Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Taylors are perfect. Taylors never have a hair out of place. In Wiskayok, the Taylor family is the closest thing to God with their bone-white veneers and impeccable smiles. The Taylors are the type of family to barely lift a finger, to vacation in the Hamptons, to spend the weekends in New York or Italy not, not-

Work a greasy, disgusting minimum wage job.

Jackie huffs out a breath, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. Her hair’s been pulled back into a messy ponytail, and her shoulders ache from her position hunched over the dirty table, trying to wipe away a puddle of wine.

“I’m so sorry again,” the customer says, patting her shoulder as they walk out of the diner.

Jackie’s shoulders burn from the touch. She conceals her flinch as best as possible, plastering on a smile. When the wine is finally soaked up into her rag, she throws it into the dirty dish bucket, her biceps protesting as she lifts it. She returns it to the kitchen, neatly depositing everything into the sink.

“Don’t you have school tomorrow, kid?” her manager, Arthur, asks.

Jackie glances at the clock to see 11:32 pm staring back at her, “Yeah. I can take another table though.”

Arthur’s face, covered with a large beard, contorts into sympathy, “It’s fine. Let me cash you out.”

Jackie swallows her protest. Unladylike, her mother’s voice creeps into her skull, and she wills it away. She puts on her best smile, smile 13, to appear like everything’s fine, as Arthur leads her back to the register. He counts out her tips and then hands the pile of cash over.

“Sorry it was a little slow tonight,” Arthur tells her.

Jackie shrugs, “It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. She’s spent 14 hours on her feet, and all she has to show is a few hundred. The weekend was slow, too slow, and she has rent coming up and her groceries are almost gone, and-

Jackie inhales a small breath through her nose, refusing to let her smile falter. She takes her leave, glancing up at the night sky before rushing over to the nearest bus stop. Honestly, It took her two months to get used to the bus schedule. At least she can hop on the next one to Wiskayok instead of trying to bum a ride.

At least some things go her way, and minutes later the final bus of the night pulls up. She swipes her PATH card and then finds an empty seat, resting the side of her head against the cool window. She closes her eyes, trying to find some rest, even though she won’t sleep on the bus. There were too many unfamiliar factors and possible dangers for her to sleep here.

45 minutes later, the bus rumbles to a stop a few blocks from her house. She gets up, the last person on the bus, and nods to the driver before she heads out. She pulls her thick jacket closer to her body, shoving her hands into her pockets as she starts the cold walk.

January in New Jersey was as miserable as it could be. Her breath comes out in small clouds as she walks, keeping her head low, and her posture slumped. She’s tired, down to her bones, and her body aches whenever she moves. Still, the pain is familiar, she grew up with it after all.

Bright headlights come up from behind her as a car slows. She keeps her head down, quickening her pace and refusing to look at the car beside her.

“Taylor?” a familiar voice calls out.

Jackie stops then and turns, looking past the annoyed face of Kevyn Tan to see Natalie Scatorccio looking at her, body angled forward to see her. She gives a small wave, plastering on a smile.

“What are you doing out so late, Taylor?” Nat asks.

Jackie shrugs, “Wanted some air.”

“It’s fuckin’ freezing out,” Nat’s eyebrows furrow together, “you want a ride?”

Jackie’s miles away from her old home, the place nothing more than a mausoleum to her old life. She shakes her head, her shitty apartment’s only a few minutes away. Besides, Nat doesn’t care about her, she’s only asking out of some sense of pity.

“It’s fine,” Jackie tells her, “see you tomorrow.”

Nat looks like she wants to argue, but Kevyn hits the gas and speeds away without a second thought. Jackie watches them go, then keeps trudging home.

5 hours later, Jackie wakes up and mechanically goes about getting ready. Some things are drilled into her, habits carved into her that she can’t quite shake, her morning routine is one of those. She meticulously does her makeup, styling her hair, and then practicing her smile until it doesn’t hurt.

It’s been a long few months since her birthday. A long few months of dodging Shauna’s calls, working late nights, and trying to get by. Having two holiday breaks back-to-back was enough time for her to get into a new routine, to start getting her feet off the ground. Maybe, life would’ve been easier if she hadn’t fought with Shauna the day before she was disowned. Maybe, her life would be harder. She tries not to think about November and everything that happened in it.

Graduation, at least, was right around the corner. Jackie glances at her worn Rutgers acceptance letter that sits on her bedside table, then tucks it away. Rutgers was the dream, back when she had money, back when she had Shauna and now she has nothing.

(Tragic. Insecure. Boring.)

The words ring in her head. She shoves her earbuds in, trying to drown it all out. As soon as Jackie’s out of her apartment, she locks her door and checks thrice to make sure it is locked. She begins the cold walk to school. Her nose burns already, and her fingers go numb, but she keeps her head down and keeps walking.

Shauna’s not around to drive her anymore. Jackie doesn’t have the heart to ask, because then she’d have to explain why she doesn’t stay with her parents anymore, why she might not be going to Rutgers, why her perfect, little life imploded overnight. It’s better if no one else knows.

Her car’s in the shop so for now she walks. It gives her a chance to move, sitting still has never come naturally to her. There’s too much energy in her body, too much anxiety to burn off. It’s better if she keeps moving.

Jackie tries to keep her mind from wandering as she walks. She focuses instead on the pressure of her feet hitting the pavement. Simpler things. Tries not to think about the impending future, or having to make more decisions, or having to cut out breakfast or dinner because she can’t afford it anymore. 

Starving’s in her blood. She tries not to think about the hunger, because then she feels it, those cold, tangs of her stomach clenching around nothing. Remembers the color-coded meal plan on her mother’s fridge, and bile rises in her throat. Jackie swallows, scuffing her toe against the ground as she finally sees Wiskayok.

At this time of year, January, no one is loitering outside. It gives her a moment to compose herself before she enters, the warm air hitting her immediately. She walks to her locker, keeping her gaze straight as she finds her locker. Shauna’s not at hers, thankfully, and she tucks away her jacket.

“Hey, Jackie,” a voice chirps as soon as she shuts her locker.

Jackie looks over to see Lottie grinning at her, alone for once. Usually, Lottie is flocked by another Yellowjacket, it’s rare to see her just by herself. 

“Hey,” Jackie responds, plastering on smile 11, friendly and unassuming.

“Are you coming to my party this week?” Lottie asks, tilting her head.

Jackie’s first instinct is to say no. She needs more money to comfortably pay her rent this month, and the only days she can work long shifts are on the weekends. But - Lottie stares at her with those patient, doe eyes that remind Jackie so much of their childhood.

For a moment, Jackie is transported back to when they were young, two kids bound by overbearing parents and expectations. She remembers hiding behind Lottie at Mr. Matthews’ parties, remembers wandering the mansion to play hide-and-seek, remembers soft hands, soft eyes, and the first-ever nickname she got Jack.

Lottie hasn’t called her that in years. The nostalgia hits her in the sternum and threatens to knock her down. Jackie averts her eyes, ignoring her mother’s voice in her head that chastises her and tries not to think about the loss.

“Sure,” she finally says, albeit a little weakly.

Lottie brightens, “Great! We haven’t hung out in a while.”

Jackie nods, words failing her, as Lottie walks away. She stares after the taller girl for a second, before turning around and going to her first class.

School is monotonous enough, she hasn’t seen the other Yellowjackets in a while because of Christmas Break, so she listens as they recap their vacations. When they turn to her, Jackie lies about a trip to Florida and weaves an elaborate story about laying on the beach and trying to tan. They buy it, thankfully, and start to talk about other matters while she picks at her lunch. 

She swallows as much food as she can, because lunch is free, but her stomach has shrunk so much over the years that she can barely eat half of it before she’s full. Jackie throws her lunch away and ignores Shauna’s sad eyes as much as she can. They still haven’t talked, not since - tragic, boring, insecure - and Jackie doesn’t have the heart in her to hear her ex-best friend out. 

When school finally ends, Jackie doesn’t join the herd of students who rush out to their cars. Instead, she navigates around them, making her way out to the soccer fields. It’s freezing out, and they don’t have practice because of the weather, but Jackie uses her key to open the shed and get out a soccer ball.

The drills are simple. They make sense. They aren’t social cues that pass over her head, inside jokes that she never understands, or weird little looks that she pretends not to notice. Soccer is simple, the burning sensation in her muscles is familiar.

If she has too much energy, then all Jackie can do is think. She’s tired of thinking. Tired of rehashing old fights and trying to re-examine her old life like a home movie. Tired of never being enough.

She’s good at soccer. Her body moves mechanically, as she dribbles the ball, then she shoots it into the goal. Jackie closes her eyes and imagines the roar of a crowd, of the exhilaration of her team lifting her on her shoulders, of being the person to save the day, instead of having to rely on someone else.

She lays down on the turf, letting it pillow her. Her lungs ache a little in her chest, and the rest of her body protests, but it feels good. Her mind is a little quieter. She stares up at the cloudy sky, trying to picture the stars, but can’t quite get their likeness right.

Jackie still has the long walk home. Still has a cold apartment to get back to. But for now, she breathes and tries not to think.

Across the field, Tai and Van walk out of school, laughing amongst themselves. Tai stops suddenly, grabbing Van’s arm and pointing over to the soccer field. Van squints as a frown appears on their face. Tai mimics their expression.

“Is that…Jackie?” Tai says.

Van quietly nods, “Should we…?”

The two exchange a look. Van makes a move to go closer, but Tai stops them with a shake of her head. Another silent conversation, Van’s eyes narrowing as Tai frowns at them. A moment later, they keep walking, as if Jackie was never there at all.

Jackie stands outside the booming party, pulling at the bottom of her miniskirt. Most of her clothes were gone, left behind when she was shoved out of her house, and most of her wardrobe now was second-hand stuff. 

Jackie’s only wearing a basic low-cut long-sleeve and a miniskirt. It’s not exactly high fashion, but it’s the best she has. She’s sure the Matthews mansion will feel like a furnace anyway and at least her car’s back and the heater works.

She heads inside, instantly overwhelmed by the loudness. Throngs of bodies greet her, and she shoves past them, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. The inside is too warm, too comforting, too packed with people for her to relax. Jackie searches the room for any of the Yellowjackets, but can’t find them so she just pushes her way toward the backyard.

As soon as the cold air hits her, it’s like she’s back to reality. She instantly shivers, but it’s easier to breathe out there. She scans the backyard and doesn’t see anyone but the baseball boys all near the edge of the woods. At least Jeff doesn’t seem to be with them.

“Where’s your entourage?” a voice gruffs from behind her.

Jackie glances over her shoulder, as Nat steps into place beside her. She has a cigarette between her teeth, but she blows the smoke away from them. Jackie shrugs, trying to seem aloof and like the topic doesn’t sting.

“Dunno, where’s yours?” Jackie points out, gesturing to the distinct lack of Kevyn Tan.

Nat snorts and takes another hit, “Kev’s probably hooking up with some girl in the woods. I saw Shauna and Jeff arrive an hour ago.”

Jackie doesn’t take the bait, “Where are the other girls?”

“JV got wasted and Tai sent them home,” a small smirk appears on Nat’s face, “Laura Lee had a grade-A freakout about something, and Lottie was comforting them. Think Tai and Van dipped already.”

“Boring,” Jackie says.

Nat raises an eyebrow, “You’re hiding out on the porch, I don’t know if you’re one to talk.”

“So are you,” Jackie fires back, her cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

“I, at least have the excuse of a smoke break,” Nat grins, “what about you, Taylor?”

Taylor. Not Jackie or Jack or some nickname. As impersonal of a name as it can be. Jackie bites her lip at the mention of her last name, turning away. She knows Nat didn’t mean it as a jab, but still, the fracture in their friendship makes her sick to her stomach.

Jackie remembers when Nat’s dad died, and sneaking food into her backpack. Remembers luring her to practice with the promise of cigarettes or liquor, and then adding packed sandwiches to sweeten the deal. Remembers lying for her to Coach, whenever Nat would skip, and covering for her when she was hungover.

Did you know it was me? Jackie wants to ask but swallows the words. It’s only a sense of curiosity that drives her, not a need for validation. She just thought it was the right thing to do because she couldn’t imagine losing a parent that young. And then, well, she didn’t have to imagine anymore.

Are we still friends? Were we ever? Jackie wants to say. She thinks they were, maybe at one point. Remembers pats on the shoulder and dance parties in the locker room. Remembers sleepovers and taking care of each other when they got too drunk. But, maybe the intimacy of those actions was all in her head too. 

Jackie can’t help but think of freshman year, and watching Nat take a bad hit from another team’s defender. Can’t help but sit in that fear she felt, watching Nat be carted off the field, holding her leg.

Maybe they were never friends. Jackie thought she and Shauna were inseparable, and look what happened there. Maybe all of her relationships were paper-thin, merely wallpaper slapped on top of a corroding wall to hide the cracks in them.

Suddenly, Jackie doesn’t feel like talking anymore and doesn’t feel like pretending. She wants to crawl into her twin bed and pull the covers over her head instead.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jackie says quietly, “see you at school, Nat.”

She turns to leave before a gentle hand grabs her forearm. She flinches, the instinct deep in her, and then tries to school her expression when Nat’s eyebrows raise. 

“Uh, I hate to be a dick but,” Nat worries her bottom lip between her teeth, “anyway I can bum a ride?”

Jackie wants to argue, wants to brush the other girl off, but she’s always been a bleeding heart and she loves the girls more than anything. She doesn’t know what she’d do if she wasn’t a Yellowjacket.

“Yeah,” Jackie tells her, “c’mon.”

Nat gives a thankful look, ashing her cigarette and then they re-enter the storm. Jackie’s aggressive with her shoving, ignoring the offended looks she gets, as they push their way to the front and toward the street. Nat stays a step behind her, quiet and contemplative, as Jackie unlocks her car and then hops inside.

It’s a beat-up, old sedan with peeling leather seats and a cracked rearview mirror. Hardly something that a normal Taylor would owe. Jackie ignores Nat’s curious eyes as she starts the car, listening to the engine start before cranking the heat up.

“I always thought you’d have, like, a coupe,” Nat comments.

“Too expensive,” Jackie murmurs, images of the car she was supposed to receive at 18 stuck in her head.

She’d been dreaming of her 18th birthday gift for years, it was the only thing she truly ever wanted. Her dad, Allen, and she had toiled over the color and the make. It was their only way to bond. Jackie thought her life was all figured out, she’d get her dream car and her license.

Instead, on her birthday she got shoved out into the cold with all of her documents and nothing more than pajamas and the sneakers on her feet.

Doesn’t mention that fact to Nat, Jackie doesn’t think she’d care. 

“You’re Jackie fuckin’ Taylor,” Nat pushes, incredulous, “nothing is too expensive. Your parents rented out like an entire house in the Hamptons for your 16th. You went to Florida over break.”

“No, I didn’t,” her heart throbs in her chest, a dull ache, “I was lying. I didn’t do anything for Christmas.”

Nat goes silent. The radio crackles on as Jackie drives, taking careful turns as she drives to Nat’s trailer.

“You were lying?” Nat finally says.

Jackie just nods. Doesn’t look over at her, afraid to see her expression. 

“Why? Why lie about that?” Nat presses.

Jackie stops at a red light, and finally gives in, looking over. Nat doesn’t seem offended, more surprised. Dark blue eyes scan her face and Jackie is tempted, so, so tempted to spill her deepest secret.

“I-” Jackie cuts herself off.

And then, she remembers. Taylor. They’re not friends. Maybe they never were.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jackie says dully, taking the final turn into the trailer park and rolling to a stop outside of Nat’s place.

“You and Shauna did something though, yeah? I mean, me and Van aren’t big fans of the holiday but we did a shitty little thing,” Nat rambles, seemingly desperate to hear that Jackie celebrated in some way.

Jackie’s eyebrows press together, “Shauna’s Jewish. Besides, we aren’t friends anymore.”

Nat laughs at that, “Okay, maybe you do have jokes, Taylor.”

“Don’t call me that,” Jackie’s voice comes out harsher than she intended and she sees Nat grimace, “sorry. But we aren’t.”

“Is this like the whole, you and Jeff broke up and this time it’s for good?” Nat says.

Jackie tightens her grip on the steering wheel, torn between explaining herself and just kicking Nat out of the car, “No. Shauna was sleeping with Jeff. We’re not friends, and we broke up.”

Nat just blinks at her, “What?”

“Get out of my car, Nat,” Jackie sighs.

“Wait! Are you being for real? That’s like, really fucked up, Jackie,” Nat’s eyes are wide as if she can’t comprehend what Jackie’s saying.

“Yeah, I know. It happened to me,” Jackie hits the unlock button and listens to the satisfying click of the doors, “get out of my car.”

Nat opens her mouth, about to argue before she thinks better of it. She just nods, getting out of the car, and then she leans down to stick her head back in.

“If…” Nat struggles for the words, “never mind. See you tomorrow?”

Jackie just nods. Nat closes the door and Jackie waits until Nat’s safely back into her trailer before she pulls out of the park, back to her empty apartment.

Chapter Text

Jackie’s in the midst of doing her February budget breakdown when someone taps her on the shoulder. It’s study hall, and though in the past she’d skip, she’d rather be at school than her lonely apartment. Jackie turns, raising an eyebrow as she sees Lottie looking down at her.

“What’s up?” She closes her notebook.

Lottie takes the free seat next to her, “I didn’t see you at my party.”

“Well, I went,” Jackie turns away from her dark eyes, “you can ask Nat.”

“Nat? You talked to Nat?” Lottie says shock imbued in her tone.

Jackie scrunches her shoulders a little, “Yeah? Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I didn’t even know Nat came,” Lottie tells her.

Jackie shrugs, “I drove her home. Dunno, heard Laura Lee got fucked up.”

“She had a little too much,” Lottie concedes, “but they were fine by the end of the night.”

Jackie nods, fiddling with her pen. She’s not exactly sure why Lottie’s trying to talk to her, or more importantly, what Lottie wants to gain out of this conversation. Now, that’s something her parents taught her young. Everything was a transaction, everything was a power struggle. People don’t just talk to you for the sake of talking, they always want something, whether it’s a favor or some information.

“Do you wanna come over this weekend?” Lottie says, after a moment.

And now, Jackie can’t help but glance over at her. They haven’t hung out in years, and never of their own volition. Why? Why now? Jackie wants to ask, where were you when I needed you?

Jackie’s heard the rumors of course, about Lottie’s house. Whenever someone needed a safe haven, all of the girls would flock there. Nat basically lived there, as did Van and Tai, on occasion. She and Shauna had never been part of that group, the invite had always skipped them.

“Sorry, I’m busy,” Jackie says quietly.

It’s the truth, for once. She has to work this weekend, especially since the restaurant has been so slow with the weather. 

“Going out of town?” Lottie asks.

Jackie shakes her head but doesn’t say anything more. If she speaks, it’ll just be a lie, and she’s tired of lying. It’s wearing her down, and it’s only been a few months. She should be used to lying at this point in her life, but it still rubs her the wrong way.

There’s something intrinsic in her, that hates skirting around the truth and weaving a web of half-truths and lies. She’s been lying her entire life, about random bruises and blaming them on soccer, the reason her face is so puffy (I didn’t sleep well), or why there’s random blood on her soccer kit (I took a bad hit). The list of lies just grows, and it’s becoming hard to keep track of what she tells everyone.

She has her story semi-straight in case anyone presses too hard. Her parents bought her an apartment, they wanted to teach her independence. It doesn’t explain the hefty budgeting, the skipping meals, or the fact that people can see her ribs now, but those things she can hide. She’s never changed in the locker room.

Prude. The girls used to whisper when Jackie would slip into a stall instead of taking off her soccer kit like everyone else. It was her only solution, otherwise, the others would see the scars and the bruises and then they’d ask questions. She can’t have anyone asking questions, not now, not when she was so close to getting out of Wiskayok.

“Are you sure? My parents just installed a heater in the pool,” Lottie offers, voice sweet.

Jackie shakes her head, “Sorry.”

She doesn’t offer anything else. 

“If you change your mind, let me know, I’m having all the girls over for a sleepover,” Lottie lingers for another moment, then goes back to her original seat. 

Jackie glances back at her, but then locks her gaze on her notebook, beginning to double-check numbers for the next month.

It might not be the most exciting to admit, but Jackie thrives on routine. With all of the chaos in her personal life, routine keeps her sane. This is exactly why she goes back to the soccer field after school, getting out a soccer ball and shucking off her jacket. The cold wind hits her, making goosebumps rise, but it’s calming. This means she can still feel something, means there’s a part of her that’s still alive.

She has too much scar tissue, especially for her age, mostly on her back and her upper shoulders. It's a permanent reminder of her imperfections, another reminder that she doesn't fit into her parents' idea of a perfect daughter. For all she tries, she'll never fit in with the others. She's studied how to be a teenage girl, read books about being "normal" and watched shows and movies about it, trying to mold herself into the all-American dream. She taught herself how to be pretty, how to pose and how to smile and how to laugh properly. She pored over magazines and taught herself how to do her makeup, how to apply the right amount of lip gloss so her lips glistened but weren't too much.

Hell, she taught half the Yellowjackets how to do their makeup, when they were gangly and freshly fourteen. She remembers applying lip gloss to Shauna's lips, and blinks away the image. She grew up with these girls, and still, she was never enough to close the distance between them all. Jackie's not stupid, for all her pep talks and her team bonding activities, they're a motley crew. Though she may be on top of the metaphorical hierarchy, she's at the bottom of the real one.

Jackie begins to mindlessly shuffle through drills, kicking the ball and then racing after it, like she’s passing it to herself. She’s not the fastest or the smartest player, soccer doesn’t come to her naturally, but she loves it still. She’s not sure she’s ever been the best at anything she’s loved.

Taylors are perfect, her mother scolds. Jackie tries to tune her out, speeding up until her lungs rattle in her chest. Her feet slam down against the turf, and she’s overcome by the urge to lie down and never get up again.

“Captain!” a voice cuts through the quiet afternoon.

Jackie stops the ball with the side of her foot, looking over to see Tai and Van jogging over to her. They’re both dressed in layers, but more casually than when they were in school.

“You got room for two more?” Tai raises an eyebrow.

Jackie debates it internally. If she accepts, she’ll burn more calories at least and expend more energy. If she declines, she can at least keep her peace.

Jackie gives a short nod, passing the ball over to Van. Van easily stops it, dribbling it around and kicking it toward Tai. Tai takes it, a sharp smile appearing on her lips before she’s suddenly racing toward the nearest goal. Van sputters and Jackie can’t help but let out a laugh, surprising herself, as they race after her.

Jackie reaches Tai first, sticking out her foot to try and get the ball from her. Tai swiftly dodges, kicking the ball between Jackie’s legs and then keeps running. Van mans the goal, and Jackie trusts them as she duels with Tai. 

They’re evenly matched, for every inch Jackie gains, Tai puts her on the back foot. One step forward, two steps back. Jackie keeps her eyes locked on Tai’s face, and she watches as Tai’s eyes flick to the left, barely there, and then Jackie moves. She slides to the left, just as Tai winds back, prepared to kick, and Jackie steals the ball out from under her.

Jackie kicks it out of the way, just as Tai’s foot comes up, slamming into her calf and then they tumble to the ground together. With a thud, Jackie hits the turf and then rolls out of the way of Tai’s sharp elbows. The wind gets knocked out of her for a second, and she gasps, before there’s a hand shoved in front of her face.

“Dirty move,” Tai’s grin is sharp, “good shit, Jackie.”

Jackie takes the hand, allowing Tai to pull her back up. The ball’s been forgotten, and Van rushes over to them, clapping a hand on each of their shoulders.

“You guys good?” They ask.

Jackie and Tai nod simultaneously. Tai offers another hand, “Call it a draw?”

“Next time, I’ll kick your ass,” Jackie shakes her hand.

Tai laughs, throwing her head back, all her teeth on show. Jackie can’t help but watch her as she lets go of Tai’s hand, it’s been a long time since she’s seen Tai so happy about soccer. Van seems to think the same thing, though there’s more affection in their eyes. 

“Are you comin’ to Lottie’s on Saturday?” Van asks, shoving some of their hair out of their face.

Hesitantly, Jackie shakes her head, “Don’t think so.”

Van dramatically pretends to collapse, “Come on, Cap, it’ll be fun! We haven’t hung out in ages.”

The words don’t persuade her to come, instead they just make her more confused. Jackie loves the other girls, but she wouldn’t consider herself close with Van or Tai, Tai especially. They’ve always had an on-again-off-again friendship. Either Tai would get pissed at Jackie’s attitude or Jackie would get annoyed at Tai’s overkill seriousness or something or the other. 

Van, Tai, Lottie, and Nat formed their own clique, while Jackie and Shauna had theirs. The two groups got along, but they never tried to hang out with the others, save for at a party. At parties, honestly, the Yellowjackets clung to each other out of necessity more than desire. Jackie can’t remember the last time Van asked her to go to something, if anyone from the other group reached out, it was always Lottie.

Her two teammates look at her expectantly. Jackie has to look away from the hopeful glint in their eyes, “I’ll…see. But probably not.”

It’s different from her previous answer to Lottie, but Jackie feels bad about disappointing them. 

“We’ll text ya,” Tai promises.

It makes the hair on the back of her neck raise in suspicion, but Jackie just nods. Tai and Van leave with waves and Jackie watches them go.

“I’ll fuck you up,” Jackie can’t help but squeal, as Arthur wraps an arm around her and manhandles her into the kitchen. Her skin burns, a sense of wrongwrongwrong hitting her and only making her panic more. She’s slapping his shoulders but it does shit all when he’s so burly and he just sighs as he stands in front of the swinging double doors.

“What did I say?” Arthur crosses his arms like a disappointed parent.

And well, fuck, it’s been a while since she’s had a look like that aimed at her. Jackie deflates, mirroring his posture, and trying to hide the obvious coffee stain on her chest.

“He threw fuckin’ coffee at me!” Jackie whines, “What? You gonna tell me the customer’s always right?”

Arthur shakes his head, blowing a breath out through his nose, “No. I was going to say, we save the meltdowns for the freezer. You know this.”

Jackie scowls, the nervous energy bleeding back into her, the adrenaline gone. Her foot starts tapping against the floor as she speaks, “He tried to grab my skirt. I just reacted.”

Arthur’s expression knits into one of sympathy, “Yeah, fuck that guy. I’ll get Tom to throw him out.”

Jackie presses up on her toes, looking over Arthur’s shoulder through the window, “He’s already gone. He smashed his plate too.”

“Crackhead,” Arthur sighs, “we get too many of ‘em here. Sorry you had to deal with that.”

“‘S fine,” Jackie still feels a little small, “I’m a big girl.”

“You’re a kid,” Arthur raises his eyebrows, “and like 50 pounds wet.”

Jackie pouts up at him and he huffs out a laugh. He moves to pat her on the shoulder, then retracts his hand at the last second and shoves it into his pocket.

“Go home, Jackie,” Arthur tells her, “we’re gonna need to shut down to clean anyways.”

“I need to close out my other table,” Jackie protests.

“I’ll do it, money will be waiting for you when you come back tomorrow,” Arthur promises, “we got extra shirts in the back if you need.”

Glumly, Jackie acquiesces. It’s been slow for the past few hours anyways, and she made enough money working the lunch rush that she can’t complain. It’ll give her a little safety net at the least. She changes shirts, throwing her shirt into the hamper with the aprons, and then takes her stack of cash and leaves.

The cold air hits her and she shoves the cash into her pocket. She never takes her car out of Wiskayok, it was such a piece of shit that it’s a miracle it gets her around town. At least public transport was mostly reliable.

Jackie checks her phone, seeing it’s only 8pm. She could have a nice date with her bed and some much needed sleep or…

Her phone dings. The Yellowjackets group chat buzzing with texts. Jackie swallows, clutching onto her phone. 

Jackie always had a weak resolve when it came to her girls.

After the fastest shower known to mankind, Jackie rushes across town to Lottie’s house. All of the lights are on, and by the other cars in the driveway, it seems like she is the last one to arrive. At least Shauna’s car isn't there.

Jackie tugs her jacket closer to her chest as she approaches the porch. She has her backpack stuffed with clothes on her back, and in more comfortable clothes, jeans and a white t-shirt, she feels a little more herself.

Lemme in Jackie texts Lottie as she looks up at the massive front door. Not even a minute later, the front door opens, a smiley Laura Lee there to greet her.

“Hey, Jackie,” Laura Lee chirps, “everyone’s out by the pool.”

“It’s January,” Jackie says but follows her inside and toward the backyard.

“So? The heaters are pretty nice honestly,” Laura Lee shrugs, and only then does Jackie realize she’s in her bathing suit with a t-shirt thrown over it. The t-shirt’s too big on her, and Jackie bites back a grin as she realizes who it belongs to. Still, she keeps her mouth shut.

Van and Tai are in the pool while Lottie lounges on a pool chair, sprawled out as if the sun was shining down on her. Nat’s in a chair, her knees pulled to her chest as she looks at something on her phone. 

“Cap! You made it,” Van shouts, swimming over to the edge, “you comin’ in?”

“I think I’ll sit this one out,” Jackie tells them.

Van pouts but doesn’t say anything more as Jackie walks past them, plopping her stuff down in an empty chair. She slips off her shoes and her jacket and then sits by the edge of the water, putting her feet in. And hey, Laura Lee wasn’t lying, the water really was a nice temperature.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jackie watches as Laura Lee joins Lottie on the recliner, and Lottie wraps a lazy arm around her. She can’t help her smile then, though she tilts her body away to give them a little more privacy.

Nat plops down beside her, a shirt thrown over her bathing suit. She mimics Jackie and puts her feet in, idly gently swinging her feet back and forth.

“Wasn’t thinking I’d see you here, Jackie,” Nat comments, her gaze locked on Van and Tai.

Jackie shrugs, “Had nothing better to do.”

Nat snorts, “Come on, no one else was blowing up your phone?”

“They did,” Jackie jokes, “I just ignored them for you.”

“Honored,” Nat hums, “truly honored.”

At least banter’s familiar to them, though some of the bite that Nat used to hold for her seems to be gone. Jackie tries not to look too much into it as she looks up at the night sky above them.

“Why aren’t you getting in?” Nat asks.

“Don’t wanna,” Jackie says simply, “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

I don’t have one anymore, Jackie doesn’t say. Nat doesn’t push, but she mimics Jackie again, looking up at the starry sky.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Nat says.

Jackie’s eyes search the sky, “Looking for my favorite constellation.”

“Which one?”

“Orion.”

“You liked your Greek myths, huh?”

“Who doesn’t love a good tragedy?”

Nat gives her a look, "I always took you for a happy ending typa girl."

Jackie hums, "I like those too. But tragedies are just...so interesting. You know how it's going to end, but you read on."

"Why?"

"Dunno. Maybe...you're holding onto hope that things will change. That it doesn't have to end that way. Or, you're clinging to the good moments you get. Like yeah, so-and-so dies, but they were happy once. And you keep reading just to see them happy, even if...y'know."

Nat goes quiet. Jackie looks at her, to see her deep in thought.

Nat clears her throat, “I always liked Ursa Major. Was the easiest one for me to spot.”

Jackie searches the sky for it. She finds it, staring up at it, and she can feel Nat’s eyes on her. She turns her head to see Nat looking at her, but she doesn’t look away. Nat’s hair is a little damp, pulled back into a ponytail, and she looks so much younger without her usual makeup on. Nat raises an eyebrow when Jackie keeps staring.

“See something you like?” Nat teases.

“You wish, Scat,” Jackie turns away, glad that flush can be hidden in the dark, “you find Orion yet?”

“No, I don’t know what it looks like,” she admits.

“Hold your hand out,” Jackie tells her.

Nat looks suspicious but acquiesces, holding her hand out with her pointer extended. Jackie scoots closer, wrapping a gentle hand around Nat’s wrist and looking down her pointer like one would look down the barrel of a gun. She moves her hand around, then stops, pointing to Orion off in the distance.

“See those three bright ones?” Jackie murmurs, “Like they’re in a line? That’s his belt.”

Jackie gently moves her hand up, gesturing to two bright stars left and right of it, “And his shoulders are there.”

“Woah,” Nat breathes.

Jackie looks back at her, to see Nat gazing up at the sky in awe. She can’t help her smile, at the childlike wonder on Nat’s face. The normally harsh lines on her face are so relaxed, it makes Jackie wish for simpler days. She wishes she could’ve shown Nat all the constellations, back when they were kids. Maybe the stars could've been an escape for Nat, like they were for Jackie.

At her old house, she used to have a telescope, it was her favorite birthday gift, her dad got it for her when she was 8. She spent an entire summer out there every night, peering out of it and trying to draw all the constellations she could find. Space was always neat to her, the idea of life beyond earth, the idea of a universe more massive than anything she could wrap her mind around.

“Hey, Jackie,” Nat starts, looking back at her.

“Yeah?”

Before Nat can say anything more, Nat’s eyes go wide as she’s suddenly pulled into the pool. Nat reaches out for the closest thing, which in this case happens to be Jackie’s arm, and since Jackie’s holding onto her still, Jackie tumbles into the pool after her.

The warm water hits her instantly, and Jackie lets go of Nat as she kicks herself to the surface of the pool. She’s drenched to the bone, and the cool air sends shivers down her spine. With all of her clothes on her, it weighs her down, causing her to kick more as she grabs the ledge of the pool.

“What the fuck!” Nat snarls before Jackie can even say anything.

Jackie turns to see the culprit, a guilty looking Van. Despite it all, Jackie’s not even mad, she’s just glad her phone was in her bag. 

“Sorry!” Van tells Jackie, then turns to Nat, “Alright, tough guy, let me have it.”

Van comically raises their two fists, like an old school cartoon, and Nat strips off her shirt, throwing it out of the pool before lunging forward. They go tumbling beneath the water, and Tai stays on the shallow end, watching them like a disappointed parent.

Jackie rolls her eyes at their antics, and lifts herself out of the pool. A puddle forms underneath her feet immediately, and she shakes her head like a dog before brushing it out of her face. A towel is thrown around her shoulders, and Laura Lee’s sheepish expression is all she gets in response.

“Guess you did go for a swim after all,” they mumble.

A laugh makes its way out of her throat, unbridled, and Jackie just nods. 

“You can take the bedroom on the first floor,” Laura Lee tells her.

Jackie nods, grabbing her backpack and shuffling back inside. She winces as she drags water through the tile kitchen and onto the carpet floor, but she tries to be as quick as she can. She spots the bedroom, but heads to the bathroom in the hall. 

Flicking the light on, Jackie dumps her backpack onto the counter. 

“Jesus,” Jackie looks at herself in the mirror, her makeup running. The first thing she does is grab a towel and she grimaces as she wipes off her makeup, but she feels marginally better. Her bright blue bra is on full-show, and now half her team got to see her chest, so that’s even better.

Jackie huffs out a sigh as she starts the shower. She takes her jeans off first, sucking air through her teeth as the fabric clings to her skin. She hangs them up on an empty towel rack, and is halfway through pulling her shirt off when the door opens behind her.

“Jackie, you-” Lottie starts and then gasps.

Jackie immediately lowers her shirt, whirling around. Lottie’s eyes get all wide, concern etched into her face. Jackie looks down at her arms and legs, trying to spot what she sees.

“What?” Jackie shouts over the shower.

“Your…” Lottie licks her lips, “your back.”

The harsh pitter-patter of the shower is suddenly all Jackie can hear. Fear creeps into her, spreading from her chest through her veins. Unconsciously, she takes a step back.

“What did you see?” Jackie croaks out.

“The scars,” is all Lottie responds with.

Oh fuck, is all Jackie can think. And before she knows it, her eyes roll back into her head as her legs crumple beneath her and she unceremoniously passes out.

Chapter Text

There are warm, soft hands touching her face, which is the first thing Jackie realizes. Her eyes are still squeezed shut, and the surface beneath her back is comforting, instead of the tile floor she was expecting to wake up on.

It takes her a second to place herself in Lottie’s mansion, and then her eyelids spring open. The first thing she sees is Lottie’s dark eyes, and her scrunched forehead, before Lottie pulls back. Jackie’s torn between chasing the gentle touch and shrinking away from it.

It’s been so long since someone touched her gently, she’s almost forgotten what it felt like. Her skin tingles and her chest burns and she just wants Lottie to cup her face again to see if it’ll hurt the second time around. Jackie’s always been like that, even when she was young and warned that the stove was hot, she’d still try and touch a burner.

“Hey, Jack,” Lottie murmurs.

The nickname causes tears to materialize in her eyes, and Jackie bites down on her lip, tilting her face away from Lottie’s doe eyes. Too much affection and nostalgia war in her chest and she tries to swallow the urge to burst into tears.

You’ve always been too much, a hiss in her ears.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lottie scoots closer, eyes widening, her hands outstretched. 

Instinctively, Jackie flinches away. Lottie winces and Jackie wants to reach out, wants to apologize and fall at her feet because she didn’t mean it but-

They’ll never know how tragic and boring and insecure you really are.

The words die in her throat. Her bottom lip trembles and then Lottie is wearing that sympathetic little frown, dark eyes examining Jackie as if she’s about to shatter like glass at any moment.

“What happened?” Jackie says instead, forcing her voice not to shake.

Lottie glances at the door and then back to Jackie, “You passed out. I think you hit your head when you fell. Does anything hurt?”

Jackie shakes her head and then looks down at herself. Her shirt’s been changed into a bigger plain t-shirt, one that’s definitely not hers, and she has on a pair of baggie shorts. She looks back up at Lottie.

“We got you some new clothes,” Lottie tells her, and Jackie knows immediately that it was her and Laura Lee, “the others don’t know anything happened. It’s only been like ten minutes, they’re still outside.”

Jackie nods, pushing herself up into a sitting position, “Thanks.”

“Jack, we should,” Lottie cuts herself off, taking a little breath, “can…can we talk about what I saw? Your back, I-”

Jackie looks over at her, to see Lottie staring down at her hands. Her shoulders are shaking, Jackie realizes, her own eyes widening at the sight. Hesitantly, she reaches forward, curling a hand around one of Lottie’s.

“It’s nothin’,” Jackie lies.

Lottie looks up at her, their faces close, “It’s not nothing, Jack. That’s not a soccer injury, that was bad.”

Jackie goes quiet, debating. They used to be close, years ago, before high school. Back when they were kids, hiding behind their mother’s skirts at every social event and teetering around in heels too tall for their ages. They grew up together.

Jackie meets Lottie’s eyes and sees nothing but concern there. And god, she’s tired. She’s tired of stressing out about everything and lying and having to hide everything about her life and being so fucking alone that she wants to crawl out of her skin.

Lottie squeezes her fingers. Jackie looks away from her pleading gaze.

“When I was fifteen, I got into a car accident,” Jackie keeps her voice quiet, images of that night flashing through her mind, “my mom and I got into a fight. It was…bad. I wrapped my car around a streetlight.”

Lottie’s grip on her hand gets tighter. Jackie can’t look at her.

(“You are so fucking ungrateful,” her mother hissed, grabbing onto her arm.

Jackie’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, “I don’t know what I’m doing! I’m trying, Mom.”

“We do everything for you,” Janet’s fingernails were digging into her skin, “your father works all day and all night for us to be able to give you the life you want.”

“It was one B, I’ll do better on the next test,” Jackie looked over, trying to rip her mom’s hand off her arm.

That split second look was all it took. The roads were too icy, the snow was too harsh. One second Jackie looked away from the road, and when she looked back, blinding headlights were all she saw. She swerved the car, the wheels screeching as the car jumped over the curb. Scerk! Metal screamed as the car spun before slamming into a metal pole, right on the driver’s side door.

Jackie’s head smashed against the steering wheel, the distant sounds of Janet screaming in the back of her mind. All she could focus on was the red running down the left side of her body, and then everything was quiet.)

Jackie closes her eyes, shoving the memory into the box in the back of her mind that’s surrounded by barbed wire and caution tape. When her eyes open, there’s fingers underneath her chin, urging her to look up. Jackie acquiesces.

Lottie’s eyebrows are scrunched, little lines forming by the edge of her brows. Her forehead is wrinkled, and here, under the bright overhead lighting, Jackie can see the faint scar on her forehead from when she fell off her bike when they were five. She can still remember the fear she felt that day when Lottie went head-first toward the curb.

Lottie’s fingers are barely there, barely touching her skin, but it still makes Jackie’s entire body feel warm. Her childhood friend just examines her face, as if she could see any other injuries.

“Metal went through my shoulder,” Jackie finishes, “that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Lottie parrots, dumbfound, “Shit, you never told us. You never told me.”

“I told Shauna,” Jackie says lamely.

Lottie’s eyebrows press together, “Shauna’s not me. Fuck, Jack, we’re friends, I wish you told me. I would’ve, I don’t know, like visited you when you were in the hospital.”

“I was only there for a few days,” Jackie tries to salve the wounds, “then I was out. I was back in school the same week.”

It’s not the right answer, evidently, from the way Lottie’s mouth drops open. Her hand pulls away and she leans back, not out of disgust, but out of shock.

“Jackie, you just told me there was fucking metal that went through your shoulder,” Lottie says slowly, “that should take more than a week in the hospital. You stay a few days in the hospital if you’re, like, dehydrated, not if you’re in a bad car accident.”

“I was fine,” Jackie weakly responds.

It wasn’t fine, blood leaked through her makeshift bandages and stained her favorite shirts for a few days. She always made sure to throw a jacket over them, to avoid people asking questions. She’d spend extra time in the single-stall bathroom to replace her bandages and make sure she wasn’t bleeding through. She passed the days with handfuls of Tylenol and by just gritting her teeth whenever the wound would get aggravated during practice.

Her mom didn’t want to pay for more days at the hospital, especially when the crash was because of Jackie’s negligence. Jackie doesn’t blame her, truly, it was her fault and they both paid the consequences.

Lottie looks like she wants to argue, before she shakes her head. She gets to her feet, looking toward the door again, then back at Jackie.

“You…” Lottie mulls over her words, “we’re friends, right, Jack?”

“Of course,” the answer is instinctual.

Lottie nods, looking satisfied, “If anything like that ever happens, I’m here for you, okay? My door’s always open.”

Oh. Jackie has officially joined the something is deeply wrong at home and no one really knows what club that used to be an exclusive group of 3 (and the occasional Tai). Jackie’s not sure how to feel about it, but she forces a smile as she follows Lottie out the door.

The other Yellowjackets are in the living room, spread out across the floor and couch. Tai is in Van’s arms, completely changed from their swimsuits. Laura Lee shoots them a concerned look as Jackie and Lottie enter. Van and Tai are still in their little bubble, talking quietly to each other, but Nat looks up at the sound of footsteps, looking between Lottie and Jackie suspiciously.

“The pizza is almost here,” Laura Lee tells the room.

Van whoops at that, and Tai rolls her eyes but kisses them on the temple. Nat grins a little, but her eyes are still locked on Jackie as she sits down.

“You guys were gone a while,” Nat comments, keeping her voice quiet.

Jackie shrugs, glancing over at Lottie, “We were just talking.”

“Everything good?” Nat says casually.

Jackie looks over at her, raising an eyebrow. Nat mimics her, and they have a silent stare-down. Do you actually care? Jackie wants to ask, Or do you only care because Lottie might be involved?

“Lottie’s fine,” Jackie answers, a slight frown on her lips.

Nat looks offended, “Dude, what? I was asking about you.”

“Oh,” Jackie says dumbly, “I’m fine.”

Nat looks torn between punching her and saying something, but the doorbell ringing stops her from saying anything. Jackie jumps to her feet, determined to make herself useful, as she opens the door and grabs the pizzas from the delivery guy. When she re-enters the room, the others look at her with stars in their eyes.

Internally, Jackie laughs but she doesn’t say anything as she lays the pizzas out on the table. As soon as they’re down, Van reaches forward and grabs a slice, as does Nat. The others follow, and Jackie sits down with her back to the couch, watching them with amusement.

“You want some, Jackie?” Laura Lee offers.

Her stomach’s feeling…weird, and her throat feels a little tight, but she hasn’t eaten anything for most of the day. Jackie looks at the pizza and can only see dollar signs and can only hear her mother’s voice echoing in her head.

I could’ve sworn these fit the last time you wore them, did you gain weight? Darling, the meal plan is there for a reason. It’s to keep you accountable, right? We wouldn’t want to resort to any extreme measures. Really, throwing up in a bathroom stall is so outdated-

“Jack?” Lottie repeats and Jackie comes back to reality to see Nat waving a half-eaten slice of pizza in front of her face. Jackie recoils, grimacing and Nat merely sticks her tongue out in response.

“How much do I owe you?” Jackie says as she grabs a slice.

It’s like she shot someone, the way Lottie’s eyes widen. Even Nat looks dumbfounded. And shit, has Jackie really not asked before? Did she just take everything as a given, just take Lottie’s kindness and spit on it?

But you just get everything you want, all the time like it’s nothing! 

“You don’t owe me anything,” Lottie plays it off, “it’s all on my dad’s credit card anyways.”

The others laugh, Nat and Lottie’s more forced than Van and Tai’s. Jackie just looks down at her pizza slice, breathing through her nose, as she bites into it. And, it’s good, it really is. It’s warm and the cheese melts in her mouth and she chews the piece a billion times until it disintegrates in her mouth but at least she’s able to swallow it down.

So, she bites it again, and soon enough the entire slice is gone. Jackie wipes the crumbs from her hands, glancing at the box again.

“You want another?” Nat’s voice is quiet again, like she knows something Jackie doesn’t.

Jackie shakes her head, she does, but she doesn’t think she can stomach any more food. Nat examines her a moment, before turning away. 

The rest of the night passes in a blur. Van demands they watch an action movie, so Jackie hides her face every time someone gets killed or a gun goes off, and Nat laughs at her. Lottie and Laura Lee murmur to each other the entire time, but no one complains, even when their voices get louder than the movie. 

It’s…nice. It’s unfamiliar but it makes Jackie feel like there’s a supernova in her chest every time Van makes a joke then looks at her to see her reaction, it makes her atoms want to explode when Lottie calls her Jack, and it even makes her feel like smiling when Tai begins to throw popcorn at her. It’s the first time in a long time that she’s felt like a part of a unit, like she’s not alone.

They fall asleep in the living room, and when Jackie wakes to the sound of her phone ringing, she sees they’re all tangled together in some way. Van and Tai are cuddled up, and Tai’s head is right by Lottie’s shoulder. Lottie has an arm outstretched and another around Laura Lee. Laura Lee’s legs hang off the couch and Nat’s head is leaning against her calf.

And Jackie, well, Jackie wakes up with hair in her mouth and realizes she spent the night asleep on Nat’s shoulder. There’s a relaxed arm around her side, that Jackie slips out of as she rushes to answer her phone.

“Hello?” Jackie says quietly.

“Where are you, kid?” Arthur asks.

Jackie feels her heart stop in her chest, she turns away from the other Yellowjackets as she looks at the time. 11am. She was supposed to be at work an hour ago.

“Fuck,” she breathes, “I’m so sorry my alarm didn’t go off, I’ll be right there.”

“Jackie, chill,” Arthur says, “just take the day off. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“No, no,” Jackie feels her voice getting louder and she takes a deep breath, “sorry. I just really need the money.”

Quiet on the other end of the line. Jackie sees the others starting to stir, and she resists the urge to pace.

“Can you get here before 12?” Arthur finally says.

Jackie does the mental math. If she leaves right now and drives straight to the restaurant, depending on traffic, she should make it on time. But it’s a big if, and it depends mainly if her piece of shit car can go above 60 on the parkway. 

“Yeah,” Jackie agrees, “I’ll leave now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Arthur heaves a sigh, “Drive safe, kid. I’ll make sure your usual tables are yours, even though Billy's chompin’ at the bit to steal them.”

“Tell him to fuck off,” Jackie hisses.

Arthur laughs then, a deep belly laugh, “I’ll be a little nicer about it, but I’ll keep ‘em for you. Bye.”

“Bye, thank you!” Jackie hangs up.

She scurries out of the room, searching rooms to find her backpack. Jackie knows she must look a mess right now, her hair is crazy and her clothes are probably crumpled. If Janet Taylor saw her now, she’d have a heart attack.

And then, Jackie nearly has a heart attack herself when she rushes back into the living room and hears, “Where are you going?”

Jackie jumps, spinning around to see a bleary-eyed Nat rubbing at her eyes. Lottie is sitting up and looking at her too, though Laura Lee, Van, and Tai still seem to be asleep.

She doesn’t have time to formulate a lie as she slips on her shoes so she merely blurts out, “Work” and then runs out the door. Behind her, someone yells her name but Jackie ignores it as she hops into her car, shoving it into drive and hitting the gas, all without putting her seatbelt on.

Jackie makes it to work with five minutes to spare. Beside her, her phone buzzes the whole time but she ignores it as she hurries inside, changing in the back room and then clocking in. Her buzzing phone is forgotten in the lunch rush, and then the dinner rush.

By the time she emerges from work, Jackie is covered with dried sweat, exhausted, but a few hundred dollars richer. It makes the stress all worth it. 

When she gets in her car, she finally opens her phone to see a billion messages from Lottie and Laura Lee. She flicks through them, something about Lottie freaking out after she left and almost experiencing an episode. There are even a few messages from Van and Tai and one from Nat.

“What the hell,” Jackie breathes as she texts a response to Laura Lee and Lottie. 

Sorry I left like that! Had something I couldn't miss, she tells them.

Not even a second later, Jackie’s phone rings with a call. Jackie scrunches her nose, she’s always hated phone calls, but she hits the answer button anyways.

“Lottie?” Jackie starts her car, “What’s up?”

“Jack,” Lottie sounds relieved, “you’re okay.”

“Yeah?” Jackie says, confused, as she pulls out of the parking lot, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Silence on the other end. Jackie almost pulls the phone away from her ear to look at it, then remembers what happened last time she did something like that. The fear makes her tighten her grip on the phone.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy,” Lottie gives a little breathless chuckle.

“Why would I think that?” Jackie humors her.

“I…had this dream that you got into a car accident,” Lottie tells her, “Jackie…and I know it already happened but it felt like it was going to happen again and then we couldn’t get a hold of you and I, just, freaked out.”

Jackie’s at a loss for words. She’s never been at the core of someone’s concern like this before. Shauna never worried about her like this. She can hear Lottie breathing on the other end.

“Stupid, I know,” Lottie mumbles, “sorry, I-”

“No,” Jackie cuts herself, because Lottie is a lot of things (including bad at French) but she’s not stupid, “we’re friends, yeah? You can always tell me that stuff.”

“...Thanks, Jack,” Lottie whispers, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Drive safe.”

“See you tomorrow, Lot,” Jackie responds, bringing back their little nickname.

She can imagine Lottie’s smile on the other end as Lottie hangs up and then Jackie dumps her phone into the cup-holder. Jackie tightens her grip on the steering wheel, numbly driving home.

Chapter Text

After being kicked out of her house, Jackie, admittedly, has had more bad days than good. Being at school, at least, normally serves as a respite from the rest of her life. She’s gotten used to performing for the others, the perfect puppet they want to see. She knows when to laugh, when to smile, when to give a pep talk, and when to shut up.

So, she’s expecting a normal enough day when she walks into school on Monday. She’s expecting maybe a little more banter with Lottie and Van than normal, but nothing other than that.

What she’s not expecting is a flannel-clad Shauna Shipman waiting for her at her locker. When Jackie spots her, she stops in her tracks, wide-eyed. Someone shoves past her, and Jackie flips them off behind their back, grabbing Shauna’s attention.

There's a brief moment where their eyes meet. Jackie, still wide-eyed, while Shauna naturally copies her expression, dark brown eyes enlarging until they’re perfect mirrors of each other. Shauna looks…nervous, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, her face tense. And the moment is brief, two former friends with twenty feet between them and an even longer invisible divide, but that’s all it takes for Jackie to close the distance between them.

Feeling entirely off-kilter, Jackie rasps, “Hey.”

It’s the only words that escape her mouth. There are a million things she wants to say, she wants answers first and foremost, but her brain won’t obey her. Shauna’s expression goes taut, her eyes returning to their normal size as she grips the strap of her backpack.

“Hi,” Shauna shifts her weight to her other foot, “it’s…been a while since we talked.”

“Yeah,” Jackie licks her lips, training her gaze on the floor, “I didn’t see you at Lottie’s.”

“I had homework for my college prep class,” Shauna tells her, “since when did you hang out with Lottie?”

Thinly veiled jealousy is laced within her tone. Jackie stiffens, the sudden urge to apologize hitting her. She swallows it down though, because she’s allowed to have other friends than Shauna, it’s just-

Oh. When I had you, I thought I didn’t want anyone else. I thought I didn’t need anyone else, Jackie realizes. 

“It’s…new,” Jackie concedes, “we were really close as kids though. The rest of the girls were there too.”

“Oh,” Shauna sniffs, “guess I missed out on a party.”

“Uh, yeah, we went swimming,” Jackie nervously rambles, “it was fun.”

“Cool,” Shauna mumbles.

The girls don’t say anything else. Before, there was never a moment of silence between them, Jackie hated silence, it reminded her too much of her stifling home and her father’s disappointment. She’s never told Shauna that though.

Without Shauna, she feels like a ship without its sails, just idly floating along. A part of her is tempted to reach out, to grab Shauna’s hand in hers like they used to, and forgive her, just like that. Another part of her, the larger part, thinks it’s about time she learned to fend for herself.

“I’ll, uh, see you around?” Jackie murmurs as the bell rings.

“We should actually talk,” Shauna says, voice firm before she weakens, “sometime. I mean. When you’re free.”

“Yeah,” Jackie licks her lips again and glances up. Shauna’s mouth is curved into a frown, and she doesn’t look mad anymore; she just looks sad. Dark bags are underneath her eyes that definitely weren’t there the last time they spoke.

“I’ll text you,” Jackie replies, “see you at lunch?”

An olive branch. Shauna hesitates, then nods, plastering a tiny smile on her lips. Jackie’s heart thuds in her chest as she returns it before she rushes off to her first class.

Her skin feels like it’s crawling with a thousand bugs as she walks to lunch. Class had been uneventful, but there was paranoia clawing at her that she couldn’t shake. She’s shoulder-to-shoulder with Lottie, nodding along as the other girl talks. Lottie’s wearing that pink fuzzy sweater she adores, and the fabric rubs Jackie’s bare arms and it only makes the sensation worse.

Jackie wants to pull away, to distance them, but doesn’t want to risk offending Lottie, not when they just became closer. So, she clamps her mouth shut and forces a toothy smile, smile 7, her ‘pretending nothing is wrong’ smile.

It feels like there are a dozen pairs of eyes on them as they walk. Jackie can’t help but look at the other students through her peripheral vision, unsure if it’s paranoia or they’re really looking at them. Sure, they might not make the most typical pair of friends - Jackie was known for her annoying optimism and chatter, while Lottie was more known for her blunt but honest demeanor - but they can’t look that weird together, can they?

Jackie tries to ignore everyone else and focus on the cadence of Lottie’s voice as they enter the cafeteria, but that plan goes out the window as soon as the volume hits her. Her ears immediately hurt, a hundred voices hitting her along with the clanging of utensils and the smell of a variety of food.

It makes her head spin and her stomach churn. She’s instantly overwhelmed. Still, she keeps up her smile as she follows Lottie to their table, and she takes her usual seat, across from Shauna but beside Laura Lee. Shauna’s nowhere to be seen, but Jackie knows she and Lottie are a little early.

Lottie takes her place next to Laura Lee, greeting her partner with a kiss on the cheek, and Jackie twiddles with her phone to give herself something to do. Nat’s nowhere to be seen, but Tai gives her a hesitant grin across the table. 

“Yo, Jackie didn’t see you leave yesterday, you should’ve said goodbye,” Van says, clapping a hand on Jackie’s shoulder.

Her entire body tenses at the touch, her eyes naturally fluttering shut. Jackie knows it’s a mistake and she rips her eyes open, to see Tai looking at her suspiciously. All of her brain is screaming getoutgetoutgetout but Van’s hand is still on her shoulder and it’s starting to hurt like there are needles attached to their fingertips.

“Yeah,” Jackie chokes out, tightening her grip on her phone, “sorry about that.”

Van retracts their hand, “‘S cool. No biggie.”

They take their spot next to Tai, who scoots a little closer as soon as they sit down. Any other time, Jackie would smile at their casual intimacy, but not now. Not when the back of her shirt collar is suddenly digging into her skin and her pants feel too tight and oxygen isn’t properly getting into her lungs.

Run. Run. Run. Run. Get out. Get out.

The walls are starting to close in on her. Jackie’s not sure if she’s hyperventilating or not, but she can see Lottie looking at her out of the corner of her eye.

“Forget I had to do something, bye,” Jackie rushes out, getting to her feet and grabbing her bag.

She can feel thousands of eyes on her back, her skin burning as she walks out of the lunch room. As soon as she’s out of sight, she breaks out into a sprint and doesn’t stop until she bursts through the doors to the soccer field.

The white bleachers are her shining salvation, and Jackie stumbles toward them, dropping her bag beneath them as she collapses to the ground. Being inside was too confined and too small, but she needed something to latch onto and ground herself.

Jackie presses her back against one of the metal legs of the bleachers, sucking in deep breath. Her eyes shut and she digs her nails into her palms just to try and feel something. Her skin’s still buzzing, her ears are ringing, and everything feels too bright and too loud.

She shifts herself, bringing her knees up to her chest. Burying her eyes into the top of her knees, she keeps trying to breathe, but even with her eyes shut she can feel a phantom touch on her shoulders and back.

It’s like bugs are swarming her, she can hear their wings, can feel their legs crawling over her and she tries to shove her spine into the metal, anything to feel real, but it doesn’t work. Her chest is aching and her throat hurts and she thinks she might be screaming when a hand grabs onto her shoulder.

Immediately, Jackie’s eyes snap open and she’s not at school, she’s back at her mother’s house. She can see Janet Taylor looming over her, her hands by her side but disappointment curling her lip into a sneer.

“I’ve tried all I can do,” Janet sighs, “but maybe I’ve coddled you too much.”

“What?” the word comes out disjointed.

Janet shakes her head, and Jackie watches as her arm raises, fingers outstretched, her golden wedding ring shining in the afternoon sun. She’s frozen, waiting for the strike to come, and she instinctively braces herself.

“Don’t hurt me!” Jackie squeezes her eyes shut.

“What? Jackie, what the fuck?” 

The hand slips away. Jackie keeps her eyes shut, her entire body shaking. There’s a crack of someone’s knees as they crouch beside her, the smell of cigarette smoke wafting over her.

“Jackie?” a soft, low voice calls.

Hesitantly, Jackie opens one eye. Nat Scatorccio is crouched in front of her, a dying cigarette in one hand. Jackie opens her other eye, realizing her hands are protectively stretched in front of her, trying to protect her face. She lowers them, scampering backward until she feels metal behind her.

“Hey,” Jackie tries to play it off.

Nat’s clearly not having it. Her eyebrows are pressed together, only serving to exaggerate the eyeliner around her eyes. She ashes her cigarette without pretense, then cocks her head.

Jackie looks around them, taking in the emptiness outside, the high school building lurking in the background. Right, she’s at school. She hasn’t been…back there in a few months. Jackie swallows her fear, plastering on smile 7 again.

“What are you doing out here?” Jackie deflects.

Nat frowns, “Dude, I should be asking you that. I heard you screaming.”

Embarrassing. Jackie feels her face flush, “Shit, sorry, had a weird…moment. Just ignore me.”

“Why would I-” Nat cuts herself off, teeth clicking close as she shuts her mouth. She seems to chew on her words, “Are you okay?”

The words almost break through her tough facade. Something about the gentle cadence of Nat's voice, the soft tone Nat rarely uses but Jackie's been hearing more and more of recently. She blinks away tears, eyes darting away for a millisecond before she examines Nat’s face. There’s nothing there except concern. She was expecting to see something cruel, but there was only stress and worry etched into the lines of her face.

“You have an extra cigarette?” Jackie says in lieu of a response.

Nat looks even more confused, but she digs around in her bag. She gestures to the spot beside Jackie, who nods, and she comes over, plopping down beside her and extending her legs. She hands over the carton and a lighter. Jackie shoves a cigarette into her mouth, her hands shaking as she tries to light it.

A gentle hand comes over hers and Nat coaxes the lighter from her. She lights the cigarette, and Jackie looks at her. The flame from the lighter only serves to accentuate the dark blue of Nat’s eyes. As soon as her cigarette is lit, Jackie pulls away and takes a long drag.

Nat mimics her, lighting her own. For a moment, they just smoke in silence.

“You wanna talk about it?” Nat offers, “Can’t say I’ll have any gems of wisdom to drop, but if you need a free ear…”

She trails off. Jackie takes another drag and blows the smoke away from them, “It’s…not a big deal. My…”

Jackie frowns around her cigarette, trying to figure out the right words to say. Nat gives her time, not pressing, and just smoking her cigarette. Their legs are close, Nat’s still extended while Jackie’s knees are still against her chest. If she wanted to, Jackie could reach out and press their ankles together.

It’s a strange thought, but it brings her some comfort. She hates physical touch as much as she craves it. She wants Nat to hold her hand, as much as she wants to put the length of a soccer field between them.

“I wasn’t here, for a sec,” Jackie decides, “just…in a bad place. Sorry you had to see that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Nat frowns, “Jack, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jack. The nickname makes her chest warm. Jackie wordlessly nods, eyes darting down to look at the ground. Beside her, Nat taps the ground mindlessly, just needing something to do.

“I-” Nat clears her throat, “I was like that, for a while, after my dad, y’know. Would just space out and then I was suddenly back there. So, I get it.”

“Fuckin’ sucks,” Jackie takes another drag.

Nat darkly laughs, “Yeah. It does.”

Quiet again. It’s not stifling, it doesn’t remind her of being back in that perfect, pristine hellhole. It feels…comfortable instead.

“I didn’t realize somethin’ like that happened to you,” Nat murmurs.

“We’re not close,” Jackie says immediately, “not your fault.”

Nat stiffens beside her. Jackie’s not sure what she said wrong. Before she can apologize, Nat huffs out a breath.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Nat concedes, “still. ‘M sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jackie responds, “shit happens.”

Nat snorts at that but doesn’t offer any other words. Jackie finishes her cigarette, ashing it and leaving it beside her. Her skin doesn’t itch anymore, but she feels tired, that same tiredness she feels in her bones. All she feels is drained right now.

Nat seems to notice, because after she ashes her cigarette, she turns to Jackie, “You wanna get out of here?”

“It’s only lunch.”

“And? I still have a few more absences I can get away with before they’re knocking down my door.”

Jackie can’t help her smile at Nat’s words. She weighs the pros and cons, but then just nods. Nat grins at that, a wicked little thing that shows her incisors off, and then she stands. 

A hand is offered to her. Jackie looks at it, then up to Nat, who is pointedly looking away. It’s a casual gesture, nothing more than politeness, but still, there’s an invisible weight to it. It feels so much bigger than this, for some reason. 

Jackie reaches up, grasping Nat’s hand and Nat pulls her up. Their fingers don’t interlace, or anything like that, but Nat lingers a second more. Her touch is warm, calluses on the edges of her fingertips, and then Nat pulls away.

“You got your car, Jack?” Nat says, walking toward the parking lot.

Jackie scampers after her, “Yeah. Where are we going?”

“Wherever you want,” Nat offers.

The words feel weighty like the gesture did. Jackie doesn’t know why, but Nat glances over her shoulder at her, blue eyes meeting her own. There’s a hint of adventure and apprehension to this whole thing, like standing on the precipice of something larger. It’s a brief thing, really it is, but Jackie’s heart skips a beat in her chest either way.

“Wherever I want, huh?” Jackie teases, “What if I want to go to New York?”

“I’ll pitch in for gas money,” Nat says instantly.

Oh. Any witty response Jackie was going to give dies in her throat. She bites her lip and then rushes to catch up. Their hands brush and Jackie tries to ignore the tingling on the top of her hand as her cheeks flush.

If Nat notices, she gives Jackie the courtesy of not saying anything. Jackie’s not sure what she would do if Nat called her out on it.

They end up at a drive-thru on the outskirts of Wiskayok. They both order burgers and fries and then Jackie parks at the back of the parking lot for them to eat. With the food laid out in front of them, Jackie’s stomach growls. Nat shoots her an amused look but doesn’t tease her as they start to eat.

“Didn’t take you for a burger and fries girl,” Nat jokes.

“Didn’t use to be, it never fit into my meal plan,” the words escape her without thinking.

Nat drops a fry back into its container, and even though the sound is muffled, it seems to echo around the car. Jackie’s mouth twists as she shoves another fry into her mouth, ignoring the taste of grease and the possible calories, just to avoid saying anything else stupid.

“That’s fucked,” is all Nat says.

Jackie shrugs, “Yeah. It was. Whatever, doesn’t matter now.”

Jackie chances a look up to see Nat looking like a kicked puppy. And Jesus, Jackie doesn’t know what she keeps saying wrong to get people to look at her like that twice in like two days.

“My parents raised me on takeout and mac-and-cheese,” Nat snarks, “so this is more my style.”

“I ate too many vegetables,” Jackie shivers, “I thought I’d turn orange because of how many carrots I was forced to eat. I freaked out about it when I was in third grade and Shauna had to calm me down.”

Nat’s lips quirk up, “Cute.”

Jackie’s face flames and she looks back down at her food, putting another fry into her mouth. 

“Have you and Shauna talked lately?” Nat tries for nonchalance but Jackie sees right through it.

Jackie thinks about lying but then decides the emotional toll isn’t worth it. And recently, Nat’s been really nice, so she decides to trust her.

“We talked today,” Jackie tells her, “super brief. I think we’re gonna talk more this weekend.”

Nat hums, “Word. You two were always joined at the hips when we were kids.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Jackie teases, “you followed Lottie around like she had a leash around your neck.”

Nat’s entire face goes pink, even her ears, “Did not!”

“Uh huh,” Jackie smiles, “you two weren’t any better.”

Nat scowls at her, flipping her off, but it doesn’t hold any real weight, “At least I grew out of it.”

“Yeah,” Jackie shrugs, “I dunno. We grew up together, it just felt natural then, it was all I knew.”

“And now?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Nat nods, idly running a hand through her hair. Her food’s gone, while Jackie’s is half-finished, but it’s all she can eat right now. Jackie watches her fingers glide through her hair, noticing the grown-out dark roots.

“Your hair needs touching up,” Jackie blurts out.

Nat raises an eyebrow, “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“I can help,” Jackie says.

And really, Nat’s done a lot for her today. The least Jackie can do is give back in some way. Nat looks at her for another moment, and her eyebrows raise nearly to her hairline.

“You wanna do my hair? What? You gonna curl it next?” Nat snarks.

“I’m not trying to give you a makeover,” Jackie rolls her eyes, “I was just sayin’ I can help. You have some split ends too.”

Nat pouts at that, looking down at the ends of her hair. Jackie didn’t mean to point that out, sometimes all of her mother’s nit-picking just bleeds into her, but it’s true. Nat’s hair could do with a little trim.

“Fine,” Nat huffs, “when do you wanna do it?”

“I mean, I’m not doing anything now,” Jackie says slowly.

Nat rolls her eyes, “You better not make me into a Jackie clone.”

The words sting and Jackie tries to hide her wince. It’s not Nat’s fault, she doesn’t know the words Shauna flung or the harm they did. If Jackie’s smile flickers, Nat doesn’t point it out.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jackie chirps, “don’t you trust me?”

Nat doesn’t even hesitate, “I guess I do.”

And-, okay, Jackie wasn’t expecting that. She was expecting a joke in response, or something more playful, not such an honest confession. She blinks at Nat, then tosses her food back into the bag before placing it on the backseat.

“Well, Scat, it’s your lucky day then,” Jackie says after Nat puts her seatbelt on.

Nat gives her a pity laugh, which Jackie takes thank you very much, as she pulls out of the parking lot and speeds toward the trailer park. Apprehension wars with excitement in her stomach, but there’s something about Nat that just draws Jackie in, and she’s helpless to do anything but give in to the feeling.

Chapter Text

“Stop squirming,” Jackie hisses, her hands covered in gloves as she applies bleach to the roots of Nat’s hair.

Nat looks up at her through the mirror, a pout on her lips, “It’s cold!”

“You’re such a baby,” Jackie can’t help her fond laugh as she applies the last bit.

And, ever the mature one, Nat sticks her tongue out as she flips Jackie off. Jackie rolls her eyes in response, putting the bowl of bleach down and putting a little plastic shower cap over Nat’s head. Nat grimaces as it accidentally snaps against her hairline, and Jackie sends her an apologetic smile as she puts her hair up.

When that’s all done, Jackie neatly takes her gloves off and disposes of everything. Nat’s still examining herself in the mirror, turning her head left and right.

“I look like a lunch lady,” she snarks.

“You’re right, I need to take a photo of this,” Jackie fumbles for her phone.

“Jackie,” Nat warns.

Jackie ignores her, finding her phone and snapping a quick photo. Before she can take anymore, Nat whirls around, hands outstretched as they wrestle for her phone. Nat manages to snatch the phone, just as Jackie locks it. Their eyes meet, a silent challenge, as Nat holds the phone above her head.

(It’s much less effective since Nat’s not that much taller, and also, she’s still sitting. Jackie doesn’t bother pointing this out and ruining her fun though.)

“Passcode?” Nat asks.

“I’m not telling you,” Jackie crosses her arms.

Nat quirks an eyebrow up, her eyes flicking between the phone and Jackie. Then, her fingers move, swiping on the screen and moving the phone up as she shoves the phone in Jackie’s direction.

“The fuck?” Jackie squeals.

“Evidence,” Nat remarks, “Lottie texted you. She wants to make sure you’re okay.”

“You’re reading my texts?” Jackie hisses, “Those are private!”

“What? You got some juicy secrets on here?” Nat teases, “She’s alive, Lot-”

“-Nat kidnapped me-”

“-You drove us here!”

Jackie just pouts dramatically, widening her eyes. The puppy dog always used to work on Shauna. Nat glares at her over the phone, then lowers it. Jackie supposes the look really does work on anyone.

“Stop looking at me like that with your bug eyes,” Nat frowns, “it makes me feel like I killed someone.”

“These are just my regular eyes!” Jackie’s pout is real this time, “I was born with them.”

“Fine, they’re cute or whatever,” Nat’s cheeks flush and she gets up from the stool she was sitting on.

“You think my eyes are cute?” Jackie says.

Nat doesn’t respond, brushing past her out of the tiny bathroom and entering her room. She sits down on the edge of the bed, and Jackie follows her in, standing in the doorway and taking everything in. There’s an entire wall dedicated to music, an old guitar propped up on a stand. CDs and Vinyls are stacked in a disorganized pile, next to a cheap record player.

“You got any Fleetwood Mac?” Jackie can’t help but ask.

Nat thinks for a moment, then moves, crouching down and going through her Vinyl collection. Jackie leans against the doorframe, content to just watch her. Nat keeps digging through her collection before pulling out Rumours and popping it onto the record player.

Nat moves the needle, fiddling around with it, before Dreams starts blasting through the room. Jackie can’t help her smile as Nat winces, cranking the volume back down until it’s soft.

“Like a heartbeat drives you mad,” Jackie sings along, under her breath.

Nat shoots her a look but doesn’t say anything as Jackie switches to humming, staying at her spot near the edge of the room. Nat sits back down on the bed, and one hand rests beside her. Hesitantly, she pats the side of the bed.

“You can sit, y’know,” Nat says, “I promise I cleaned the sheets.”

Jackie raises an eyebrow but enters the room, “I was trying to be polite. And I didn’t even think that, but now I’m doubting if you’re telling the truth or not.”

Nat rolls her eyes, “Sue me for trying to be nice.”

Jackie sits criss-crossed on the bed, resting her elbows on her knees, “You are nice.”

“Am not,” Nat snorts.

Jackie frowns, “Uh, yeah, you are. You’re like a bleeding heart.”

“I’m a dick,” Nat corrects.

“Not to Lottie,” Jackie says, “or me, most of the time. You, like, try sometimes. But I don’t think it works.”

Nat goes quiet, her forehead wrinkling as she looks down at her hands. Jackie bites her lip as she reaches forward, taking one of Nat’s hands in her own. Nat startles at that, and Jackie’s about to pull away, when Nat’s grip slightly tightens. It’s miniscule, barely there pressure, but Jackie notices it.

“My head feels like it’s burning,” Nat breaks the silence.

“Maybe you should stop bleaching your hair,” Jackie teases.

Nat stills, immediately shaking her head, “Nah. Never.”

Jackie doesn’t press her, and she just squeezes Nat’s hand before pulling away, “One day, you should do my makeup.”

“You want a make-over?” Nat’s grin is goofy, “You gonna start wearing combat boots next?”

“Maybe,” Jackie sniffs.

Nat’s grin grows wider, “I’d pay to see that.”

“We can recreate that one meme,” the words are out without her thinking, and then Jackie resists the urge to scream as her entire face goes red.

“What meme?” Nat asks.

“Nothin’, ignore me,” Jackie waves her away, “you should wash the bleach out.”

Nat blinks at her, confused, but acquiesces, getting to her feet and disappearing into the bathroom. As soon as she’s out of eyesight, Jackie buries her head in her hands and feels the warmth of her cheeks. Her mind goes blank, except for a very specific image of Nat straddling her while she does Jackie’s makeup.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Do you like it?” Jackie says nervously, a pair of scissors in one hand.

Nat’s hair has been cut a little shorter, still long in the back, but the sides are shorter to frame her face more. Nat runs a hand through her hair, rustling it and messing it up, and Jackie stays quiet. Nat turns her face in the mirror again, then smoothes out her bangs.

“Yeah,” Nat’s smile is small, but toothy, “thanks, Jack.”

Jackie desperately tries to ignore how her heart skips a beat, “‘Course.”

Jackie squeezes her eyes closed, chasing sleep that’ll never come. After a moment, she reluctantly opens her eyes and turns on her lamp, looking around her studio apartment. It’s bare of any decorations, nothing more than a mattress shoved into the corner, a lamp on the ground, an old and fraying armchair, a wobbly table, and a shitty second-hand carpet. 

Still, it’s home. If she had more pink in here, she’d even call it a dream. All of her stuff was still at her old house, she didn’t have the courage to go and try and get it. With her luck, her parents probably threw everything out already.

Her shoulder aches, right on her old scar. Absentmindedly, she rubs at it as she glances down at her bare legs. Her legs, at least, are marred by nothing more than soccer accidents. A scrape that never healed right, some marks from cleats, fresh bruises from tripping over her own feet. All accidental, they’re her favorite marks because it’s from something she loves.

She loved her parents once, she thinks. Jackie can’t remember when the switch happened, if it was overnight or if it happened slowly. Maybe the love was lost the first time her mother raised her voice, maybe it was lost the first time her dad forgot her at school, she can’t remember.

Sometimes, she wishes she could pinpoint it if only to make herself feel better about the whole thing. Dates and timelines made sense to her. Maybe if she could find the event, she could analyze all the things that led up to it.

Jackie wonders when her parents stopped loving her. She wonders if they ever loved her at all.

The scar on her eyebrow aches. She resists the urge to scratch at it. When they were younger, Shauna used to call it her Harry Potter scar. Jackie never had the heart to tell Shauna how it happened and made up a lie about hitting her head on her bedpost.

Shauna. Jackie’s supposed to see her tomorrow, they scheduled a time to meet at Shauna’s house, the only place they could go without a risk of running into anyone else. It makes her body itch with anticipation and anxiety. The waiting was the worst part, all of the build-up to it.

It’s going to be fine, Jackie tells herself, still when she closes her eyes, all she can see is Shauna’s angry face, her dark eyes lit with disgust, as they hurled insults at each other.

It’s going to be fine, Jackie repeats, because maybe if she says it enough, then it’ll be true.

Jackie walks to Shauna’s if only to burn off excess anxiety. Besides, she doesn’t think she can handle being in a confined metal box without having a panic attack right now. The walk is cold, and her hands ache in her pockets, but it gives her time to think. She doesn’t want to react in the moment, no matter what Shauna says, she doesn’t want to risk hurting the other girl anymore.

When did you stop loving me? Jackie wants to ask, do you know when? When did you see something in me you didn’t like?

Soon enough, Jackie’s standing outside the Shipman household. She looks up at the house, steeling herself, and then rings the doorbell. Rocking back and forth on her heels as she waits, she looks around the familiar neighborhood. Her old house isn’t far away, if she was braver she’d be tempted to stop by.

“Hey,” Shauna greets as she rips open the door, “shit, did you walk here? You look cold.”

Jackie guesses her nose must be red, as she shrugs, “Wasn’t bad.”

Shauna shoots her a concerned look, like everything between them is fine, as she steps aside and Jackie enters. Neatly, Jackie takes off her shoes and hangs up her coat.

Deb Shipman is standing in the kitchen, and she looks up from her crossword puzzle as soon as Jackie steps inside. Jackie is hit by a wave of affection, and she pushes down the urge to hug her.

“Jackie!” Deb moves her glasses up, “It’s been too long, honey.”

“Hi, Deb,” Jackie chirps, “it’s good to see you.”

“We’re going to talk in my room, Mom,” Shauna says, inching toward the stairs.

“You better stay for dinner, Jackie, that’s a threat,” Deb wags her finger.

Jackie can’t deny the mother she wishes she had anything and she dumbly nods. Deb’s smile is bright and Jackie returns it, as Shauna races up the stairs and Jackie trails after her. They reach Shauna’s room and she walks inside, overcome by nostalgia.

It feels like eons ago that she was here like she was a whole new person entirely. Jackie looks around the room, taking it in again. The too-small bed where they used to have sleepovers, curled around each other like nature demanded. There are still traces of her everywhere, pictures of her and Shauna plastered across the walls. 

Maybe there was hope for them yet.

Shauna sits down on her bed while Jackie shuts the door behind them. It makes her feel better, leaning against the closed door with something to brace herself. She looks back at the wall of pictures and sees one of the team.

“Remember when Van laughed so hard they snorted milk out their nose?” Jackie murmurs.

Shauna rolls her eyes, “It got all over my shirt, so yeah I do.”

They share a quiet laugh. Jackie looks down at her hands, flexing her fingers to give herself something to do. 

“You were my best friend, y’know,” Jackie’s voice is still quiet as she fishes for words, “I don’t know where we went wrong.”

“You never asked for my opinion, you just steamrolled me,” Shauna’s voice is sharp.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Shauna doesn’t respond for a moment. Jackie looks up at her, tempted to close the distance between them.

“I don’t like soccer,” Shauna bites her lip, “I never did.”

“You can quit.”

“I’m not going to.”

Well, Jackie tried. She wants to throw her hands up in the air and give up, but this is Shauna. The same girl who used to tie her shoes for her when they were kids because Jackie was a slow learner. The same girl who would read to her, because Shauna was at a much higher reading level than her.

“I’m going to Brown in the fall,” Shauna states.

Jackie raises an eyebrow, “I know.”

“You’re not going to argue? Not going to try and change my mind?” Shauna fires back.

Jackie rolls her eyes, “What would that change? Shauna, I just wish you told me, I knew you applied, I thought you just didn’t get in because you never mentioned it again.”

She can’t help but gesture with her hands as she talks. Shauna softens a little, her eyes on Jackie’s flailing movement.

“And I didn’t want to bring up a sore subject, so I just assumed. Crucify me for it,” Jackie continues, “I would’ve been happy for you, really. You’re the smartest person I know. But you didn’t say anything so I started planning our future and now I just feel like a fuckin’ idiot.”

Shauna looks at her, her mouth curving into her frown. Her dark eyes flick away, then back to Jackie’s face. Jackie watches as Shauna sighs and runs a hand through her hair.

“You always got everything you wanted, everything,” Shauna emphasizes, “people just fell at your feet. You liked a boy? Well, he was officially off-limits because Jackie Taylor wanted him. You forgot to do your homework? I always gave you the answers. It felt like you were this, this, perfect It-Girl and nothing I could do would compare.”

“You were jealous,” Jackie says dumbly.

Shauna scoffs, “How could I not be? Everywhere I went, I was always asked about you. It was never ‘hey Shauna, what’s up?’ it was ‘hey Shauna, where’s Jackie?’. It was always about you, you, you. And I just…got tired of it. You played the music you wanted to hear in the car, and every time, you made me dress the way you wanted. Nothing I wanted mattered.”

“I just wanted you to be happy,” Jackie says feebly, it’s the only answer she has. Shauna was always broody, Jackie didn’t know if someone was picking on her or what, and she tried to help in the only ways she could. She was good at pretending to fit in, all the intricate social cues and everything else never made sense to her.

Jackie sees it was misguided now, and her shoulder throbs. She blinks away the visages of a memory, unable to let herself slip up. Shauna keeps looking at her, expecting Jackie to say something else, but Jackie knows no apology will soothe what she’s done. Shauna’s not chomping at the bit to apologize either.

So, Jackie does, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what I was doing.”

“You never do, do you?” Shauna’s voice is softer, but the accusatory tone remains.

Jackie turns her face away, unable to keep looking at her. It’s like staring at Shauna too long hurts her eyes, and it reminds her of staring at the sun, but more like looking too deep into a memory. Nostalgia is a liar, nostalgia is a siren threatening to pull her under the waves and slam her head into a rock.

“I’m…sorry too,” Shauna finally says, because she always has to get the last word, “I shouldn’t have said all those things to you.”

Shauna hurled insults like they came second nature to her. Jackie didn’t know she was capable of such violence, hell, the worst thing Jackie could say was a quote from Beaches. She sees their differences now, spread out between them like a chalk outline.

“...Did you mean them?” Jackie can’t help but ask.

A pause. It’s only a second, but it’s a hot knife digging into her ribs and then suddenly Jackie’s bleeding out on the old wooden floor. Jackie squeezes her eyes shut, letting out a shaky breath as Shauna says, “No.”

Shauna says “No”, but Jackie doesn’t believe her. She thinks it’s the first time in her life that she’s realized Shauna’s a liar. It hurts more than thinking of their dissolving friendship. 

“I think,” Shauna licks her lips, “I think we should take some time apart. Before we try being friends again.”

Do you hate me that much? I need you, Jackie wants to scream, who the fuck am I without you?

“Alright,” Jackie murmurs, “I should head home.”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Shauna sounds genuinely confused.

“That’s not taking time apart,” Jackie’s forehead creases.

“I thought we’d start tomorrow,” Shauna says awkwardly.

Jackie doesn’t say anything, torn between her love for Deb’s cooking and her own self-preservation. Shauna seems to decide for her, apparently a first for them, as she stands up.

“I can walk you home,” she says hurriedly.

And yeah, Jackie is getting a lot of mixed signals from her at this moment. Jackie frowns at her, utterly baffled, as she stands up straighter.

“It’s a long walk,” is all Jackie tells her.

Shauna tilts her head, “It’s like a few blocks. Did your family move?”

“I moved,” Jackie fiddles with her fingers, “got an apartment.”

Shauna stops in her tracks, staring at her. Her eyes narrow as she examines Jackie’s face, and Jackie can tell she’s deep in thought. Her eyes flick up to Jackie’s eyebrow, it’s a split-second thing, but Shauna’s frown only deepens.

“Alone?” Shauna says.

Jackie gives a little nod, “Yeah.”

“When?”

“Uh, when I turned 18. M-my parents thought it would teach me independence or something,” Jackie can’t make eye contact.

“Can I drive you home?” Shauna asks, “Look, I know, this whole-, we’re not best friends anymore. But, it’s really cold out.”

Jackie doesn’t say anything. Shauna sucks in a breath, “I’d feel better knowing you made it back safe.”

Silently, Jackie nods. Shauna seems to relax a little bit, but there’s an emotion in her eyes that Jackie can’t decipher. Jackie opens the door, and they walk down the stairs in silence. Deb is still in the kitchen, and she looks up at their entrance.

“That was fast,” Deb comments, “dinner won’t be ready for another hour.”

“Sorry, Deb,” Jackie scratches the back of her neck, “I gotta get home. Family emergency.”

“Everything alright?” Deb asks, face morphing into concern.

Jackie forces a smile. Deb crosses the room, arms outstretched, and then before Jackie knows it, she’s being pulled into a hug. It’s warm and comforting, and Jackie can’t remember the last time she hugged her. Deb cradles the back of her head, and Jackie releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Our door’s always open if you need something, sweetie,” Deb murmurs.

Jackie bites her cheek, vehemently resisting the urge to sob, as she nods and pulls back. Deb pets her hair one last time, and Jackie wants to lean into the touch, but before she can, the kind hand is gone. Jackie sends her one last smile, smile 13, and then puts her shoes and coat back on.

The walk to Shauna’s car is quiet, and the car ride even more so. Shauna’s sad music drones on, Phoebe Bridgers this time, and Jackie doesn’t comment on it. At one point, Shauna reaches forward and turns it up, almost daring Jackie to do something, but Jackie ignores her.

She’s tired of playing a petty game of wits. She’s tired of the ocean of bad blood between them. Games are fun, but Jackie’s tired of losing.

When they pull up to her apartment building, Shauna parks, examining the dingy building on the edge of town. The bad side of town, close to Nat and Van’s trailers. 

“You live here?” The judgment is clear in her tone.

“Yep,” Jackie puts her hand on the handle, “thanks for the ride.”

“I can’t believe your parents didn’t get you something nicer,” Shauna comments, more to herself than anything else.

Jackie glances at her, “Guess you don’t know ‘em as well as you thought.”

Shauna meets her eyes, “I guess I don’t.”

They don’t say anything more. Jackie climbs the stairs to her apartment, fumbling for her key, before eventually unlocking the door. Still, the entire time, Shauna waits for her to get inside before she peels out of the parking lot.

It’s not progress. It feels like a loss, more so than anything else. It feels like someone's split her heart in two and left her to bleed out. And in her dark apartment, all alone, Jackie finally lets herself cry.

Chapter Text

“When are you throwing a housewarming party?” Tai’s grin is sharp as she turns to Jackie at the lunch table.

Jackie blinks at her, looking around the table to see a mix of confused looks and expectant ones. Half of the Yellowjackets look like they’re in the know, and Jackie immediately looks to Shauna. From across the table, Shauna slinks down in her seat, trying to duck her head and hide. With everyone looking at her, Jackie tenses, averting her eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Jackie can’t hide her frown, desperately trying to deflect.

“Shauna mentioned you got your own place,” Tai says, confused.

“It’s, like, fuckin’ tiny,” Jackie waves the idea away, “Lottie’s parties are much cooler.”

Jackie glances up, to see Van grinning, but Lottie and Nat are still looking at her. Lottie’s looking at her suspiciously, as if there’s a conspiracy board with Jackie right at the center of it. On the other hand, Nat just looks devastated. Jackie resists the urge to squirm, meeting their eyes.

“You’re living on your own?” Nat asks, a little quieter.

“Yeah,” Jackie says, spinning her tale, “my parents thought it would teach me responsibility or some bullshit. I dunno, it’s pretty boring, honestly.”

“Is the entire thing bright pink?” Van teases.

Jackie just flips her off, which causes Van to dissolve into laughter. The table eases up on her, drifting into more casual conversation, and Jackie rubs her palm against her thigh.

A knee gently knocks against hers. Jackie turns her head, to see Nat still looking at her, her eyebrow raised. A silent are you okay and Jackie forces a smile, nodding her head and then turning back to her half-eaten lunch.

She has to get groceries today, and she pulls her list out under the table, working through it. Most of the fruit she wanted to get is out of season, so she’ll have to resort to canned goods, but at least it’ll last longer. Jackie doesn’t buy perishables anymore, they’re too expensive.

“When are you going?” Nat murmurs.

Jackie startles, narrowly avoiding slamming her hand on the underside of the table out of shock. Nat sends her an apologetic look, but at least no one else notices.

“Today, probably, why?” Jackie asks.

“Can you get me some licorice?” Nat hands over a five-dollar bill, “I’d go but duty calls.”

“Work?” Jackie guesses.

Nat nods with a roll of her eyes, “Some new place outside of town. Fuckin’ shitty if you ask me. Place reeks of piss.”

“Does it pay well?”

Nat nods, “16 bucks an hour.”

“Wow, you’re rich,” Jackie teases, knocking their knees together again.

Nat’s expression softens, a toothy grin on her lips, “Don’t go tellin’ everyone. They’ll want me to buy them dinner next.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Van interrupts.

Nat glares at them across the table, “Nun-ya.”

“What?” Van’s forehead creases.

“None of your business, loser,” Nat flips them off.

Van pouts as the table bursts into laughter. Jackie laughs along, rolling her eyes at the joke, and slipping her grocery list back into her pocket. She feels a little lighter, after the sleepover, her friendships are a little more solid again. It feels nice to be wanted.

When Jackie gets to the soccer field after school, she stops in her tracks when she sees the number of people there. 5 people - Laura Lee, Lottie, Nat, Van, and Tai - are all bundled up and kicking a soccer ball back and forth. She blinks at them, as if the scene in front of her is nothing more than a mirage before Laura Lee spots her and waves.

“Jackie, join us!” they gesture her over.

Jackie walks over, idly grabbing onto her left elbow with her right hand and rubbing her thumb over the bone. It’s instinctual, a stance made to protect herself, and she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it until she’s standing in front of Laura Lee.

“What are you guys doing here?” Jackie asks them.

Laura Lee’s smile is bright as she glances over at Lottie, who takes her place beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Thought it’d be good for us to get some practice in,” Lottie effortlessly answers, “wanna do three-versus-three?”

Jackie glances at the others, to see them looking at her expectantly. It makes her bones feel itchy. She nods, “How are we splitting?”

“Playground rules,” Lottie grins, “you and Tai are captains.”

Jackie raises an eyebrow at that, and Tai just laughs, “Unless you’re scared, Taylor?”

Barely resisting the urge to wince, Jackie forces a smile, smile 3, effortless and confident. Tai looks at her for a moment too long, eyes appraising her before she turns to Van.

“I choose Van,” Tai declares.

Jackie immediately answers, “Nat.”

Nat’s eyes widen, “Damn.”

Nat comes over, taking her side before Jackie, before she lowers her voice, “Sure know how to make a girl feel special, Jack.”

“You’re the fastest player out here,” Jackie responds, “I didn’t even have to think.”

Tai chooses Laura Lee next, which means Jackie gets Lottie, and this time, the smile that comes to Jackie’s lips is real. Tai falls exactly into Jackie’s trap, and Jackie looks out at the field, picturing the plays they could do. Soccer strategy made sense, one of the only things she knew, deep in her bones, was how the other girls played.

Nat was the fastest, Tai the most passionate, Shauna the smartest, Laura Lee the most agile, Lottie the strongest, and Van the scrappiest. Those things made sense, their play style imitated their personalities, and Jackie knew that Lottie and Nat had an unparalleled sense of chemistry on the field.

“What’s the plan?” Lottie turns to her.

Jackie hums, “Lottie you’re on Van, Nat you’re on Laura Lee. Let me handle Tai.”

“Please don’t hurt my partner,” Lottie can’t help her smile as she turns to Nat.

Nat gives her a lazy salute, “Aye, aye.”

The girls break their impromptu huddle and go to face-off against their opponents. With no ref, Tai’s team gets the ball first, and then they are off. Tai has always been faster than Jackie, and Jackie’s lungs burn from exertion as she races after her. Jackie swings an ankle out, trying to steal the ball from her, but no dice.

The open goal looms in front of them. Tai’s eyes dart to her teammates, but no one’s open, and Jackie tracks the movements. Jackie pivots, trying to block the goal with her body, but Tai rears back and smoothly kicks the ball through her legs and straight into the goal.

“One, zilch,” Tai grins, “keep up Captain.”

Playfully, Jackie sticks her tongue out as she retrieves the ball and returns to the center of the field. She gives possession to Lottie, trying to outmaneuver Tai which is just a lost cause. Jackie glances at Nat, who’s covered heavily by Laura Lee, and then decides to bite the bullet. She uses all of her remaining energy to race toward the goal, Tai on her heels.

Jackie turns and there’s a split second where she’s open, before the ball comes careening for her. She’s expecting the ball to come toward her feet, not her head, and she freezes on instinct.

A flash. A golden wedding band illuminated by sunlight. Crimson red nails. A wrinkled hand reaching for her.

“-ackie!” 

And then, Jackie’s shoved to the ground. The turf hits her, the air gone from her lungs for a moment, as she blinks up at the sky.

“You good?” Tai looks at her warily.

“What happened?” Jackie asks.

Tai blinks at her, glancing at the goal and then back at her, “Lottie kicked a ball at your skull. You didn’t even move, I had to shove you out of the way.”

“Oh. Thanks,” Jackie tells her.

Tai still looks shell-shocked, and Jackie puts a hand to her temple, expecting to see blood or something. Her hand comes away clean, and in response to Tai’s confusion, Jackie mimics her.

“Hey, Jack, are you okay?” Lottie enters her field of vision.

“I’m fine,” Jackie frowns, “why does everyone keep looking at me like that?”

By now, the others have gathered around her in a semi-circle, exchanging hesitant looks. Lottie shoos them off and then leans closer.

“I didn’t realize they were, I’m sorry,” Lottie tells her.

“It’s fine,” because it is fine, it’s just weird, “did you make the goal?”

“Duh,” Lottie grins, but it doesn’t look genuine, her top teeth aren’t poking out like normal, “you…Jack, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Yeah,” and god, Jackie is so confused right now.

Lottie appraises her for another moment, before getting to her feet and offering her a hand, “Let’s win this game, yeah?”

Jackie nods, and trails after her toward the center.

They lose, 4-5 because Laura Lee manages to pull off the most insane hat trick known to mankind. Lottie doesn’t even look upset as she brings her partner into her arms. Jackie and Nat exchange a look, but neither looks that frustrated at the outcome as they exchange handshakes with the others.

“You got any plans after, Jack? We were gonna get shakes,” Lottie says.

“Gotta get groceries,” Jackie says, “another time?”

Lottie brightens at that, her normal smile appearing. Van shuffles from side to side, “Mind if I join? I need to pick up some bread.”

“Sure,” Jackie shrugs, “I’m not paying for your shit though.”

Van smirks, “Come on, Jackie, what happened to chivalry? Or even charity?”

Jackie rolls her eyes as they walk away, Van keeping up the majority of the banter as Nat joins them. The three walk toward the parking lot, leaving behind Lottie, Laura Lee, and Tai.

Lottie turns to Tai, gently elbowing her, “You okay?”

“No,” Tai snaps, “I don’t get how you can be.”

Lottie looks at the backs of the others, “I don’t want to scare her off.”

Laura Lee nods, “We’re doing the best we can with the info we have.”

Tai crosses her arms, “What if our best isn’t good enough?”

Laura Lee shakes their head, “It has to be.”

Tai deflates a little, and Lottie looks at her. Some of her frustration has left her face, leaving behind only concern. Tai’s shoulders slump a little, her grip tightening on her own arms.

“I just…I’ve never heard someone scream like that before,” Tai mumbles, “like the ball was about to kill her.”

Lottie doesn’t have any words to reassure her and doesn’t have the clues to piece together the whole of this puzzle. She has theories, of course, but nothing concrete. Instead, she just sighs.

“She’ll tell us in her own time,” Lottie says, “we just need to make sure to be there for her.”

“We’re a team,” Tai states, “we’ll be there.”

Laura Lee smiles at her, softly, squeezing Tai’s arm, before putting their hand in Lottie’s and walking away from the soccer field.

“You treat me so well, Cap,” Van comments as they walk up to the grocery store.

“Hmm?” Jackie looks over to them.

Van grins, “This is right across the street from my place.”

They point, and Jackie turns, to see the trailer park across the four-lane road. Jackie just shrugs, “Didn’t even realize, to be honest.”

“Hey, I’ll still take it,” Van says as they step inside.

The warmth hits them immediately, and Jackie unzips her coat. Van tucks their hands into their pockets as they look around, while Jackie pulls her phone from her pocket.

“You got a long list?” Van asks, craning their head to look over her shoulder.

Jackie shakes her head, “Nah. Just some essentials.”

I can’t afford anything else, Jackie doesn’t say.

Van nods, pulling back as Jackie grabs a basket. They small-talk as they make their way to the first aisle, and Jackie internally compares prices as she grabs items. Van keeps talking, filling the silence with more information about their life, about their last date with Tai, and about their last grade on their Chem test.

It’s strange but soothing. Van and Jackie have never really hung out before, but Jackie finds herself nodding along and smiling at Van’s puns and terrible dad jokes. 

When they turn out of the bread aisle, Jackie feels eyes on her. Her skin crawls, a sense of foreboding filling her, as she scans around them. Van doesn’t seem any wiser, and Jackie shakes off the wave of paranoia.

“What kind of licorice does Nat like?” Jackie asks as they enter another aisle.

The towering shelves feel more secure than being out in the open. Usually, Jackie prefers wide-open spaces, but there’s something about the paranoia clawing at her that makes her want to hide instead.

Van blinks at her, “What did you say?”

Jackie repeats herself. Slowly, a shit-eating grin spreads across Van’s entire face.

“What?” Jackie’s eyebrows furrow.

“She likes the red ones. Cherry, if they have it, but she’ll settle for strawberry,” Van ignores her question, pointing to the brands in front of them.

Internally, Jackie winces at the price tag but picks up a packet and puts them in the basket. They keep walking, as Van hums under their breath.

“Didn’t realize you two had gotten so close,” Van says casually.

“We’re friends,” Jackie shrugs, ignoring the implications that Van is trying to throw, “Nat’s cool.”

“Cool, huh?” Van prods, “Think she’s pretty?”

Jackie shoots them a glare, “I know what you’re doing.”

Van doesn’t back down, that smug smirk on their lips, “Still didn’t answer my question.”

“Will you drop it if I answer?” Jackie rolls her eyes.

Van grins, “Of course.”

Jackie opens her mouth to respond when a familiar face appears at the end of the aisle. Her blood goes cold. All of her fingers and toes freeze, and nausea pools in her stomach. She thinks she might throw up as her body temperature fluctuates and her head goes dizzy.

Van’s expression morphs from amusement into concern, as the source of every one of Jackie’s nightmares disappears from view.

“Are you okay?” Van asks, “You got really pale.”

All of Van’s words sound as if they’re spoken from underwater. Mutely, Jackie summons the energy to nod. She licks her lips, and her tongue rests heavy in her mouth.

“Sorry,” Jackie stumbles on her words, “thought I saw someone I knew.”

“An ex?” Van jokes.

“Yeah, let’s go with that,” Jackie turns away from them, “I think I have everything I need.”

“Word, let’s check out,” Van leads the way back to the front, a bag of bread in one hand and a jar of peanut butter in the other.

Quietly, Jackie follows behind. The levity from before is long gone, her flight-or-fight instinct kicking in, and all that’s left to do is run. Her body buzzes with adrenaline and her hands shake as she moves through self-checkout. Van is a comforting presence, staying behind her, but it’s not enough to quell her anxiety.

As soon as they’re outside, Jackie’s breath stalls in her lungs. Van lingers by her side, a plastic bag in one hand.

“Thanks for giving me a ride,” Van tells her, “good to catch up.”

“Yeah,” Jackie forces her tongue to work, “see you tomorrow!”

Van nods, then hesitates, as if they want to say something more before they throw a smile her way and then trail off into the distance. Jackie watches them go, fumbling for her keys before a hand wraps around her left wrist and pulls her off to the side.

“What-” Jackie whirls, trying to wrestle her arm away, and then cuts herself off.

There, in front of her, illuminated only by the yellowing overhead lights, is her mother. The light only serves to elongate her features, morphing the wrinkles in her face and making her look more severe.

“Jacqueline,” her mother’s expression doesn’t morph into anything kind, no surprise, no affection, there’s nothing in her pupils but disdain, “I thought I saw you.”

Her mother is still gripping onto her wrist, her fingernails digging in. Jackie goes still, the pain fading into nothingness, as she blinks up at her.

“Mother,” Jackie manages to say, “I didn’t know you came to this point of town.”

“I don’t usually,” her mother hums, her nose turned up, “but I was driving by and needed something else for dinner. The produce here is…subpar to say the least.”

“Of course,” Jackie averts her eyes, staring down at her reddening wrist.

“I thought you would’ve left town by now,” her mother’s grip tightens.

“And what? Turn tail?” Jackie can’t help but say.

“Hmm. No, I simply thought you were smarter,” her mother tsks, “you never know when to quit, do you, Jacqueline?”

Jackie doesn’t respond, looking down at her wrist and seeing blood welling up from underneath her mother’s fingers. She can’t feel the pain, not now, it’s like all of her emotions are blocked off and replaced by shock. 

When she was a kid, she always thought she’d bleed a different color than everyone else. Taylors were different. Taylors were the closest thing to gods in Wiskayok.

But Jackie Taylor bleeds red, just like everyone else. She was never special. She was a girl placed on a pedestal, nothing more than a shiny trophy. When she lost her value, when she found her backbone, the rug was ripped out from underneath her.

Jackie thought she made peace with her past, but it still hurts, like running water over a burn wound.

“Have you changed your ways?” Janet Taylor tilts her head, glaring down at her daughter.

Jackie meets her eyes, willing herself not to start shaking, and contemplates her options. On one hand, she could lie. She could use her best acting skills, and tell her mother she’s changed. There’s a chance, even if it’s not big, that she’ll be welcomed back into the family, and they’ll sweep this entire incident away as if it never happened.

She could go back to living in a glass tower, and laugh at everyone throwing rocks around her.

It wouldn’t be safe, or comfortable, or make her happy, but it would be the smartest option. She wouldn’t have to worry about money anymore. She could pretend these fleeting few months were just a lesson learned, and then she could have financial security. 

Jackie opens her mouth and almost changes the course of her life with her words. They form on her tongue, fluttering against the back of her teeth, and then she looks back up at her mother.

There’s a frown on Janet’s lips like she knows the answer before Jackie can even speak. Her forehead is wrinkled and there are crow’s feet by her eyes. A sign of aging, a sign of a life well-lived, and a sign of someone who had years to correct their own behavior.

Some things will never change, and some people will always be a lost cause. It’s a sobering thought, but not an incorrect one.

Jackie shuts her mouth. She shakes her head.

Janet Taylor lets go of her, looking disappointed but not surprised, “So be it. Jacqueline?”

“Yes?” Jackie rasps.

“You should leave town,” Janet tells her, “before things get worse.”

The threat hangs in the air, long after Janet takes her leave. Jackie stares after the retreating figure of her mother, clutching onto her grocery bags. Her wrist aches, she doesn’t want to see the damage. 

Jackie drives home in a haze, unpacking her sparse groceries and then staring at her empty apartment. It’s barely livable, nothing more than clutter shoved into corners and labeled furniture instead of junk. 

She could have a place like this anywhere. There’s nothing tying her to Wiskayok. She could take her meager savings and her shitty car and run, and just drive until she runs out of gas.

Jackie doesn’t have to stay here.

Jackie takes a deep breath, absentmindedly running her fingers over her left wrist. She looks down at it, to see dried blood smeared across her skin. Her phone buzzes in her pocket. She doesn’t answer it.

She looks around her apartment one last time, then makes up her mind.

Chapter Text

“Have you seen Jackie?” Lottie asks, grabbing Nat by the shoulder.

Nat scowls, shrugging her off, “Okay, personal space, Charlotte. And no, have you?”

The joke doesn’t land. Lottie’s still tense, like a deer about to take off. Nat glances around the busy hallway, then grabs Lottie by the forearm, beginning to drag her toward the bathrooms. Lottie changes the grip halfway, maneuvering them so Lottie can grab onto Nat’s hand, and Nat resists the urge to roll her eyes at her touchiness.

Still, they make their way into the bathroom, to see one of the JV girls touching up their makeup in the bathroom. 

“Scram,” Nat hisses.

The girl, Crystal, looks at them, then their still joint hands, and then flees. Lottie tries to hide her laugh as Crystal leaves, but can’t quite manage as she lets go of Nat.

“Great, now the whole school’s gonna think we’re fucking,” Nat rolls her eyes, resting her back against a sink.

“You don't want a certain someone to find out?” Lottie teases.

Nat frowns at her, “The fuck you tryna say?”

Lottie squints at her, “You and-, shit, Jackie. She hasn’t responded to any of my texts.”

Nat will take to her grave the way her face flushes, and despite her urge to argue the subject, because she definitely does not have feelings for Jackie Taylor, she resists. She pulls out her phone, flicking through her texts.

“I talked to her on Friday,” Nat says looking at the timestamps, “Van told me she got me licorice. I asked when I could get it, and she said…fuck, on Monday.”

“Nat, she’s good at texting,” Lottie frowns, “okay, maybe not good, but she always gets back to me within a few hours. She doesn’t just ghost. And Jackie never misses school, unless it’s…”

“Unless it’s what?” Nat looks up at her.

Lottie scratches her arm, avoiding her gaze, “You remember sophomore year? When Jackie was out for like three days and missed practice.”

Nat tries to recall the incident, “...Yeah? She said she had the flu or something.”

“She got into a car accident, a bad one,” Lottie tells her, “metal went straight through her shoulder.”

“What?” Nat shrieks.

Lottie solemnly nods, “You can’t tell her I told you. But she had this nasty scar on her back, I saw it at the sleepover.”

The dots connect, the whole reason Jackie and Lottie disappeared for thirty minutes. Nat remembers seeing them one moment and then looking for them the next. Laura Lee had merely squeezed her shoulder and told her not to worry.

“Why did she hide it?” Nat says, more to herself than Lottie.

Lottie gives a little half-shrug, wrapping her arms around herself, “I dunno. Like, I feel like Jackie would’ve told us, y’know? It feels like a very her thing to tell everyone.”

“So we can all fawn over her?” Nat snarks, picking the easy fruit.

Lottie vehemently shakes her head and sends a harsh glare Nat’s way, “No, because she’s so honest. She doesn’t do secrets. When we were kids, she hated keeping them, she couldn’t keep her mouth shut because she said it made her insides feel itchy.”

“Freak,” Nat says, but her tone is nothing but affectionate.

Lottie reaches out and flicks her on the forehead, “The point being, she’s been weird the past few months. She disappeared over break, went to Florida or something.”

“She…didn’t,” Nat confesses, scuffing the tile with the toe of her shoe, “she told me she lied about it.”

“See! She’s lying now,” Lottie gestures with her hands, “she never did that before. She has this new apartment that Shauna said looks sketchy as hell, she doesn’t live with her parents, something happened, Natalie.”

“This is some conspiracy you’re spinning, Lot,” Nat grumbles, but still, the more Lottie brings up, the more puzzling the situation begins. 

“Am I wrong?” Lottie’s voice takes on a desperate tone, “Think of all the things we’ve learned the past month, and all the things she hasn’t said. Jackie loves to talk, it’s like, in her blood, and we barely know anything. She supposedly has a job now, since when did Jackie work?”

“Maybe she just wanted more cash,” Nat defends.

Lottie rolls her eyes, “Nat, the Taylors are loaded, Jackie would never have to lift a finger if she wanted to. She used to swipe her dad’s credit card like I do.”

Nat goes quiet, mulling everything over. As much as she hates to admit it, Lottie has a point. Jackie’s shitty car, her new job, her new tendency to be quiet in groups. Before Jackie wouldn’t shut up, it was like in her blood to yap. Now? Jackie seems almost like a shell of herself in public.

In private though? Nat’s seen glimpses of her old self. She remembers Jackie’s wide smile, her gentle hands in Nat’s hair, and the way she looked at Nat like this, their friendship, meant something. Like it wasn’t something temporary just because Shauna was currently out of the picture.

Hell, Jackie even held her hand and for a moment, for the smallest moment, Nat almost felt like-

“Nat?” Lottie brings her back to reality, “What do you think?”

“It sounds weird,” Nat concedes, “but we probably shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“Is it jumping to conclusions if we just swing by her apartment to make sure she’s alive?” Lottie bites her thumbnail.

“What? Yeah! Do you even know where she lives?”

“Uh, I could ask Shauna for an address.”

Nat glares at Lottie, and Lottie sheepishly meets her eyes, “I’m worried, okay? I have a bad feeling about all of this. I called her three times and nothing.”

Another silent stand-off. Concern is etched into Lottie’s expression, and her dark eyes are pleading and desperate. Nat can’t deny her anything when she looks so pathetic. Nat sighs, then nods her head.

“We can go after school, but we keep this quiet,” Nat tells her, “I don’t want to tell the others in case everything’s fine. Jackie would kill us.”

Lottie nods, though a half-smile appears on her face, “You’re worried about how Jackie will react, huh?”

“Fuck off,” Nat hisses as her ears grow warm, “I’ll meet you at your car.”

Lottie cackles, and as Nat leaves if she slams her shoulder a little roughly against Lottie’s, well, that’s her prerogative.

After school, Nat trudges to Lottie’s car. The whole thing’s a little insane, if you ask her, though she’s careful not to mention that word around Lottie. She knows how Lottie gets, and Lottie fuckin’ hates that word, so Nat makes sure to mind her words around her.

Lottie’s already there, tapping her fingers against her arm. When she spots Nat, she doesn’t even say anything, wordlessly getting into the car. Nat quickens her pace and hops into the passenger seat. Before she can even put her seatbelt on, Lottie’s already starting the car and beginning to pull out of the parking lot.

Nat swears under her breath as she puts her seatbelt on and then glances over, “Seatbelt.”

“‘S fine,” Lottie’s eyes are locked on the road, her hands in a white-knuckle grip around the steering wheel.

“Charlotte,” Nat warns.

Lottie huffs, but acquiesces, fumbling for the seatbelt and jabbing it into the buckle, “Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Nat says sarcastically.

Lottie rolls her eyes, and Nat would laugh if Lottie wasn’t driving erratically. Instead, she clutches the handle above her door, trying to center her body as Lottie takes a narrow turn.

“Lot, she’s fine,” Nat stresses, but Lottie’s worry is beginning to rub off on her.

It’s Jackie, Nat tells herself, she’s fine. She probably broke a nail or something. No, no that makes her sound stupid and vapid, she’s not stupid or vapid. She’s probably just sick. Or her phone died. Yeah. Yeah, that sounds normal, it’s nothing-

“We’re here,” Lottie jerks the car into a parking spot.

Nat remembers how to breathe as soon as the car’s off. Her fingers ache from her tight grip around the handle, and she flexes them as she looks out the window. Immediately, she recognizes the area, it’s only a few minutes away from the trailer park. And, it’s barely a step above.

The apartment building is decrepit and in need of a good power-washing, for one. The roof looks tattered, and there are bars on every window. Definitely not a place that Wiskayok Princess Jackie should be living in.

“Lot,” Nat murmurs.

A gentle hand rests on her back, “Yeah?”

“I don’t think Jackie’s parents are paying for this place,” Nat examines it again, swallowing, “it’s, like-, I live a few blocks away.”

“I know,” Lottie says morosely.

I have a bad feeling about all of this, Lottie’s voice rings in her head. Nat chews on her lip as she gets out of the car.

“Where’s her apartment?” Nat asks, shoving her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket.

“Second floor,” Lottie tells her, “Shauna doesn’t know the exact number. She just said it was the closest one to the parking lot.”

Nat nods, falling into step beside Lottie. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s willing to let Lottie take the reins here, it was her idea after all. Besides, she’s sure Jackie will be happier to see Lottie than her. They’re not close, Jackie said it herself, and even now, something about the comment digs between her ribs and aches.

They look up at the splitting staircase, one apartment on the left and one on the right. Lottie looks at her, then tilts her head to the right. They split, Lottie going left and Nat going right, and at the same time, they reach the apartments. In tandem, they both knock.

One door doesn’t open. The other does.

And Nat stares down into the wide-eyed face of Jackie Taylor, who’s dressing plainly in a sweatshirt and shorts. Jackie’s jaw drops open, her eyes flicking over Nat’s shoulder before re-centering on Nat’s face.

“Hey, Jack,” Nat’s voice is soft.

“What are you guys doing here? How do you even know where I live?” Jackie squeals.

Lottie appears behind Nat’s shoulder, “Shauna told us.”

“Of-fucking-course Shauna told you,” Jackie grumbles, frustration appearing in her eyes, “can’t keep anything private why did I-, never mind. Why are you here?”

“Charlotte was worried when you didn’t answer her calls,” Nat chirps.

Behind her, Nat can feel how Lottie tenses, and she regrets her words when Lottie starts speaking, profusely apologizing for intruding. Nat tunes her out as she examines Jackie’s face, bare of makeup, a rare sight. Her face is puffy, her eyes a little red, and like this, she looks so…fragile.

Now, Nat wouldn’t call Jackie someone who appeared tough, but she’d never looked so delicate. Jackie was always the type of girl who seemed untouchable, perfect in an almost godly way. She was always pristine from everything from her hair down to her nails.

Now? She seems so…human. Nat put her on a pedestal for so long, and now that Jackie’s been taken off, she looks so much younger. It makes Nat’s lungs tighten, and she clears her throat.

“Can we come in?” Nat asks, putting on her politest tone.

“I’d…rather you not,” Jackie glances behind her.

“We’re not gonna judge, Jack,” Lottie says, “but if you really don’t want us to-”

“Fuck it,” Jackie mumbles, “just-, don’t say anything.”

Nat mimes zipping her lips closed, and she guesses Lottie does the same thing from the tiny smile that appears on Jackie’s face. It’s unlike the other ones Nat has seen from her, much smaller, a little crooked, but it seems more genuine.

Have I ever seen her real smile? Nat racks her mind and can’t think of an instance, save for maybe when it was just the two of them.

Jacke steps out of the way, opening the door more and Nat steps over the threshold. She doesn’t take her shoes off, though she’s tempted to, as she examines the space. And it’s…small to say the least. Her trailer’s bigger. It’s bare of any decorations, nothing but furniture, and a nest of bedding on top of a mattress on the floor.

I was expecting more pink, Nat almost says, then remembers her promise. She remembers Jackie’s old room, the team had a sleepover at her house a few times, and how much more personable it was.

“There’s only one chair,” Jackie looks nervous, “but, uh, have at it.”

Nat offers it to Lottie, plopping down beside the chair. Lottie takes it, looming over the both of them as Jackie sits on the edge of her bed.

“I don’t have a ton of groceries right now,” Jackie’s face is pinched, “but I have water if you want?”

“We’re good,” Lottie answers for the both of them.

“Cool,” Jackie says.

The three fall into silence. Jackie scratches at her arm, absentmindedly, and her sleeve rolls up. It’s a quick thing, but Nat’s eyes flick down to see discoloration on her wrist. Immediately, Nat looks up at Lottie, who has a frown on her lips.

“Why weren’t you answering my texts?” Lottie asks.

“Jeez, you sound like a desperate ex,” Jackie tries to joke but it falls flat, “sorry. My phone died, and I haven’t had time to pick up a new charger.”

“You don’t have one?” Nat says.

Jackie turns around and when she turns back, there’s the most pathetic-looking coord in her hands, the top of it fraying. She holds it up and then places it back down, “Mine finally croaked on me.”

Nat offers her a smile, but Jackie doesn’t return it. She seems to grow even more nervous, tapping her fingers against her knee.

“Why weren’t you at school?” Nat rasps.

Jackie shrugs, averting her eyes, “I took a sick day, and wanted to be alone.”

Both Nat and Lottie wince, exchanging a look. Jackie keeps tapping her fingers against her knee, and Lottie places a hand on Nat’s shoulder.

“Jackie, I’m sorry for overreacting,” Lottie begins, “I know I invaded your privacy. Your…your behavior recently is just scaring me.”

“Why now?” Jackie’s voice cracks and she looks even more frustrated about that, “Why do you care now?”

“I’ve always cared,” Lottie argues, “we’ve always cared.”

Jackie shakes her head with a scoff, “You-, never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course, it matters,” Nat’s eyebrows scrunch together, “just talk to us.”

Jackie takes a shaky breath, her hands forming into fists before she exhales, “It’s not going to change anything.”

At the desolation in her voice, Nat has to tear her eyes away from Jackie. Jackie sounds exactly like Nat did, back when her father was still alive.

“Maybe it’ll make you feel less alone,” Lottie tries, gently, “we’re your friends, Jack. Let us be there for you.”

Silence. Nat taps Lottie on her hand, and the two exchange a look. Let me handle this, Nat says with her eyes and Lottie looks confused but squeezes her shoulder.

“We’ll leave you alone,” Nat promises, “just after one thing.”

Jackie looks up at her, questioning. Nat continues, “Show us your wrist.”

At that, Jackie tenses, like she’s about to bolt. Her eyes go a little wild, darting around the room, and Nat can only guess what she’s seeing. Hesitantly, Jackie pulls up the sleeve of her right wrist. Nothing. It’s not the right one, and Nat and Jackie both know it.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Nat says slowly, “we’re your friends.”

Jackie stares at her for a long moment, and Nat meets her eyes confidently. Let us in, she pleads, I know what it’s like to be alone. You don’t have to be.

Lottie’s grip on her shoulder tightens. Nat keeps her eyes on Jackie, as she slowly pulls up her left sleeve. It’s only a little bit, far less than her other sleeve, but even across the room, Nat can see the finger-shaped bruises on her wrist.

Lottie gasps, from beside her. Nat feels her breath catch in her throat. She thinks she might stop breathing for a second as Jackie trembles like she’s done something wrong.

“Who did this to you?” Lotite’s voice is quiet, and bordering on emotionless, but Nat can hear the anger she’s desperately trying to hide.

“No one,” Jackie says hurriedly, “I just ran into someone. It was an accident.”

“That’s not an accident, Jack,” Nat tells her, “who was it? I’ll fuck ‘em up.”

She can’t keep the venom out of her tone, even if she wanted to. She’s not like Lottie, she can’t just switch off her emotions like that. Jackie sucks air in through her teeth, then shakes her head.

“You can’t,” Jackie states.

“Why?” Nat has to ask.

At her words, Jackie’s facade breaks. She curls in on herself, shoulders slumping, and before Nat even knows it, she’s racing across the room, kneeling in front of Jackie. 

“I can’t even do anything to them,” Jackie’s voice is barely louder than a whisper.

“Oh, Jackie,” Nat’s hands are outstretched, reaching for Jackie, but she doesn’t close the distance. If Jackie wants to be touched right now, she needs to communicate it, Nat doesn’t want to cross a line.

“Can you tell your parents?” Lottie says, a little closer but keeping a careful distance.

Jackie just shakes her head, and then she’s leaning forward into Nat’s arms. Nat catches her, wrapping her arms around her and pulling her close. Slowly, Nat brings Jackie down onto the floor with her, and Jackie’s entire body starts to shake with these silent sobs.

Nat can feel saline drenching her shirt. She doesn’t give a fuck, cradling Jackie’s head and tucking it into her neck. One hand goes on the back of Jackie’s head, the other around her shoulders. Jackie clutches onto the back of her jacket, pathetic little shaky breaths leaving her mouth.

Lottie comes closer, hesitantly, she looks to Nat, who merely shakes her head, and Lottie backs off. She still sits down, close enough to touch if Jackie needs more support.

“I can,” Lottie stumbles on her words, “my dad can talk to your parents, like anonymously, if you want-”

“They-,” Jackie takes a deep breath, her expression hidden, “it won’t do anything. They won’t help me anymore.”

Lottie and Nat exchange a look. Quietly, Nat presses the issue, “Can you tell us why, Jack?”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Jackie’s grip tightens, “please, please, don’t tell anyone.”

“We won’t,” Nat promises, looking at Lottie and seeing the resolve in her eyes.

The room goes quiet again, save for the sounds of Jackie sniffling. Nat tightens her grip, rubbing her thumb on Jackie’s shoulder, trying to offer what comfort she can.

“They disowned me,” is all Jackie says.

Lottie flinches and Nat has to stop her body from doing the same. Nat’s mouth drops open, while Lottie’s tenses, nothing more than holy rage within her eyes. Lottie’s fists tighten at her sides, and she opens her mouth and then swiftly shuts it.

“I’m sorry,” Nat murmurs, “fuck, I’m so sorry, Jack.”

There’s nothing she can say to make this situation better. Nat’s never been good at comforting other people, she’s not good enough with words, and half the bullshit people complain about, she doesn’t really care. This though? She cares about it because it involves Jackie.

“Anything you need,” Lottie says, “anything we can help you with, we’re always here. Anything at all, okay? You call, and I’ll always pick up.”

Lottie approaches slowly, as Jackie raises her head up. Nat loosens her grip on her head, only minutely, and sees the fresh tear tracks on Jackie’s face. It makes her eyes hurt, like her body wants to cry too but her mind won’t let her.

Lottie reaches forward a hand, and Jackie looks at it, then up at her. There’s no fear in Jackie’s eyes, nothing but trust, and Lottie lays a hand on Jackie’s cheek. Jackie startles, it’s tiny but it’s there, and Lottie’s about to pull back when Jackie leans into it.

“Anything you need,” Lottie repeats, “okay? You’ve done a lot for us, let us do some nice things for you.”

“Lot, no, I-” Jackie starts.

Lottie shakes her head, “Remember when we were kids and I started seeing stuff? You were the only one who sat next to me when it happened. Everyone else looked at me like I was crazy. You never treated me any differently. You….you give so much of yourself to us, let us do something for you.”

You used to sneak me leftovers, Nat doesn't say. You'd leave a Tupperware in my locker. The meals I liked would repeat, the meals I didn't, I never saw again. You bought me new cleats when I joined the team. You've never called me Natalie, because you know how much I hate it. You've never been anything but nice to me, even when I make it hard.

Wordlessly, Jackie gives a small nod. Lottie’s smile is bright as she pulls away and gets to her feet. Nat’s still holding onto Jackie, and she’s about to pull away when Jackie moves closer. Nat’s not sure if she’s even aware of it, or if it’s something unconscious, but Nat’s not letting go of her, not now, not after everything Jackie’s told them.

“I’m going to get us dinner, and then I’ll be back,” Lottie tells them.

Gently, Lottie bends over and presses a kiss to the crown of Jackie’s head, and then Nat’s. It almost feels religious in a way, like they’re getting blessed, and Nat hates how her face flushes at the contact. Even worse, though, is the way it makes her feel like a kid again. It makes her feel like she's thirteen and hiding behind Lottie because Lottie always looked out for Nat. She always had a protective air about her.

Lottie leaves, the door shutting behind her. Jackie’s still in Nat’s arms, and Nat absentmindedly traces patterns on Jackie’s shoulder. This close, with Jackie’s head pressed to her, Nat’s sure she can hear her heartbeat. She can only hope it doesn’t give her away.

“You want to move?” Nat says.

Jackie shakes her head. Nat doesn’t press her, beginning to hum under her breath, the way her mother used to, long before things got bad. It was soothing, back then, she can only hope it’s soothing for Jackie now.

“Hey, Nat?” Jackie mumbles.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

The words come out a little harsher than she intends, with too much regret in her tone. But Nat stands by her words, Jackie shouldn’t be thanking her. Hell, Nat should’ve been able to see past the facade earlier. Maybe Jackie wouldn’t have had to be on her own for so long.

She knows what it’s like, to scrape together money to eat, to live off of canned goods and frozen food. Nat grew up that way, she can only imagine how big of a change it is for Jackie. All Nat can do to reassure herself is that she’ll be better moving forward.

“Still,” Jackie says after a moment, “I appreciate you.”

Nat’s movements freeze, unused to such genuine gratitude, before she continues her patterns. Jackie’s breath is warm against her skin, and Nat hates how much she enjoys it. It’s not that she’s embarrassed, that’s not it, it’s more that she’s ashamed of finding joy in a moment when Jackie’s at such an emotional low. It doesn’t feel fair.

“I got your licorice, bee-tee-double-u,” Jackie says, sounding out the slang in a way that should make Nat grimace but it only makes her smile.

“The red kind?” Nat can’t help but ask.

“‘Course.”

Nat smiles down at her, even though she knows Jackie can’t see her. And hey, if her lips brush Jackie’s temple, in an almost kiss, Nat will never admit it to a soul. And if Jackie only cuddles closer after all of that? Well, that’s their business.