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Van knew everything she needed to about Taissa Turner the first time she stepped foot in Tai’s bedroom. It was a brief couple of minutes, a quick stop between a summer practice and the movie theater for Taissa to collect herself. But her room whispered something of a secret to Van.
Van had always known she didn’t like boys, and she had never been particularly successful at hiding that fact; not that she had tried. She had never said it out loud before, she had never told anyone. But that was only because she figured everyone just kind of knew . It was clear to her, from the way she dressed to the way she acted, and she was pretty sure it was clear to others. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but it wasn’t a fact she shared.
Taissa Turner’s room was one, high masted, rainbow flag. Besides the ‘Playboy’ magazine lazily shoved under the bed with edges sticking out (just enough for Van to see some poor girl’s boob on the cover), Taissa Turner’s room was a scrapbook of tiny, queer, momentos. Posters of Cindy Crawford and Sandra Bullock were plastered on the wall over the plush bed. An Ani Di Franco record sat propped up next to her record player, directly next to a stack of Melissa Ethridge CDs. A book of Emily Dickenson’s work laid open on her desk, annotated with little hearts and doodles around certain phrases. Simple, little, things that no one else would be able to pick up on. Nobody but Van, that was.
The realization came with sudden, striking, ease; the bigger picture piecing itself together like a puzzle. Everything Van knew about Taissa just added to the theory. The way she had never had a boyfriend even though she was constantly being asked out by douches on the football team and the rich children of her parent’s friends. The way she couldn’t stop herself from ranting when Ross and Rachel kissed on ‘Friends’ about how she was too good for him.
The way she insisted on holding Van’s pinky at parties, keeping her close enough for fruit scented perfume to linger in Van’s nostrils. Van had assumed it was so she wouldn’t get separated from the group, but maybe-
She tried to shake away the thought, but a new memory popped up in its place.
The way she laid her head in Van’s lap whenever they watched movies in her trailer, one of her hands always resting on Van’s knee.
And then something Taissa had said a few weeks prior, which Van tried so intently to forget about, crawled back through her mind.
The way she had drunkenly admitted that she would date Van if she were a guy.
Click. The last piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place; a little detail so integral to the bigger picture of it all. If she had dropped the “If you were a guy,” that line was just a factual statement. Better yet, that line was an admission of affection.
Sure, she had thought of Tai like that for years. She had absolutely almost succumbed to the rouge thought of pulling Taissa in and kissing her; numerous times. But, for some reason, this was the only time her mind had let her fumble with this possibility. A possibility that was abruptly so real and sat less like a question and more like a fact in Van’s chest. The possibility that Taissa liked her back.
~~~
Van kept her revelation to herself for the first few days, nervous to take things too far and cause a blowout of epic proportions.
But it couldn’t be denied, there was a Taissa Turner shaped black hole where her brain used to be, pulling all of her common sense into its expanse.
Her sense of self-preservation, well, that would be next to go.
~~~
Van couldn’t have explained why the team chose to be around each other all the time, they just did. They were inexplicably close in a way that dodged all reasoning or logic, no matter how hard Van tried to wrap her head around it. They wouldn’t admit to each other, or anyone else. In fact, they would adamantly deny it if questioned. Not a single member of the team would openly admit that they were more than just that, a team, whether it be out of pride or desire to uphold perceptions and reputations. But they were friends, even if they wouldn’t say it.
It was commonplace for the team to take advantage of Lottie’s resort-sized pool and absentee parents during the summer. Whoever had nothing better to do could just show up when they pleased, no set time or any sort of agenda. Lottie never seemed to mind the spontaneity of it all, and, to Van, that was part of her charm; the way spontaneity became her routine.
That particular Thursday afternoon, just a few members of the varsity team had shown up to waste away the fleeting, summer day in the Matthews’ backyard. When Van had done a head count for their makeshift game of Volleyball, it had just been her, Natalie, Lottie, Shauna, and Laura Lee.
And Taissa, Taissa was there too.
Something Van had noticed while taking said head count, she had begun the count at two. Her and Taissa were rarely ever apart, so Van had defaulted to starting at two instead of one. That summer, they’d only been apart for a few hours at a time. It had become safer to assume that Tai was there if Van was.
It was kind of like a scientific law; where there is Van Palmer, there must also be Taissa Turner.
Van was one of the few girls who let herself swim. Not that the other girls wouldn’t get in the pool, but most of them refused to get their hair wet. Natalie, for example, would idle in the shallow end or just dangle her feet off the edge. Laura Lee, who never took her modest shorts and tee shirt off, would do the same. Lottie would submerge for a few seconds, just to get out and sit on the edge with Nat until she got warm.
Taissa barely ever went near the pool. Sure, she wore a bathing suit, but Van was certain it was just a tactic to keep Van’s eyes on her at all times. Most of the time, she sat on a chaise reading.
Van, though, Van rarely ever left the pool. She would get out with pruned fingertips and wet hair, knotted and dripping with chlorinated water. She could count on Shauna and the J.V girls to keep her company during the day, most of whom would entertain her childish desire to play chicken or Marco Polo.
That night, Van got out of the pool well after sun set, after Laura Lee and Shauna had left for the day. It was usually like that, Natalie, Taissa, and herself staying the latest.
Taissa was still on the chaise when she got out, still glued to her book. Van just couldn’t get over how delicate her fingers looked holding ivory pages in her palm.
“Tai.” Van cooed, sitting down on the chaise by Taissa’s feat.
“Van.” Taissa responded, half-closing her book and cocking an eyebrow at her.
“Hi.” Van had absolutely know idea what she was doing, but she was doing it, and there was absolutely no stopping her from basking in her own inability to talk to girls (This girl, to dig into the specifics).
Taissa readjusted, her back sliding up the chair. “Do you need something?” She asked, placing her book on the ground by them.
Van, still rolling like a pig in the filth that was her own stupidity, responded , “Could you brush my hair? You do it better than me.”
“Fine,” Taissa sighed in response, reaching down into the bag by her chair and pulling out a plastic hair brush. Van knew Taissa kept it in her bag not out of personal necessity, but out of the knowledge that Van often found herself needing one and never actually had one. That was one of the many things that made Van insanely, drooling mad for Taissa.
In the time it took for Van to revel in Tai’s dedication to her hair health, Taissa had placed herself right up to Van’s back, so close Van could feel her breath. Her soft fingers ran the brush through Van’s hair with such tenderness, a careful desire not to snag a knot. An intention to not hurt her. No matter how tough Taissa was or how intimidating others found her, that was just how she was to Van.
Taissa’s fingers gently landed on Van’s scalp, holding her head in place, and Van could sense a tingle run down her back from the contact. A tingle she hoped Taissa couldn’t feel.
“You’re a codependent little fuck, you know that right?” Tai said, scooting back to place the hairbrush back in her bag.
“You love it, babe.” Van shot back, pretending to be cool and nonchalant. She lifted herself up, strolling away to Lottie and Nat. In the porch light, from across the yard, she could’ve sworn she saw Taissa Turner blush.
~~~
“Alanis or Melissa Ethridge? Your pick.” Taissa offered, keys in the ignition but the car still parked in her driveway. She held a tape in each of her hands.
“Alanis, obviously.” Van answered, plucking the tape from her hand and jamming it in the player.
It had been a few days since they had been to Lottie's house, Lottie being out of town for the week. They still found activities to occupy themselves during the day. Always together, of course. By Wednesday, they were running out of options. It was either bowling or another movie day at Van’s. They had opted for bowling.
Van had planned out her next step days in advance. She knew she needed a calculated attack, something that would leave Taissa thinking about her. Van, attentive as she was, knew that Taissa left her right hand on the center console while she drove, her left hand solely steering.
Van couldn’t look Taissa in her gorgeous, golden, eyes when she did it, but nonetheless, she slipped her hand into Taissa’s on that drive to the bowling alley. Taissa didn’t pull away until she parked the car.
~~~
The movie theater was their haven on Friday nights. Every Friday, without fail, after a draining practice, Tai and Van would race to the theater to catch a 7:30 showing of their throwbacks series. During the summers they would still go. To Van, it felt like a date.
That specific Friday, they had just enough time to raid the concessions stand before ‘The Breakfast Club.’
“Two cokes and a large popcorn.” She had told the cashier, a kid barely older than them. Taissa placed a 10 dollar bill on the counter.
When the cashier disappeared to grab their food, Van enacted the most nerve racking part of her plan yet:
Verbally flirting with Taissa.
Van was not known for her sultry charm or suaveness. She was not even known for her broad, romantic appeal. She was known for being funny, because that’s what she did best. She did not flirt with girls and she did not get flirted with. This was uncharted territory. But, to Van, any alien concept was worth exploring for Tai.
“A coke for me too? Am I being wined and dined?” Van asked, leaning her elbows onto the counter.
“Huh?” Taissa crossed her arms, looking endearingly bewildered. “What? No.”
“Sucks.” Van said as casually as possible, she mocked picking dirt from under her nails for emphasis.
“What? Why?” Tai bit back, her expansive vocabulary seemingly slipping from her ivy league brain.
“No reason at all.” Van stated, grabbing her drink and the popcorn from the cashier upon his return.
Their seats were in the back of the theater that night, not unintentionally. Van seized her well planned opportunity like an earned reward for her hard work. While the principal yelled at Bender, Van slipped her arm over Taissa’s shoulders. Tai didn’t say anything or even look at Van, which she took as a good thing.
Van knew Taissa hated rom-coms, especially when the girl changed for the guy. Taissa had never failed to voice her complaints after watching a romance movie. But, that night, Taissa seemed perfectly content walking out of the theater.
~~~
Van had a distinct knack for misreading the room and saying unwelcome things. It was a core element of her personality. She often felt like she said the wrong thing at the wrong time. This time though, she knew she had gone too far.
It was a Tuesday, Coach Martinez had organized a summer practice for the Varsity girls. He tried to hold a practice once a week during the off season, just for a few hours, to keep the girls on their a-game.
The thing about Taissa was, although she didn’t mean to, she took the summer scrimmages remarkably seriously. She was passionate. It was one of the many things Van admired about her.
That day, she went just as extreme as she usually did. She yelled, she ordered, she commanded the field. At one point, she was so intently focused on carrying the ball across the field, she accidentally knocked Mari over. Van heard a whistle blow, shrill and slicing through the commotion on the field.
“Foul! Turner, be more careful!” Coach Martinez called. “Everyone, take a ten and cool down!”
Van watched as Taissa made her way over to a bench, taking a huge swig of her water and sitting down. Everyone else was chatting. Taissa was strategizing her next play.
Van knew Taissa hated being called out, especially when it wasn’t really her fault. She knew Tai’s goal was to seem perfect, even if she recognized that no one was perfect. Tai, though, was as close to perfect as Van could fathom.
Van snaked her away around the crowd of girls, landing behind Tai on the bench. This wasn’t part of her plan, but she leaned down to whisper in Taissa’s ear.
“If it makes you feel better, I thought it was hot.”
Van knew the second she said it that it probably was not a good idea to do that at practice; in front of everyone. She couldn’t even pluck up the courage to look Taissa in the face after saying it, she just wandered off to talk to Lottie and Natalie.
Taissa absolutely threw the rest of the game, and Van was sure it wasn’t at all intentional. She tripped over her feet. She accidentally lost the ball; more than once. She even let Jackie steal the ball from her, something she would never let happen before.
After the scrimmage, in the locker room, Van still couldn’t face Taissa. Her plan was just to wait it out by sticking her face in her locker, pretending to be busy, until Taissa left. But after 20 minutes, everyone had gone back to Lottie’s place to swim except for Van and Taissa.
“Palmer!” Taissa had shouted, after Jackie and Shauna had wandered away. Van turned around, closing her locker and then leaning her back to it.
“Yeah?” She answered, resigning herself to her terrible, awful, vengeful, fate.
“What was that?” Taissa started locking in on her, staring daggers and stepping closer.
“I’m sorry I-” Van tried to reason, but it was pointless. Taissa was mad and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
“You threw me. You cost me the game.” Taissa interrupted. She was only a few feet away now. Van could feel her imminent death
“I know-” Van made a valiant attempt to save herself, but Taissa kept going.
“You can’t do that, you can’t fuck with me like that.” She scolded. Van felt like she was a child who had just gotten caught coloring on the wall with crayon.
“I know, I shouldn’t have.” Van was finally able to spit out. “I regretted it as soon as I said it. You have every right to be upset with me. I’m really sorry, Tai.”
To Van’s surprise, Tai’s face dropped and she stepped closer. “Don’t you dare fucking apologize, Palmer.”
With that, Van’s back was pressed even harder against the lockers, and Taissa’s mouth was on hers.
The kiss was filled with the passion that Van admired about Taissa. It was fiery and warm, it was raw. It was tongues and teeth and heavy breaths. It was messy, but in the best way. It was real.
Taissa pulled back after what felt like centuries, enough time had passed for dynasties to fall and wars to be fought and won.
“Never do that during an actual game or you’re toast, understand?” She posed, still holding onto Van.
“Yes ma’am.” Van responded. This time, it was Van who pulled Taissa in.