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Megan had been the second person Sophia had pulled aside to tell her that management would be announcing that she was taking a break. Yoonchae was first. But for some reason, Sophia felt this pull that she had to tell Megan. The two weren't even that close. Still.
Sophia has Katseye’s schedule on her phone. She sometimes pulls it up, just to look. They come back from New York today; they’re flying out of Newark. Sophia doesn’t have access to the flight numbers anymore. It makes her frown a little. She doesn’t particularly enjoy not knowing. What she does know, at least, is that the girls are in flight right now. In for the six-hour nonstop flight. Sophia hopes they’re resting — the 1 a.m. wake-up time for the TODAY Show certainly was brutal.
She doesn’t watch the performance — she struggles to watch performances with four of them. Sophia lies and tells them they did amazing in the group chat. Because she can’t watch — why does she deserve to have space held for her? Both watching and not watching are two bad options, in her opinion. Maybe she should watch at least one.
So maybe that’s why she feels like it’s safe and okay to text Megan. There won’t be an immediate response. No immediate ‘let’s go now.’ So she texts Megan a hasty: ‘want to go for a drive?’ It’s the first thing she’s texted since a ‘can we talk?’ which, in retrospect, was quite an evil thing to send. It probably made Megan spiral. That thought alone makes guilt swim in Sophia's head all over again. But she can’t assume how Megan’s feeling — she’s trying to be better about the whole assuming thing. Her therapist says that it’s okay for things to be out of her control.
Sophia puts her phone back on her nightstand and drags the heels of her hands over her eyes, rubbing at them until spots begin to dance in her vision. She hates feeling like this. Feeling immobile. It’s like her brain doesn’t know how to take a break, even if it has been mandated. Her body is beginning to relax and learn how to heal itself after years without a break, but her mind is a different story. It still races at night. It still races during the day. It just can’t shut off.
Sophia picks her phone back up, an impulse. There are four hours until the girls land in L.A., maybe longer if their flight had been delayed. She stares at the time. There are 2,000 miles between her and them. And even when they are something like 20 miles apart, it still feels the same. That same gnawing feeling that she should be in the same room as them. But she can’t. Her brain is too tired. And she can’t do anything except want to sleep and be unable to.
Sophia rolls over in her bed and brings her blanket closer to her body, scrunching it up into a ball so she feels like she’s holding another person. She squeezes it against her chest. She tries to count sheep, just to direct her mind toward something that isn’t an ongoing slow torture of punishing herself for a break she couldn’t delay any longer.
Sophia wakes up to her phone dinging twice. She doesn’t remember falling asleep. Both texts are Megan. She grabs her phone and lets out a gasp when she sees what time it is — she fell asleep for four hours in the middle of the day? What’s wrong with her?
She opens Megan’s texts. It’s nothing much, just a “yeah, sure!” and “i can come @ 7?” Sophia’s a little grateful that Megan chose a time for her. She probably would’ve pushed it to tomorrow, using the whole they’ve been up since 1 a.m. thing. Then probably pushed it indefinitely, if she’s being honest with herself. Sophia likes Megan’s last message, and puts her phone back down. It’s only two more hours until Megan will be downstairs.
Sophia looks at her reflection in the mirror for so long that it begins to distort right in front of her. She blinks a couple of times, just to bring herself back into her body. She grabs her tube of Aquaphor — almost empty — and runs her thumb over the gems she stuck on when she bought it. Her finger gets stuck on a sticky spot from where Lara had plucked off a gemstone for a makeshift bindi. Sophia smiles to herself. She misses her girls. She squeezes Aquaphor onto her index finger, and then carefully rubs it over her lips until they are sufficiently shiny. Sophia smacks her lips together a couple of times for good measure.
She checks the time on her phone, then sets it back down. She’s doing well on time. Sophia forces herself to breathe. She orders what she has left to do before Megan arrives in her head in a neat list: choose an outfit, do her hair, find a mask and cap, find her wallet. Thankfully, all manageable tasks. She chooses a simple outfit for herself — a white T-shirt and jeans, straightens her hair, puts a mask on her wrist and a black cap on (she almost reaches for the one with the Katseye logo on it, but that defeats her goal of going incognito), and checks that her wallet has all her cards in it.
Her phone dings; it’s Megan. Sophia smiles. She grabs her keys and heads downstairs.
Megan manages to find a parking spot right in front of Sophia’s apartment — Sophia’s not sure if the parking is 100% legal. But it doesn’t matter much, anyway, since Megan will only be there for a couple of minutes at the most. Megan rolls down the passenger side window and waves aggressively. Her jade bracelet slides down her wrist with the action.
The first time Sophia tries the door, it’s locked. Megan mumbles “shit” to herself and unlocks it. Then Sophia gets in and puts her “mom” bag at her feet. She inhales, then turns to Megan.
“Hi,” Sophia greets. Megan’s playing the My Everything album, which makes Sophia smile to herself. It isn’t the kind of music that Megan usually plays in her car. She usually prefers something poppy, energetic, something to keep her awake. Sophia has a feeling it was an intentional gesture by Megan.
“Hey,” Megan says. She switches the car from parking to reverse. Sophia’s quiet while Megan maneuvers her way out of the parking space. Once they’re on the road, Megan turns her head slightly toward Sophia. Sophia can’t read her expression underneath her sort of alien-like sunglasses, which sucks. “Want ice cream? I’m craving it.”
Sophia perks up at that. “Oh, yeah. I’m down.”
Megan grins, whisker dimples appearing on the tops of her cheeks before they disappear again. “Great.” She merges onto the interstate. “I was thinking that place we used to go to during training? Between classes.”
“Sounds good,” Sophia replies. She doesn’t remember what the place is called, but she hopes Megan does. She remembers liking the ice cream, liking getting to escape in the middle of twelve-hour days. “How was the flight?” She asks. Small talk is safe.
“Long,” Megan sighs. She runs a hand through her hair, ruffling the bleached zigzags. Sophia averts her gaze back to the road. “But like I slept for most of it, so it felt short-ish. It was rough today, like, it felt like forever.”
“I get it,” Sophia says. And she does. She can’t sleep in airports like the others; she prefers to keep an eye on them. Even though, realistically, she knows one of their managers would shake them awake. She likes being the one to keep an eye out, though. “How was the Today Show?”
“Early,” Megan quips. She passes a car as she says it. She’s good at driving, Sophia thinks. She doesn’t have the impulsiveness that Dani does when she drives. Sophia’s not sure how Megan got the bad driver of the group reputation. “And like Hootie Frutti was fun, but we have to change some of the choreo. The head-banging stuff? Looks stupid. Twitter fucking hates it. And I think Lara’s gonna hurt her neck more.”
Sophia rubs her hand against her jeans, feeling how it scrapes slightly against her palm. She doesn’t comment on how Megan should stay off social media for this stuff, how the crowd in front of them matters more than the noise online, because she knows Megan knows that.
“I think it’s worth talking to Grant and Sohey,” Sophia says. She looks at Megan. “Or asking Lara to do it.”
That makes Megan laugh. “We’ll see,” she says instead, noncommittally.
Megan pulls into a strip mall, where Sophia recognizes the ice cream shop. She gets a parking spot right in front, lucky parking day for Megan. Megan pulls a baseball cap on — the one with pink cursive lettering that says “Santa Monica” and puts a mask on. She understands the need to be incognito just as much as Sophia does. Even though Sophia doubts anyone will recognize them here. Even if they were “caught,” what would the headline even be? “KATSEYE’s Megan and Sophia Seen Eating Ice Cream Amid Sophia Hiatus.” Maybe that.
The moment Sophia opens the door for Megan, the nostalgic smell of fresh waffle cones and a hint of bleach hits her. She wrinkles her nose. Megan walks ahead of her and walks straight to the glass. She orders one scoop of strawberry in a cup, and Sophia gets one scoop of chocolate in a waffle cone. Sophia’s pleasantly surprised by the price, on the cheaper side for Los Angeles, and taps her phone before Megan even pulls it out of her jeans pocket. Megan elbows her; Sophia just nudges her with her shoulder back.
The two head outside, back to Megan’s car to eat. Megan pulls the car out of the original parking spot to be on the far end of the strip mall, as far away from people as possible. She takes off her sunglasses, placing them on the brim of her cap, and slides off her mask with an exhale.
“You know in New York, Froyo is, like, a thing again?” Megan remarks, her sentence intermittently broken by her taking bites of her ice cream. She eats with her teeth. It makes Sophia cringe a little; she feels the chill in her own front two teeth.
“Really?” Sophia asks anyway, entertaining it. She licks her ice cream and hums in delight.
“Yeah! People were in this long-ass line down the block, and I was like: 'wait, is there a popup or something?' And Lara was like, ‘No, it’s froyo,’ and Dani was like, ‘Really?’” Megan makes an impression of how Dani’s voice squeaks slightly on questions or when she’s surprised. It’s really accurate, so accurate that it makes Sophia laugh — it even surprises her — and it makes Megan start to giggle too. It feels good to laugh again.
Sophia’s ice cream begins to melt down the waffle cone, reaching her fingertips. Sophia licks between her fingers and glances at Megan, who has transitioned into a story about the brutal 1 a.m. wakeup time. They make eye contact, and Sophia’s pretty sure she’s imagining Megan’s cheeks going pink.
“How was your day?” Megan asks when she’s done. She leans over Sophia and pops open her glove box. She takes out a wad of napkins with a variety of different logos on them and hands them to Sophia, which Sophia gratefully accepts.
Sophia wipes her fingers, cringing at how sticky they are already. “Um, you know, just taking care of myself,” she says. It feels PR-approved. She looks at Megan, who visibly seems dissatisfied with the answer. Sophia clears her throat and tries again. “I didn’t really sleep at night, then I slept through most of the day. Which was… weird. But now I’m here.”
Megan nods at the real answer — doesn’t gloat about how she managed to get a version of Sophia beyond the media training. It’s quiet for a second, and Sophia really doesn’t like silence. She tries to focus on “You Don’t Know Me,” the last song of the album as it plays
“Um, Sophia?” Megan says. She looks worried, brows creased up. It’s always been easy for Sophia to read Megan. That’s something she really loves about her — that Megan is always just Megan.
“Yeah?” Sophia asks; she keeps a careful eye trained on Megan’s expression.
“Why didn’t you ask Lara? To, like, see you?” Megan mumbles; the words come out so quickly that it sounds like Megan barely finishes one word before she moves on to the next.
Sophia’s honestly not sure what to say to that. She doesn’t know the answer herself. Well, maybe she does. Megan used to always drive her and Yoonchae back home at rehearsal, and then eventually just Sophia. It’s where the two did the bulk of their bonding time. Sophia misses it.
“Should I have?” Sophia asks.
“No, no,” Megan says quickly, voice spiking in pitch. “Fuck, Sophia, no. I’m glad you asked me. I was just surprised.”
“Oh,” Sophia breathes. She sinks a little more into Megan’s leather seats. She stares straight ahead. The sun is beginning to dip into the horizon — golden hour. “Um, did you tell the others?”
“About this?” Megan asks. Sophia nods. Megan’s eyes widen a bit as she looks up at nothing — the habit she has when she’s thinking. It makes Sophia’s lip almost twitch into a smile. Then Megan’s eyes flick back down to Sophia, and her face scrunches up just a bit. “Was I supposed to?”
“No!” Sophia interjects quickly, her voice a little louder than she intended it to come out. She clears her throat, trying to play off that urgency. “No, I’m glad you didn't. Actually, can this stay between us?”
“Yeah, of course,” Megan agrees. “I’m, um, glad you asked me.”
Sophia smiles at Megan. “I’m glad I did too,” she says. She likes this, being honest with Megan. They’re like the tide rising and falling toward each other until they meet in the middle. Right now it’s low tide, and Megan’s right there with Sophia.
Sophia finishes her ice cream and leans down into her bag to pull out hand sanitizer. She sprays some on her hands, and when she turns to offer some to Megan, Megan is already waiting with her hands cupped. Sophia obliges, and Megan rubs her hands together.
“Want me to bring you home?” Megan asks. She looks a little tired, her blinks getting slower and slower.
Sophia selfishly wants to ask to spend more time with Megan — to drive around aimlessly with the windows down while Megan blasts a song that Sophia has never heard of.
Instead, she nods and says, “Yeah.”
The My Everything album finishes and gives way to Megan’s usual driving playlist. Megan turns it down a little, unusual for her.
“What are you doing after this?” Sophia asks.
“Honestly? Going to bed,” Megan replies. She pulls back onto the interstate, pressing down on the pedal until she matches the speed of all the other cars, also going ten over the speed limit. “We have 9 a.m. rehearsal tomorrow, but it’s only six hours, so, like, that’s good.”
Sophia hums in agreement. She remembers their double-digit rehearsal days. It’s a relief to hear they are cut in half. Something in her brain whispers that they’re cut down because she isn’t there anymore to weigh them down, but she tries to shove it away. She knows that’s not the case, realistically.
“Can we do this again sometime?” Sophia asks, once she can tell they’re getting close to her place.
They’re at a stoplight; the sun has since dipped beyond the horizon. And Megan turns to look at her. She’s surprised, and her eyes look like the stars have been trapped inside of them. “Of course,” Megan says, like it was a stupid question for Sophia to ask.
Megan’s less lucky with parking this time, and she has to pull up in front and put her hazards on. Cars pass around her while honking, but she doesn’t look bothered.
“Thanks for this,” Sophia says. And Megan smiles.
Sophia wants to invite Megan up into her apartment — but it’s really such a mess. She hasn’t been diligent about cleaning. About anything, really. She’s not sure if she’s ready to show Megan that side of her. But Megan doesn’t push. She just sort of smiles in a lopsided way and waves. She just says see you later and doesn’t put a time on it. There’s no pressure, no expectation. That grace alone feels like something Sophia doesn’t deserve.
Sophia really didn’t want to remember the fact that Daniela, Lara, Megan, and Yoonchae sang “I Won't Say I'm in Love” in front of Susan Egan without her. But, obviously, it’s everywhere. Her feed on TikTok — which she really should delete — is immediately flooded with videos of it. She indulges herself. She’s so proud of them, but the guilt that she should be there eats at her immediately. If she listens hard enough, she can hear herself in the backtrack being drowned out as they harmonize.
Sophia opens the comments, and everyone is saying that it feels illegal that Sophia isn’t there and that she would’ve loved it. She closes the comment section and stares at Megan as she sings the last line — at least out loud, I won't say I'm in love — and she looks and sounds beautiful.
She opens the group chat with the five of them; it’s stayed pretty active with Lara sending reels and stream-of-consciousness life updates, and texts a congratulations.
Megan texts her separately, immediately, and asks if she can drop something off at Sophia’s. Sophia frowns a little. She asks what, and Megan insists it’s a surprise. Sophia doesn’t really like surprises. Still, she wants to see Megan, so she agrees.
Sophia meets Megan at her car, and she’s starting to enjoy the routine of Megan waving aggressively at her from the driver’s side. She slides into the car, enjoying the fact that even though it is, well, Megan’s car, it still feels like this safe, third space for her.
Megan’s still in her makeup from the performance; her eyelids are shiny with gold glitter, but her hair is down now. It makes Sophia feel completely underprepared — all she has on is Aquaphor. She should’ve expected this.
“Hi Sophia,” Megan says; her voice is a little hoarse. It makes Sophia frown. She’s about to comment on it when Megan pops her console open and begins to rummage through it. Then she pulls out her purse and pulls out three stickers, presenting them to Sophia. “Here. An Eyekon gave it to Lara to give to us, and I thought you’d want them.”
Sophia takes them gently from Megan’s hands as if they are made of glass and not paper. They’re little designs of suns and rainbows. There’s one that says “it’s okay to take a break” atop a sleeping panda. Sophia runs her thumb over its face and smiles at it.
“Thank you,” she mumbles. She glances up at Megan, who still has her eyes on the stickers with a smile on her face. “You didn’t have to bring these to me, seriously.”
Megan just shrugs. She taps on her steering wheel a couple of times. “Do you want to go for a drive? We don’t have to go anywhere, just, like, drive around. If you want to.”
“That’d be nice,” Sophia replies. She buckles herself in. She watches as Megan queues up music — Sophia doesn’t recognize the artist, but it’s catchy, poppy. She appreciates how Megan has this knack for finding things that go overlooked by others.
Sophia rubs her thumb against the smooth, shiny part of the stick a couple of times. “I’ll be back in September,” she says, mostly to herself.
“You know it’s okay if you aren’t,” Megan says. She pulls onto the interstate and presses down on the accelerator; Sophia’s body jerks slightly with the movement.
“What?” Sophia breathes. She feels frozen. Does Megan not want her there? Do the others feel the same? That Sophia doesn’t need to be there?
Megan glances at Sophia sideways and frowns a little. “Like, if you want to come back, that’s great, but also if you’re not ready, resting isn’t a bad thing.”
“Are you resting?” Sophia asks, accusation in her tone.
“I’m not doing the fansigns tomorrow,” Megan snaps back. “Are you happy to hear that?”
Sophia shrinks back into her seat. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. She looks out the window. It’s dark outside; she doesn’t know why Megan likes night driving. She wants to understand, though. “I’m not happy to hear that, obviously. But I’m glad you’re resting.”
“Thanks,” Megan mumbles.
The silence is tense for a while; it feels suffocating. Sophia usually isn’t on the receiving end of Megan lashing out; she’s usually the person that people go to when it happens — whether it be Megan herself or the recipient.
“I appreciate that you said that, though,” Sophia confesses.
“It’s true,” Megan says like it’s that simple. “We’ll be here.”
Sophia lets herself stare at Megan’s side profile. Her eyelashes are long, accentuated by high-grade mascara. Her lips pout out slightly. Sophia wants to kiss Megan, which is somehow the scariest intrusive thought she’s had in months.
Sophia’s never liked a girl before. She knows Megan has.
She remembers during training when Megan’s first girlfriend dumped her, and Megan came into practice the next day looking like a kicked puppy. They were all so young back then. Hearts soft and untested. Sophia had to ask Lara what was up, and that’s how Sophia found out. Sophia gave Lara a ten-dollar bill and told Lara to go buy Megan something.
Sophia didn’t think about anything, really, back then. She was all too driven by a singular purpose: to debut. Everything felt temporary, and she spent more nights alone than with people. It was lonely, but it paid off.
Now, they’re all so much older. They’ve been through so much, all six of them. She can’t think about it without feeling like the tightly wound thread that holds her together is about to unravel, leaving her in pieces. It feels like ten years have passed since training. So much, too much has happened.
Sophia’s terrified of liking Megan; the sheer thought of it makes something panicky flutter in her chest. She feels like she can’t even tell her therapist. She knows her therapist is bound by, like, ethics and also a tight NDA. Logically, it’d be really good to talk through these feelings with someone, but she can see the headlines and feel the judgment, and she’s still not certain, so instead she journals. She writes down everything she’s feeling, and it fills five pages of her favorite A5 purple journal. She closes the journal and pretends that it can hold her feelings now instead of her.
But a minute later she rereads everything she wrote.
She really, really likes Megan.
Megan calls her in the middle of the day.
“Did you see my post?” Megan blurts.
“I deleted Instagram,” Sophia replies bluntly.
“Oh.” A shuffling sound. “I’ll send you a screenshot.”
It’s a video recording of Megan swiping through the whole thing. Sophia pauses on every one. And then she sees herself from the AMAs. She freezes. She remembers how sick Megan was — the IV. How she gently held Megan’s arm to hide the bruises that littered the crook of her elbow.
Sophia does her best to ignore the “I love you, I love you, I told you I do” that plays in the background of the screen recording.
“What do you think?” Megan asks.
Sophia almost forgot she is on the phone.
“I love it,” Sophia replies. “I love those pictures of us.”
“Me too,” Megan says. “That’s why I posted them.”
Sophia stares at Manon’s contact for a long time. She has it pulled up. It’s a selfie of the two of them, behind the stage at one of their L.A. shows. Sophia’s mouth is open, and Manon is grinning. They look so happy. She clicks the call button. What she did catches up to her, and she immediately ends it. Her heart is racing. She’ll call it a butt dial. Unintentional. But she wonders if Manon will call her back. She hopes she will.
Her phone buzzes, and she snatches it up. She didn’t realize it was 1 a.m. She’s not sure where to place how she feels about the fact that it’s Megan and not Manon.
It’s a selfie of Megan and Lara taken with flash — they’re at a club, Sophia thinks. Lara is serving face at the camera, and Megan is making her signature “grr” expression, one lip drawn up into a snarl. Sophia smiles at it. She hearts the message and responds be safe, to which Megan responds with like five salute emojis.
Sophia decides she absolutely cannot talk to Lara. Because one, Lara has this way of coaxing things out of her, and two, Lara is basically an extension of Megan. Anything she tells Lara that Lara thinks Megan needs to know will go straight to Megan.
So, Daniela ends up being the first Katseye member Sophia sees since her break — besides Megan, obviously. Daniela pulls up in her red sports car. She always has this famous look to her. This undeniable aura that Sophia thinks would make anyone look at Daniela go — wait, isn’t she famous?
But then Daniela grins at Sophia, all teeth and dimples; some of that popstar aura slips away and reminds Sophia that Daniela’s just a big softie. When Sophia gets into the car, Daniela leans across the console without hesitation and gives Sophia a big bear hug. Sophia melts into it.
“I missed you,” Daniela mumbles into the crook of Sophia’s neck. She pulls away. “But, like, I’m glad you’re resting.”
“Missed you too,” Sophia says. And she means it.
Sophia smiles. She’s reminded why she likes spending time with Daniela. They bounce off each other easily. She feels like her brain and Daniela’s both move fast enough that their conversations can go a hundred directions at once and neither get annoyed by it.
Daniela types the address of a coffee shop they had been to a hundred times into her navigation.
“Still don’t know the way?” Sophia teases, to which Daniela gives her a light swat with the back of her hand.
“So… how have you been holding up?” Daniela begins. She seems a little unsure about the conversation herself. She jerks the car into the left lane — Sophia thinks it’s a miracle that Daniela has not gotten into an accident yet. Driving with Daniela only reminds Sophia of her strong preference for driving with Megan, and that makes her heart ache.
“Fine,” Sophia sighs. She keeps her eyes straight ahead. “I just feel complicated, I guess?”
Daniela makes a hum of understanding. She cuts a car off to get in front of them. “Yeah, sure,” she affirms. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Sophia looks at Daniela, a little surprised. She hadn’t exactly planned on this conversation being where she spills her feelings. But to some extent, Daniela does get the mental health side of it all. She remembers the ADHD diagnosis, and how Daniela reassured her it wasn’t so bad.
“My brain is just so tired,” Sophia says. It feels like weakness, just saying it. “And I just keep thinking about… everything, and it’s exhausting. I feel bad not being there with you guys; I know you are exhausted.”
“It’s okay,” Daniela interjects.
“Is it?” Sophia asks, seriously. Her eyebrows knit. “I mean, it was just three of you guys the other day, and it feels like I can’t… I can’t help.”
“You don’t have to, seriously, Sophia,” Daniela reassures. “Me, Lara, and Yoonchae, we're holding it down. And Megan will be back in like a second. We’re okay.”
The mention of Megan makes Sophia’s heart rate tick up. Megan wouldn’t have told Daniela, surely. Daniela is awful at keeping secrets — she’s not as expressive as Megan but she’s just as easy to read.
“Can I ask you something?” Sophia says.
“Yeah, anything — oh, by the way, we’re like almost there.”
Sophia keeps her thought process to herself. That’s why she’s choosing now to bring it up. “How did you… know you liked your boyfriend?”
“Oh!” Daniela exclaims. She looks at Sophia and scrunches her face up. “Is this about—”
“—Never mind,” Sophia cuts her off. She doesn’t feel like rummaging through her old baggage with Daniela. And she knows that’s exactly where Daniela is going. “I’ll have a matcha.”
“I guess I just felt… I don’t know, I was interested in him, like, he was interesting to me. And he’s nice and attractive.” Daniela smiles to herself. Then looks at Sophia. “I think you just kind of know. Because at some point, you just want to be around them.”
Megan coming by Sophia’s apartment after rehearsal has become routine.
This time, they went and got Erewhon smoothies — Megan parroting Yoonchae’s “$20 in L.A.” line as they drive. Sophia laughs, mimicking it to herself too, but quieter. She likes listening to Megan talk about her day, offering little interjections when she can.
Megan parks in front of Sophia’s apartment and smiles at Sophia. “I had a good time,” she says.
“Me too,” Sophia says in a whisper. She doesn’t get out of the car as quickly as she usually does. She unbuckles, but doesn’t make a move. The words she wants to say are lodged in her throat. She doesn’t actually want to stop spending time with Megan. But she’s scared to say it.
Sophia’s heart is beating out of her chest. Her hands are a little sweaty too. She’s not even sure why she’s so nervous. She’s not even planning on doing anything. She clasps her hands together and squeezes them as tightly as she can.
All she needs to do is get out of Megan’s car.
“Sophia?” Megan says her name like it’s a question in a hushed tone. Sophia glances up and looks at Megan. Megan pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and Sophia can’t help but stare at Megan’s perfect cupid’s bow. She has to practically drag her gaze back up to Megan’s eyes. Her eyes are all big and shiny, even with smoky makeup on. “Can I…” The words trail off.
It makes Sophia’s heart skip a beat. She doesn’t want to make any assumptions. Hope is the thing that kills you, they say. So she doesn’t let herself hope in that moment. She needs Megan to say it. Sophia just holds her tongue and keeps looking at Megan’s eyes. It’s dark outside, so only the flickering streetlamps outside leave two little white dots in Megan’s pupils.
“Can you what?” Sophia prompts. It feels a little childish, like she’s playing with her food. But she sees Megan swallow.
Megan’s fidgety. Her hands grab at the hem of her shirt, and her leg is bouncing. Sophia fights the urge to reach over and hold it still. The silence is a little nauseating, and Sophia fights the urge to fill it.
“Can I kiss you?” Megan asks, finally.
At a different time, Sophia might have snarked back and said I don’t know, can you? And the two would have broken into a fit of giggles. But everything just feels so heavy right now that this one source of torment being lifted off Sophia’s shoulders makes Sophia feel relief so acute that she would cry. Her throat feels tight, so she just nods.
Megan’s eyebrows raise. “Really?” She asks, just to confirm. Sophia’s pretty sure that Megan still has another “are you sure?” in her, so she decides to take the lead.
(And she’s just so tired of not putting herself first, of engaging in these useless forms of self-sabotage, thinking they will make her get better when really they make her worse and worse.)
Sophia leans across the console. She’s usually the one who initiates contact with Megan, grabbing her hand, pulling her into a hug. This is just an extension of this. She reasons. A new tier of closeness finally within her reach.
“Yeah,” she says, with her lips inches from Megan’s, before she closes the gap.
Sophia had turned over in her mind a hundred times what it would mean to kiss Megan, the consequences, but never did she give in to the indulgence of imagining how Megan’s lips would feel against hers. Megan’s lips are warm, soft, and slightly sticky with gloss. She’s never kissed a girl before. She remembers the moment as Megan gently takes Sophia’s bottom lip between hers. Sophia makes a whimpering sound that she didn’t know she made.
When Sophia pulls away, she makes a mental note not to forget how Megan looks right now. Her eyes are wide, glassy. Her lips are parted slightly, a mixture of Sophia and Megan’s lip gloss smudged just above her lip. Sophia’s lips are tingling.
“You’re wearing lip plumper,” Sophia blurts — a really bad first thing to say after a first kiss.
“Shut up.” Megan’s blush deepens and runs down the collar of her shirt. She looks down, then up, then back at Sophia. Megan licks her lips, and Sophia blushes. “Was that… okay?”
“It was,” Sophia confirms.
Megan smiles bashfully.
Sophia looks around. She feels exposed, despite Megan’s tinted windows. “Do you want to come up?”
“Whoa,” Megan says when she walks in. Lavender scent clings to the air — the diffuser that Sophia left running, leaving its mark. She stands awkwardly by the doorway, toeing her shoes off as she gapes at it. “It’s really nice.”
Sophia tries to see what’s so impressive to Megan. Everything’s organized, sure. But Sophia can see the little flaws in it, where she’s forgotten to clean something or put something away in the wrong spot. Her throw pillow is over the back of the couch, and not in the wicker basket by it where it should be. It feels like she’s giving Megan a look inside her mind.
“I’m glad,” Sophia says. She hangs her key on a dedicated hook for it. “I can give you a tour?” She offers.
She gives Megan a brief walk-through; it’s a simple apartment, just one bedroom, one bathroom. Megan makes comments throughout about how she likes certain things. She crouches to go through the album collection that Sophia’s been building, a mixture of pop and K-pop that Sophia hasn’t figured out how to organize quite yet.
When they get to Sophia’s room, Sophia’s hands get sweaty. But Megan looks at it all starry-eyed, singing praises. “It’s great,” Megan says, for the fourth time. “You did good decorating. It’s better than mine.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Megan confirms. “So, um, what do you want to do?”
“Do you want to watch something?” Sophia offers. Megan agrees.
Sophia lets Megan scroll through Disney+, then swap to Netflix, then to HBO MAX. Megan’s eyebrows are furrowed with concentration. She ends up putting on Project Runway, the volume low.
Sophia leans back into her pillows, and Megan leans her head onto Sophia’s chest. They’ve cuddled before, but this is different. There’s a charged undercurrent running beneath them. She wonders if Megan can hear how fast her heartbeat is going. Sophia drags her fingers through Megan’s hair, untangling and scratching slightly. She likes being close to Megan.
Megan shifts a little, and Sophia glances down. Megan’s stares up at her.
“Are you invested?” Megan whispers, like they’re in a movie theater or something.
“Not really,” Sophia confesses.
“Can I kiss you again?” Megan asks.
Sophia nods.
This time, Megan leans in first. She cups Sophia’s cheek with her hand and kisses her. Sophia kisses her back without second thought. It’s nice, kissing Megan. Sophia parts her lips slightly, and Megan takes the invitation to swipe her tongue along the gap. Sophia lets her brain shut off, and just focuses on how she feels.
Megan is so gentle, her touch so soft that it feels like she’s just skimming the surface of Sophia. She holds her a little tighter when she needs to. And it’s all too intimate — the way Megan holds Sophia like she’s something precious, something valuable — that Sophia can’t help that her eyes begin to burn. They haven’t even done anything, just kissed.
Megan pulls back, and her blissful expression morphs to panic when she sees a tear slip down Sophia's face. Sophia isn’t a crier.
“Hey, hey, what?” Megan sounds so panicked, voice peaking. “Did I do something, shit—”
“No,” Sophia says. She feels defeated. She messed this up. She messed her and Megan up, and they only just kissed today, and now she can never come back to the group. Her mind won’t stop throwing worst-case scenarios at her. There’s so much she has to do. “I’m sorry, it’s me. I don’t know what this means.”
Megan’s shoulders fall a little; she slowly slides her hands off of Sophia. “I don’t know what that means,” she whispers.
“I like you, Megan,” Sophia confesses. Her heart is going so fast that she thinks it’s going to burst out of her chest. “I don’t want to drag you into my mess.”
“I like you too,” Megan says, like it’s that simple. “You don’t have to have everything figured out.”
I do, Sophia thinks. She keeps looking at Megan, trying to organize her own thoughts into neat little lines before they escape her.
But then Megan reaches back for Sophia’s thigh and smiles a little, the corner of her mouth twitching up. “We can watch a Disney movie and kiss, maybe?” She suggests. “Or, like, just watch Disney.”
Sophia’s heart skips a beat. “That sounds great,” she says. “And, um, we can kiss too.”
Megan swipes a drying tear from Sophia’s cheek and steals a kiss from her lips.
Megan puts on Tangled, and Sophia approves of the selection. Megan cheers for herself at choosing correctly. She snuggles back into Sophia’s side. The two sing along to all the songs — Sophia knows the movie like the back of her hand. Eventually her eyelids begin to droop, but she fights to stay awake. She wants to see the movie through.
And yet Sophia falls asleep as Megan hums “I See the Light,” her mind finally quiet.