Chapter Text
Summer was nearly over. Just a few precious hours before routine snuck back in. Before kids started talking once again and hiding became more vital than breathing.
The sun was high in the sky that evening, painting the streets of the little town in the middle of Texas nowhere golden and glistening. Sunlight filtered through Lucy’s bedroom window, warm rays lighting up the room in that natural glow that made everything seem magical and possible for a short time. Birds chirped somewhere outside, a car passed once, a dog barked in the distance. But tucked away in the room, it felt like a secret sanctuary, like the outside world couldn't reach them, not quite yet, anyway.
Wil was sprawled out across Lucy’s bedroom floor, dark curls scattered across the floor while a tennis ball was chucked up and down above their face, careful to not drop it every time. Lucy was kneeled nearby, rummaging through her drawers like it was life or death, and nobody had spoken in so long that Wil had forgotten what Lucy’s original goal was. Or maybe Lucy had spoken, and Wil was too out of it to care. That had become more common recently. Constantly getting lost in their head. Thought spirals twisting and turning them down a path they didn’t want to walk.
At some point, a shadow cast across Wil’s face, blocking the sunlight from their eyes. “Willow. Are you even listening to me?” Lucy’s voice cut through the silence as she rolled on her knees to turn around, facing Wil.
Wil blinked up at her, pushing themselves up to sit, crossed-legged on the carpet. “Yeah. Yes, I’m listening.”
Lucy held two t-shirts up expectantly; one was black with the word chaos plastered across the front in block red letters, the other was white with a small honeybee stitched on the bottom right corner. “Which one?”
“Huh?” Wil tilted their head slightly to the side, brain faltering to catch up.
Lucy sighed dramatically, clapping along with her words for dramatic effect. “Which t-shirt do I wear for the first day of senior year? Which, might I add, is tomorrow.”
When Wil didn’t answer, she exhaled frustratedly. She checked her wrist as if looking at a watch and then glanced up quickly as though remembering she was not wearing a watch. “When is Mikey getting here?”
“Sorry, the- um- the white ones nice. I like the bee.” Wil tried to answer, inwardly screaming at themselves to wake up and pay attention.
Lucy looked at the shirt, then held it up against her and looked in the mirror. “Yeah? This the vibe for senior year?”
“It’s optimism.” Wil said.
Lucy snorted. “It’s soft.”
Wil laughed, bright and free and it startled them. They hadn’t laughed, really laughed, in quite a while.
Lucy sat down next to Wil on the carpet after folding the black shirt and placing it back in the drawer, and chucking the white one on her bed. “Speaking of senior year…” she started, mischief sparkling in her eyes. Wil knew where this was going.
“When are you going to make a move on Brando?” Lucy asked, leaning forward, chin resting on her palm as she looked up at Wil through her lashes. Wil's stomach fluttered with a new feeling, light and warm at the mention of Brando's name, but an underlying sense of dread soon followed. Brando didn't even know them. The real them. No one did.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Wil averted her gaze, but couldn’t help the blush that began forming on their cheeks.
Lucy huffed. “C’mon Willow, you can deny it all you want but-” her voice obnoxiously went up a pitch. “-you like him.”
Wil shook their head. “I don’t.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “I see the way you look at him. Like he hung the damn stars for you. Honestly, I don’t see the appeal but-”
“Because of Alex.” Wil stated, denial suddenly making way for amusement.
Lucy’s face turned a light shade of pink. “I’m not even going to deny that I like Alex because I’m not a coward.”
Wil slapped a hand to their chest. “A coward? Oh, you wound me.”
Lucy playfully pushed their knee. “Shut up.”
Wil paused for a second, a small grin tugging at the corners of their mouth as Brando leaked into their thoughts. They picked at a frayed bit of the carpet, pulling it between two fingers. Their voice was small when they opened their mouth to speak again. “Okay, maybe I-”
They were cut off by the front doorbell ringing, a piercing whistle shattering the fragility of the moment as if it were glass.
“Mikey!” Lucy grinned, and Wil sat a little straighter. Mikey was great, really, she was. But her and Wil had never seemed to click. They never really had much to talk about. But everyone else seemed to love her. She joined their class right at the end of Junior year, moved from Nevada apparently, and just fit into the friendship group. She had gotten specifically close with Brando in a way that always made Wil’s chest tighten.
They heard footsteps treading up the stairs, and before Wil could even process it, Lucy’s door swung open and Mikey stepped in like she owned the place. “What’s up, girls?”
It was supposed to be a greeting, something girls say to their friends, friendly and open. So why did Wil’s stomach twist like that? They felt as if they were going to be sick. But they shoved it down, swallowed it down like a toxin they couldn’t get rid of but could deny and deny until it felt like it was gone.
Mikey looked at Wil for a second, brow furrowing slightly, before brushing it off, throwing her bag down next to Lucy’s desk and sitting down next to Lucy. “Brando says hi, by the way.” She said, her eyes on Wil.
Lucy suddenly perked right up. “That’s funny, we were just talking about him.”
“No we weren’t.” Wil interrupted, shooting Lucy a pleading look.
“Oh, wait, no we weren’t.” Lucy hung her head low dramatically.
Mikey glanced between them awkwardly. “...right. Um, anyways, it's the first day of school tomorrow. I’m absolutely dreading it.”
“They are taking away our freedom again.” Wil mumbled, but Mikey caught it.
She smiled. “Exactly dude, you get it.”
Dude.
Mikey watched Wil’s face as she spoke, and saw the little flash behind their eyes at the word. She catalogued that away for later.
Lucy spoke then. “How is this fair? I’m nearly 18, basically an adult, I should be treated with respect.”
Mikey burst out laughing. “Respect? No offence Lu, but you threw a tantrum last week because they had no cherry slushie in the machine at the gas station. I don’t think that classes as a respectable adult.”
Lucy crossed her arms. “It was a very valid response. Why would they keep the machines open if there was no cherry?”
“Because normal people like other flavours too.” Wil chimed in.
Mikey pointed at them. “Exactly! Point proven.”
Lucy pouted, uncrossing her arms and pushing herself up. “Whatever, I’m going to get snacks before y’all have another go at me. Y’all want?”
“Nothing.” Wil muttered.
“I’m good, thanks.” Mikey replied at the same time.
Lucy nodded, and then headed down the hall. Wil heard her footsteps trail down the stairs.
Mikey cleared her throat. “So, Willow, excited for school tomorrow?”
Wil thought about it for a second. “No.” They said simply.
Mikey laughed. “Real, me neither. Though I am excited to start the year because then it’s closer to the end.”
“That’s very true.” Wil nodding, smiling despite themselves. Maybe Mikey wasn’t that bad after all.
Wil leaned forward, grabbing their bag and pulling their phone out of the front pocket. They checked the time. 7.48pm.
Lucy returned a minute later with a box of twizzlers in hand, slumping onto the floor. Wil instantly snatched the box from her hands. “Uh, rude!” Lucy exclaimed. “You said you didn’t want anything.”
Wil shrugged. “I got hungry in the time that you were gone.”
Lucy blinked. “I was gone for a minute. One singular minute.”
Wil pulled a twizzler out of the packet and bit into it. “That’s long enough.”
Lucy rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. Wil held the packet out to Mikey. “You want?”
Mikey stared at the box like it personally offended her. “I’m more of a red vines girl.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re like, fancy and shit.” Lucy laughed.
Wil just placed the box in their lap and continued chewing. “Suit yourself.”
“Do I not get any?” Lucy asked, baffled.
“Come and get them.” Wil shot back.
Lucy scoffed. “I literally went all the way downstairs to get them.”
“So surely you’ve done enough getting today.” Wil tried to hide their smile.
Lucy surged forward, and snatched the box back.
“Fucking thief.” Wil muttered under their breath, but sat perfectly content, chewing on the twizzler they had in hand.
“Reclaiming.” Lucy shot back.
Wil raised an eyebrow. "Stealing."
"I ain't stole shit."
"Language!"
"Oh you wanna go there?"
They kept arguing back and forth like that for a while, until the sun dipped behind the clouds and the tiredness settled in.
“Well,” Mikey started, stretching her arms a little. “Ladies- guys, it’s been fun, but I’m gonna head home now if I want any chance of sleep for tomorrow.”
Wil noticed the slight correction and smiled, small, to themselves. Mikey noticed instantly and felt something swell in her heart- as if she had done something right.
Wil stood up too, brushing invisible dust off of their jeans. “Ima go too, sorry Luce.”
“Yeah, go on guys, abandon me. I’ll just be here, all by my lonesome.” She threw a hand to her head for dramatic effect.
“Have fun with that.” Wil said, laughing as they grabbed their bag and slung it over their shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, we're still walking together?” Mikey asked Lucy.
Lucy nodded once. “Yeah, probably. Willow is obviously walking with Brando, coz, you know, proximity, and Alex gets a lift anyway.”
Mikey hesitated before simply saying, “Cool, yeah. Okay, see you tomorrow.”
“Bye guys!” Lucy dragged out the word guys on their way out so it followed them down the hall and basically until they hit the street.
“See you tomorrow, Willow- Wil.” Mikey said, smiling, and then turned and started walking.
Wil felt their cheeks burn a little bit. Why did Wil feel so right, if Willow felt so wrong?
Wil didn’t want to think about it, and shoved their hands in their pockets, beginning to walk in the direction of their house.
The streets were cooler this time of night, the heat just a distant haze reflected in the glow of the streetlights.
Brando's house came into view before Wil's did, dark and formal compared to Wil's just next to it. No lights were on in Wil's house, their mom on a business trip. So they were alone once again.
Brando's bedroom light was on, the glow oeeking through from behind his navy blue curtains.
Wil climbed their steps up to the porch two at a time, simultaneously fumbling through the front pocket of their rucksack for their house key, and struggling to twist the lock.
When the door opened, they stepped in. It felt too quiet. Wil usually loved the quiet, but only when it was a choice. This quiet felt silent, empty.
They made their way up to their bedroom, the door creaking open and they finally felt at home. Or, as close to home as they could get.
Posters lined the walls of the room, artists that somehow saw Wil better than Wil saw themselves, little drawings and doodles and notes left by friends or drawn by themselves stuck to the plaster, marks dotted around from where posters had fallen off or been shifted. Their bed wasn’t made, a dark blue bed cover hanging off the side, blending in with the growing pile of clothes on the floor.
They dumped their bag by the door, hearing it thud slightly as they walked towards their wardrobe. They pulled the drawer under their wardrobe open, and shrugged off their shirt, avoiding looking in the mirror, and quickly yanked a pyjama shirt on. They did the same with their pyjama pants.
Wil then tugged a hairbrush through their tangled curls, though it did little to settle the frizziness.
And then their phone buzzed.
Brando: Look up.
Wil smiled instantly, eyes drifting towards the window as if they weren’t planning to do that all along.
Brando smiled when his eyes met Wil’s through the bedroom window of the house next door. Wil watched as Brando waved, and Wil felt themselves waving back, suddenly feeling warm all over.
Yeah, maybe this year won't be so bad.