Chapter Text
It starts when Carmilla is seventeen.
The abandoned bleachers of the old baseball field have always been her safe haven. A place where she can sneak off to when mother’s been a few more handfuls than she usually is. Mattie jumped ship as soon as college came around, and Will’s too much of a mama’s boy to understand it. The next person she felt the closest thing to warmth for was her drug dealer, and that warmth was only for the obvious reasons.
She had always preferred being alone, anyway. Her thoughts were something she learned to handle on her own causing solitude to be more of a comfort than a hindrance long ago. And, that is exactly why she can only feel a growing sense of annoyance at the sound of loud and quick footsteps that only seem to be getting closer with every passing second.
There’s only one working streetlight a good distance from the bleachers, and with Carmilla’s sense of fashion usually being black- she’s a barely seen silhouette besides the red end of her joint where she’s seated. The uninvited visitor isn’t clear to see either. Though, her phone screen is lighting up her face that is practically dug into it, barely paying any mind to her surroundings as she stomps around what looks like aimlessly.
“Oh, come on, Charmander. I know you’re around here somewhere!” the girl says rather aggressively, her steps quickening a few paces before slowing down then altogether coming to a full blown stop. “Aha! I knew it!”
It’s practically a squeal, and Carmilla isn’t sure whether to continue to be annoyed or to find this to be amusing. She decides on both.
(She might know how to deal with her self deprecating thoughts, but distractions have a tendency to make things easier.)
It takes huffing, more than a few angry swipes at the phone, and a rather loud, “what the fudge?” before there’s a grin on the girl’s lips only visible due to the light before she’s throwing a victory fist in the air. Carmilla’s sure she’s about to start doing a dance but she freezes suddenly. She can hear the girl sniffing the air, and she’s only further amused by this- taking the time now to bring the joint to her lips for another deliberate and long hit.
As she blows the smoke slowly out, she sees the girl’s head turn in her direction, but with the light of her phone no longer illuminating her face, Carmilla can’t make out her expression.
“Oh my god, please don’t be criminal.”
She can’t hold back the snort, but her amusement dies down when suddenly there’s a bright light shining right at her. A hand goes up to block it, and she squints as her eyes painfully adjust to the glare.
“I have bear spray, and a taser, and I’m not afraid to use either.”
This time Carmilla scoffs. “The only reason I’m going to hurt you, cupcake, is if you don’t get that thing out of my face.” Her voice is scratchier than usual due to not using it for a long period of time, subtly clearing it after she finishes the sentence. It takes a few seconds, but finally the light is pointed downward, allowing Carmilla to drop her hand and relax her tense face.
The silhouette of the other girl seems more relaxed now, but her stance is awkward. As if she isn’t sure if she should go back to her very intense Pokemon hunting or continue for chit chat.
Carmilla isn’t very fond of chit chat.
There’s a sound of a clearing throat, and then, “well, good to know you’re not a hostile criminal. At least, without reason.”
A hum is the only answer Carmilla is willing to give, the clearest signal she could use that wouldn’t invite a conversation and allow the girl to go back to what she was doing before.
Apparently, it wasn’t clear enough. “You know, doing that here probably isn’t the brightest idea. My dad has busted tons of people in places like this.”
“What are you going to do? Narc me?” Carmilla replies with a bored tone, drawing another hit from the joint.
A shake of the head can be barely be seen in the dark. “No. I think recreational use of marijuana should be legal. It just… isn’t. Yet.” There’s a beat before she adds, “plus there’s a PokeStop at the playground over there which means I probably won’t be the only person to stumble over here and after hours is technically considered trespassing.”
“Doesn’t that mean you’re trespassing, too?”
“I think they may overlook my trespassing charge for a potential drug bust.”
She isn’t about to explain how what she has on her now couldn’t even be spun as possession to any cop who tried to charge her, so she allows silence to be her answer. Talking too much might take away the beginning of the high she was feeling and that would be a shame.
“I’m just trying to be helpful.”
Persistent one. “Noted, then, cutie.”
“Do you give everyone you meet pet names, or am I just special?”
Inhaling deeply, she lets the breath out in a drawn out sigh before silently agreeing to humor the girl until she leaves. “Only the pretty girls.”
“You barely know what I look like.”
She’s finishing off her joint before she replies with a shrug, “I have a sixth sense for this.”
The girl allows the silence between them momentarily again, her stance still awkward before finally she steps closer to the bleachers and stands in a more relaxed position. “My name’s Laura. I actually just moved here this summer with my dad.”
“Your dad chose a shitty place to relocate.”
“I actually think it’s nice here. It’s so small and everybody seems really friendly.”
Yeah, too small. And, only friendly if the criteria for their view of normalcy is met. But, despite contrary belief, Carmilla doesn’t always want to crash everyone’s hopes and dreams so she’ll allow this Laura girl to figure that one out by herself.
She seems like she actually might have a shot of fitting right in, anyway.
“You know, when someone introduces themselves the other person generally introduces themselves back.”
“But, that would ruin the mystery now, wouldn’t it, cupcake?”
Before Laura could say anything else, the phone that was forgotten in her hand begins to ring loudly with ‘Bad Boys’ that seems to physically startle her. “Uh oh,” is all she can say before she’s quickly answering the phone and clearing her throat. “Hey, dad-- I-- no, I am not playing Pokemon Go in a dangerous place again! … no, of course, I’m not alone. I have a friend…” she’s trailing off, her free hand moving to cover the mouthpiece and the light of the phone showing her face again with it up to her ear. A face showing eyes almost desperately looking in Carmilla’s direction. “Her name is…”
An eyebrow that Laura can’t see raises and a smirk slowly grows on her face. This new girl is actually kind of cute. If Carmilla was into bubbly girls, that is.
Laura’s face gets more pointed and more desperate, mouthing a ‘please’ in her direction and acting as if she’s clearing something in her throat and coughing as if to stall. An Oscar-worthy performance, of course.
After a few more seconds of smirking, she relents. Probably because of the weed. “Carmilla.”
--
Laura has to leave immediately after the phone call. But, not before mumbling something about being 'so grounded' and a rushed farewell. Honestly, Carmilla’s high at that point was hitting it’s peak so she could barely understand what the girl was saying but she managed a ‘bye, cupcake’ before she was gone.
And, then she didn’t see her again for the rest of the summer.
--
Hood up, headphones in, and converse sneakers up on her desk, Carmilla has decided that it’s way too early to be dealing with humanity. She’s going to drop out this year, she swears by it this time. She can totally get her GED, and figure out her life from there. Become a drug dealer. Whatever.
Except, her mom would surely kick her out then, she doesn’t think she’s ever going to figure out her life, and she’d be the shittiest drug dealer ever because she’d probably smoke everything before she sold it.
Plus, it was her senior year so she supposed she could finish off the rest of high school.
Homeroom is getting annoyingly packed by this point, and she’s praying that nobody takes the seat next her. Being the school’s pariah, her prayers are usually granted but there’s always that one kid every once in awhile who has to be a shithead.
And, of course, she can feel the presence of someone sitting down to her left.
Her eyes are closed so she doesn’t see who it is. Carmilla swears if it’s another one of those jocks who thought their penis was the cure, she’s probably going to actually castrate them rather than just threaten to this time. “Go away,” she croaks out.
The music is low enough to hear the reply. “Well, good morning to you, too. I would leave you be in your voluntary state of isolation, but considering there aren’t any seats available besides this one-- I can’t.”
The voice is familiar enough to cause her eyes to open, head lazily turning to the side to get a view of the girl.
It isn’t like she really got a fantastic look at her that night, but the features she was able to make out are identical. Carmilla practically forgot about the random girl on the field after a couple days, but the memory rushes her. Perhaps there’s a little amusement to the reunion.
“Well, then, cupcake-- make yourself at home,” she says with a small wink.
It seems to register immediately with the nickname and there’s a small smile gracing her lips. “Carmilla.”
Something about her remembering her name almost makes her smile back. Almost. “Cutie.”
“I have a name, you know.”
All the dark haired girl offers back is a shrug, yanking her head phones out of her ears at the sound of the bell ringing.
“Karnstein, get your feet off the desk. I don’t know why I have to tell you this every year.”
--
Due to Laura’s persistence and not at all Carmilla’s loneliness, the two become unlikely and fast friends. Laura was fifteen and a sophomore, but she acted more mature than her peers and even most of the adults Carmilla knew.
Not that Laura didn’t have her moments. But, they were oddly endearing and not usually annoying.
(Plus, Pokemon Go was kind of fun, even if Carmilla would never openly admit that. Ever.)
The year went by fast with Laura, almost too fast. And, before Carmilla knew it, she was looking into colleges. Something she isn’t sure she would have taken seriously if Laura hadn’t been there.
(“Listen, I would never push you to do something you didn’t want to do, Carm, but I also don’t want to see you give up a wonderful opportunity. Your grades are amazing, and while your disciplinary record isn’t squeaky clean- it certainly isn’t enough to hold you back. You can really be something if you wanted to, Carmilla.”)
After looking into colleges came applying and then there was an acceptance letter. One Laura had to open because Carmilla was too busy staring at it and it seemed her friend had gotten too impatient. Laura’s reaction to the letter was possibly giddier than hers, with squealing and hugging to go with it.
The college, however, was eight hours away. And, for years, the thought of leaving this place was nothing but solace to her. For years, it was the only dream she really had. To get away from her mother and all the other adults as well as peers who didn’t make her adolescence the most positive time in her life.
But, leaving wasn’t just leaving them behind anymore. It meant leaving Laura behind. And, perhaps they had only known each other for the school year, but Laura looked at her different. Laura treated her different. Laura believed in her, even if she wasn’t sure why. That made leaving a little harder than it would’ve been before.
It almost made it feel impossible.
--
The night she got her acceptance letter, Laura proposed to celebrate. Considering Carmilla took to not smoking around the daughter of a police officer, she picked the less likely to get in trouble route and snuck some alcohol over to Laura’s. It worked out perfectly considering Mr. Hollis had a night shift leaving the two to the house alone. The only liquor she brought was a harsh bottle of whiskey and the rest of the beverages were light beer. Obviously, the whiskey was for herself, knowing that the younger girl would want to try it but probably wouldn’t like it. Which is exactly why she picked the particular one she brought since it was far from a favorite.
She was right in assuming Laura would want to try it. And, she was also right in assuming she wouldn’t like it.
(“Please don’t throw up, creampuff.”
“How do you drink this stuff?!”)
After that, the sophomore stuck to the beer and considering it was her first real time drinking, it didn’t take Laura very long to start to feel the effects. Carmilla wasn’t far behind her, opting to drink straight from the bottle as the two marathoned Laura’s favorite reality TV show, Dance Moms.
One thing Carmilla had found out fast about her friend was that she was touchy. It weirded her out at first, not use to casual affection and even acting standoffish whenever it happened for a point in time. Laura would back off for awhile, but would pick it up again in smaller increments until finally it became natural. They’d even find themselves holding hands at times.
Like tonight. Bodies slumped together, Laura’s head on Carmilla’s shoulder and fingers laced loosely. It was comfortable, and easy, and something Carmilla had never experience in her life.
“Carm?”
“Hmm?”
“You promise to stay in touch, right?”
The dark haired girl’s head turns away from the TV at the question, a curious look on her face. They’ve had this conversation before. Really, Laura practically tells her that she won’t have any choice but to stay in touch because “if you think you’re getting rid of me that easily than you are sorely mistaken, missy”. Perhaps sometimes Carmilla teases about it, but the small smile on her face gives her away.
“Like, you’re not going to go to college and find other friends and have all that college fun and just, you know… gradually lose contact with me?”
“Ah, yes, because I’m so great at making friends and being social.”
Laura, who was making it a point to stare at the TV rather than at Carmilla, finally shifts her gaze and gives her a look of seriousness, revealing the small pout on her lips. “Carmilla, I’m serious.”
Carmilla’s eyebrow raises. “So am I.”
A sigh leaves Laura’s lips, and she’s suddenly sitting up to the edge of the couch. Her hand leaves Carmilla’s and she uses it to rub her wrist against her eyes. “No, this place doesn’t count.”
The dark haired girl follows suit in the other’s movement, positioning herself at the end of the couch and cocking her head. “What are you talking about, cupcake?”
There’s a lapse of silence, and Carmilla almost opens her mouth to try saying something else but then Laura turns to her and finally speaks again. “Your mom and outdated beliefs ruined this place for you. And, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” It’s Carmilla’s turn to look away. “And, I’m even sorrier for bringing it up, but, Silas isn’t going to be like that. It’s a bigger city, and it’s a fresh start. And, I want you to have that. Because you deserve it,” as Laura says that, she rejoins their fingers together and it makes Carmilla look back. It makes her notice the slight gloss to her friend’s eyes. “You deserve a clean slate, and more friends, and the chance to not have to be so damn… broody.”
Carmilla chuckles but there’s a hint of sadness to it, clearing her throat quietly at the knot that seems to be building up in it. Of course, Laura was going to get all friggin’ emotional when they’ve been drinking and she isn’t able to wear her mask so easily.
“But, I’m going to miss you, Carm. And… I don’t know. I just want to know that you’re actually going to, like, try. I guess…” Laura blinks a few times and then a flash of embarrassment crosses her face, her fingers leaving Carmilla’s once more and her head facing back toward the TV. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t know why I’m being weird--”
“Hey, hey,” Carmilla cuts her off and shushes her. “It’s okay. You’re not being weird.”
Maybe she feels a little weird, but it’s not because of what Laura’s saying. It’s because it’s still new to her to fathom that someone cares enough to say it. Hell, there’s a big part of her that wonders if Laura was going to forget about her once she was gone. An insecurity she isn’t brave enough to voice, but one that lingers nonetheless. Laura had other friends and was well liked in the community. Even her blatant friendship with Carmilla wasn’t enough to make people shun her even if they criticized.
“Listen,” she breathes out with a sigh, her hand being the one to reach out for Laura’s this time and hold it with firmness, “you’re… the best friend I’ve had. In a long time. And, obviously, I don’t… it’s not easy for me to make friends. I don’t like people.”
Laura’s looking at her, all wide-eyed and pouty. “I’m not saying I don’t want you to make friends, I want you to--”
“I know. I know what you’re saying. What I’m saying is, even if I by chance do find someone I can tolerate-- the friendship you and I have? It’s not… it’s not likely I’ll find someone like you, princess,” Carmilla licks her lips and squeezes the other’s hand, dawning a smile afterward. “I promise to stay in contact with you.”
It takes Laura a moment, but then she finally smiles back and moves to sit back against the couch. When they fall into each other again, it’s closer than they were before and they wind up falling asleep in the den.
When Mr. Hollis gets home, he turns the TV off, drapes a blanket over them and pretends he didn’t see any alcohol.
(He reasons with himself that getting angry because two teenagers drank while watching TV in a safe environment rather than at some party somewhere on a Friday night isn’t the worst thing his daughter could be getting into. He also didn’t see the whiskey.)
--
Carmilla voluntarily doesn’t walk at graduation. Laura wasn’t ecstatic about it, but knew very well that Carmilla had absolutely no desire to attend either graduation rehearsals or the graduation itself so she got over it. They spent from Carmilla’s last day of school until the end of summer practically inseparable. Mr. Hollis, while at first wasn’t sure what to make out of Laura’s friend, came around in the end. It was nice to have an adult figure in her life that didn’t completely write her off from the start. Especially when it came around to allowing her to hang out with his daughter.
They spent time at the abandoned baseball field a few times that summer. Laura thought it ought to be sentimental (and, she caught more Charmanders). It was, Carmilla supposed. It just made her remember when those bleachers used to be her sanctuary.
Now, Laura was.
It was hard to try to not think about what that meant. She’d catch herself sometimes, too. Staring at her a little too long when she wasn’t looking. Holding her hand a little too tightly. She had to stop herself, of course. First off, Laura was probably straight. She never got a total confirmation on it since the girl never felt the need to assert it with her. But, she also never said anything about her sexuality, period. And, they’ve talked about Carmilla’s plenty. Second off, Laura was her best friend and she’s somehow not ruined that so pushing it any further would probably start a time bomb.
If preserving their friendship meant not thinking about her like that, consider it done.
--
The day she left for college was a hard one. Carmilla joked with a cracked voice if Laura was ever going to let her go as they hugged but made no move to let go either. If anything, she held on tighter. Mr. Hollis gave her a lengthy hug when it was his turn, and insisted that she took fifty dollars for whatever she needed.
Her mother never showed up (which was honestly fine with her), but to her surprise-- her brother did. Their relationship was peculiar. He was tense around her, but a sense of protectiveness was also there. Before Laura was there to stand up for her, Will had gotten into a fight with the football captain Carmilla’s junior year over her. She can tell he has trouble accepting it, but he’s much closer to it than most of the town.
The tears might have brewed behind her eyes in the hug with her brother, and she might even had heard a sniffle from him, too. He asks if she’ll stay in contact. She says she will.
Once she’s on the bus, she doesn’t look out the window. She isn’t strong enough to. Laura had started crying again before she even boarded and after the whole ordeal with her brother, she doesn’t trust herself not to crack. This is ridiculous. She doesn’t do tears. She really doesn’t do tears in public places.
Sometimes it was easier when she was used to not feeling at all.
(No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t at all.)