelf with the radio sitting atop it. She began fiddling with the dials, and soon, the sounds of music - a blend of folk and soul and the sort of soft, crooning popular stuff from the 50s and 60s - filled the room. The two girls settled back onto the couch and began steadily munching away at the popcorn. They talked about safe, easy things, at first - soccer, school, their mutual friends and Laura Lee's family. But eventually the conversation began to eek into dangerous, uncharted territory. It started with Laura Lee offhandedly asking if Lottie's parents did this, this being leaving her alone while they went out to society events and whatnot, often. A simple enough question, one that Lottie should have been able to brush off without bearing the open wounds of her family for all to see. Except, here, pressed on the couch with Laura Lee, with no crowd of rowdy teammates to serve as a distraction, it was a lot harder to lie. (Something about Laura Lee's gaze, so bright and steady, tugged at Lottie, made her ache and yearn and want to spill her guts, unburden herself of all her secrets.)
So, Lottie had told Laura Lee the truth. That she was often alone in this too-big house, that she and her father didn't get along well, that she and her mother weren't particularly close. That, more often than not, she was lonely. And Laura had paused for a long moment, before taking Lottie's hand (an action that made butterflies riot inside the dark haired girl's stomach) and expressing sympathy. More than sympathy, really. Connection. Turned out Laura got the whole loneliness thing. She had her friends, of course, from school and church, but she never quite felt wholly embraced by those friends. She was too religious for people at school, too adventurous for people at church. Unlike Lottie, she got along well with her family, especially her Grandpa, who she said was certifiably cool - he had been a pilot during WW2 and had since lived a life filled with exciting people and uninhibited honesty - but she feared what would happen once she flew the nest.
"It's like, I don't know... I guess it's just scary to think that I'll grow up and go through life and never have a best friend or even just a group of lifelong friends," Laura Lee said. "I know envy is a sin, but whenever I see, like, Jackie and Shauna being all joined at the hip, I'm jealous."
"Yeah," Lottie agreed. She nudged the now empty popcorn bowl with one toe, causing it to teeter. "I feel the same way. Like I'm on the outside looking in. Like I'm always gonna be left out of all this important shit. Like-"
"Like what?" Laura Lee asked, when it became clear that Lottie wasn't going to continue without prompting.
"Like no one's ever gonna see me entirely and love me anyways." She proceeded to grimace at her own words. "Yikes, I sound so nihilistic."
Laura Lee shifted positions, so she was hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop them at the same time. A lock of blonde hair fell in her face, and Lottie had to fight the urge to reach out and brush it back.
"Do you wanna know a secret?" Laura asked, voice soft.
"Sure," Lottie responded, slightly confused, more than slightly eager. She wasn't sure how they had gone from being morose about their loneliness and their fear of adulthood to this. What she was sure of was that she wanted to know whatever secret Laura Lee was offering up. Lottie had always been slightly nosy, always ready to hear whatever gossip the people around her had to share, but this was more than that. This was about her and Laura and intimacy. It was about the way Lottie wanted the blonde's friendship, and the way Lottie's stomach flipped whenever she touched her.
"Whenever my parents spend New Years Eve together, they follow that one tradition, where they kiss at midnight. Granddad and Grandma used to do it too, back before Grandma passed away. Granddad always said it was for good luck. I dunno if that's true, but it always seemed so sweet to me - the last act of one year and the first act of a new one being a kiss." Her smile was bittersweet as she spoke. "I always hoped that I'd get a New Years Eve kiss of my own, someday. 'Cept it's not like I've been kissed on even a normal day, so I think that dream is a long way off."
Lottie's heart was pounding, now. Thudding along with whatever quick little ditty was playing on the radio. Thud, thud, thud. No stopping. She didn't trust herself to speak when Laura Lee unwound and got to her feet, asking if there was juice in the fridge. Lottie could only nod, nod and watch every movement Laura made as she left the room. Soon as she was gone, Lottie balled her hands into fists and bit the inside of her cheek, trying to make the terrible, tempting idea running through her wacko brain dissipate. Trying to repress her irrepressible self. And failing at it, of course, same as she failed at meeting her parents' standards of normalcy.
Laura Lee's bare feet padded dully against the floor as she returned, two glasses of apple cider - nonalcoholic, of course, this was Laura, after all - in hand. She set them both on the coffee table. Lottie's mouth felt dry.
"Thank you," she said, voice wobbling ever so slightly. Laura Lee, fortunately, did not seem to notice.
"No problem," she responded. "By the way, we're like eight minutes to midnight."
"Damn, already. I didn't even notice," Lottie said. Her common sense and her violent pining warred within her mind - it was now or never. Her heart kept up its unstoppable drumming. Thud, thud, thud.
"Y'know," she said after a moment, unable to stop herself from giving in to her probably destructive impulses. Unable to stop herself from biting down on the fruit of knowledge, knowing fully well it would shatter the illusion of Eden. "I had this idea. About your New Years' kiss dream, I mean."
"Oh? What's that?"
"It sounds sweet, and, I mean, we could both use a little good luck right now. And a kiss doesn't have to be, like, a kiss-kiss. It can still mean something even if its just a peck or whatever," Lottie said in a rush, like she couldn't get the words out of her fast enough. "Besides, friendly kisses are a thing. Friends kiss."
"They do?" Laura Lee questioned. She, thankfully, didn't sound scornful or upset, merely confused.
"Yeah. They'll, like, practice kissing and shit," Lottie said. "Shauna said she and Jackie used to do it back in like eight grade. And sometimes after games and shit the girls will kiss each other on the cheek or the forehead or whatever. It's just another way of showing your friends you care."
"That makes sense," Laura Lee said. Her cheeks appeared rosy pink, but that might have been a trick of the light, Lottie thought. "It might be nice, too."
"Really?"
She shrugged. "It'd be nice to kiss someone who's my friend. It'd, like, take the pressure of a first kiss or a New Years Kiss off, if it were with you."
"Y-yeah. Right," Lottie stammered. Her eyes were wide. She hadn't thought this would happen. She had assumed Laura Lee would reject her, probably with some measure of kindness, but a thorough rejection all the same. After all, Lottie was Lottie, weird and lonely and sick, always rejected when she dared to show her messy innards to anyone. But Laura Lee had surprised her. (A pang of guilt coursed through her - Laura had no idea that, like when she had originally been invited over, Lottie had an ulterior motive at play.)
They sat next to each other and sipped their cider, but this time they were pressed side by side, legs brushing. The popcorn bowl had been moved, leaving no barrier between Lottie and the beautiful girl she was somehow going to be able to kiss at midnight. Well, if she didn't chicken out - that was still very much a possibility.
A new song began to play, soft and slow. Auld Lang Syne. Laura Lee hummed along as a woman's bright voice filled the room, the classic song of New Year's Eve creeping into every crevice of the big, empty house, warming its chilly depths. Lottie leaned her head back and listened.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
When the last chords of the song faded out, Lottie found Laura Lee looking at her. Distantly, she realized that the radio announcer had come on, beginning the countdown to the New Year. 10, 9, 8 - was Lottie really going to do this? She leaned forward, ever so slightly, but then froze. Terrified that if she went through with it, she could ruin everything, she could stomp out every bit of light beginning to blossom between her and Laura Lee. 7, 6, 5, 4-
Laura Lee darted forward and closed the gap between their mouths.
-3, 2, 1. Happy New Year!
It was chaste kiss, just a quick press of lips against lips. Hardly anything, really. But also, it was everything, at least to Lottie. And perhaps it was everything to Laura Lee, too, because when she pulled back, her eyes were shimmering like sapphires and her cheeks were definitely flushed, no trick of the light this time. She let out a little giggle, her mouth (the mouth that Lottie had just been kissed by) pulled into a smile.
"That was-"
"Hopefully as good as you wanted it to be," Lottie interjected, finding herself smiling too. The fear was still there, but it had been chased back into the shadows by the burning of desire, of tenderness, of possibility that the kiss had brought on.
"Well, I don't have much to compare it to," Laura Lee said teasingly. Then her expression turned sincere. "But it was great. Thank you, Lottie."
Don't thank me, she thought. As much as I wanted to make you happy, I wanted even more to kiss you. Aloud, however, she said, "Of course. Any time."
That made Laura Lee laugh again. She had no idea how completely serious Lottie was being.
Celebration crackled across the radio and, in the distance, fireworks fizzed and popped. They were inevitably set off by the usual crowd of people who took joy in them illegally and then made a display of it. (Not that Lottie could blame them for being so reckless - if they lived in her neighborhood, at least, there was no way they were getting in trouble for it. Rich people privilege and all that.) Somewhere in the area, a car-horn blared.
As the sounds of the New Year being rung in filled the world, Laura Lee pulled Lottie into a fierce hug. Lottie startled, for a second, but then hugged the blonde girl back, just as fiercely. "Happy New Year, Lottie," Laura Lee whispered.
"Happy New Year, Laura Lee," Lottie murmured. Her lips still buzzed from the kiss. What a way to begin 1996. And if this was only the start of it...
Who knew what else the year would bring.