Chapter Text
It’s three in the morning when Caitlyn gets the phone call. It’s one of her friends saying she’s got tickets to a concert; a local band that Caitlyn does not recognize. It’s a small venue, and two of Caitlyn’s friends are on the other end begging for her to loosen up for once. Caitlyn says yes, just so she can go back to sleep.
Whether it’s separate songs or separate choruses, the music flicks between two of five things: angry, sad, romantic, loud, and quiet. Is it up Caitlyn’s alley at all? No. She likes music slower and softer, save for the occasional 2000s pop or rock song she’s thrown into her playlist. But she knows how to enjoy music nonetheless, and she knows not to complain about the concert her friends got her a free ticket for.
The singer looked like a teenage girl, in fraying black shorts and an old ratty t-shirt. Her hair was blue, with twin braids down to her ankles. Caitlyn hates her shoulder-length hair enough — she imagines that monstrosity must be a nightmare. The drummer was a man (therefore not her type) with dark skin, white face-paint, and white hair. His outfit was hidden by his drum set. But, hey, the guitarist was cute. Despite her bad eyesight and without her glasses, Caitlyn was able to recognize that, at the very least. She had short, hot pink hair all in her face, arms of steel, gorgeous tattoos, and some very nice black jeans paired with a tank top.
About fifteen minutes after leaving the venue, Caitlyn splits off from her friends to stop by a gas station on her way back to the dorms. She’s in the middle of multitasking; holding onto her phone and a bag of chips at the same time, while walking, and trying to discreetly listen to the video her mother sent her five hours ago.
Her goals are:
1. Find shitty food she can eat, just so she doesn’t starve.
2. Grab a box of seltzers for Jayce. They’re supposed to be having a get together next weekend, and if all goes according to plan, Viktor is bringing his Wii that has to be as old as the dinosaurs, and they’re going to play Wii games.
3. Hurry the fuck up so she can get back to the dorms and crash.
Her goals are not to run all into a random girl standing between the popcorn and the cooler of energy drinks.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry. Are you alright?” Caitlyn asks, clicking her phone off and shoving it into her pocket haphazardly. She drops the bag of chips, quickly kneeling down to pick it back up.
The woman chuckles and blinks at her like she has three heads. And instead of doing what Caitlyn expects — which is grabbing her by the arm and taking her up to the cashier so he can shoot her in the head — she says in a kind tone, “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine. You alright?”
Caitlyn nods, before slipping past the girl so she can get over to the alcohol section. “Yes, yes. Again, I’m so sorry.”
And she expects to get on with her night just mildly embarrassed. But once she’s kneeling in front of the open cooler, remembering the specific brand Jayce asked for and reaching for it, there’s a gentle tap on her shoulder.
”Uh, excuse me. I hate to bother you, but you seem familiar. Have we met before?”
When Caitlyn glances over her shoulder, she finds it’s the same girl. She stands up, hand on the handle of the glass door, and she has to look this woman over just to make sure she actually has no clue who this was. She’s got on blue sweatpants, an old tank top, and a leather jacket that doesn’t at all match the rest of her outfit. Her hair is bright pink and partially, messily slicked back. She’s rather attractive, Caitlyn will say that, but she also looks like she just crawled out of bed.
”Um, I don’t think so. Sorry,” Caitlyn replies, her brows slightly furrowed.
The girl hums, glancing over Caitlyn for a few seconds longer. See, she could be mistaking Caitlyn for someone else, but she remembers this specific outfit. The black turtleneck and the black cargo pants, the deep blue hair in a ponytail. Suddenly, she snaps her fingers, and Caitlyn blinks. “Were you at the concert earlier?”
”Oh. Yes, I was. Were you?” Caitlyn asks. The girl gives her an odd look, like it was meant to be obvious.
”Yeah. Front row, right?” she asks, and Caitlyn nods. “I saw you. Did you like the band?”
”Uh…,” Caitlyn starts, brushing her palms together in a fidgety manner, “my friends dragged me to the concert. It wasn’t bad music, but… not the sort of music I’m usually into. You know?”
“Yeah. Yeah,” she says, the latter sounding more confident than the former. The girl reaches down to grab the box of seltzers she saw Caitlyn eyeing, handing it over to her. She lifts it a lot easier than Caitlyn can, that’s for sure. “You throwing a party, or something?”
Caitlyn hums. ”Something like that. Me and my friends are getting together for a… game night, I guess.”
”You’re walking home alone at this hour?” she says, and Caitlyn chuckles a little, because she can’t tell if this woman is trying to hit on her, or trying to kill her.
”I do it all the time,” Caitlyn says, partially nervously. She has a choice here — the girl is rather attractive. So she could either A; shut down an attractive girl, or B; let the attractive girl walk her back to the dorms. Does she want to risk getting chloroformed on the off-chance she might get to know this woman? “It’s not a far walk. You could join me… if you’d like.”
She merely shrugs. “Why the hell not?”
Good lord. Caitlyn doesn’t even know this girl’s name, and she’s letting her walk her home. Caitlyn’s going to get herself killed one of these days. Can she use the fact that it’s all in the name of love as an excuse?
Caitlyn spends five more minutes searching for something to pair with a bag of chips, eventually landing on a pop-tart, a pack of gum, and a soda.
“ID, please,” the cashier says. His voice is too unenthusiastic to be saying please. Caitlyn forks it over anyway. “I’ll need hers, too.”
“Oh. Right.” The other girl fishes her ID out, and the cashier checks them both for all of half a second before handing them back over. Caitlyn finds and hands him her debit card, slipping her ID back into its respective position in her wallet. And inevitably, the other girl has to lug around the box of alcohol, because she’s recognized that Caitlyn is pitiful and sad and weak. Or at the very least, that her arms are tired.
The door dings when they exit. The girl doesn’t look at Caitlyn when she speaks, rather looking out at the street. “…Caitlyn Kiramman.”
Caitlyn is actively struggling to slip her wallet back into her back velcro pocket. She presses the velcro together, but not before giving the other girl an odd look.
”It was— on your ID. I’m not a creep,” she chuckles poorly, holding up a hand.
“…As long as you don’t steal my identity,” Caitlyn replies, starting to walk from the gas station to the dorms. The other girl does a mild jog to catch up with her, before merely walking beside her.
”Oh, but that was exactly the thing I was planning on doing.”
”Ah, well, there’s a dent in your plans. You have my permission, if you tell me your name,” Caitlyn says with a shrug.
”Smooth.”
”I know.”
”It’s Vi,” she — Vi says.
”Mmm. Nice to meet you, Vi no-last-name,” Caitlyn responds, nodding, pretending to take in the name.
”Lanes, smartass.” Vi rolls her eyes, Caitlyn chuckles quietly. “Violet, if you want my full government name.”
”To be fair, Violet Lanes, you know mine,” Caitlyn murmurs, and Vi hums.
”That I do, Caitlyn Kiramman.”
…
”Where are we going, exactly? Apartment, house…?” Vi asks, glancing up at Caitlyn for a second.
“You’re not a serial murderer, are you?”
Vi hums thoughtfully, like she’s mulling the idea over. “Not that I know of, no.”
”Then I suppose there’s no issue,” she decides. “The college a couple blocks away. I stay at the dorms.”
“Oh. So, you’re a smart one,” Vi concludes, shrugging as she speaks.
Caitlyn gives a small chuckle. “Are you overtly flirtatious with every girl you stumble upon at gas stations, or am I just lucky?”
”Only the pretty ones.”
”So I’m not the only one.” Caitlyn feigns disappointment.
”If it makes you feel any better,” Vi says, “you’re the first one I’ve walked home.”
”Oh, well, then I’m flattered,” Caitlyn says sarcastically.
”Plenty of gas station girls would kill to be in your place, you know. You should be more grateful.” Vi tuts, shaking her head like a displeased mother.
”I’m very grateful,” Caitlyn nods, pretending to work on convincing herself of what she’s saying. “I’m pleased to know I’m one of many girls that has fallen for the beautiful face, and ended up in the trap of a woman with such a large ego.”
“Ooohh. You think I’m beautiful?”
”Would you be walking me home if you weren’t?”
“Huh,” Vi murmurs, cocking her head just slightly, as if she hadn’t even considered that. “You know what? You make a fair point.”
…
”…This is my stop,” Caitlyn says, coming to a halt in front of the tall, brick building in front of them. The walk back to the dormitory had passed so quick — and quite frankly, Caitlyn doesn’t really want to leave, just yet. This girl is idiotically flirty, and gorgeous, and playfully egotistical. And Caitlyn has fallen for it entirely.
Vi glances around for a few seconds, taking in the sight of the area. Then she hums. Before Vi speaks up and starts leaving, Caitlyn has to say something first. “Would you— want to get coffee tomorrow? I usually, uh, head to a place down,” she points off behind Vi, “there after classes to study.”
Vi blinks, because the dashing, tall, British woman she met not even an hour ago wants to meet up again. It does not take long for her to nod. “Absolutely. I could give you my number?”
”Yes. Yeah, I’ll… Do you want me to put mine in?” Caitlyn asks. Vi murmurs a ‘yeah’, pulling her phone out and unlocking it to hand it open on the contacts to Caitlyn. Caitlyn types in her name and number, and hands it back to Vi.
Vi stares over the contact for about two seconds, then she shoves her phone into her pocket as she speaks, “Well, Caitlyn Kiramman. See you tomorrow?”
Vi holds her hand out for Caitlyn to shake, and Caitlyn does. Vi’s hand is rough compared to Caitlyn’s, and if she felt like coming off as a creep, she’d hold it and examine the details. Like the callouses she feels when Vi pulls away. But maybe she should save that for when they’re actually on a date. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
*
”I have a crush.”
”What?”
Caitlyn groans into her pillow, feeling like she’s fifteen again and in agony about her first crush. “I have a crush, and it’s absolutely horrible. Jayce, you have to kill me.”
”What happened between last night and yesterday for you to revert back to high school terms?” Jayce asks, and Caitlyn can feel the way his brows furrow and his eyes stare into the back of her head. And he’s reasonably confused, because they’ve been sitting in Caitlyn’s dorm, studying in silence for the last fifteen minutes. This wasn’t what Jayce thought Caitlyn would break the silence with. “Last time I checked, you weren’t even looking for anyone.”
“I know. But I met a super cute girl at the gas station last night, in a really cliché way. And she’s blowing me off, even though we were supposed to meet today.”
”Maybe she’s busy,” Jayce offers, and Caitlyn sighs, “did you consider that?”
”Yes, I considered it. I also considered all other possibilities, like I freaked her out in some way, or she hated my outfit, or demeanor, or—or she got in a life-threatening accident.” Caitlyn throws her hands over her face.
”But here’s the thing,” she starts, sitting up in bed — Jayce turns in his chair to face her entirely, because he knows he needs to prepare, “I think she’s genuinely just busy. What am I going to do with a girl who’s genuinely busy? I don’t have a life outside school work!”
“I don’t get why you think I’m the person to help with this,” Jayce says.
”What did you do with Viktor?” Caitlyn asks, disregarding his previous comment entirely.
“Cait, I didn’t even know he liked me until he said it outright. I am not the right person to have ‘girl-talk’ with,” he says. “Not just because I can’t read a room, but because I’m not a girl.”
”She walked me home, Jayce,” Caitlyn continues on. “Do you know how sweet that is?”
”Have you tried calling her?” …And Caitlyn says nothing.
”No,” Caitlyn says, and Jayce tilts his head at her, “but only because… I was worried she might actually be busy. Do you know how aggravated I would be if someone called me while I was studying, or trying to focus on anything?”
”…Okay. Why don’t you try calling her?”
…
Well, Caitlyn felt like getting fresh air, anyway. She took herself outside the dormitory, her phone idle and open on Vi’s contact the entire walk down. They had texted a bit last night — about their plans and about each other, and nothing seemed too off then. So, maybe Vi hadn’t changed her mind about the random stranger she walked home at nearly midnight. Before Caitlyn changes her mind and heads down to the coffee shop for the second time today (only this time, for mere coffee and not to wait for a beautiful woman to show up), she clicks the call button.
…
It rings, and rings, and rings, and by the fourth one, Caitlyn stops counting. It heads to voicemail, and she doesn’t really feel like embarrassing herself by sending one or calling several more times, so she sighs and hangs up. Inevitably, she heads back up to her dorm to continue studying with Jayce.
*
Caitlyn doesn’t like the habit her friends have of waking her at ungodly hours with a phone call. But Caitlyn would rather answer than have the ringing wake her dorm-mate, Mel. She huffs, grabbing her glasses off her nightstand and shoving them on, then her loud ass phone. At first, she thinks it’s Viktor. Sometimes he asks her for notes, or if they have plans (like they do next weekend), he’ll call the figure some things out. And the guy doesn’t really have any sense of time, nor does Caitlyn really understand why Viktor is calling her instead of consulting with his dorm-mate, Jayce.
…As it turns out, it’s not Viktor.
”Hi. Hello,” Caitlyn says, as soon as she brings the phone to her ear. Her voice is whispered, because it’s the middle of the night.
”Hey,” Vi replies. She sounds far less tired than Caitlyn does. Caitlyn hears two people in the background on Vi’s end. A girl, and a guy. “Did I wake you up?”
”…No. Yes. It’s alright. Why are you calling?” Caitlyn asks, sitting up and nudging her glasses out of the way so she can rub her eyes. She situates them back to read the digital clock on the desk. It’s one in the morning.
”I, uh,” and Vi sounds mildly timorous, “wanted to apologize. For standing you up.”
”…Oh.”
”Yeah. I had a— I had a thing, and I couldn’t miss it, and I didn’t have any time to let you know.” Vi chuckles nervously.
”No, it’s alright. I understand,” Caitlyn reassures. “…Are you… free tomorrow?”
”Yes, yeah. Definitely.”
”…And you’re sure?” Caitlyn teases.
”I’m sure,” Vi responds. Caitlyn can hear the small smile in her voice.
”Okay.”