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manon bannerman was, by every available metric, a disaster.
not, like, a tragic disaster. not in the poetic, cinematic way. more in the “has two open monster cans on her desk, one sock on the floor, and three unfinished texts in her phone from people she owes money to” way.
her room looked like the aftermath of a low-budget apocalypse. clothes were draped over the back of her desk chair, a hoodie hung half-off the window frame like it had given up on life, and there were exactly seven things on her bedside table that absolutely did not belong there, including a vape she insisted was decorative, a half-eaten packet of sour worms, a charger with the cord chewed into a tragic little mess, and a stack of papers she had definitely promised herself she would sort out two months ago.
it was the kind of room that said, loudly and with confidence, this bitch is not okay.
and that was fine. manon was used to being not okay. she was used to being the weird one, the blunt one, the one who forgot deadlines and then looked personally betrayed when people expected her to meet them. she was used to being called a lot of things.
loser was one of them.
she had heard it enough in school to stop flinching when people said it. she had even sort of made peace with it, in the way you make peace with a thunderstorm by deciding you simply cannot control the weather. if being a loser meant she got to wear her old band tees, skip out on superficial bullshit, and keep her own circle small, then fine. loser she was.
she was in her bedroom on a wednesday afternoon, sprawled on her stomach with her laptop open and three different tabs full of information she was pretending to understand, when her phone buzzed across the duvet.
megan 🍒
hii, are we still on to study
for that project today?
[ Read 10:28 am ]
manon had entirely forgotten about that. she had been trying to clear every trace of her project partner from her brain recently.
yhyh all good
what time were u thinkin
[ Read 10:31 am ]
im the area so i can
be there in like 15 mins
[ Read 10:32 am ]
manon stared at the screen.
then she stared at it harder.
“what the fuck,” she muttered to no one, because no one was there to judge her, which was probably for the best.
megan skiendiel was in her english class, which was already unfair from a cosmic standpoint. it was not fair that somebody could be that pretty and also that annoying and also somehow be academically functional. megan had the kind of face that made people forget what sentence they were in the middle of. she looked like she belonged in some artsy brand campaign with soft lighting and a song about heartbreak in the background. she also had a mouth that never seemed to turn off. she was funny in a way that made teachers tired and other students obsessed.
she was also, somehow, in manon’s room 15 minutes.
manon had barely enough time to shove the worst of the clothes off the bed and throw a hoodie over the laundry basket before the door opened without so much as a knock.
“wow,” megan said, stepping in with two iced coffees in one hand and a tote bag slung over her shoulder. she stopped, looked around, and nodded like she was making a documentary. “this room is a cry for help.”
manon sat up and pointed at her. “you didn’t knock.”
“i texted.”
“that is not the same thing.”
“for a loser, you’re weirdly particular.”
“for a bitch with iced coffee, you’re weirdly bold.”
megan gasped in mock offense and held up the drinks. “first of all, i brought peace offerings. second of all, i’m literally doing charity work by being here.”
“charity work?” manon repeated, standing up to take one of the coffees. “bro, you showed up uninvited with a weird ass millenial bag and a superiority complex.”
“a tote bag, thank you. very sustainable. very on brand.”
“you are not on brand.”
“that’s because you don’t know my brand.”
manon snorted before she could stop herself. megan noticed immediately, because of course she did, and her mouth twisted into the kind of smile that suggested she was filing the sound away for later.
there was no reason for manon’s ears to get hot over that. absolutely no reason. none.
megan dropped her tote bag on the floor and sat cross-legged at the end of manon’s bed like she had every right to be there, which was rude, actually, because she did not. she looked around the room again, gaze lingering on the stuff taped to manon’s wall: a messy collage of concert ticket stubs, doodles, and a ripped-out photo of a black cat she had found online and liked enough to print.
“okay,” megan said. “your room is kind of giving roderick heffley if he was an unstable lesbo.”
“and your face is kind of giving..gay.”
fucking awful comeback, manon thought to herself. next she's going to be pulling up with the theyre my style! if someone disses her hair.
“thank you.”
“that was not a compliment.”
“i know. i chose to receive it like one.”
manon blinked. “you’re so weird.”
“and yet you invited me into your bedroom. interesting.”
manon froze.
megan froze too, but only for half a second, just long enough to let the sentence land before she grinned like the devil had personally sponsored her tuition.
“i mean,” megan said, dragging the words out, “your room. your bedroom. where we are currently doing the project. obviously.”
manon gave her the most disgusted look she could manage. “do not start.”
“i didn’t start anything.”
“you absolutely just started something.”
“i literally only said the truth.”
“you’re impossible.”
“you like it.”
manon made a noise of pure disbelief. “i do not like you.”
megan leaned back against the wall, legs stretched out, and took a sip of her coffee. “that’s crazy because you keep texting me back.”
“because the project is due in two days.”
“and because you’re desperate for my attention.”
“girl, what attention?”
megan’s grin widened. “exactly.”
manon threw a pillow at her head.
megan caught it one-handed without looking away from her cup. “careful. that was almost intimate.”
manon stared.
megan stared back, dead serious for exactly one second, then immediately ruined it by cackling into her coffee.
“you’re such a freak,” manon said, but she was laughing now too, because unfortunately the bitch was funny. that was the worst part. if megan had been mean in a normal way, manon could have just hated her in peace. but no, megan had to be charming about it. had to be one of those people who could say the most annoying thing imaginable and still somehow make you feel like you were in on the joke.
it made manon suspicious.
it also made her chest feel weird in a way she did not care to examine.
she cleared her throat and reached for the stack of printed articles on her desk. “okay, we need to actually do this before i fail english and my teacher emails my soul to my parents.”
megan took the papers, scanned the top page, and made a face. “wow. so we have to write about symbolism in the great gatsby?”
“yeah.”
“that’s so lame.”
“welcome to school.”
“i hate school.”
“you’re literally doing fine.”
“that’s because i’m carrying this group project.”
manon pointed at her. “you’ve been here for ninety seconds.”
“and in those ninety seconds i’ve already done more labor than your entire personality.”
“my personality is amazing.”
“your personality is a mildly threatening parking lot.”
manon laughed again, louder this time. “you talk too much.”
“you keep looking at me though, dont ya.”
manon looked down so fast it nearly gave her whiplash. “i’m looking at the papers.”
“mhmm.”
“stop making that noise.”
“what noise?”
“that little ‘mhmm’ thing. you do it like you know something.”
“maybe i do know something.”
“about english?”
“about you.”
manon’s head snapped up. “what is that supposed to mean?”
megan shrugged, too casual. “it means you have terrible posture, you pretend not to care about anything, you bite the inside of your cheek when you’re nervous, and you absolutely hate it when people don’t take you seriously.”
manon went very still.
the room was suddenly much quieter.
outside, a car went by. somewhere downstairs, one of the cats screamed for no reason because the universe was unstable. manon’s phone buzzed once, then stopped. megan was still looking at her, expression unreadable now, less joking, more direct.
manon’s first instinct was to defend herself. obviously. that was her whole thing. she opened her mouth, closed it, then narrowed her eyes instead.
“you’ve been studying me?”
megan made a face. “that sounds insane.”
“because it is insane.”
“no, i just have eyes.”
“that sounds like the same thing.”
“it’s not.” megan tilted her head. “unless you’re saying i’m weirdly observant, which, yeah, i am. because i’m not blind. unlike you, apparently.”
manon laughed under her breath and grabbed her notebook, mostly so she had something to do with her hands. “you are not observant, you are nosy.”
“same thing.”
“no, it’s not.”
“fine,” megan said, fake sighing. “i’m nosy. so sue me. still doesn’t change the fact that you act like a grumpy old man in a college students body.”
“first of all, rude. second of all, i don't wanna hear any of that shit from you of all people.”
“you sure act like you’re eighty.”
“and you act like you’ve never been told no in your life.”
megan’s eyes flickered. “that’s because no one can say no to me.”
manon barked out a laugh. “delusional.”
“realistic.”
“delusional.”
“you’re smiling.”
manon immediately dropped her mouth into a scowl. “i’m not.”
“liar.”
“shut up.”
“make me.”
manon paused.
megan paused too.
the air shifted a little, just enough to become aware of itself.
then manon, because she had the survival instincts of a rambo action figure, grabbed one of the highlighters from her desk and chucked it at megan’s shoulder.
“ow,” megan yelped, laughing. “violent.”
“you deserved it.”
“for flirting?”
manon nearly choked. “you were not flirting.”
megan stared at her for a beat, then slowly, deliberately, smiled. “oh my god. you thought i was flirting.”
“i did not think anything.”
“you so did.”
“you are literally making that up.”
“manon.”
“what.”
“you’re blushing.”
“i am not.”
“you are so red.”
manon slapped both hands over her face. “fuck off.”
megan laughed so hard she tipped sideways onto the bed. “oh my god. you actually do think i’m flirting.”
“you’re insufferable.”
“yeah, but you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed.”
manon dropped her hands and glared. “do not call me adorable.”
megan blinked. “why?”
“because i hate it.”
“hmm.”
“what does that mean?”
“nothing.”
“say it.”
“no.”
“megan.”
“no.”
“you’re being weird.”
“you’re being weird.”
“you started it.”
“did i?” megan said, voice syrupy with fake innocence. “or did you just not realize i was flirting because your brain is full of rocks?”
manon stared at her, expression blank with offense. “excuse me?”
“i’m joking.”
“you are not joking.”
“i’m literally kind of joking.”
“kind of?”
“fine,” megan said, lifting a hand. “extremely joking. i would never flirt with you.”
manon’s expression did something strange. “oh.”
megan watched her face with immediate, visible regret. “no, wait, i mean—”
“cool,” manon said, a little too flat. “good.”
“manon.”
“what.”
“i was making fun of you.”
“yeah, i know.”
“you don’t sound like you know.”
manon set her notebook down harder than necessary. “can you please stop saying weird things and help me with the essay before i throw myself out the window?”
megan stared for a second longer, then nodded, the teasing dropping away. “yeah. yeah, okay. sorry.”
manon hated the tiny lurch in her stomach that came with that apology. hated even more that megan noticed it. or maybe she didn’t. maybe manon was just losing her mind in real time.
they spent the next hour sorting through quotes, scribbling notes, and arguing over which version of the gatsby essay topic was less terrible. megan turned out to be annoyingly good at this. not in a nerd way, because that would have been easier to mock. no, she was one of those people who could glance at a page for thirty seconds and then casually pull out an interpretation that made manon want to both kiss her and punch her.
which was not a thought manon was prepared to have.
she became very focused on the text. on the quote in front of her. on the doodle she had started making in the corner of her notes. on literally anything except the fact that megan was sitting on her bed, legs tucked beneath her, chewing on the end of a pen like she had invented the concept of being effortlessly attractive.
“stop looking at me like that,” megan said suddenly.
manon nearly dropped her pen. “like what?”
“like you’re about to murder me with your eyeballs.”
“i am.”
“why?”
“because you keep distracting me.”
megan tilted her head and smiled in a way that should have been illegal. “i’m distracting you?”
“yes.”
“with my stunning intellect?”
“with your awful spelling.”
“my spelling is bad?”
“i’m sorry, do you need a powerpoint?”
megan laughed, then leaned forward and rested her chin in her hand. “you know, you’re kind of cute when you’re trying not to be.”
manon deadpanned. “i’m going to bite you.”
“wow. kinky.”
manon snapped her head up so fast she nearly got a headache. “what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“a lot, actually.”
“yeah, that much is obvious.”
“you like it though.”
“i literally do not.”
megan didn’t answer right away. she just looked at manon for a second, eyes bright, mouth twitching like she was fighting a smile. then she said, in a much softer voice, “you sure?”
manon’s stomach dropped for no reason at all.
“yes,” she said, way too fast.
megan sat back. “okay.”
the word landed weirdly. not cold, exactly. just less playful than before.
manon hated it immediately.
she hated that she noticed the change. hated that she wanted to fix it. hated that the room suddenly felt too small.
she cleared her throat. “i’m kidding.”
megan looked at her. “about biting me?”
“about not liking you.”
that was the wrong thing to say, because megan’s face changed instantly. not dramatically. just enough. her eyebrows lifted and she looked at manon like she was trying to decide whether this was a joke or a trap.
“you’re such a dork,” megan said quietly.
manon swallowed. “yeah, well. you knew that.”
“i knew you were annoying.”
“same thing.”
“not at all the same thing.”
manon picked up one of her highlighters and twisted the cap on and off. “can we not make this weird.”
“you made it weird.”
“i did not.”
“you literally said you liked me.”
“i said i was kidding.”
“you said it after making me think you’d hate-fuck me into oblivion.”
manon looked at her, completely flat. “i did not say that.”
“you implied it.”
“that’s insane.”
“you’re insane.”
“you’re the one acting like this is a romantic comedy.”
“maybe it is.”
manon stared. “what?”
megan shrugged, but there was something unsteady in it now, a crack in the usual confidence. “nothing.”
“no, say it.”
“no.”
“megan.”
“manon.”
they glared at each other for five full seconds, which was probably a new record for both of them, before manon looked away first, because of course she did, because megan had a way of looking at her like she was the only interesting thing in the room and that was frankly offensive.
manon leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling.
“you’re weird today,” she muttered.
“i’m always weird.”
“no, like, extra weird.”
“you asked me to help you study.”
“this is not about the studying.”
“sure it isn’t.”
manon kicked her shin lightly with the toe of her sock. “stop acting like you know everything.”
megan huffed a laugh and nudged her foot back. “stop acting like you don’t know what’s happening.”
manon turned her head slowly. “nothing is happening.”
megan held her gaze.
manon looked away again.
they worked in silence after that, but it wasn’t normal silence. it was the kind that made every tiny sound too loud: the scratch of manon’s pen, the rustle of megan turning pages, the tiny hum of the radiator, the buzz of manon’s phone lighting up face down on the bed. every so often, megan would make a quiet comment about the essay or flick manon’s wrist with the back of her fingers when she got too in her head. every single one of those touches felt stupidly significant.
by the time the sun was starting to go down, the room was full of the smell of coffee, highlighter ink, and the open window draft from outside.
megan stretched and made a sound that was extremely unfair to hear in close quarters. “okay, i need a break before my brain actually liquefies.”
manon rubbed at her eyes. “same.”
“we have, like, enough for an outline.”
“finally.”
“you should thank me.”
“for what?”
“for being better at this than you.”
manon rolled her eyes. “you are so full of shit.”
“and yet so useful.”
“barely.”
“wow. rude.”
manon stood up and walked to her door. “i’m getting snacks.”
megan looked up. “what kind of snacks?”
“whatever’s in the kitchen.”
“your kitchen snack selection is always a gamble.”
“then don’t eat them.”
“noted, not listening.”
manon opened the door, then paused. “you coming or are you just going to sit there and look pretty?”
megan’s grin came back immediately. “sitting and looking pretty is my new job title.”
“that’s not a real job title.”
“it is if i say so.”
manon shook her head, but she was smiling again, so she could not really claim victory here.
in the kitchen, she found a pack of chips, a random protein bar, and a suspiciously old packet of cookie that were technically still edible if one ignored time as a concept. megan, unsurprisingly, had opinions on all of it.
“those cookies are a hate crime,” she said, holding them up.
“so don’t eat them.”
“i’m not saying no.”
“of course you’re not.”
manon shoved the chips into her arms. “you’re such a scavenger.”
“and you’re obsessed with me.”
manon nearly dropped the protein bar. “dude, shut up.”
megan laughed, leaning against the counter. she had one knee bent, those cute dimples under her eyes in full effect, hair falling into her eyes in that annoyingly perfect way that looked accidental but probably wasn’t. manon caught herself staring and immediately started aggressively opening the bag of chips just to have something to do.
“i think,” megan said, voice light, “you’re just upset because i’m better at this whole project thing.”
“we’ve been over this. you are not better at everything.”
“name one thing i’m not better at.”
manon looked up. “being humble.”
“that’s not a skill.”
“being annoying.”
“i excel at that.”
“being quiet.”
megan gasped. “rude.”
“being normal.”
“oh, now you’re just being mean.”
“you started it.”
“i’m always starting things, babe.”
manon stopped chewing.
megan stopped talking.
the kitchen went dead still.
babe.
it had slipped out so casually, like she called manon that every day, like it was nothing, like it meant absolutely nothing at all.
manon’s face went hot.
megan’s eyes widened a fraction.
then, with the death grip of a person trying not to panic, she reached for the chips and said, too quickly, “wow. these are saltier than your attitude.”
manon, who had not recovered, blurted, “did you just call me babe?”
megan froze with the crisps halfway to her mouth.
“no,” she said.
manon blinked. “you literally did.”
“did i?”
“yes.”
“i mean, i say babe in a normal way.”
“normal way to who?”
“everyone.”
“that is a lie.”
megan took a bite of the chip like she needed the crunch to survive. “it was accidental.”
“mmhmm.”
“why are you looking at me like that?”
“like what?”
“like you’re planning a murder.”
“i am planning several.”
megan laughed, but there was a crack in it now. “you’re so dramatic.”
“and you’re weird.”
“you like weird.”
“i never said that.”
“you do though.”
manon opened her mouth, then closed it again. because she was not wrong and that was deeply inconvenient.
“come on,” megan said, softer now. “back to your room.”
“this is your fault.”
“how is it my fault?”
“because you said babe.”
“you’re the one making it a thing.”
“because it is a thing.”
megan looked at her for a very long second, then smiled slowly. not her usual teasing grin. this one was smaller, more careful, like she was holding something fragile between her hands.
“okay,” she said. “maybe it is.”
manon stared at her.
then manon, because she was apparently determined to make every moment difficult, said, “what does that mean?”
megan shrugged, but she was looking at the floor now. “nothing.”
“don’t do that.”
“do what?”
“say something and then act like you didn’t.”
megan let out a small breath. “maybe i just like getting a reaction out of you.”
manon narrowed her eyes. “that’s not all.”
megan looked up. “what if it is?”
“it’s not.”
“you sure?”
“yes.”
“then what do you think it is?”
manon felt her throat tighten. “i don’t know.”
“yeah, you do.”
“i don’t.”
“manon.”
“what.”
megan stepped closer, just one step, but it changed the whole energy of the room. the kitchen suddenly felt too narrow, too bright, too aware of itself. manon could smell her coffee, the faint sweetness of her lip gloss, the cold air from outside on her jacket. could see the tiny freckle near her cheekbone she had never noticed before.
“you really are oblivious,” megan said.
manon stared at her, offended on principle. “to what.”
megan’s mouth twitched. “to me.”
manon went completely blank.
“what?”
megan laughed under her breath, and there it was again, that weird softness, that careful look. “nothing. forget it.”
“no, absolutely not. you don’t get to say some cryptic bullshit and then walk away.”
“you’d hate it if i didn’t.”
“i already hate it.”
“sure.”
manon crossed her arms. “say it again.”
“say what?”
“the thing.”
“what thing?”
“you know what thing.”
megan’s eyes dipped to manon’s mouth for a split second.
then back up.
manon’s whole body short-circuited.
“you’ve got to be kidding me,” manon muttered, and now she was the one looking away, because absolutely not, absolutely not, there was no way this was happening in the kitchen by the chips.
“you wanted me to say it.”
“i did not say that.”
“you basically did.”
manon rubbed a hand over her face. “what the fuck is wrong with you.”
“probably my taste in girls.”
manon’s hand froze.
megan went still.
the packet of chips crinkled in her hand with the force of her grip.
“what did you say?” manon asked, and her voice came out lower than she expected.
megan’s face did something very complicated. for once, she didn’t have a quick answer. she didn’t have a joke ready. she just looked at manon like she had walked into something and now had to decide whether to keep going.
“nothing,” she said, but it was the least convincing nothing in history.
manon’s heart was now actively trying to climb out of her ribcage and file a complaint.
“megan.”
“what.”
“what did you mean by that.”
megan laughed once, but it sounded thin. “oh my god. you’re unbearable.”
“answer the question.”
“maybe i meant exactly what it sounded like.”
manon stared at her.
the kitchen was so quiet it felt like someone had turned off the world.
“are you serious?” manon said.
“i don’t know,” megan said, and now she was smiling, but only a little, like she was scared of what would happen if she smiled too much. “are you?”
manon’s brain stopped functioning entirely.
that was a problem.
“no,” she said, because it was the only sound available to her.
megan’s expression shifted.
“oh,” she said, very softly.
manon immediately regretted everything. “no, i mean, not no like that, i mean, no, i’m not, like, i don’t know, i’m confused, this is confusing.”
“you don’t have to save it,” megan said, eyes on her face.
“i am not trying to save anything.”
“sure.”
“i’m serious.”
“i know.”
“then stop looking at me like that.”
“like what?”
“like you’ve got me figured out.”
megan’s smile was so small it almost hurt to see it. “i don’t have you figured out.”
“good.”
“i just know you like acting tougher than you are.”
manon opened her mouth.
megan kept going, voice gentle but still teasing around the edges. “and i know you get all weird when people are nice to you.”
“i do not.”
“you do.”
“no, i don’t.”
“you absolutely do.”
“you are making stuff up now.”
“am i?”
manon glared at her, but the look fell apart halfway through because megan was staring at her with that stupid soft expression, and it was making her feel like someone had put her in a pressure cooker.
“you’re acting like a psycho,” manon said.
“and you’re acting like you’re not interested.”
manon’s breath caught.
megan’s face changed immediately, like she realized she had gone too far, but instead of stepping back, she stayed where she was.
“i mean,” megan said, quieter now, “if you’re not, then that’s fine.”
manon stared at her.
“what?” she said.
megan shrugged in a way that did not fool anyone. “nothing.”
“no, don’t do that. you keep saying nothing, but you keep saying things.”
“yeah, because i’m clearly bad at shutting up around you.”
“why.”
megan let out a breath through her nose. “because you make me nervous.”
manon’s whole face blanked.
that, more than anything else, shut her up.
megan looked at the floor for half a second, then back up, jaw tight like she was bracing herself. “there. i said it. happy?”
manon stared.
then, because her brain was still a windows error screen, she said the first thing that came to mind. “you? nervous?”
“yes, unfortunately.”
“that’s insane.”
“i know.”
“why?”
megan looked at her like she had asked the dumbest question in human history. “because i like you, manon.”
and there it was.
full stop.
no escape hatch. no joke. no room to pretend.
just the fact of it, dropped right into the middle of the kitchen like a glass breaking on tile.
manon’s mouth opened.
then closed.
then opened again, which honestly did not help.
“you what.”
megan looked almost annoyed now, which was probably self-defense. “i like you.”
“as in, like, like?”
megan’s eyebrows shot up. “oh my god. yes, genius.”
manon made a sound that was half laugh, half panic attack. “no way.”
“what do you mean no way?”
“you like me.”
“yes.”
“that is absurd.”
“why?”
“because you’re you.”
megan stared at her. “that is not an explanation.”
“you’re hot.”
“thanks.”
“you’re smart.”
“also true.”
“you’re, like, cool.”
“okay.”
“you have options.”
megan went deadpan. “you say that like i’m shopping for a luxury car.”
“you are literally pretty enough to be in a luxury car.”
megan snorted so hard she almost choked on air.
manon immediately wanted to crawl into a hole and live there forever. “i hate it here.”
“no, you don’t.”
“shut up.”
“you’re adorable when you freak out.”
“don’t call me adorable.”
“you’re doing it again.”
“doing what.”
“getting all red.”
manon covered her face with both hands. “this is so embarrassing.”
“for me too,” megan admitted, and the honesty in it made manon look up again. “you think it’s easy saying that to your face?”
“you’re the one who said it.”
“yeah, because i was trying really hard not to die.”
manon’s throat felt weird. “you could’ve kept flirting forever.”
megan blinked. “what?”
“nothing.”
“no, say it.”
manon made a noise of pure suffering. “i said you could’ve just kept flirting and i would’ve… i don’t know, eventually noticed.”
megan stared at her for a full second.
then she laughed.
not because it was funny exactly. more because it was so absurdly manon that there was no other option.
“you are unbelievable,” megan said, wiping at one eye. “i literally kissed the air around you for like forty minutes and you still thought i was just being annoying.”
manon felt her face go nuclear. “you were not kissing the air around me.”
“i was emotionally kissing you with every sentence.”
“that is disgusting.”
“and yet.”
manon leaned back against the counter, dazed. “you like me.”
“yes.”
“like for real.”
“yes.”
“why.”
megan laughed in disbelief. “oh my god, are you serious.”
“yes.”
“because you’re funny.”
“i’m not.”
“you are.”
“i’m not.”
“because you’re sarcastic.”
“that’s not a real trait..or a good one.”
“because you look at people like you’re deciding whether they’re worth your time, which is hot, by the way.”
manon nearly broke. “why are you saying that like it’s a normal sentence.”
“because it is one.”
“it is not.”
“it is to me.”
manon was quiet.
megan’s voice softened again. “because you’re honest even when it’s annoying. because you pretend not to care, but you care way too much. because you do that thing where you act all tough and then immediately turn into a goat when someone compliments you.”
manon stared at her. “a goat.”
“yeah. like, all flustered and offended.”
“that is not what goats do.”
“whatever, i’m having a moment.”
“you’re insane.”
“again, yes.”
manon looked at her for a long moment, trying desperately to keep her face from betraying her. this should have felt impossible. this should have felt like a prank. like some kind of extremely elaborate humiliation scenario dreamed up by a cruel god.
instead it felt real.
too real.
megan stood there in her stupid cute jacket, holding a packet of chips like she had just confessed to a felony, and looked at manon like she was waiting to get rejected. the idea of that made manon’s chest ache.
“you really mean it,” manon said quietly.
megan’s shoulders dropped a fraction. “yeah.”
“you’re not messing with me.”
“manon, i swear to god.”
manon swallowed. “okay.”
“okay?”
“i’m processing.”
“you’ve been processing for a century.”
“well, you dropped a bomb in my kitchen.”
megan laughed. “fair.”
manon dragged a hand through her hair and looked away. “i just don’t get it.”
that stopped megan’s smile.
“what don’t you get.”
manon shrugged, suddenly unable to look directly at her. “you. me. all of this. you’re you. and i’m… me.”
“and?”
manon let out a breath, frustrated now, with herself this time. “and i don’t know why you’d like someone like me.”
the room went very still.
megan’s expression softened into something almost heartbreaking.
“manon,” she said, and her voice was so quiet now it made manon look up. “why would you say that?”
“because it’s true.”
“no, it’s not.”
“yes, it is.”
“it’s literally not.”
manon laughed once, short and bitter. “be serious.”
“i am being serious.”
“you could have anybody.”
“i don’t want anybody.”
manon’s heart stumbled hard. “megan.”
“what?”
“don’t say stuff like that if you don’t mean it.”
megan took a step closer. “i mean it.”
manon’s brain, which had barely returned to the building, tried to set itself on fire again.
“you’re lying,” she said weakly.
“i’m not.”
“this makes no sense.”
“maybe you’re just really bad at believing good things.”
manon opened her mouth to argue.
nothing came out.
because there it was. the actual problem. not the flirty jokes or the insane timing or the fact that megan skiendiel had somehow wandered into her bedroom and then her kitchen and then her entire emotional stability. the problem was that manon had spent so long assuming she was the sort of person people tolerated that the idea of being wanted by someone like megan felt like a glitch in the matrix.
“i don’t know how to do this,” manon muttered.
megan’s face shifted, something relieved and tender flashing through it. “good.”
manon frowned. “good?”
“yeah,” megan said, smiling now with obvious affection. “because i was gonna be furious if you acted normal about this.”
manon let out a bark of laughter despite herself. “you’re such a dick.”
“and yet.”
“and yet what.”
“you’re still looking at me like you want to kiss me.”
manon went instantly silent.
megan went very, very still.
the air between them turned electric.
“i do not,” manon said, which was a complete lie and they both knew it.
megan’s eyes dropped to her mouth again.
then she looked back up. “yeah?”
manon swallowed. “yeah.”
“cool.”
“cool.”
“okay.”
“okay.”
neither of them moved.
the whole kitchen had become too small for their breathing.
megan’s hand, still holding the crisps, lowered slowly to her side. “manon.”
“what.”
“can i?”
manon’s heart did something fundamentally rude.
“can you what.”
megan smiled just a little, all confidence stripped down to the bone. “kiss you.”
manon should have said something smart. something sarcastic. something with a little more dignity than whatever was about to happen to her pride.
instead she said, “yeah.”
that was all it took.
megan closed the space between them in one step, one careful, deliberate step, like she was making sure manon had every chance to change her mind. she didn’t. manon’s body was already in some kind of stunned surrender, every nerve in her skin lighting up like somebody had pulled a switch.
megan’s free hand came up to manon’s jaw, warm and gentle, and manon forgot how oxygen worked.
the kiss was not dramatic in the movie sense. there was no thunderclap. no sudden violin music. no impossible slow-motion spin while confetti fell from the ceiling.
it was better than that.
it was soft at first, uncertain for half a second, then real in a way that made manon’s knees go loose. megan tasted like coffee and mint and the kind of confidence that was only pretending not to be terrified. manon made a tiny sound into the kiss that she would never recover from, and megan kissed her once more, slower this time, as if checking in, as if asking without words if she was okay.
manon kissed her back before her brain could get in the way.
and god, that was worse.
because once she started, she could not stop thinking about everything at once. about how warm megan’s hand was, about how she was smiling against her mouth, about how this was actually happening in the kitchen next to a packet of stale biscuits and a plate with a half-eaten apple on it. about how megan skiendiel was kissing her like she had wanted to for a while now.
when they finally pulled apart, it was only because they had to breathe.
megan kept her forehead close for one second longer, eyes half-lidded, breath shaky, and then she looked at manon.
manon looked back.
and then her entire face collapsed.
“oh my god,” she said, voice wrecked. “oh my fucking god.”
megan laughed breathlessly. “yeah?”
manon stepped back two paces like her body had received a software update and was not handling it well. she touched her mouth with two fingers, scandalized. “you just kissed me.”
megan’s eyes sparkled. “i know.”
“why did you do that.”
“because i like you.”
manon stared at her, horrified and delighted and panicking all at the same time. “no, like, actually.”
“actually because i like you.”
“that’s not fair.”
“what part isn’t fair?”
“all of it.”
megan laughed again, fuller this time, and leaned back against the counter with the smugness of a person who had just detonated manon’s entire universe and was now enjoying the view.
“you look like your brain is blue-screening,” she said.
manon dragged both hands down her face. “i am fully having a moment.”
“good moment or bad moment?”
manon looked at her.
then looked at the floor.
then back at her.
“i don’t know.”
megan’s smile softened immediately. “okay.”
“no, don’t say okay like that.”
“like what?”
“like you’re being sweet.”
“i can be sweet.”
“that is alarming.”
megan laughed. “you’re impossible.”
“you keep saying that like it’s new information.”
“it is new information every time you kiss me.”
manon made a choked sound. “don’t.”
“don’t what?”
“say it like that.”
“like what?”
“like you’re asking for trouble.”
megan’s eyebrows rose. “aren’t i?”
manon glared at her weakly. “you’re so irritating.”
“you like me.”
manon opened her mouth.
closed it.
looked away.
looked back.
“i might.”
megan’s face lit up in a way so immediate and so stupidly genuine that manon’s stomach did a cartwheel. “might?”
“don’t get excited.”
“too late.”
“you are actually unbearable.”
“and you kissed me back.”
“because you kissed me first.”
“yeah, and it was a good decision.”
“you are so smug.”
“because i’m right.”
manon laughed despite herself, then covered her mouth like that might somehow undo the fact that she was smiling. “this is insane.”
“agreed.”
“i thought you hated me.”
megan blinked. “what?”
“at first.”
“why would you think that?”
“because you kept acting weird.”
“i was flirting.”
“well, i didn’t know that.”
“yeah, i noticed.”
manon pointed at her. “you’re not allowed to use my own stupidity against me.”
“i absolutely am.”
manon shook her head, helplessly amused now, the embarrassment slowly giving way to something warmer, something dangerous and bright. “you really like me.”
megan’s expression changed again, going honest in a way that made manon want to behave badly. “yeah.”
“why are you so calm about it now.”
“i’m not calm.”
“you look calm.”
“that’s because i’m trying not to scream.”
manon laughed. “oh my god.”
megan pushed off the counter and stepped closer again, not touching this time, just near enough that manon could feel her. “you said i could kiss you.”
manon’s eyes widened. “yeah.”
“and you kissed me back.”
“yeah.”
“so are we, like,” megan paused, searching manon’s face with an almost careful intensity, “good?”
manon’s chest tightened. god, that was unfair. not because the question was hard. because it was so obviously important. because megan was suddenly not joking anymore, not hiding behind the sass or the swagger, and manon could see how much it mattered to her to not mess this up.
manon was not good at being sincere. it was one of her many flaws.
she swallowed, then gave a tiny nod. “yeah.”
megan smiled, slow and relieved. “yeah?”
“yeah.”
“cool.”
“cool.”
“very cool.”
“shut up.”
megan grinned. “make me.”
manon snorted. “you are asking for it.”
“i’m asking for you to stop looking at me like i’m about to evaporate.”
manon’s face softened before she could stop it. “sorry.”
megan looked almost startled by the apology. “don’t be.”
“i just,” manon exhaled, glancing down and then back up, “i don’t know what to do now.”
megan’s expression went tender in a way that should have been illegal in a kitchen full of stale snacks.
“we can keep doing the project,” she said. “or not. depending on whether you still want to fail english.”
manon laughed. “i hate you.”
“no you don’t.”
“a little bit.”
“lies.”
“you’re annoying.”
megan reached out, barely brushing her fingers against manon’s wrist, and the touch was so light it almost made manon furious. almost.
“we can go slow,” megan said. “if you want.”
manon looked at her.
there was no joke in her eyes now. just patience. just interest. just that same impossible softness.
manon had spent so much of her life expecting to be the joke, the punchline, the afterthought. she did not know what to do with a person looking at her like this. like she was the thing worth staying for.
“you’re really weird,” manon said quietly.
megan huffed a laugh. “you’ve said that like twelve times.”
“it’s true.”
“you like it.”
manon rolled her eyes, but there was no bite in it now. “maybe a little.”
megan’s smile turned triumphant and stupidly fond all at once. “there she is.”
“there who is.”
“you. the one with the huge ego and the very obvious crush.”
manon nearly died on the spot. “i do not have a crush.”
“manon.”
“what.”
“you literally kissed me back.”
“i was emotionally compromised.”
“you were very into it.”
“shut the hell up.”
“make me.”
manon looked at her for one long beat, then stepped forward and grabbed the front of megan’s jacket just enough to tug her closer.
megan’s eyes widened.
manon leaned in and kissed her again, quick this time, a little bolder, a little more sure.
when she pulled back, megan was looking at her like manon had just handed her the moon.
manon’s stomach flipped.
“okay,” she said, trying to sound normal and failing miserably. “maybe i do like you.”
megan’s smile was immediate, bright enough to light the whole room. “yeah?”
manon rolled her eyes so hard it was basically a prayer. “don’t make it weird.”
“too late.”
“you are so fucking annoying.”
megan laughed and kissed her forehead this time, which was somehow worse because it made manon go still in a completely different way.
“come on,” megan said, voice warm with laughter and something softer beneath it. “let’s finish the essay, pretty girl.”
manon made a noise of horror. “don’t call me that.”
megan, fully unrepentant, tucked the packet of crisps under one arm and walked back toward manon’s room like she lived there.
“you can kiss me again if you behave.”
manon followed her, shaking her head and smiling despite herself. “you’re disgusting.”
“you’re blushing again.”
“i hate you.”
“no you don’t.”
“i’m absolutely going to pretend you didn’t just say pretty girl.”
“impossible. it was beautiful.”
“you’re not funny.”
“i’m actually hilarious.”
“you’re lucky i’m obsessed with english right now.”
megan stopped at the doorway and looked over her shoulder with one of those lethal little smiles. “obsessed with english, huh?”
manon groaned into her hands. “oh my god.”
“what?”
“nothing.”
“you’re lying.”
“i’m going to throw my laptop at you.”
“worth it.”
they made it back to manon’s room with the kind of awkward giddiness that made everything feel slightly uncoordinated. manon nearly tripped over her own shoes. megan laughed so hard she had to put a hand on the doorframe. at some point, manon ended up shoving the last of the project notes into megan’s hands while muttering about how none of this was real and she was probably hallucinating.
“for the record,” megan said as she sat back down on the bed, “you’re kind of cute when you’re in shock.”
manon dropped onto the chair across from her and pointed a threatening finger. “if you keep flirting, i’m not going to finish this paper.”
megan’s eyes gleamed. “that sounds like a challenge.”
“it is not.”
“you sure?”
“i’m going to scream.”
“hot.”
manon buried her face in her hands again, but she was laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
megan watched her for a second, then let her own grin go softer, more private.
“you know,” she said, tapping the end of her pen against the notebook, “i really did think you hated me.”
manon lowered her hands. “i did not hate you.”
“you were close.”
“i was normal.”
“you threw a highlighter at me.”
“you deserved it.”
“for what, existing?”
“for being arrogant.”
megan nodded slowly. “fair.”
“and for saying babe.”
megan laughed. “you’ve been obsessed with that all day.”
“because it was insane.”
“was it?”
“yes.”
“good.”
manon stared. “good?”
“yeah,” megan said, smile turning sly again. “means it worked.”
manon groaned. “you’re evil.”
“and you like me.”
manon pointed at her again, but this time she was smiling too wide to be convincing. “i am not answering that.”
“that’s a yes.”
“shut up.”
“make me.”
manon picked up the nearest pillow and hurled it at her. megan caught it, laughed, and tossed it right back, and suddenly the whole room was a disaster again, both of them laughing too hard to pretend this was still about english.
the paper got finished eventually. somehow. badly at first, then better once megan stopped making kissy faces across the bed and manon threatened to delete her contributions if she kept being a menace. they argued over one quote for fifteen minutes. megan stole half the biscuits and claimed the stale taste was “character development.” manon made her type the final paragraph because she was still suspicious of her own ability to function.
at one point, while manon was reading the final draft aloud, megan sat in her bed and watched her with this expression so open it made manon stumble over a sentence. when she noticed, she glared.
“what.”
“nothing,” megan said.
“why are you looking at me like that.”
“like what.”
“like you’re being weird again.”
“maybe i just like hearing you talk.”
manon stopped reading.
megan’s expression turned innocent so fast it should have been physically impossible.
“you’re doing that on purpose,” manon said.
“doing what.”
“trying to make me short-circuit.”
“am i succeeding?”
manon opened her mouth, then closed it.
megan laughed, delighted with herself. “yeah, thought so.”
manon shook her head and went back to the essay, muttering under her breath about how she was never letting megan into her room again, which was a lie and they both knew it. by the time the work was done, the sky outside had gone dark blue and the bedroom lights had been switched on, casting everything in a soft yellow glow that made the whole place feel weirdly intimate.
manon saved the file and collapsed back into her chair. “done.”
megan leaned over her laptop screen. “holy shit, we’re actually done.”
“because of me.”
“because of my genius.”
“because i threatened your life.”
“also valid.”
manon laughed, exhausted. “i can’t believe this happened.”
“what, the essay or the kissing?”
manon whipped her head around. “megan.”
megan’s grin was pure trouble. “what? i’m just asking.”
“you are impossible.”
“you keep saying that.”
“because it’s true.”
megan tilted her head, studying her for a second, and the teasing faded back into something quieter.
“you okay?” she asked.
manon looked at her.
then at her messy room.
then at the saved document on the screen.
then back at megan, who looked annoyingly gorgeous in a way that should have been banned by law.
“yeah,” manon said.
megan held her gaze. “yeah?”
manon swallowed and nodded. “yeah.”
megan smiled, and this time it was so soft that manon’s heart nearly failed out of sheer embarrassment. “good.”
“you’re smiling like a creep.”
“you kissed me first.”
“because you ambushed me.”
“you liked it.”
manon’s face went hot again. “i’m going to sue you.”
“for what?”
“emotional damages.”
“you’ll lose.”
“why.”
“because you’re also into me.”
manon stared at her for one agonizing second, then gave in to the absolute inevitability of this disaster and covered her face with a pillow.
megan laughed so hard she nearly fell off the bed.
“you’re never going to let me live this down, are you,” manon said into the pillow.
“absolutely not.”
“you’re evil.”
“and you like me.”
manon groaned, but there was no denying the smile in her voice now. “yeah. okay. whatever.”
megan’s laughter softened into something warm and real. she reached over, took the pillow away with one hand, and leaned in just enough to bump her forehead lightly against manon’s.
“for the record,” she said quietly, “i really do like you.”
manon looked at her, no jokes left in her for once.
then she huffed a tiny laugh, shaky and embarrassed and honest. “yeah. i gathered.”
megan’s eyes sparkled. “cool.”
“cool.”
“very cool.”
“you’re such a dick.”
“and you kissed me.”
manon stared at her for one beat.
then she smiled, helplessly, and leaned in again.
this time, when megan kissed her back, they both laughed into it.
and honestly?
it was kind of perfect.
not neat. not smooth. not even remotely normal.
but perfect anyway.
because manon was still a loser, technically. still messy, still sarcastic, still the kind of person who got caught off guard by basic human kindness and immediately wanted to set something on fire.
and megan was still megan. still hot, still sassy, still way too good at flirting for someone who pretended she wasn’t trying.
but now when she looked at manon, it wasn’t like she was joking.
now it was like she was choosing her on purpose.
and that was somehow even more terrifying.
manon pulled back first this time, just enough to breathe, and gave megan a look that was equal parts disbelief and affection and pure exhaustion.
“you’re not allowed to act like this is normal,” she said.
megan smiled. “too late.”
“unbelievable.”
“you like me.”
manon rolled her eyes, but she was laughing now, and she stayed exactly where she was.
“yeah,” she said. “i do.”
megan’s whole face lit up like she had just won the lottery.
and manon, despite everything in the world telling her not to, smiled back.
