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Age 15 is a big event in every girl’s life. Traumatic, scarring, tumultuous and frightening. It’s something they all go through, no matter what. No one can escape the awkwardness of growing into a body you still don’t recognize as your own, the pimples, the hair that wasn’t there before, and if you were so lucky to avoid it for the past three years, periods.
But there’s also a good side to it.
Lottie just hasn’t found out what it is yet.
—
Lottie fastens her shin guards and keeps her eyes glued to the floor. Around her, her teammates since she was eleven are changing, getting ready for practice, and Lottie feels oddly uncomfortable lifting her eyes to look around.
Not look around, but like, not looking at the ground. But not looking anywhere in particular. You get it.
So instead, she focuses on hearing what’s happening around her. She hears the rustling of clothes, the spray deodorant, and the latest gossip about who made out with who at last friday’s party. All of that is interrupted by a loud, high shriek.
Nothing could erase the big smile that’s taking up 80% of Jackie’s face, and her blushing cheeks probably have nothing to do with all the eyes that are suddenly on her. Shauna looks embarrassed enough for them both, though, and she blushes twice as hard and grabs Jackie by the arm to drag her behind another row of lockers.
They end up right behind Lottie’s, and as she puts away her regular clothes she can hear, muffled through the metal, “Jeff” and “date” and “first base”.
Lottie smiles faintly, happy for Jackie. It’s nice that Jeff invited Jackie to his baseball game, and Lottie doesn’t know a lot about that sport, but she guesses he dedicated a first base to Jackie like Mia Hamm dedicates goals to whoever is in the stands. But the next words she hears are “tall”, “biceps” and “beard” and a different voice says “you can’t call that a beard” aaaand that’s how Lottie loses whatever endearment she was feeling. She doesn't see the appeal, but if Jackie is happy…
Nat stumbles through the door, very late and wearing one cleat and one converse. She gets a few judging looks as some of the girls walk out towards the field, and she marches towards Lottie.
Well, not towards her , towards her locker, which happens to be next to Lottie’s. That’s all.
“Hey, Lot.” Nat dives into her locker, rummaging through dirty clothes, empty wraps of snacks and a few empty water bottles.
“Hi.” Lottie can’t help the smile that breaks on her face, probably taking up 80% of her face. “Had a good nap?” Nat’s eyes widen, like she didn’t expect Lottie to guess the reason for her tardiness. Lottie chuckles and points at her own face, and when Nat checks herself in the mirror, surely enough she finds a faint mark across her cheek of what is undoubtedly the front of her backpack, zipper and all.
Nat laughs and her face goes red again. She touches her hair, meaning to tie it, but looks around for a hair tie. Lottie is quick to take one from her wrist and hand it off to Nat.
“Thanks Lot”.
Lottie allows herself to stare at Nat for a minute. Nat’s hair is pitch black, it falls just below her shoulders, and looks so very soft. Uh, Lottie should find out what shampoo Nat’s using, yeah. And her dark hair makes her pale, soft—soft?!— pale, clear skin stand out more. Makes her full, round, slightly reddened cheeks even more noticeable. When Nat ties her hair up, she uncovers her neck and shows the few birthmarks scattered around her shoulder.
Jackie and Shauna emerge from the back of the locker room, startling Lottie who had forgotten they were still there. Jackie looks as happy as she did moments ago, and she skips towards the field.
“What’s up with her?” Nat scrunches her nose. They walk outside together, and Lottie is, not for the first nor the last time in that day alone, awfully self conscious of how much taller she is compared to everyone else.
(Although to be fair, maybe Natalie isn’t the best person to compare herself to, seeing as even Misty Quigley came back from summer break a whole inch taller.)
“Apparently Jeff Sadecki has a beard.”
Nat tilts her head in confusion. “And that’s good because…?”
Lottie shrugs.
—
Jackie’s birthday party might just be the biggest event of the year. Everyone talks about it in the hallways, in class, in the locker room, and everyone who isn’t on the team or in Jackie's close circle wishes to get an invite.
Lottie has to admit, it lives up to the expectations. The backyard is packed with teens, some from Wiskayok High and some others Lottie doesn’t recognize.
Despite being at Jackie's party, she hasn’t seen her much. And with Shauna sulking alone in the kitchen, she can put two and two together and guess that Jackie must be somewhere off with Jeff.
Lottie approaches Shauna and nudges her with her shoulder.
“Where’s the birthday girl?”
“What should I know?” Shauna bites, although she seems to regret it right away. “Probably in her room or something. Jeff spilled vodka all over himself and Jackie insisted on him using the nice bathroom upstairs to clean up.”
So much for someone who wouldn’t know shit.
Lottie grabs a can of beer, although she doesn’t quite like the tangy taste yet (everyone keeps saying she’ll grow to like it, just like with coffee). She grabs one for Shauna, offers it to her like it’s any consolation. “Come on, I think the girls wanted to play truth or dare.”
Lottie drags Shauna to the backyard, and sure enough the Yellowjackets are gathered on a picnic table. They get roped into the game immediately, although after the first question she hears, Lottie feels like fleeing.
“So, Melissa,” Van smirks and rubs her hands together like an evil fly. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.” She answers, bracing herself.
“Who was your first kiss?”
If embarrassment was a person, it would be a blonde girl with a pink backwards hat. Melissa opens and closes her mouth, babbling something that isn’t an answer. Gen nudges her and gets her to spit it out.
“Uh, no— I haven’t, um, I’ve never kissed anyone. Yet. Not yet.”
The girls giggle and tease Melissa.
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Lottie mumbles, mostly to herself and kind of confused, but loud enough for the rest of them to hear.
“What’s that, Lot?” Van teases, happy to have a new target.
Melissa saves her, although she dooms herself further in the process. “Because I didn’t want to! Not for any other reason.” Melissa’s shoulders are up to her ears, arms crossed over her chest. Lottie just laughs it off, shakes her head, and somehow manages to avoid any further questioning.
The game goes on: Melissa dares Mari to do a handstand (she eats a mouthful of grass), Mari dares Gen to jump in the pool (she doesn't), and Lottie makes the mistake of choosing truth, because then Gen asks her who she thinks is the hottest guy in school.
Lottie blanks.
She can’t think of any guy from school, let alone the hottest.
Ok Lottie, think. It can’t possibly be this hard.
Everyone else looks at her expectantly. Some crack jokes, some give their own input, and others nudge her as if that would get the answer out of her.
What guys does she know? Does Coach Ben count as a guy? A hot one? That’s so inappropriate. Jeff is off bounds for more reasons than dating Jackie, Randy smells like wet dirty clothes left in a pile for weeks, Kevyn is alright but Gen had a date with him some time ago so that’s a no, Johnny… something? There must be a Johnny, right?
“Uh, Flex?”
Silence.
Then everyone bursts out laughing.
“Seriously?” Tai scoffs, and Van can’t breathe from laughing. Even Shauna looks at her like she grew a second head.
“What’s wrong with him?” Lottie shrugs, genuinely asking.
“I wouldn’t get near him even if he was the only guy around on a hundred mile ratio.” Mari snorts and Gen nods along.
“You can’t be serious,” Tai insists.
Think, Lottie, think.
“It’s just that the— guy I like is, uh, he’s— the guy I like is a family friend.” What? “So I can’t choose him because he’s not from this school.”
Is that the best you could come up with?
“Huh?”
“WHO IS IT?”
“You never told us!”
Lottie mumbles something about a senior who lives in Canada named Mark, and it’s good enough for her friends to leave her alone and move along onto the next victim.
—
Lottie sits at the library, math textbook in front of her, unopened. As in still sealed in the plastic it came in. Lottie taps a glitter pen against it, face resting on one hand as she scans the room.
She makes an effort to look at the guys. To try and understand whatever it is the other girls see when they look.
Bobby has a patchy beard that looks unsanitary. Charlie is quiet, which is good, but also Lottie doesn't think they could have a single thing in common. Will has a nice smile, she guesses, but also eyes that look everywhere but at her face whenever he walks by. Every other guy seems stuck in the process of puberty, still short, with cracking voices and ridiculous facial hair. What was it that Jackie liked about Jeff? Biceps? Blue eyes? Soft hair?
She wonders who Nat thinks is the hottest—
Taissa sits down on the seat opposite to hers and Lottie blinks her eyes back into focus.
“Who do you think is the hottest guy in school?”
A beat.
Taissa’s eyes are unreadable.
“Why, did Flex do something to make you stop liking him?”
“Come on.” Lottie pleads, rolling her eyes. She’s not gonna live that down at least until the next party when someone else does something more worthy of being made fun of.
“Why are you so hung up on that? It’s been days.”
“I’m just wondering… I guess I never paid attention to the guys at this school.”
Taissa’s eyes flicker upwards. “Because you like Mike too much?”
“Mark…”
“Right.” Taissa sighs and opens her book. She only spares Lottie one more glance before softly saying “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Lottie taps her foot impatiently.
“But there must be someone you like, right? Or like something to like, I don’t know, their hair?”
Lottie gulps. Taissa arches an eyebrow.
“Sure, hair is good. Also like, smiles? Hands?”
“Hands…”
“Look Lot, I’m sorry we laughed at you. It’s okay if you like Flex, or whoever. You don’t need to explain yourself.”
“I don’t like him.” Lottie scrunches her nose, but kind of feels bad about it. “I don’t.”
But why doesn't Lottie like him? Or any of the other guys she’s been looking at? Her reasoning, despite being true, doesn't seem good enough. Everyone else looks past it, so why can’t she?
“I would’ve said Coach Scott.” Taissa smirks.
Lottie laughs so loud a few people shush her. “That’s so inappropriate.”
They share a smile, and a soft look, and drop the subject.
—
After practice, Lottie slugs around the locker room. Most of the girls have already left, but Lottie mindlessly combs her wet hair, staring into the distance. She’s been distracted lately, and way more observant.
She doesn't mean to be rude by staring, it’s purely for investigation purposes. She stares at the way girls and boys flirt in the hallway, pays close attention to notes passed around in class where fingers touch and linger, she even goes to study the mating rituals masked as sports games, where guys and girls alike will try to show off as much as they can. Lottie doesn't understand what the fuss is all about, but she comes out finding girl’s volleyball to be pretty interesting.
A pair of folded socks collide against the back of her head. She turns around to find Nat leaning against the door, duffel bag hanging from her shoulder.
“I’m pretty sure if we don’t leave now the school is gonna close. And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not spend Friday night locked in here.”
As they walk out of the locker room, Lottie takes discreet glances at Nat. She rolled the sleeves of her shirt up to her shoulders, and even though her arms are skinny, her biceps look pretty toned. Thank you, soccer training.
“Do you want a ride?” Lottie sits down on the curb outside of the school. “My Dad’s driver should be here in like… ten minutes.”
“Nah, it’s ok. Thanks though.” Nat stays standing next to Lottie, one foot on the curb as she rummages through her bag. It’s dark already, the last rays of sunshine hiding behind the horizon, with only the faint street lamps to keep them from total darkness.
“Is something up?” Nat asks, like she’s been mulling over whether or not to ask the question. It takes Lottie by surprise.
“No, why?”
“You’ve been distracted.” Nat shrugs. She fishes a cigarette from her bag and places it between her lips, lets it hang there as she fishes for her lighter.
Lottie’s lips part. Nat’s lips look really soft. And looking at her from below, Nat’s legs look kilometrical, even though Lottie knows her own legs are probably twice as long. The fleeting thought crosses her mind that puberty seems to work faster on girls, or maybe just on Nat. Nothing about her seems awkward, or like a process stuck in the middle.
“Have you ever kissed someone?” Lottie blurts out, and she blushes because that was not supposed to slip from her mind.
Nat chuckles, but she looks uncertain. “Why? Is there some new gossip going around?”
“No! None, not that I’ve heard of, no.”
Nat lights her cigarette. Lottie stares.
“It’s just, the girls were talking about it, about kissing, at Jackie’s party.”
“And?”
“I don’t know, I guess I got curious.”
Nat nods, puffing out the air. Lottie stares at Nat’s fingers, fiddling with the cigarette. “Well, have you?”
They stare at each other, like daring the other to say something first. Something twists in Lottie’s stomach.
“I haven’t.” Lottie’s eyes dart to Nat’s lips. She’s actually not sure if she’s ever stopped looking. “I never thought much about it before. But everyone seems to be obsessed with it lately.”
Nat rolls her eyes as she sits down next to her. “Jackie won’t shut the fuck up about Jeff.”
“I think he invited her to his baseball game.”
“Jeff doesn’t play baseball.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he plays basketball.”
“Huh…”
Nat sits criss crossed, and Lottie doesn’t stare, no matter what anyone tries to say. She doesn’t. Not at Nat’s athletic legs or her hand resting over her calf holding the cigarette.
“Do you smoke? Do you wanna try?”
Obviously Nat follows Lottie’s eyes and assumes that’s where her interest is.
Because it is.
“Sure.” Lottie smiles nervously, takes it clumsily between her fingers.
“Don’t tell the girls about this, or they will think I’m a bad influence more than they already do.” Nat chuckles, although there’s honest worry in her words.
“I won’t.”
Lottie imitates Nat, and inhales, but nothing happens. She tries again, and nothing.
“You have to relax,” Nat laughs. She places her hand on Lottie’s stomach, doing everything but helping her relax. Lottie gets goosebumps and a chill goes through her body.
“Here, let's try this.” Nat scoots closer and their legs touch. Bare legs. Touching. And Nat gets so close Lottie can smell the locker room soap and she can see Nat’s blue eyes without her usual makeup. Nat flicks her lighter and Lottie inhales while she keeps the tip of the cigarette burning. It works, but she chokes on the smoke. Lottie coughs and hands Nat the cigarette, offended. Nat laughs and takes it straight back to her mouth.
“That’s disgusting… why do you do it?”
Nat shrugs, smiling. Once Lottie manages to stop coughing, she looks at Nat apologetically. “Sorry, I think I slobbered all over it.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
—
Next Friday night finds Lottie at yet another party. She wants to avoid all party games that involve talking— beer pong is fine, and so is anything where she only has to drink.
Only half of her wish comes true: She won’t exactly have to talk, because thanks to Mari’s bright idea she now sits on the floor at Taissa’s house, surrounded not only by her beloved teammates, but also by a bunch of boys she doesn’t know, about to play spin the bottle. Even Jackie is in the circle, and she dragged Shauna along.
(Apparently, Jackie and Jeff had a fight, although they weren’t an official thing, so it doesn’t count. But it was still a fight. Apparently, Jeff hurried to second base— did they lose the game? Are there bases on basketball? Did Jackie care that much about winning? Lottie doesn't care enough to ask).
Jackie goes first, and it takes a few spins before it lands on a guy (it lands on Shauna first, and everyone laughs except for her. Then it lands on Melissa, and everyone laughs even louder).
Lottie doesn't know the guy, but he’s wearing a letterman jacket and has a square jaw. After her investigation, she can confidently say he would be considered a handsome guy, just by those two requirements alone. Jackie seems to think so too. The kiss isn’t more than a peck, but it still gets “woos” from the round.
It seems so casual, like kissing someone isn’t a big deal at all, like it’s not important. Maybe Lottie should just play along and kiss whoever it lands on to get it over with.
But she doesn't really want to. Not so much because of the novelty of first kisses, but because she truly, honestly, matter of factly, gets grossed out at the thought of kissing any of the guys in the circle.
Her salvation comes in the form of curly blonde hair and thick round glasses. No idea who invited Misty Quigley, but Lottie sure is thankful for it.
“Hi girls!” Misty waves enthusiastically. For someone who gets made fun of so often, she sure is confident despite it. “Do you have space for one more?”
“Sorry, but we’re kinda complete.” One of the guys says. Lottie shoots him a look.
“Yeah, we’re already seven girls and seven boys so—”
“She can have my spot.” Lottie springs to her feet. “You can have it.”
Jackie wants to protest, but Misty is already sat and Lottie is already putting her long legs to good use and bolting away.
Misty will appreciate the game more.
Lottie wanders around the house for a bit, looking for a quiet place. She heads to the porch, and accidentally pushes a girl with the door.
Nat frowns until she sees it’s Lottie.
“Hi.” Nat smiles, speaking through the cigarette in her mouth.
The boots, the plaid skirt, the leather jacket.
The freshly bleached hair.
Nat looks drop dead gorgeous and Lottie is frozen in place. She must stay silent for too long, because Nat self-consciously touches her hair and avoids Lottie’s eyes.
“I know it’s a little burnt but—”
“You look beautiful.”
She won't even bother stuttering or watering the compliment down. Nat looks breathtaking.
“Thanks.” A bit of uncomfortable silence stretches between them while Lottie gapes and Nat blushes. “Is, uh, are the rest of the girls in there?”
“Oh, yeah, they’re playing spin the bottle. Even Misty joined in.”
“She always wants to play that game.” Nat chuckles.
They sit together on the curb and Nat offers Lottie her cigarette, but she shakes her head and laughs. Nat plays with her own hair and Lottie reaches out to twirl a strand of hair in her finger.
“Nat, you’re seriously like, the coolest girl ever.”
“It’s just some bleach…” Nat chuckles, still looking away.
“No, I mean it.”
Nat whistles, “You’re not so bad yourself, Matthews. I know many people would kill to be sitting here with you, sharing a soggy cigarette.”
Lottie nudges Nat’s shoulder. “Hey, you said that didn't matter.”
“I’m just fucking with you.”
Lottie plays with her untied shoelaces. “Do you really think people would want to be here? Like, spend time with me?”
“Are you kidding? You’re like, one of the most sought after girls in school.”
Lottie frowns, confused. “But no one ever approaches me.”
Nat laughs and butts her cigarette on the floor. “You’re intimidating, Lot. I’ve seen the look you give all of the guys that even dare to breathe near you.”
Lottie rolls her eyes. She crosses her arms over her knees and rests her chin there. Nat stretches her legs and taps her foot along to the faint sound of the music.
“Is that why you left?”
“Hm?”
“Why you didn't play the game. Did you think none of the guys would want to kiss you?”
That was never something that occurred to Lottie. She really didn't care whether guys found her pretty or not.
“No, it’s not that. I just… I don’t know, I never thought much about my first kiss, but now that I do I want it to be something… I don’t know if special is the word, I don’t think I care that much. But just, something nicer. Not with someone I don’t know, or don’t care about.”
“What about Flex?”
Lottie deadpans and Nat laughs hard, slapping her own leg.
“Who told you about that?”
“The girls were kind of talking about it at practice. Sorry, Lot.”
“I’m serious, though. Now that I’ve been thinking about it it does seem like a big deal.” Lottie shifts and sits facing Nat. “Who was your first kiss?”
Nat shrugs and, after a beat, turns to face Lottie too. However, she stays silent.
“Sorry, I know I’ve asked before. It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”
“How important is it?”
“Huh? No, it’s not important, I don’t care that much about who you kissed.”
“No, I mean, your first kiss. On a scale of Jackie to Van, how important is it?”
Lottie smiles. “Maybe a Gen?”
Nat nods, pondering something, she fidgets with the lighter in her hand and then—
The music stops, a car passes by and lifts a few leaves from the ground. It blows Nat’s hair, makes her flutter her eyelashes as she leans forward, and kisses Lottie just as a new song begins to play.
It’s chaste, it’s a peck, it lights a fire in Lottie’s chest. Feels like nothing she could’ve ever imagined, and she knows that whatever the rest of the girls obsess about, whatever it is they find in boys, it’s not half as good as Natalie Scatorccio.
It lasts a few seconds that Lottie wishes would turn into eternity. Nat tastes slightly of tobacco and alcohol, and as Lottie licks her lips she tastes her own cherry lip gloss.
“There,” Nat blushes deeply, tries to play nonchalant by lighting another cigarette, but the tremble in her hands gives her away. “Now we both had our first kiss.”
Lottie’s fingers ghost against her lips. When her hand comes down, she softly places it atop Nat’s, resting on the curb.
“Thanks.”
They look forward, too shy and too hot-faced to look at each other.
“I think I begin to understand now.”