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It starts in the early days of fall, the days when, despite the promise of crisp wind and mild chills in the near future, summer's heavy, smothering heat still lingers. They're just a few weeks into their senior year, and Lottie feels like she might be dying. Her meds just got switched and this new combination is giving her some of the worst side effects she's had in years. Her head throbs, her skin is clammy, and she tosses and turns at night, unable to sleep, because her stomach is roiling. On Monday, when she heads back to school, she picks at her food during lunch, shambles through the hallways like a zombie, and wants to cry at the thought of going to soccer practice tomorrow.
She's running late to her last class of the day when a wave of nausea hits her, a foul taste rising in the back of her mouth. She turns on heel and rushes for the bathroom, ignoring the bell starting to ring and the side eyes she gets when she nearly crashes into someone. She doesn't have time to close and lock the stall door behind her, or to discard her backpack, before she's dropping to her knees and hunching over the toilet and hurling violently.
Her throat is burning. Her body trembles and aches, like one big, tender bruise. The bell finishes ringing - she's officially late to class. Tears sting in her eyes, made worse by the pungent smell of vomit and high school bathroom.
Lottie's so focused on puking into the bowl and not onto herself that she doesn't hear someone opening the bathroom door and entering, she doesn't hear the soft voice calling her name. She barely registers someone walking up behind her and kneeling down, not until they reach out and pull her bookbag off. The relief of all that weight slipping away nearly has her collapsing, but she manages to hold herself up as she begins to heave once again.
Her savior reacts immediately, reaching out with both hands and gathering the hair away from Lottie's face. Her fingernails scrape lightly against the nape of the other girl's neck as she holds the hair back while Lottie throws up.
Once her stomach is entirely empty, Lottie can't help but whimper. Her mouth is filled with the bitter taste of bile, her head still hurts like a bitch. Tears dampen her cheeks. A glob of spit runs down her chin. She feels utterly hollow.
"It's okay," a gentle voice - Laura Lee, she recognizes her teammate now - soothes. "It's gonna be okay."
Lottie's eyes sting with tears. She whimpers, unable to form words coherently. The realization of how vulnerable she is right now bears down upon her, and she suddenly feels more exposed and humiliated than she has in ages.
But there's no malice or mockery in Laura Lee's eyes. There's not even pity. Just stark, honest concern, and sympathy, and kindness. So much kindness that Lottie thinks she might drown in it.
"Here," Laura Lee says. "Let me..."
She stands and goes to grab a fistful of flimsy brown paper towels from the dispenser. After a minute, she returns, crouching down once more and beginning to clean Lottie up. She wipes the spit and traces of vomit from Lottie's mouth and chin. Lottie presses her eyes shut and lets it happen.
When she's done, Laura Lee says, "okay, I think you're good. I'm not seeing anything on your clothes, except a few little stains on your collar."
"Thank you," Lottie croaks. Her voice is raw and scratchy.
"It's no problem," Laura Lee replies. "Do you think you can you stand up?"
Lottie nods and gets to her feet. She's trembling, so Laura Lee puts a hand on her back to steady her.
"I'll take you to the nurse's office."
"But... aren't you supposed to be in class?"
Laura Lee shakes her head. "Ms. Williams will understand, and I'll ask the nurse to write me a note, just in case."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. Now c'mon, I'll grab your bag."
Lottie wants to protest, but she doesn't have the energy. So she lets Laura Lee grab her backpack and escort her into the hall. She feels awful and guilty for dragging Laura Lee away from class, but she's also grateful. She's glad that she's not alone.
"Where's Mr. McAlister?" Laura Lee asks as she takes her seat and begins pulling things from her backpack. Her notebook, a pencil, and their English textbook. It’s a month to the day after she took Lottie to the nurse, though she isn’t thinking about that whatsoever.
"He's making copies," replies Gen, from two desks down. "He'll be back in a minute."
Laura Lee nods, and looks down at her textbook. They're studying poetry, Shakespearean sonnets, to be specific, but she's opened the book past those pages, to Emily Dickinson. Words seem to float off the page and into her mind. As all the Heavens were a Bell / And Being, but an Ear / And I, and Silence, some strange Race / Wrecked, solitary, here...
She's pulled from her musings by the snap of elastic, by the sudden stinging of the skin on her left shoulder, by Gen's cry of 'hey!' Laura Lee lets out an involuntary yelp as it happens, and the sound is far away. As if came from someone else. Her thoughts are sluggish, weighed down by the sharp pain of humiliation and the smoldering of indignation, of anger.
A few people - boys, mostly - are laughing, and her cheeks redden when she realizes it. That only makes them laugh louder, and makes the boy standing behind her, the one who snapped her bra strap, laugh loudest of all. Laura Lee swallows. Her throat is dry. She wants to curl in upon herself. She wants to be invisible.
The boy, Randy Walsh, reaches out to try and pull on her bra strap again, but before he can do anything, someone yells across the room. "Leave her alone, dickhead!"
It's Lottie, standing up at her desk. Laura Lee has never heard her raise her voice like that before, not even on the few occasions when their games have dissolved into chaos. Lottie's never been one to yell angrily at others. But she's yelling at Randy now, and glaring at him too, glaring in a way that makes Laura Lee think she's about to storm across the classroom and shove him to the ground with all her strength as a center-back. (Laura Lee knows its wrong, but she would sort of like to see that. Just the thought of it has her feeling all warm inside.)
"Oh, fuck off," Randy spits.
"Don't touch her," Lottie repeats with such vehemence that Laura Lee hears an echo of the wrath of god in her voice.
Randy's face is flushed, angry. He didn't expect anyone to call him out for being an asshole. People like him never do. He slinks back to his seat, Gen sneakily flips him off as he does so. Mr. McAlister returns with the papers and everyone acts like nothing happened. Lottie finally stops glowering at Randy, in favor of turning to look at Laura Lee. Her eyes turn kind, questioning. Are you okay?
She doesn't say it aloud, but Laura Lee can still hear the words, can hear the tenor and shape of her friend's voice forming them. They ring in her head. ...As all the Heavens were a Bell / And Being, but an Ear.
Almost instinctively, the two girls find themselves coming together, orbiting around each other like two halves of a binary star. When Lottie's hair tie breaks right before practice, Laura Lee is the one to give her a new one. When Laura Lee misses four days of school in November after catching strep throat, Lottie collects notes for her. On the bus ride home from games, Laura Lee sits next to Lottie and shares m&ms and goldfish and any other snacks she has. Once it gets too cold to walk home from practice, Lottie starts giving Laura Lee rides. They listen to Fleetwood Mac and The Cranberries and Sinéad O'Connor. Sometimes Laura Lee sings along. Sometimes Lottie joins her.
They share a big purple blanket at Jackie's birthday slumber party, pressed close together on the couch, watching Pretty Woman with the rest of the team. Every time Laura Lee's leg brushes against her, Lottie feels a shiver run up her spine. Every time Lottie touches her on the hand or the arm, Laura Lee gets all warm inside. It's overwhelming, but not enough to keep them from doing the same thing when they're both invited to another sleepover at Akilah's home.
Neither says it aloud, but these things, these little rituals, they make life less lonely.
Lottie's comforted when she sees Laura Lee slipping into the seat directly in front of her, a brown bag slung over her shoulder, her teddy bear - named Leonard, she remembers - clutched in her hand. At least she'll have some good company, on this long plane ride to Seattle.
They chat for a bit, before Lottie starts drifting off for a nap, wrapped in her big fur coat. Laura Lee settles in, flips through the glossy pages of a sports magazine, and daydreams about winning Nationals. She toys with the cross around her neck and hums a bit of Rhiannon. Lottie smiles sleepily when she hears it, and that smile makes her heart skip a beat. For a moment, as they soar through the air towards their future, things feel so promising. Delicate too, of course, but so hopeful.
Then the turbulence starts. Then the plane plummets.
Any lingering drowsiness Lottie felt after her nap is wiped out by the surge of adrenaline in her veins. She pulls the oxygen mask on with shaking, clumsy fingers. Her stomach lurches, like it did all those months ago, in the high school bathroom, but this time she doesn't start heaving. There's nothing inside to heave up, save terror.
In front of her, Laura Lee's hands are clasped together, her head is bowed, blonde hair curtaining her fearful face. She tries to pray, to beseech god to deliver them safely to the ground, but the words stick in her throat. The only sound she can make is a high pitched, animal whine. She cannot find purchase, even as she grabs at her faith. There's nothing to hold onto, just empty air surrounding a failing plane-
Lottie reaches forward, attempts to yell Laura Lee's name. It's garbled by the mask covering her mouth, but she still manages to catch Laura Lee's ear. Those clasped hands split apart and she turns, stretching out her arms to meet Lottie. They grip each other's wrists tight. They look at each other, and they're still frightened beyond all words, they're still falling from the sky, but they aren't alone. That's something. That is, in this moment, everything.
Lottie and Laura Lee cling to each other as the plane crashes down.