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The first time Nat sees her, she nearly takes Nat’s breath away. Literally. With a tennis ball aimed at her throat.
Okay. Let’s rewind. It went like this:
Nat is minding her own business, on her way to the dorms after her last afternoon class. She’s got her earphones in, thinking about an assignment she needs to finish and the deadline breathing down her neck, completely unaware of her surroundings and the impending death headed her way. By the time she does notice something—a small shadow—like that of a meteorite hurtling towards her—it’s already too late. She turns her head and her entire life flashes before her eyes. The meteorite turns out to be a tennis ball that flies right past her neck. It doesn’t actually hit her but, fuck. It was a close call.
Nat barely has any time to process what just happened when she sees a girl running towards her.
“I’m so sorry about that! Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Nat mumbles, taking out one earbud but not bothering to let it drop, holding it close to her ear. “You should try harder to kill me next time. I was really hoping to die before midterms.”
She’s actually not pissed, just tired, but she thinks her affinity for sarcasm and the way she has to narrow her eyes against the sunlight might be making her seem angrier than she is because the girl looks taken aback. She just stands there, staring at Nat, until someone shouts something in the distance. Nat can’t hear what, exactly, but probably the girl’s name, because she perks up all of a sudden, blinking like she was having some kind of a waking dream.
“Yeah...I’m—um. I’m really sorry.” She gives a smile, an awkward wave, then she sprints past Nat.
Nat raises her eyebrows, puts the earphone back in, and continues walking. She digs out her phone and opens the group chat. It blew up while she was in class, once again. From the looks of it, it’s one of Jackie’s daily crises. She scrolls past all the new messages. She’ll read them later. Or not.
nat
i just had an attempt made on my life
jackie
finally
shauna
why didn't they finish the job
nat
why am i friends with you
Nat doesn’t think about it again.
That is, until three days later, when she runs into that girl again. To be more precise: that girl falls out of a tree and nearly knocks Nat out.
It’s less like falling and more like landing gracefully on her feet, actually, but it scares the shit out of Nat nonetheless. What are the odds of nearly getting hospitalized on campus, by the same fucking girl, for the second time this week?
Leaves are falling around them like slow, green rain, and the girl looks at her with wide brown eyes. “I'm so sorry. I nearly hit you, didn’t I?”
There are leaves stuck in her long, tousled hair. The collar of her purple polo shirt is stretched, the buttons came undone, her collarbones glistening with sweat. It's borderline inappropriate.
Nat licks her lips. “It’s fine." She clears her throat. "I’m fine.”
The girl laughs a little, awkwardly. She plucks a leaf out of her hair, shaking her head like she's in a fucking shampoo commercial. She smiles, and lifts her hands to gather the long fall of her hair, combing it back into a ponytail. “I thought my tennis ball was stuck in the tree,” she says. “That’s what I was doing up there.”
“I didn't ask,” Nat blurts out, promptly walking past her without even saying goodbye, and okay, maybe she could have handled that better.
She could’ve tried a bit harder to not come off as an asshole but...can you blame her? The girl who nearly killed her twice might just be the most attractive person Nat has seen on this campus and she absolutely does not have time to deal with that thought right now. She’s late for her 4pm seminar.
Nat is more diligent than most people give her credit for, believe it or not. She actually wants to do good on her midterms, which is why she spent the last couple of days studying, and studying, and studying. In other words: she's been busy. Too busy to think about her. And why would she? There's no point in letting that girl invade her thoughts. The chances of meeting her again are very slim, anyway, when Nat doesn’t even know her name or her major.
But it’s like the stars keep aligning or some shit. To put it more morbidly, it’s like God keeps sending an Angel of Death to strike her down but Nat keeps avoiding death, just barely. In other words: she runs into that girl again, just over a week later. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that girl runs into her. At full speed. In the hallway. Just when Nat rounds a corner—there she is—the bane of her existence—colliding with Nat so hard she almost falls down on her ass.
“I’m so sorry. Someone spilled soda on me and I was rushing to the bathroom and—oh. It’s you." She stops babbling, and bites her lip, and fucking pushes back her hair, like she doesn’t have any idea how many heart palpitations she’s causing Nat right now. "It's funny. We keep meeting like this."
But Nat's brain is setting off all kinds of alarms that sound like: fuck, fuck, fuck. She quickly takes off her leather jacket and shoves it towards the girl's chest because her white shirt is wet and sticking to her skin in places and Nat can literally see her fucking bra—anyone could see her bra. Is she out of her mind?!
"I was actually wondering—”
"Get out of my school," Nat snarls, and mentally cringes at how she phrased that. "I mean, go home and change."
Fuck.
She can't get out of there fast enough. The rapid pace of her footsteps on the ground seems to match the heartbeat pounding wildly in her ears.
“I swear to God, she’s trying to kill me,” Nat sighs, head in her hands, staring at a mustard stain on the table, in their usual spot in the cafeteria.
Jackie doesn't even bother to look up from her phone or stop texting Shauna, as she offers her unsolicited opinion. “She's not trying to kill you.”
“You don’t even know who I’m talking about.”
“I know you’re being dramatic."
Nat lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah? Then why did she send her purple fucks to follow me around?”
“What?”
Nat leans back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. “Take a look behind you. The table near the vending machine.”
Jackie glances over her shoulder, then rolls her eyes, amused. “Okay. First of all, that’s the tennis club. They all wear purple in the tennis club." She puts down her phone and picks up her plastic fork, pointing the tines at Nat. "Second of all..." She finally digs into her salad like she's bored of this conversation already and Nat is being ridiculous. "They're not following you around. They are literally just sitting there minding their own business.”
Nat rolls her eyes. Tennis club. Yeah, right. Nat wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that it's actually, secretly a fucking cult.
“What’s going on?” Van drops in the seat next to Nat, stealing a nugget from her tray and casually popping it into her mouth.
“Nat thinks some girl is trying to kill her.”
Van whistles in jest. “Hot damn. What’s her name?”
“I have no fucking idea,” Nat sighs heavily, exhausted. This topic of discussion is seriously starting to give her a migraine.
“Describe her.”
“What?”
“Describe her," Van says, licking ketchup from her thumb before grabbing a napkin from Jackie's tray. "Maybe I know her.”
“Uh.” She’s fucking hot. Absurdly good-looking. Nat can’t say that. She has the prettiest eyes Nat has ever seen and an adorably canine smile that makes her heart stutter, and those legs…Jesus Christ. "I don’t know. She’s tall.”
And—there she is. Talk about the devil and she appears.
“That’s her,” Nat hisses, clinging onto Van’s sleeve with the grip of an anaconda about to swallow its prey. She watches the girl of her nightmares walk into the cafeteria like she’s walking to the beat of Uptown Funk. Like she isn't ruining Nat's life just by breathing and existing.
Jackie snorts a laugh. “You’re telling me the girl who’s trying to kill you is Lottie Matthews?”
“You know her?!”
Jackie gives a little shrug. “Kind of. We played tennis together at the country club this summer. Our parents have VIP membership there. She’s nice.”
She’s a menace, that’s what she is. Look at her: just sitting there, waving back at Jackie then having the nerve to quickly look away when she meets Nat's eyes.
“I bet she wants to take you out.”
Nat snaps her attention back to Jackie—hissing, “No shit! That’s what I’ve been telling you!”
Jackie rolls her eyes. “No, you dumbo. I’m pretty sure she wants to take you out on a date.”
“She wants me dead.”
“So you agree: she wants you.”
“Dead.”
“Well.” Jackie leans back in her seat, glancing over her shoulder again. They both watch as Lottie is bending over to pick up a coin she dropped in front of the vending machine. “She definitely puts the ass in assassin, I’ll give you that.”
And if Jackie trips on their way to the lecture hall, well—who’s to say if it was because of Nat’s leg or just karma biting her in the ass.
Nat makes a bad decision. She makes those from time to time to keep things interesting. It would get boring, having her life together like an actual functional, emotionally stable human being.
The bad decision in question is that she agreed to wearing a costume to Van's Halloween party. So, now, here she is: dressed as Michelle Pfeiffer's Catwoman at what's possibly the nerdiest gathering of people she's ever witnessed. Everyone looks ridiculous. Including herself. She feels ridiculous. She tugs the mask back from her face and goes to pour herself more of that cheap punch that doesn't have nearly enough alcohol in it.
She decides to go out in the hallway for a smoke, to clear her head, but just as she opens the door, there she is: Lottie Matthews. Standing right in front of her, looking as surprised as Nat feels, and more nervous than Nat has ever seen her, holding Nat’s leather jacket close to her chest, and—Nat’s heart kind of, maybe, skips a beat.
"Hi." Lottie blinks. "Um. Jackie told me you’d be here."
Jackie. That fucking traitor.
"She said if I wanted to see you I should come over so. Here I am." She clears her throat, and says, "I’m Lottie.” Even though Nat already knows that, and then she just hurries forward to stick her hand out to Nat. For a formal handshake. It’s just so awkward and needlessly polite that Nat lets out a surprised laugh.
“I feel like we’re past this stage,” she says. “Given the amount of times you’ve almost knocked me out.” Still, she shakes Lottie's hand, and properly introduces herself. "I'm Nat."
Lottie chuckles. “I promise I’m not intentionally trying to take you out," she says, then quietens down, biting at her lip through her smile. “At least not in the assassination way."
Nat’s heart stutters. She quickly takes the jacket from Lotte, puts it on, and changes the subject, casually leaning against the wall. "So. How come you're not wearing a costume?"
Lottie hums thoughtfully. "I guess I should tell you something about me that no one else knows." Then she covers her eyes with her hands, peeking through her fingers. She deepens her voice, and says, "I'm Batman."
Nat bursts into laughter.
"You don't believe me?"
Nat feels a smile tug at her lips. "Depends. Are you going to tell me mistletoe is deadly if I eat it?"
"Maybe." Lottie moves closer, suddenly trapping Nat against the wall, hands on either side of her head. It kind of takes Nat's breath away. "But a kiss...can be even deadlier if you mean it."
And that's it. Nat loses it. Right then and there. She loses every ounce of self control left in her body. She grabs Lottie's jacket and yanks her closer.
"That's my line," she whispers against Lottie's lips, and they are so soft pressed against her own.
The kind of kiss Nat would happily die for.