Work Text:
It was fall and the leaves had just started changing from green to yellow and orange, creating a beautiful sight that Brenda was currently looking at through the window on the school bus, which was quite packed. There were bunch of noisy kids surrounding the girl, some of which were her friends, others Brenda couldn't care less for.
Brenda leaned her head against the window, sighing. The bus ride always felt so long to her. She could hear someone call her name from the back. She lifted her head, turning back and peering around the leather seat. Pamela was at the back of the bus waving at her, motioning for her to come over. Brenda smiled, pushing herself into the aisle. Some of her other friends tried to call out to her as she walked past them, but Brenda just ignored them. Sure, she liked her popular friends, but they were no Pamela.
"Pam! Hey!" Brenda smiled. "Why're you back here all by yourself? You’re lucky I made it through the bus just for you." She stood in front of her friend, holding her purse with both hands, swinging it back and forth idly by the handle. Her ginger curls bounced lightly as she animatedly spoke. Brenda always had a unique sense of style and manner of being.
"Sorry, Bren. I was trying to save you a spot," Pamela said, patting the space beside her.
"Thanks, you're a lifesaver." Brenda laughed as she sat down beside Pamela, setting her purse in her lap and making herself Comfortable on the hard bus seat as the vehicle continued bumping along. "So what's up, girl?" She turned to face Pamela, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Well... Jackson and Ken have been making a racket in science class," Pamela said. "Oh–" She pushed her long, sleek black hair behind one ear, showing off dangling earrings made to look like little carved pumpkins, perfectly festive for Halloween coming up. "–and Jolie made me some custom earrings. Thought I could use a pop of color."
Brenda supposed she was right. Pamela's music taste was considered more on the goth side, and her style certainly reflected that—long flowing dresses and skirts, lots of layers, lace, fishnets under shorts or dresses, DIYing most of what she wore. She worked with the school's dress code. The only colors she wore other than black, and shades of grey were dark oranges, browns, and greens. Today, the brown-skinned girl wore her waves loose and free against her back with an orange headband atop her head, a knit orange sweater over an old black band shirt, a long jean-skirt down to her ankles, and white socks with black boots. She was feeling festive, clearly, and it was certainly a good look. At least Brenda thought so.
Brenda tilted her head, eyes sparkling as she inspected the earrings. "They're cute! I swear, Jolie's gonna end up running her own boutique one day. You look good in orange."
Pamela smiled, feigning being overly bashful. "Why, thank you."
Brenda chuckled and playfully nudged Pamela. "No need to be so modest."
"So, any plans for Halloween?" Pamela asked. "The only plans I have are watching the witch jokes increase by a hundred percent."
"Ugh, those witch jokes are getting old." The red-head complained. "But honestly, I have nothing planned for Halloween yet. Was thinking about maybe going to a party." She shrugged. "What about you? Staying home?"
"Well," Pamela drawled, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I wouldn't need to stay home if we hung out together—you know, just hanging around the streets, or maybe you could help me pass out candy to the trick-or-treaters."
Brenda lit up. "I'd like that."
"Right," Pamela responded with a smile.
"Really. It's way better than going to a random party with a bunch of random people."
Pamela smiled to herself as the bus hit a bump, pressing the two together, yet neither moved.
...
At the end of the school day, Brenda and Pamela dropped by where Jackson and his friends—Jolie, Ken and Timothy—would be hanging out. Well, not necessarily hanging out, they were actually cleaning a classroom, but they certainly made it fun anyways.
The golden light of late afternoon slanted in through the classroom windows. Jackson was standing on a stool, peeling old tape off a banner that read SCIENCE FAIR WINNERS 1985. Meanwhile, Jolie was sweeping with Timothy in the center of the room and Ken was scrubbing a table in the corner. Brenda swung her purse down on an empty desk as she stepped inside the room, Pamela followed behind. The girls decided to help their friends since they seemed to be dragging more and more with every task they completed.
So, Pamela swept, and Brenda wiped down the tables with Ken. Jackson hopped down from the stool, holding the crumpled strip of tape like a trophy. Pamela just laughed at his enthusiasm and gave a light round of applause. Jackson bowed back playfully. Brenda watched their little interactions. Pamela really seemed so comfortable with him. The red-head smiled and giggled at the two playing around, but her stomach twisted. Yeah, Jackson was her friend, and so was Pamela, but sometimes she sort of felt like.. maybe Jackson wouldn't deserve Pam. She certainly wasn't one to talk, though, with the guilt of the situation with Exer and Pamela still lingering, even with all the reassuring Pamela had done that she wasn't mad at Brenda anymore. She supposed she'd just need to get used to Jackson and Pamela flirting. That's why she'd been wing-womaning for her friend. Jealousy couldn't get in the way.
Eventually, the group had successfully tidied up the classroom. Pamela set down her broom against the wall with a clank and wiped the nonexistent sweat from her brow.
Ken clapped his hands loudly. "Alright, crew, the class is sparkling. Tim, Jolie—dismissed."
Timothy mock saluted, grabbing his sketchbook and his bag and walking out the door with a goodbye. Jolie followed with a sigh that sounded an awful lot like fond exasperation, waving bye to Jackson, Brenda, Pamela, and Ken.
"Wait, wait," Ken said suddenly, digging into his backpack. "Before we all go... Brenda, say goodbye to—" He pulled out an all too familiar blue alien puppet, presenting the little guy to Brenda and Jackson specifically, but also Pamela. "—Little Jack!"
"Ken," Jackson groaned, though his amused expression betrayed him.
Brenda smiled at the appearance of little Jack, patting the puppet on the head happily. "Jack, that's your son," she said, mock serious for a moment, until she burst out giggling at Len putting on a squeaky voice for his and Jackson's "son."
Eventually, the boys gathered their stuff, still bantering as they left the room. Pamela had gone quiet by then, her eyes flickering away when Brenda looked back at her, as if when we're staring before.
"You okay?" Brenda asked when she noticed, tilting her head.
"Fine," Pamela responded. "Just tired."
Before Brenda could press further, the sound of obnoxious laughter carried down the hall. Ricky and Marty strolled in, both wearing the smirk Brenda had come to loathe.
"Well, well," Ricky sneered, leaning in the doorframe with Marty at his side. "If it isn't the witch and her little friend."
Brenda straightened. "Shut up, Ricky."
Pamela's jaw clenched as Marty continued for Ricky, "what? We're right, aren't we? You're lucky it's gonna be Halloween in a couple days, then you'll actually blend in."
They both laughed at their own stupid jokes. Brenda stepped forward, just wishing the boys would disappear. "Leave us alone."
Ricky and Marty just continued snickering. Pamela thought they'd learn after messing with Brenda with so long that she can hold her own. Still... maybe it wouldn't hurt to intervene...
The dark haired girl stood behind Brenda as she continued bickering with the boys. The broom that had been propped against the wall shuddered, then slowly rose into the air. It's bristles scraped the floor before it lifted higher, hovering menacingly beside Pamela, in just the right position for Ricky and Marty to see as a green glow coiled it's wooden handle. Ricky's smirk faltered. "What the hell–"
The broom shot forward slightly, Pamela bluffing that she'd do something to them. Both boys yelped, stumbling back in fear.
"W-witch freak!" Marty stammered, instinctively clinging to Ricky as the broom clattered back down, still rocking slightly. They both bolted out of the room, sneakers speaking down the hall and the sounds of them panicking still audible.
Brenda blinked, snapped out of her anger at the two guys. "Huh. Guess they got scared off..."
"Uh, yeah..."
Brenda slowly turned back to face Pamela. "Pam, what'd you do?"
Pamela sighed. "Let's just head home. I don't want to spend all afternoon at school."
"Alright," Brenda sing-songed, strolling side by side with her friend out of the room and down the stairs.
...
Late at night, Brenda stood in the center of her room on her carpet, staring into her mirror as she tied back her wild tangerine curls into a loose ponytail with a pink scrunchie. She wore a white crop top, the straps tangled together with her bra annoyingly enough, some loose fuzzy pink pajama bottoms, and white socks to sleep. She crawled into bed, flicking off the lamp by her bed and curling under the covers. Her head hit the pillow as she laid on her side and gazed out the wide window right beside where she slept, which shined moon light over her restless body. Her eyelids grew heavy and she felt herself begin to drift in and out of sleep.
That was, until she spotted something, right before she could close her eyes one last time. Something dark and gliding through the sky—at first, she thought it to be a bird... possibly even a plane. But as her eyes adjusted, she made it out differently.
Heart thudding, the girl sat up onto her knees and scrambled to open the hatch and slide up her window, leaning out to get a better view. Her locks flowed through the night sky, her eyes glittering at the unbelievable sight. In the mess of stars, there, silhouetted against the moon, clear as day, was what looked to be a girl on a broom—long hair whipping behind her as she flew by, a long flowing dress and what looked to be... a pointy black hat perched atop her head. Brenda nearly tripped right out of her window just then as her breath caught, but she kept herself steady, holding onto the frame. It had to be... a real witch.
She couldn't just ignore the sight and let what seemed to be a real live witch pass her by, could she? So, insane as it was, she shouted out into the night for the magical woman.
"Uh—excuse me!" She called, almost tripping over the windowsill in her frantic sort of excitement.
The witch stopped mid air. Brenda's face flushed as she felt breathless, gasping at how her plan had worked. Her heart skipped a beat as she questioned her own sanity for a brief moment. She leaned out further and beckoned the lady even louder, feeling slightly ridiculous.
"Miss... witch? If... if it's not too much trouble, could you, um... could you come over here?"
The broom left a trail of smoke along the sky, making a faint whirring sound from the bristles fanning as the vehicle sliced through the night air. Brenda supposed Miss Witch had decided to leave. That is, until she realized where the trail led ... to her window! She panicked. Should she have ducked? Should she have ran? Oh, she wasn't sure, but the broom was coming right for her!
And so there Miss Witch was, hat obscuring her face as she floated right in front of Brenda's very eyes. The teen hadn't bargained for such a night, but here she was. She wasn't quite sure what to say. What could one say when faced with the unreal? What do you say to... well, to a... witch!
"Say," Brenda breathed. "I never thought I'd see a witch in my life, but here we are... um, ma'am? Should I call you ma'am?"
"You can call me whatever you like," the witch replied.
Aside from the pure shock jolting through her system, Brenda couldn’t help but notice something else... how familiar the witch's voice was...
Brenda gasped. "It... can't be!"
The mysterious girl's face was no longer obscured as she pulled the hat away from over her deep brown eyes. Her familiar features—her smooth, arched nose, her full soft lips, her free wavy hair drifting through the wind like a shadow behind her, her warm, tan skin.
"Pamela?"
Brenda gasped and jumped back against her bed with a thump loud enough to wake the entire house, scrambling away from her friend and grabbing onto her blankets tightly, her curls floating around her in the air as she felt the magic from Pamela envelop her room. The capacity of Pamela's powers—if she even had any, other than being able to ride a specific cleaning product—was uncertain, but there was something about her affecting Brenda. She gulped and stepped out of bed, the floorboards creaking beneath her. The red-head turned back on her lamp clumsily, missing the pull chain more than a few times before she was able to light up her room.
All that could be heard for a moment was Brenda's rushed breathing at the sight of an ethereal Pamela. Her mouth felt dry and her face flushed with embarrassment for no clear reason.
"Well," she muttered, voice shaky with disbelief. "Now I feel underdressed..."
"No need," Pamela responded. "You look fine to me."
A stout, plump shadow curled around Pamela into sight, tail first, balancing on the broom. The little shadow opened its striking green eyes — Lucy-Furr!
Brenda was surprised. "Lucy?" The cat simply meowed in response and Pamela stroked her back. "What's she doing here? Does Exer know she's gone?" The ginger gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with both hands, before leaning over her windowsill and looking at Pamela suspiciously. "Did you steal Exer's cat?" She accused.
Pamela laughed, but it was no true witch cackle. "No," she said, watching warmly as the black cat leaned into her palm and purred. "She's just been tagging along on her own volition... for a while now."
"So... you've been doing this for a while? Being a witch, I mean... or is it just something you were born with? Is your whole family made up of witches?" Brenda was rapid-fire.
Lucy then leaped into Brenda's arms, as if telling the girl to calm down. Brenda listened and stroked the cat cradled in her arms, letting out a deep breath. "Thanks, Lucy," she mumbled. She wasn't one to stress like this often.
Pamela chuckled at the onslaught of questions. She paused for a moment, thinking. "I guess you could call the magic hereditary, but I'm the only witch in the family. So it's not quite something that gets passed down through the generations, from what I can tell..."
Brenda nodded, still processing everything. It was surreal. The witch thing was one thing, but having her best friend be the witch? Talk about unexpected. She scratched Lucy between the ears, who seemed content in her arms. She then took a seat at the foot of her bed, still petting Lucy. "Okay... so let me get this straight. You were born a witch, you're the only one in the family, you... you have a black cat familiar, and you can fly on an actual broomstick?"
"You're forgetting the pointy hat," Pamela teased, adjusting it on her head. "That's vital for the look."
"Right," Brenda responded. "And... not to mention ... all those kids were right, then."
Pamela's calm expression faltered as her face dropped slightly. "Yeah..."
"Oh, well– well, not about everything else! I think you're wonderful!"
Pamela seemed surprised as her face glowed a faint red and she looked away. "Right. Thanks, Bren."
"I mean it," Brenda continued, more confident this time. "So what if you've really got magic? Maybe that makes you even more... uh... special!" Her face flushed as she stumbled over the declaration. "And you're not ugly like they say witches are, either."
Pamela blinked. "So you think I'm pretty?"
"Well, I never said that.... I just assumed it was a given."
Pamela grinned and bit back a chuckle. "Say..." She leaned in. "Would you ever say yes to.. a broom ride?"
Brenda's eyes met Pamela's. "Me on a broom? Isn't that dangerous?" She retorted.
"Well, not if you hold on tight."
...
So, there she was, on a magical broom ride in her pajamas, holding onto Pamela's waist for dear life.
"Okay, I take back everything bad I ever said about flying!" Brenda squealed. She squeezed Pamela tighter, half-terrified, half-giggling like she was having the time of her life.
"See? Told you it’s safe!" Pamela called over her shoulder, voice bright with laughter.
"Safe? Are you kidding me?" Brenda laughed. "It's..." She peered down below at the buildings, dwarfed from up so high. All the homes and apartments had the lights shut off, the residents inside sound asleep, except for a few windows which were lit—some of them filled with people studying late and pulling an all nighter, others filled with people slow dancing with their partner in the kitchen, their constantly moving silhouettes visible through the tightly closed curtains. "Well... wonderful. But definitely not safe."
Pamela slowed and came to a hault right above one of said apartment buildings, watching the moon and stars with Brenda.
"You know what's weird?" Pamela said, her eyes glued to the sky.
"Hm?" Brenda hummed, resting her chin on Pamela's shoulder.
"It's crazy... that all of this is just... just out there." Pamela gestured to the stars, her hand slowly gliding through the air. "All this time, right above our heads. And we just... don't notice."
"Right..." Brenda agreed, gazing at Pamela's profile. "Pamela," she suddenly announced, loud and awkward.
"Hm?"
Brenda flushed. "Can I kiss you?"
Pamela looked shocked, a warmth spreading across her face. "I... uh, yeah. Of course."
Brenda leaned in and pressed her lips to Pamela's. Pamela was stiff for a moment, unsure of how to react, but soon wrapped her hands around Brenda's waist and pulled the red-head closer. They pulled away for a brief moment, breathless. Lucy peered over from behind Pamela, curiously tilting her head, before curling back up at the end of the broom, seemingly deciding it wasn't anything worth worrying about. Brenda pulled Pamela back in, kissing her with a delicate sense of playfulness, holding back giggles as they held each other. She pecked Pamela on the cheek, smiling against her skin. Then she pressed another to her forehead. And then her other cheek...
—
Pamela said goodbye to Brenda outside her window, still slightly disoriented with all the kisses showered onto her face. In one last romantic gesture, she slid her pointy hat into her hand and offered it to Brenda as a parting gift for the night. Brenda gladly accepted it, her cheeks glowing bright red as she looked down at it.
"I'll see you tomorrow ... and on Halloween," Pamela said smoothly, thought her palms were actually quite clammy against her broomstick.
Brenda had to play it cool and keep from completely freaking out. "Yeah... yeah." She nodded. "I'll see you, Pam." Lucy-Furr also meowed out a goodbye, and then the two were off.
The red-head rolled over onto her back, her hair pooling around her, scrunchie now long abandoned, head against her pillow. She kicked her feet aggressively against her bed, attempting to hold back her bubbling excitement, pressing the battered up black hat to her chest with a dreamy sigh. She looked over out the window one last time, watching as a loopy trail was left outside her window in the sky and a whirring sound faded into the distance.