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sp4c3-0ddity · 6 years

Note

Oh!! If youre still doing the au thing, neighbors plance au? Everything is still canon compliant but pidge and lance have known each other since they were in diapers (imagine The Angst when pidge disappears after Kerberos and reappears at the garrison and lance has to lie to hunk about “pidge gunderson”)

possibly not quite what you wanted and a bit more than five headcanons (a fic of nearly 3000 words…) but i hope you like it!! sorry it’s a bit of a mess

(also i made up some stuff about the Garrison and the timeline may be a little off)

“Whothe heck is Pidge Gunderson?”

Predictably Hunk shrugs, as baffled asLance is…thoughlikely not as disappointed. He hopedhis comm specialist would be any of the last five girls he had a crush on, andyet—

“Righthere.”

The familiar voice squeezes his chest andmakes it difficult to breathe for a second, but when he recovers - no way, it can’t be her- he spins on his heel to face his and Hunk’s new teammate.

But the round face and petite frame areunmistakable despite the uneven haircut and glasses. Lance doesn’tknow who Pidge Gunderson is, but it’s not the girlstanding before him.

Katie Holt.

***

Lance lay on his side glaring at theGarrison recruitment poster tacked to his wall, well-aware that he was sulkingbut unwilling to do anything about it. He deservedto sulk after Commander Iverson released their class ranking andclassification. Dreams shattered, hopes dashed, his future as a hero andprodigious heartthrob flushed down the toilet and piped all the way to thebottom of the Marianas Trench for the moray eels to make snacks of…

Score: 82.15Ranking: #11Pilot Class: Cargo

The kicker was that his score was a fraction of a point lower than thelowest ranked fighter pilot.

“Thinkof it this way!” Veronica had saidin that peppy voice she took on when he sulked.“You’re top of the cargoclass!”

“Bigwhoop,” Lance had grumbled. “Cargo pilots don’t go on explorationmissions like to Kerberos…”

No, missions like that would be reserved for Keith and James and all the rest at thetop of his year, while he’d be stuck at the bottom of a barreldelivering instant meals to colonies on the moon.

A sharp knock sounded from the door.

“Whatdo you want?” Lance called without turning around. “I’m doing homework!”

The door’s hinges creaked. “That’s a lie.”

He bolted upright, his heart, heavy withdisappointment, lightening when Katie peeked around the door. “Katie!What’re you doing here?” Lance wondered.

She walked in, shutting the door behind her(which his mother wouldn’t be too happy about for some reason…itwas just Katie, their neighborand his friend since forever) and perching on his desk chair. “Iheard from Veronica that you didn’t make fighter class,” she said, scuffing herbare feet against the carpet. “I’m sorry; I know how much you wanted it.”

Lance sat up and waved a hand. “It’snot a big deal,” he said without meeting her eyes. “I mean, at least I made something, right? And if someone in fighter classwashes out I’llbe the first one in line to replace them!”

Katie raised an eyebrow at him, theslightest smirk perking up her lips. “You know that almost never happens, right?”

He slumped, heart weighed down all overagain, and admitted, “Right, well, a guy can hope! Oryou can make it, shoot through the ranks, and change the rules so that the top eleven make fighter class?”He winked at her, oddly pleased when a hint of pink colored her cheeks.

But she rolled his eyes and retorted, “Itdoesn’t really work that way, Lance, and by then it’ll be too late for you.”

“Iknow, I know.” Lance leaned back against his headboard, hands behind his headand ankles folded in front of him. “You couldjust keep some other sorry rank eleven pilot cadet from suffering this samegrave injustice.”

Katie snorted. “You’reso dramatic, Lance.” The bed sank underneath him as she sat beside him andpulled her feet up. “I can tell you’re upset though.”

“Who?Me? Upset that I didn’t get the thing I wanted most in the whole dang universe?Obviously not!”

Katie shot him a flat, unimpressed frown. “Atleast you still get to fly,” she pointed out. “You did reasonably well inflight school, so it’s not like you’ll lack for missions later, even if they’renot glamourous.”

“Easyfor you to say,” Lance mumbled. He covered his face with his arm. “Your dad andbrother are on the mission of a century.”

“Neitherof them is a pilot,” Katie pointed out.

“I’mnot a multi-talented genius like you,” he said, peeking at her from under hisarm. “You can easily get in as a comm specialist or an engineer withoutfinishing school. You can probably get in as a pilot too if you did flightschool first!”

Katie shifted in place, looking suddenlyuncomfortable judging by how she glanced away, and Lance decided to drop thetopic.

“Whatabout you? Going to join me at the Garrison soon?” He grinned, quirking ateasing eyebrow. “Sure, you have to get through at least two years of highschool first, but that’s exciting too, right?”

Katie stuck her tongue out and said, “Please,if I have to suffer more than two years of incompetent teachers and meanclassmates I’ll steal a rocket from the Garrison and launch myself to Kerberoswithout a helmet.”

Lance laughed, but when Katie didn’tjoin in his eyes widened. “That bad?”

She shrugged but rested her chin on herknees, staring at the same spot on his wall that preoccupied him before shearrived. “It’snot a big deal,” she said. “I know there’s an end to it, so I can live with itfor now.”

“Don’tworry,” Lance said. He sat up and slid forward, feet touching the floor, torest a hand on her shoulder. “The Garrison’s better.”

“Easyfor you to say,” Katie said. “You make friends easily and aren’t super smart—”

“Iresent that!” he squawked, hand springing to his chest in offense.

“—soyou fit in.” She smiled apologetically and added, “Sorry, I meant that as anobservation, not an insult.”

“Iknow.” A grin pushed at his lips, and he flicked a strand of her long hair thatfell into her face, unsecured by her ponytail. “But lots of people are supersmart at the Garrison, so you’ll fit right in!”

Probably better than me, he thought with a twinge in his gut.Everyone at the Garrison was just so spectacular…

“Speakingof super smart people,” Lance said, “you heard anything from your dad andbrother lately?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and added, “I know youtalk to them behind the Garrison’s back…”

Katie’s eyes widened in surprise. She grabbedthe front of his shirt, shocking himinto yelping and his heart - did her face have to be so close? - into racing, and said, “No one’s supposed to know about that!”

Lance raised his hands and stuttered, “Sorry!You’re just not careful around me!”

Katie frowned but let him go. “Don’ttell anyone,” she said.

“Hey,your secret is safe with me,” Lance promised. He straightened his shirt andsighed in relief. “So…is that a yes?”

Katie beamed, the expression radiant andwarming him. “Actually,they’re only a few days away from Kerberos…”

***

“Pidge”avoids Lance just like Katie did after the mission failure, but unlike thattime, when her red-eyed mother answered the door with an apology or the pebbleshe lobbed at her bedroom window went unacknowledged, the truth of it stares himin the face.

So he chooses to confront her.

When she opens the door to her dorm, hesticks his foot in the gap before she can slam it back in his face.

“Ow,”he hisses, the shock of it shooting through his foot and forcing a wince fromhim.

“Whatdo you want?” Katie - Pidge? Isn’t that the nickname her brother gave her? -demands. “I’m busy.”

He refuses to budge, despite his stomachdoing somersaults and his heart pounding an uneven rhythm against his ribs. “Ineed to talk to you.”

“Ihave nothing to say to you outside of class,” she retorts tartly.

His chest tightens, but he scowls andinsists, “You’veavoided me for the last few months, Pidge,so I think I at least deserve an explanation.”

Her eyes widen - no longer hidden behindthose big lenses - while a flicker of shame crosses her face before she sighsand opens the door. “Fine,” she says, waving him in. “Let’s make this quick; I havework to do.”

“Work?”Lance snorts, accepting her reluctant invitation. “It’s the second day of thesemester!”

“Ihave more important stuff to do than classwork, Lance,” she grumbles.

Before he can ask what she means, she slamsthe door shut with enough force to rattle the window.

Clothes and books and manuals litter herfloor, a sharp contrast from her relatively tidy childhood bedroom, but despitethe fact that she seems to have made herself quite at home, nothing gives awayanything…personal. No stuffed animals propped against apillow on the bed, no photos of her family pinned to the wall or sitting inframes on her cluttered desk, no stickers or posters or comic books lining thelittle free space on the shelves….

The sight of it makes his chest ache withsomething like regret.

She - really, what should Lance call her? - stands in the middle of the almost hiddenfloor with her arms crossed and her glower fixed at some point past him. “Sowhat do you want?”

“Totalk,” he says, the adrenaline that sustained him up to this point fading as hurt took over. “Why did you ghostme, Katie?”

“Don’tcall me that here,” she snaps, a hint of fear crossing her face so quickly hemight’ve imagined it.

So that answers one question…

“Allright, Pidge,” Lance says through gritted teeth, “whyhaven’t I seen you in months?”

“I’vebeen busy.”

“Busygetting into the Garrison under a fake name?” He mirrors her pose, adding aneyebrow raised in skepticism. “You’d get accepted here as yourself with youreyes closed.”

“I’mnot here for academicreasons,”Pidge says. “I’m here for—look, it doesn’t matter toyou! I’ll be out of your hair soon enough anyway.”

And as much as it pained Lance when sheignored him every time he tried - and failed- to visit her after her father and brother were declared dead, as much as it hurt for her to attempt to blow him offnow, he really didn’tlike the sound of that.

A frown pulls at his lips. “Whatdo you mean?” he wonders.

“I’m…tryingto switch to a different team,” she admits. And she even has the audacity tolook abashed, her eyebrows drawn together and herfingers wringing the hem of her uniform jacket.

But her admission doesn’thurt like it should, not when his chest burns with anger and he snaps, “I don’tknow what you’re up to - and I sure hope you’ll tell me! - but I would never expose you when you’reobviously in disguise.” He rolls his eyes, scowling at the floor, and mutters, “Icovered for you with Hunk already. He sensedsomething odd when I ‘met’ you.”

Of course he had, when the sight of Pidgeand her big brown eyes made his breath catch and his tongue stick to the roofof his mouth and left him speechless.

Really, all his primary school teachersthat bemoaned how talkative he was inclass should’veemployed Pidge disguised as a boy if they wanted him to keep quiet.

“Hedid?” Pidge’s jaw drops. “A-and it’s not that I think you’ll report me,” shecontinues after clearing her throat. “It’s that…I can’t risk being exposed fromsomething so trivial as I’m too friendlytowards someone I just met. Your sister would catch on in a—”

“I’msorry,” Lance interrupts, rolling his eyes, “but that’s the dumbest thing I’veever heard. And look, I knowyou’renot used to making friends”—he doesn’t miss her grimace at the reminder—”but lots of people are really friendly with peoplethey just met, so don’t give me that excuse.”

“I—”Pidge sighs, gaze drifting down to the floor between them. “I just…I don’tknow.”

Lance, suddenly exhausted with all thisincluding the months of her avoiding him, drops onto her bed. “Whyare you going to all this trouble anyway? Your dad works - I mean, worked - here, so can’tyou just…waltz in if you wanted?”

Pidge shakes her head and confesses, “Igot banned from the premises.”

His head snaps up in shock. “Wait,what?”

She sits heavily beside him. “IfI tell you…”

“You’llhave to kill me?” Lance suggests when she trails off, staring into space.

She smiles fleetingly, but he counts it avictory anyway. “No,but you can’t tell anyone else.”

He draws an X over his chest and says, “Crossmy heart. As long as I don’t have to die for this secret…”

“Youcan’t even tell Hunk,” Pidge insists with a glare.

He raises his hands. “I’malready way ahead of you in that…but it’ll get harder,” he says, rubbing theback of his neck sheepishly.

Her eyes flit from his face to the floorand back again. “Itwasn’t pilot error,” she almost whispers.

He leans closer, unsure he heard her right.“What?”

A familiar ferocity enters her eyes,sending a shiver up his spine, as she says, “The pilot didn’t crash and my father andbrother aren’t dead. Something tookthem.”

Lance gapes at her. “Areyou…really? How do you know?”

“ClassifiedGarrison footage I wasn’t supposed to find,” she tells him shortly. “They’relying about what happened.”

“W-whatcould’ve taken them?” he wonders while dread ties his stomach into knots. Buthe forces a laugh and feebly jokes, “N-not aliens, right?” When Pidge doesn’treply, his jaw drops. “Pidge, what did you see?”

“Isaw enough to know there’s more to what the Garrison said publicly,” shepronounces, “but I’m here to find out as much as I can.”

“Anddo what?” Lance asks. “Expose the Garrison’s lie?”

“Maybe,”she says, frowning. “It…depends on what I find.”

“But,Pidge—”

And before he can wonder what she plans todo next, she cuts in, “I’msorry, Lance.”

At this rate, he’llhave a premature heart attack thanks to all the shocksshe’sdealt him.

“What?”

“Ishouldn’t have shut you out like that.” She pulls her feet onto the bed andhugs her knees. “I just didn’t know what to do after the mission failure, so Ithrew myself into investigating that rather than wasting time on other things.”

“Aw,thanks, Pidge,” he says, rolling his eyes despite the disappointment weighinghis heart down anew. “I’m glad that’s what I am to you.”

Her cheeks darken, and she waves her handfrantically to backtrack, “N-no, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Oh,really?” He raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You mean I wasn’t trying to waste your time?”

“Th-that’snot it at all, Lance,” she says. She rests her forehead against her knees so hecan’t see her face. “It’s just…it was too tempting to use your connection and I didn’twant you to get caught up in this mess after you applied for the spot thatopened up in fighter class so I kept it to myself.”

Lance frowns, convinced that, for all thetruth in the statement, she hides something else, but he can’thelp quipping, “How thoughtful of you, Pidge.”

But then—

“Wait,how did you know about the spot that opened up?” he wonders, instantlysuspicious. “That happened a while after you started avoiding me.”

Pidge’s shoulders stiffen. “I don’t remember,”she says. “I might’ve come across it while I was hacking into the Garrison’ssystems and assumed you’d try for it.”

Lance doesn’t call her out on her obvious lie, notwhen relief fills him that her silenceis finally at an end and…well, maybe they can’t resume theirfriendship as it was before the mission failure, but they won’t have to startfrom scratch.

“Howcan I help?”

Pidge’s head whips around, her eyes bulging inbefuddlement. “What?”

He shrugs, feigning nonchalance despite hisheart pounding and the voice in his head that reminds him he’salready on thin ice in the Garrison’s eyes, and waves a hand. “You know, withyour…investigation.”

“Um…”She blinks once, twice, three times before saying, “Pretend like we didn’t knoweach other before.”

His heart plummets anew at that. “Why?”

“Ialready explained,” she says. She jumps to her feet and faces him, arms thrownout and eyes fixed on the ceiling. “It’s bad enough yourecognized me, so what if someone else does too?”

“But—”he tries to protest, but Pidge plows right through him.

“There’s…nothingyou can help with, Lance,” she says with a heavy exhale.

“ButI’m your friend!” He stands, flailing his arms and gesturing around her messyroom. “I can at least watch your back while you do your sneaky spy stuff!”

“I…maybe,”she concedes grudgingly, “but right now the best lead I’ve got requires I be asinconspicuous as possible.”

“D-doesthis mean you’re still switching teams?” His breath sticks in his throatpainfully at the thought that they can repair their friendship only for it tofracture moments later.

He grew up with Pidge; she’sas dear to him as…well, not a sister, exactly, but the last few months withouther - undoubtedly while she hurtand stewed over her father’s and brother’s not-deaths alone exceptfor her mother - left him almost listless with how much he missed her.

Pidge’s brown eyes bore into his as she says, “No,I guess that’s not necessary.” A slight smile finds its way onto her face,reassuring and warmingLance as much as her words. “Knowing one of my teammates is reason enoughto stay.”

#plance #pidgance #lidge #flirtyrobot #aksj;fkj;fsdf i tried i dunno how i did #i wonder if i've lost my touch BUT oh well #how come i post two fics in one day??#WELL this is the only one i wrote today SO #voltron #reem writes fic #Anonymous #also don't want to post anything day of/right before season eight #because i know people will be preoccupied with that #qna

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insomniac-arrest · 7 years

Text

Point A to Point B

genre: slice of life, growing up, wlw, original

words: 10k

summary: ---“I’ve seen the movies.” I say loudly, putting my hands above my head as I lay in the grass. “You’ve seen the movies,” she flops down next to me.

“I’ve heard the songs!” “You’ve heard the songs.” “Will you stop that?” “No.” “I’ve done the research!”

“You googled ‘hot tiddy’ twenty eight times a week.” “Lord save me,” I look up at the bright sky and try to ignore her, “how does someone get from point A to point B? How does anyone get a girlfriend!”----

A girl over the summer of her junior year tries to answer the age-old question that philosophers have been working on for generations: how does a girl get a girlfriend?

The Girl in the Pets World

The song ‘Your Body is a Wonderland’ by John Mayer was playing over the loudspeakers as I creep down the fish food aisle. My shoes squeak across the clean linoleum floors and the sterile blinding fluorescents blare from overhead. My hand grazes over the colorful fish food labels one at a time, blue, yellow, pink, ultra pink.

I was feeling a little like fish food myself at the at moment, small and chewed up, but maybe that was just the drama addict in me.

A little girl in blue corduroys and pink sneakers looks up at the speakers as the lyrics ‘And if you want love we'll make it, Swim in a deep sea of blankets’ plays. I hope she’s thinking about blanket forts or something when he says the last part.

I’m not, I’m looking at the front cash registers and sweating, I was never very good at keeping my body temperature at a normal person rate. I sweat in meat lockers, I sweat at hockey games, I sweat in the basement of the school during nap time when I was five. And I sweat getting in line at the Pet’s World for the cash register.

My mom said all the sweating was from my various allergies, but once I found out ‘allergic to earwax’ wasn’t a real thing I stopped taking my mom’s word on a lot of things. Though most dogs still made me sneeze, I was trying to ignore that and hope it goes away.

I held Chubs favorite TetraFin Goldfish flakes in my moist hands and look up the ceiling where two industrial fans swung round and round. Whump whump whump.

My eyes follow them lazily and hear a loud squawk from the bird section a few paces away and try not to flinch.

‘You frustrate me, I know you're mine all mine all mine, but you look so good it hurts sometimes ’

I hear the song croon on along with the whump whump whump of the industrial fans overhead.

“Next!” I try not to freeze, or swallow my tongue, or sweat through all of my clothes in 2.3 seconds like some sort of ooze monster.

I ooze forward anyway on my human slug legs and push the fish flakes across the counter, a girl with short swishing blue hair takes the item and presses it across the scanner. Her fingers were long, piano-player long, with three rings on each hand. Not enough rings to be obnoxious, but enough to knock some teeth out if she punched a man.

I’m imagining her punching a man now and I’m sweating.

“Hey,” I wipe my palms down on my jeans, trying to resist digging my teeth into my cheek.

She pushes her strands of deep blue hair back and glances up, “hey.” She presses some buttons on her register, she might as well be pressing magic buttons on a wizard wand to me.

“How are you today?” Her voice is low, deep like a purring car engine or bass guitar, formal as it was bored.

“Pretty good.” I stop myself from trying to get something more out, ‘start out small’ I remind myself.

She glances up. “Your total is $4.55.” “Oh,” I riffle around through my pockets, trying to figure out if I brought my wallet or dignity or that notebook I wrote lines down in. “Here.” I place a five down on the counter and she nods, “pretty hot out there today.” “Yeah,” I gulp and swallow thickly, “nice to be out of school.” She snorts, her round delicate features in motion for a second, “you can say that again.” She hands me back 45 cents in change and I take it with just a mild little nod. “Did you want a bag?” “Nah,” I turn around, a dime falling out of my hand as I grab for the fish flakes and go to bolt. Chubs didn’t even need any more flakes yet, I’m running anyway.

“Next!” Her voice calls out and I wonder if she knew my name. If I was just ‘some random fish flakes girl’ to her and she was Mari S. to me. Mariana Santiago, and I was dying.

I’m out the door.

--------

I’m gasping for breath and feeling my nerves jitter up and down like a jukebox. The cool shadow of the building pets my cheek and I feel like falling over.

I hear snickering off to my left, I’m almost gagging on my own tongue, “Ugh!” I rake my hands through my chin-length brown hair and spin around in circles. I’m on the side of the building now, where the large windows can’t see and only a few cars pass by, the sidewalk chafes on my naked knees as I crash down.

“Okay,” a voice calls out to me, “so I take it you proposed on one knee and she said yes.” I don’t even look up, “shut up Dana.”

I feel someone kick my ankle as I keel over dramatically (for the drama addict in me).

“She spun you around and you kissed against the sunset.” I tilt my eyes up to scowl at my best friend, Dana Kim. “Yeah. Then we made out against the doggy daycare display and the people in the fifth aisle clapped.” “Hey, I think it’d be cool to lose your v-card up against the doggy daycare sign…” Dana’s eyes mist over, “like some innocents lost imagery or some shit.” I roll over on my side and consider flopping my way over to the highway on my stomach. Girls met other girls in hospitals, right?

“How do people do this?!” I throw my hands in the air and shake my fist at God.

“You know,” Dana cracked her ankle as she took a squat next to me, “Bars, bus stops, aquariums, Christianmingle.com…” “How do gay people do this?” I correct myself, “we know that she’s gay, right? We say her tinder profile. There was a girl holding hands with girl emoji.” “Dude, her facebook page is a rainbow flag background,” Dana flicks me gently.

I blink up at her, “Maybe she just likes rainbows?” Dana rolls her eyes, “get up.” She puts her hand out toward me and I grab it, she hauls me up with an exaggerated groan. “God, the weight of your bullshit is giving me arm muscles.” “Pfft,” I punch the side of her arm once, “like you could get muscles if you wanted to.” Dana flexed her thin pale noodle arms, “I’m butch.” I pat her back sympathetically, “my brother asked me who that sad twink was the other day before I told him you just got a haircut.” Dana made an abject face at me and stuffs her glasses higher up on her nose, “Tell Robbie I’m gonna kick his fucking ass.” I laugh, “let’s go. My mom still thinks I’m applying for jobs.” “Aren’t you?” I shrug, “a type of one.” She laughs and pat me on the back again, “girls like girls with money you know” I look up at the sky and I feel my hair tickle the back of my neck, “do girls like girls?” “I’m gonna kick your ass,” she grins, “start walking hot stuff, we’ll go over where you went wrong.” I jump down from the curb and start walking toward the brown on brown suburbs in the distance, “I said ‘hey’ and followed up with a sad confused gay telepathy look.” “What did I tell you about gay telepathy?” We cross through the parking lot, “it doesn’t actually work if you aren’t already bitten by the radioactive ghost of Freddie Mercury yet.” I yank at my stray hairs and want to flop over again, “nothing works.” “Maybe asking her out works?”

“Don’t be daft,” I sniff loudly with a teasing grin and she shakes her head. We jump down from the curb and start meandering along the scruffy uneven road. I look up at the bright, cloudless pale blue sky. As blue as it got in Hobbs New Mexico.

I let out a long puff of air as I let the summer of my junior year soak into me like an old rag, I sigh, “what if I go to college without ever having kissed a girl?” Dana adjusted her glasses and stuffed her hands in her pocket, “I dunno, be like every other gay girl out there Feli? Lesbianism is like a social yield sign. Everything takes a little longer my friend.” I look over my shoulder and give a sad smile, “thanks.” Dana shrugs, “that’s for me too. It’s not like blue-haired Miss Mari is my type, but I could use a girlfriend as well. Like, yesterday.” “You’ve already had a girlfriend,” I say with a scowl, “save some for the rest of us.” “Uh,” Dana scuffs her foot on the ground, “that was at band camp, which doesn’t count, because everyone is gay there and now she lives in Massachusetts.” I wrinkle my nose, “gross.” “I know,” she nods, “and we barely held hands. She was super shy, and like, we just fumbled around that first kiss like idiots.” We start walking up a grassy hill as we approach Peach street and turn toward the dead and yellowing patches of foliage up at the top.

“Oh yeah, the first kiss you described as the ‘most magical touch of the first world order created by the heavens themselves’.” “I did not phrase it like that,” she says indignantly. “I called it the breathtaking flowering of my adolescence.” “Jesus,” I shake my head, “And then three months later at Macy’s party you said that it sucked.”

She frowns slightly and then shrugs, “that’s sometimes how it be.” She shudders, “It was just super, dry.” She wrinkles her nose, “and light.” I groan and flop down next to Our Spot, the place next to the rusted broken down truck that somehow got on Deadman’s Hill and never left. “I can’t believe even you can’t get a good gf in this economy.” “Even me?” She grins, “I’ll take that as a compliment,.”

“Dan,” I say slowly, “I don’t know where I’m going wrong.” “Well, let’s start,” she takes a deep breath in but I stop her.

“I’ve seen the movies.” “Okay, you’ve seen the movies,” she flops down next to me.

“I’ve heard the songs.” “You’ve heard the songs.” “Will you stop that?” “No.” “I’ve done the research!”

“You googled ‘hot tiddy’ twenty eight times a week.” “Lord save me,” I look up at the bright sky and try to ignore her, “how does a girl get from point A to point B? How does anyone get a girlfriend.” We both glance over at each other, a heart beat passing between us like a whispered curse word. She moves her shoulders up and down loosely, “hell if I know.” We go back to look up at the limpid blue sky.

-----------

“Did you find work?” My mom was rearranging her herbs cabinet.

I lean on the doorframe and watch her frizzy brown hair get caught in her shirt collar, “getting there.” I say slowly. “I’m thinking Barnes and Nobles.” She glances up slightly and puts her oregano next to her sage grass, “your aunt messaged me last week that leo’s were going to have a month of wealth.” It was probably too bad in my mom’s universe that I never felt like a leo, “sure, send aunt Maude my love.” I say flatly and drum my hands on the countertop.

“And to watch out for bad smells!” My mom hoots, “that’s why I’m making sure our spices are in order.” “Good mom.” I turn toward the door, thinking better about having come in there in the first place. “Tell your brother to turn his video game down too, you know how I hate those gun noises,” she moves the sage grass next to the mint leaves.

“I will,” I sigh heavily, “and mom,” I glance at her, she manages to crane her neck over as she messes with her stray hair caught in her collar. I sigh again, “Nevermind.” “Have you fed your fish?” I nod, “Chubs is… good.” She nods, “that fish is lucky, you know he is. I got him from Todd.” Todd was our previous next door neighbor who sold weed to my mom (for medicinal reasons, naturally), he gave his betta fish to us before he left. He had two, the other one's name was Ganja.

I crossed my fingers, “I’ve been feeling luckier already.” “And take your cloves!” She says hotly, “I’ve seen you buying more kleenexes.” I roll my eyes and turn toward the basement, “I know mom!”

I haven’t taken my cloves in months, but I had started eating gluten against in April and felt better than ever, so there was that. Gluten, of course, was one of my many allergies on my moms ‘Felicity List.’

I hated her Felicity List.

I end up going down the next hallway, completely failing in asking my mom the one question I wanted to know: how did you meet dad. How did he meet you- and then how does anyone meet girls? How do you do love without a proper script for it.

I end up just knocking on my brother’s door, “turn it down!” I holler, “your call of duty is making mom’s aura black or whatever.” “Fuck off, dump-truck.” I scoff to myself, my brother was at the age where he discovered that he had something to say, and it suddenly didn’t have to be good things. Or even decent things.

“Robbie, Dana says she’s gonna kick your ass and I’m tempted to let her.” I just hear a series of yelling and gunshots on the other side, “wear headphones you brat!”

“Like I have to listen to someone who leaves their bloody panties o-” “I’m coming on in!” I rattle the door. “And I’m telling mom if your essential oils are in the trash again.”

“Fine, fine!” He says shrilly, “I’m putting headphones in.” He mumbles something rude after that but I just shake my head and move on, I had a game plan to continue to make.

I knock before entering the basement and coming down the stairs two at a time, “that was a bust!”

Dana was sitting in our beanbag chair looking at her phone, “I suppose ‘I told you so’ wouldn’t help?” “You haven’t told me anything in the eleven years we have known each other,” I wag a finger at her and she sticks out her bottom lip.

“How’s the moodboard of love going?” She jutts her chin out toward my open notebook, I blow air out of my nose. “It’s mood is ‘bored’.”

“Ooh, good wordplay.” “Ugh.” I turn over to flop into my own bean bag chair next to hers. “Love is fake and being gay is…” I frown, “hard.” “Haven’t you heard? The het-ys will also say being straight is hard too.” She doesn’t look up from her phone.

I cover my eyes with my hands, “any insta news?” “Mari hasn’t posted anything since the 911 post about her finding a new top from that consignment store,” Dana nudges me with her foot, “but Paula from phys ed is starting a girls rugby team and posting about it, and it’s,” she lifts her eyebrows, “kinda hot.”

I sit up straight, “is she…?” “Still dating Patrick Ludwig or whatever, but my point still stands.” I tutt and click my tongue, “a good one fallen.” Dana laughs and a turn over on my stomach, “what’s the other game plan?” Dana puts her legs in the air, “research.” She winks, “there’s this episode on Netflix that’s supposed to be hot.” “That we haven’t-” “That we haven’t seen.” I put my finger in the air, “play it then!”

“Say no more.”

We turn on ‘Vegan Cinderella’ about two girls and no story plot.

Of course, the two leads get in one glance at each other and then get together. No one ever really tells you how you skip from noticing each other to straight up crawling all over one another. There is no in between.

I try to take notes.

------

It was a lazy summer, a bright one, slow, there were a lot of things I was trying to piece together and tear apart again. Mainly, why I was in Pet’s World, standing in the fish food aisle. It was like reliving a bad dream I kept having.

They were playing ‘Call me Maybe’ like some sort of summer throwback to two years ago and I was feeling resentful.

I had Dana in my ear, I clear my throat and whisper, “okay, repeat to me again what you want me to say.” Dana clears her throat, “well hey there sugar lips-” “Nope.” She lowers her voice, “Why don’t you bring some candy over to daddy.” “So unhelpful.” “That’s what I said my first time,” she said from outside, I could almost see her smirking at me from there.

“You did not,” I say indignantly, “you gestured and stuttered and maybe flashed her once, that’s the true story.” “You’re right. Please flash Mari S for me, like full on vag and/or areola.”

“I hate you.” “Muah,” she blows a kiss my way and I shake my head.

“This is why we aren’t dating.” “Gross. I’ve known you too long for that, that’s like kissing your cousin.” “Also gross.” “You need to fly little bird!” Dana yells into the speaker, “spread your wings and take your clothes off in a public Pet’s World. Full areola. Maybe a little ass, all of your thighs.” “I’m just going to ask her if they have any job applications.” “Boooo-” I hang up on her.

My breaths come out harsh and uneven, I prop myself up anyway and ignore the hamsters in the next aisle giving me the side eye from their cages. I had a girl to figure out how to date.

I walk up to the cash register, it was eleven in the morning so the store was particularly empty and I was feeling particularly bold after chugging one and a half Dr. Pepppers. I wasn’t allowed sugar or caffeine as a child so it tended to have a more profound effect.

Mari seemed to be glancing down at what I assumed was her phone, I was looking out at nothing as my eyes unfocused in a sort of last resort defense mechanism. I force myself to plant my feet in front of her cash register.

It takes her a moment to look up and it takes me a longer, much more uncomfortable moment to say anything. She was looking at my empty item-less hands.

“Do you like working here?” I ask in a monotone. A beat passes where her painted eyebrow arches, I fumble the ball in midair. “I mean, I’m looking for a job is all.” ‘Is all’ is still a cute phrase, right?

Mari leaned down over the counter and stuck her tongue out slightly, “honestly? Love the animals, but customer service will fucking drag your soul out through your ass.” I gulp, “so I’ve heard.” I rack my head for sentences, or words, or singular intelligent sounds. My phone buzzes as Dana must be watching me from the outside. I wipe my hands down, “but the animals, right? Sounds fun.” I offer weakly.

Mari gives a half-smile, “it’s pretty chill, I get 20% off dog food, so I guess it almost works.” I grin, “what kind of dog do you have?” Mari raises her eyebrows even further, “a lab.”

“Cool!”

Another beat drops and the silence drags on a little bit as I try to come up with something like a sleeveless magician. Mari taps her nails down and tilts her head to the side, “his name is Bruce Lee, like the actor since my mom was super into martial arts after she got freaked at a store robbery. It wasn’t even her store.” I take a deep breath in and my heart sort of soars, “that’s cool. Bruce Lee? I love dogs.” Was this working? It felt like it was working. “Yeah,” Mari gives a half-smile, “they’re the reason I work here at all.” She shakes her head, “honestly, I could just leave the people out altogether.” I laugh and it almost doesn’t turn into a snort, “tell me about.” Mari grins again and looks me up and down, I almost explode. “Did you need that job ap?” I shrug, “I’m still deciding.” Hard to get, hard to get.

“Well,” she huffs and looks up at the ceiling, “it might be nice to have someone who isn’t obsessed with the bachelor to work here.” I could have bounced on the soles of my feet, “you got me pegged. I don’t even like roses.” I was supposedly allergic to them. She just clicks her tongue with a slight laugh and takes something out, “go for it then.” She hands me the job application. I nod and run out of words in my word orchid to grab from, I take the piece of paper and turn around instead. “Thanks then.

“Sure.”

My eyes dart back and forth and then I bite my lip, turning slightly, “See you then.” “Definitely,” she waves, I wonder if this is flirting.

I practically run back outside as I try to chew on what this all means, my shoes skid across the exit like they’re going to burn up and a run around the corner of the building to bend down and tear at my hair. “Mppmph!” I squat down on the ground where no one can see me. “Mmmph!” I hear someone skipping up from the left.

“How was it? How’d it go?” Dana circles around me enthusiastically as she approaches, “did you do the dog-sign-virginity thing?” I throw my hands in the air and make another strangled sound, “mmph!”

“And she’s a winner!” Dana goes to high-five me and then ends up laughing. “I can’t believe you done it. Or something I take it.”

“Ah!” I let out something that was almost a whoop, “she said ‘definitely!’” I turn around in circles, “she thinks it’d be cool if I worked there!”

“You’re going to get married,” Dana clapped her hands and I ignore her.

I almost fall down on the pavement right there, “to Deadman’s truck!” I point to our hill, “we have to tell me how I to actually get a job.”

Dana laughs and then covers her mouth, “I can’t believe you wouldn’t get a job to help me buy a car together, but oh, Mari Santiago is hot enough for it.” “So hot!”

“Let’s go then,” she pushes me back to my feet, “play by play girl, play by play.”

I’m walking around in circles, “she has a dog!”

“No duh.” “He does martial arts!”

“Slow down there.” We walk to our hill and I can’t stop talking, one step at a time, one little step at a time.

-------

I didn’t know what to do with Mariana Santiago. She was there, toned and surly and goth gf material one moment, and then super surly and unreadable the next.

I really did need fish flakes for Chubs the next day (my brother tipped over a whole bottle of it the night before) and Mari doesn’t even look at me as I walk by. She’s outside leaning on the wall. It seemed to be her break, she was holding a cigarette and inhaling deeply, I hold my breath.

“Hey,” I don’t know what to do with my hands at that moment, or what I’m doing at all.

She barely looks up, “oh hey.” She looks back down at her phone.

“I applied for the job.” She takes a look time to respond, “good.” She takes a drag, “Brian has been complaining like one of the broken parrots about being short-staffed.” I bite my lip, “think I’ll get it then?” Her eyes flick up and down, I wish I wasn’t wearing my loose Bob Ross tank top that day, “you’re breathing, aren’t you?” I shrink a little at that but try to grin, “last time I checked.” She shrugs, no laugh, “You’ll do fine.”

I wait for something more, but Mari looked like she was several miles away and not at all walking. I start to turn away, “well… bye. See you in the store, maybe.” She waves with her lit hand and then is typing something, “break a leg.” Point A to Point B was a confusing little road that went up back and around, Mari Santiago, queen of the goths, apparently had a lot of detours.

-----------

Day One: Two Words

Our shifts don’t line up the first day, I accidentally ring something up three times and get softly chewed out by an old lady.

My hair is a mess, I sneeze five times when an extra hairy mop-dog walks in. I try to discreetly take a white allergy pill I got from a friend while a teen boy with a sweater vest judges me. I drop an entire bag of seeds I was scanning, but luckily it doesn’t break open.

I stutter, a lot. And my perspirant only lasts for half the day before my sweating is back, but of course, I do see her at the end.

She comes in, shaking her chin-length wavy blue hair and her black boots clunking on the employee room floor. I barely have time to look up. “You survive?” She asks dryly with her lips twitching. I could have whimpered.

It was one of her smiley days, where her dimples almost appeared, I end up just nodding mutely before shrugging my bag on my shoulder and turning.

I remember to skedaddle on out of there, I needed to play hard to get, I needed to mostly fix my hair and change my shirt.

-----------

Day Two: 13 Words

We discuss the fact, again, that Mari’s boss loves the bachelor, and she hates it. “It’s the worst thing to happen to love since the Twilight series.” I don’t really know what to say to that, so I try to channel my inner Dana, “hets, amiright?” I don’t mention my brief Twilight phase.

Her eyelids are blue that day, iridescent blue to match her bangs. “Okay?” I’m not sure she understood what I meant, it’s then rush-time on Saturday with puppy training hour going on in the back of the store. I get slobbered on and ask to change registers when my eyes get as red as a fire hydrant.

I didn’t mention on my resume that I had any allergies, mostly because I was hoping all of them were fake instead of just most of them. My mom picks me up that day and I don’t let Mari see me sneak into her car with my nose leaking like a faucet.

--------------

Day three: five sentences

My feet hurt, my head hurts, my back hurt, but mostly my feet hurt.

Eight hours, eight hours of standing and staring and I finally understood the phrase ‘counting down the seconds.’ Sure, something like social studies class was bad, but that was just fifty minutes.

This was four hours straight with a couple breaks thrown in, I think I might start to lose my mind by closing time that night. The store was dead quiet, the shadows growing on the walls and the pain growing in the soles of my feet, I always did have weak ankles.

I shift from side to side, rueing my ungrateful body and counting the number of squawks were coming from the bird section. Mari was standing a few registers away, but she hadn’t said anything that night, I hadn’t been feeling ‘me’ enough to start anything yet.

But I hear something, “hey.” I turn jerkily at her voice, my eyes going wide, “hey.” I barely look at her.

“How you holding up?”

I chew on something for a long minute before catching her eye, “my feet hurt like I stepped on a series of legos at a gynos office.” She laughed, a real life where her teeth showed in a goofy way, “oh man, definitely.” I grin, “I think they may soon fall off.” She shakes her head, she taps on her own converse, “insoles.” She says, “insolves my friend.” I nod with my face going a little hot, “are those new shoes?” Her dimples show a little bit, “nah, but,” she bounces her eyebrows up and down, “I did just spray paint them..”

I told her about my feet and it’s the longest conversation we ever had.

----------------

It was 11am on a Saturday and I was lying on bed going through my nail polish, I owned three, and one of them was sealed shut. I feel someone throwing a kleenex in my direction.

“Okay,” Dana calls over, “but tell me if she really has a soul jar in her room of the spirits of our classmates she’s cursed.” I roll my eyes at Dana as she swirls around in my my black office chair I got from a yard sale. I push my glitter blue nail polish away, “She’s not like that.” “At least confirm to me that she’s a wiccan, like, I’m 69% sure she is since she keeps posting hand-drawn summoning circles on instagram,” she hums, “but you never know these days.” “We haven’t got there yet,” I pause as I try to recollect all the details I had gathered from work, the recon mission of a life so far. “She spray-painted her converse recently.” Dana spun another two times in a circle, “black or purple?” “Black, also,” I go to swat at her, “get that look off your face.” Dana kept going, only pausing to poke my with her sock, “what face?” She kept holding her mouth like it had a crooked secret.

“The judgy face,” I wrinkle my nose, “I know she’s not your type.” She puts a hand over her heart, “when have I ever judged anyone? Ever?” I get up from the bed and start to walk over, “When have you have ever judged anyone?” I put my hands on my hips. “Strike you down now?”

Dana puts another hand up, like a girl scout taking a pledge, “strike me down now.” I grin and take another step forward, “and the Lord has spoken!” I flop down on her lap forcefully and spread my limbs out. “Oof,” Dana pretend gags as I sit on top of her.

Dana tries to push me off, “you are waaaay too bony for this Feli,” she tries to grab me around the waist and I flail my arms around with a laugh, she dodges my elbow. “You’re gonna take my eye out!”

“Oh, and she never judges,” I poke her and sit more firmly down, “she takes her punishment like a saint.” “Sainthood is a given,” she makes a stoic face and I laugh. “You may strike me down,” she starts spinning, “but can you hold on?” She pushes off the wall and the chair wobbles. “Dammit, Dan!” I grab the chair’s arms and we start going around and around in rapid circles. “I’m allergic to motion!”

“I know! Along with oats and milk and glutton and dogs and earwax, woo!”

I start to jab her with my elbows and we’re cackling and probably disturbing the neighbors when my phone buzzes, an actual buzz that almost made me jump out of my skin.

“Woah!” I fall halfway out of Dana’s lap as she slows to a halt.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” I hold a hand over my mouth, “motion sickness?” “Look at that!”

I go to read the notification and my eyes go huge. I had a new follower on my instagram. “No.” My mouth falls open, “no!” “Someone’s on the smash-cash train, beep beep,” she makes a train noise and a scramble over to the discarded iphone 6.

“What does this mean?!” I look at the fact that ‘shoelaceslace’ had followed me back on instagram. My mouth was still open, “what does this mean?!” I feel someone push on my shoulder roughly, “it means your on course for SS Macktown, occupation goth lipstick stains, hot damn!” “Shut up,” I push on her back, “never speak again. I’m having a crisis.” “Lactose crisis level or like, still failing social studies crisis?” I start gnawing on my bottom lip and then a flop down on the bed, “does she like me?” “Does she not like you?” I kick my legs up and down and then roll back and forth on the bed, “well she doesn’t hate me!”

Dana laughs and calls me an idiot, “nobody’s gonna dislike you. You’re like, only 2/3s dislikable at any given moment.” “Dan,” I say shrilly, “I need to post something cute.” “Post about your favorite punk band.” “Something cuter.” “Post about your huuuuge crush, the one who works at a pets store and likes MCR.” I throw her a pointed look, “what?” She pushes her bangs back, “it’s the direct route!” I sigh, loudly. I was good at the dramatic. “Fine.” I try to find the best picture of me from my trip to Albuque, “point B here I come!”

“You’re gonna message her?” I throw her a blank look, “no.” I say shrewdly, “I’m gonna very very slowly crawl into a date through my picture of me holding a butterfly in a pavilion.” “Boo.” I try to mentally get on that train again.

-------

Sunlight hit the back of my neck and I felt a sizzling under my skin, my work bag hangs over my shoulder with my cellphone, lunch, and water bottle. I tap my foot angrily on the carpet and my mom looks me over.

I was standing outside my kitchen with my arms crossed over my chest, my left eyebrow was twitching and the floor smells like mildew and peppermint. “I have to.” My mom’s back was turned to me and I could hear the noise of my brother’s gun game from a room over, a distant ‘pew pew’ that was even starting to grate on my nerves.

My mom started to pick up a scented rag, “and what?” She frowns at me over her shoulder, “what am I going to do with all that wasted time?” I roll my eyes, “I never said I was actually going to the spiritualist. It’s a Sunday! I have work.”

“Felicity Laura Munez it is already booked.” She was balling up the rag in her hand. “I never said I would go!” My mom slits her eyes at me and I wouldn’t be surprised if she started hissing to ward off the negative energy around us. “Sometimes it feels like you just aren’t trying.” She says it lowly, it was worse than a hiss.

“At what?” I say dryly, not meeting her eye.

She puts her palms up, “at our relationship! I asked you to reschedule for this last week.” “For the last time,” I stomp my foot, “I’m not sick, I don’t want to go to this spiritualist.”

My mom puts a hand through her wild gray-brown hair, “then what about all the lethargy? You almost flunked freshman year, and you know you were eating so much bread that year.” I rolls my eyes, “I don’t want to have this conversation again.”

My mom put her hand out, “it’s just for an hour-” “You wanted me to get a job,” I hitch my bag up on my shoulder and feel a little cool. “I’m going to go to my job.”

“Felicity!”

I turn hotly on heels and scurry out before I lose my nerve or let my mom finish her next sentence about considering all the mood swings I had from last year. It had to be that red meat I ate, didn’t it?

I’m still scowling and red in the face by the time I walk to the Pet’s World, my head is spinning and I can feel my insides prickling. “She always has to insert herself, always has to make a thing out of everything,” I start muttering to myself as I made my way into the back of the store.

I had the same shift as Mari that day and she seems to see me coming in, my phone is buzzing.

“No mom,” I picked it up furiously and start speaking, “I don’t want to do this right now, just go by yourself, that’s what you usually do.” She lets out another string of words about meridians and not doing crew for the school play this year if I don’t get myself together before then, I end up hanging up. I angrily punch in just as another pair of shoes come up next to me. They were spray painted black.

“Hey,” I jump, realizing that Mari is standing right next to me. She looks me over steadily, “you good?” She points to the phone I am almost crushing in my fingers. I nod slowly, “my mom’s just being… out there.” She snorts, “I can tell.” She puts her hand out and my skin tingles as she brushes my elbow. “Need to blow off steam?” She offers slowly, “I’m going to go to this place after work with some friends.” “Oh,” my eyes go wide, “Oh!”

I suddenly had a lot to thank my mom for, and yet nothing at all.

Mari nods, “I get it.” She sniffs, “My mom pisses me off all the time, plus,” she grins. “I saw you like PBR.” I remember the joke post I made a year ago of a beer can.

I nod again.

-----------

I had two hours between when my shift ended and when I was supposed to be over at Mari’s, my heart was still racing. “Dana!” I called out from my closet, “tell me what to wear again.” “Nothing.” “No, the other thing.” “Hello Mr. President outfit.” She wasn’t looking up as she seemed to be trying to send twelve text messages all at once. I was on crew, and Dana apparently needed to update everyone on the theatre group chat about me. And my new love life.

“Uuugh,” I start to groan, “I need to look cool. Actually cool.”

Dana throws me a thumbs up, “you’re getting there.” I groan again and walk around in circles, “Okay,” I take a deep breath and gesture down, “black jeans.”

“Check,” Dana was nodding languidly as she typed.

“Blue ripped t-shirt.” “Sure?” “Just sure?” I almost tear the rest of the shirt off.

Dana jammed her phone in her back pocket and walked over, “your gonna do fine Feli,” she straightens her overly large sweater, “this is obvs going somewhere.” I cover my eyes, “straight to hell.” “Only if you sweet talk her just right!” She cheers and I walk around in another circle.

“I’m not cool,” I groan, “not like her. This can’t work.” Dana rolls her eyes exaggeratedly, “I think you’re cool.” I pause and glance over to her, “really?” I adjust the straps on my shirt.

“Well,” she scratches her neck, “Okay, technically I think being cool is overrated. But we’ll stick with the first version if that’s what’ll make you feel better.” “Oh-ho-ho,” I whimper and go drag myself to my bed. “This is why being gay is so hard. Only one in five of us is at all cool.” Dana shakes her head, “being gay makes you cool!” I frown at her deeply, “gimme some examples for me though. Do I even have funny stories?” Dana Kim stroked her chin thoughtfully before putting her hands in the air, “you refused to get into my grannie’s pool for the first five years I knew you because you said you were allergic to chlorine.” “Yes. Hilarious.” “And when you finally went in you did a cannonball! And threw up chips into the pool noodle, that was great.” I almost flip her off, “So I’m retiring at the ripe old age of 17. From life.” “Don’t be melodramatic,” she comes over next to me, “I thought it was a hilarious. We were super buddy best friends after that.” I let out a deep breath and glance over at her, “you think the word ‘weiner-dong’ shouted out in math class is funny.” She snickers, “I do.” I go to grab for my coat, “Mari doesn’t. She barely thought Finding Nemo was funny when we watched it in IB Spanish last year.” “That’s because she’s laaaaaa-” “Don’t say it.” Dana blows air out of her nose, “I know we, the gays, don’t have a lot of options-” “Don’t say it.” “But just be yourself Feli,” We both sit up and she puts her head on my shoulder, “it won’t be worth it if you aren’t.” I look up at the lazily spinning ceiling phone and go to grab my phone, “I’m wearing my combat boots.” Dana just snorts.

-------------

So I was at a party. A real party, a party party, with music and people and drinks with words I couldn’t pronounce on them. And I was suddenly very very aware I was alone there.

There was a thumping bass coming in through the floorboards and a whole slew of people I didn’t know standing on either side of me. The house was a rundown place I had to take the bus to from Wadsworth street and apparently owned by someone’s older brother.

There weren’t that many people there yet, but I was too busy counting the carpet hairs to really appreciate that. Dana had waved goodbye to me at the bus, wishing me all the luck in the world and seeing me off. I suddenly desperately wanted to hide behind her as she blew a raspberry to ‘lighten the mood’ at rundown parties like this.

I stare at my shoelaces again.

“Hey,” I hear a voice call, “hey, Felicity.” I feel the ice in my gut melt and I see Mari waving at me from an armchair across the room, thank God. I had been let in earlier with a couple people, but they said they didn’t know where Mari was, I creep over slowly.

“Hey there,” I put on a small smile, “thought I came to the wrong place.” She just shakes her head, she’s looking dimply and light for that night. “Nah,” she brushes her hair aside, “this is Jason’s place, he says we can hang here whenever.” “Nice,” I try to seem smooth and take a seat on the couch next to her. I search the air for a moment, “I’m glad we can hang outside of work. Less people asking me where flea collars are here.”

Mari gives an unknowable smile, she nods. “Have a drink.” She hands me an open beer and I try not to make a face at it. “You seem cool,” my heart soars as she hands it over, “better than anyone else Pet’s World at least.” I exhale and stifle my red face by throwing back the beer, it tastes like warm dirt. I shrug when I look back up, “A job is a job.” “Oh my God, yeah,” she rubs her nose, “my mom went on and on about how I had to do something this summer, like, come on. She’s lucky I don’t just drop out of school itself already.” “Right?” I try to sound sympathetic, the silver bracelets clang on Mari’s wrist, I can’t stop watching her mouth move. “One more year though.” I do a cheers with her with her our open cans.

Mari clinks with mine, “I hope.” She shakes her head, “I would just run away with my dog if I could.” I sit up straight and smile, “Bruce Lee?” I offer shyly, “where would you take him?” “Anywhere,” she wrinkled her nose, “dogs are better than people, I could take him anywhere and be alone and it would be better.” “Yeah,” I nod, but I’m shifting back and forth in place. I didn’t know what to ask her, did she like theatre? Did she like Skyrim? Books about outer space? She didn’t like people apparently.

“What about you,” she turns to me slowly, “where would you go?” I search my head, “New York?” That sounded neutral.

Mari takes another sip of her drink, “right on.” She nods, “what’s there?” I put my head on my shoulder and try to look nonchalant, “broadway and less hay fever.” I joke.

Mari lifts her eyebrows, “I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” she looks me over, “is that what all the sniffling was about?” I freeze, she had noticed.

I gulp dryly, “grass seeds here,” I gesture around in the air, “it totally fucking sucks at work.” She eyes me, “I bet.” My skin crawls and I wished I could bring up something we both liked, something that wasn’t hay fever. “My mom is totally lame about it though.” Mari’s eyes focus on me.

“What, she tell you it’s all in your head?” Mari’s lips were curling up, I had a feeling there was a story though.

“No, she makes me take like, fifteen supplements a day, and most of them aren’t even FDA approved,” I feel the rant start bubbling up out of me, “and I swear, one of them gave me awful cramps for a week.” “Supplements?” She looks me over curiously and I wish I hadn’t mentioned cramps.

I shift on the lumpy couch, “like, uh, cloves and herbs. It’s hippie-” “Oh man, I wish my mom bought me more herbs. I have to do all my wicca shopping offline, and that was before she took away my credit card.” My heart sank, something was feeling off in my gut, I take another huge sip of my bear and try to disappear into the heavy beat of the bass.

I wasn’t feeling very cool.

---------------

“Because he’s a jolly good fellow, because he’s a jolly good fellow, oh!” I was clapping my hands and singing along with everyone else, my head was fuzzy. There was something stuck on my jeans but I hadn’t bothered to take it off yet.

Someone was whooping and there was a bottle on a table, I felt like I was in some 80s movie where the cheesy pop ballad was playing that showed I was having ‘fun.’ I wasn’t sure what I was having, but I hadn’t thought about what I was saying for at least an hour now.

“Woo, good song mate.” Someone clapped the person who’s turn it just was, having been tasked to sing any song he liked for two minutes straight. He gave them a thumbs up after his very drawn-out birthday song.

There were cards spread out on the table and I was leaning Mari’s shoulder as my thoughts spun round and round. She was texting on her phone and someone was pointing.

“Mari’s turn, Mari’s turn!”

“I’m busy.” She waves her hand in the hair and I’m giggling into nothing.

“We should get a dog… and put it in a hat,” I’m mumbling, which I’m grateful for when I remember this moment hours later.

“Have her do it then,” someone jostled my shoulder. “You’re Mari’s friend, right?” I just nod unthinkingly, it was nice not to think. “I’m Feli-Felicity.” “Spin the bottle girl!” Someone puts my hand on a large brown bottle and I look around to everyone.

“As long as I don’t get the joker,” we were playing ‘cards spin the bottle,’ whatever card the bottle landed on you have to do. Ace was chug a bear, king was kiss someone, queen was order someone else around for the night (if they got a 2). Joker was act an embarrassing moment from your life.

I give the brown bottle a mighty spin. Someone whispered from beside me, “Get this kid some water.” Someone hands me a water, which I chug as we all watch the head of the bottle go around and around. I watch it steadily as I try to catch Mari’s eye again, she isn’t looking up.

“There it goes!” My eyes snap back into focus and the lip of the bottle slows one inch at a time, my eyes go wide, it hovers to a dead stop.

Someone claps me on the shoulder, “Woo! That’s the seven.” I lick my lips again, “what’s the seven again?” I look both directions, someone snickers.

“That’s seven minutes in heaven sweetie.”

My eyes go a little wide, “oh.” “Mari,” one of the older boys slaps Mari’s back, “Mari, take your little gayling to the closet.”

“What?” She blinks up, her pretty brown eyes framed by purple eyeshadow that day. Someone points down to the bottle and she makes a slight face, she glances back to me and I feel myself go pale.

She observes me for a moment and then takes my arm, “I guess I’m the chosen one.” She smiles a little bit and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

I stumble up and try to follow her to where someone was holding open a closet door and people were making woof whistles.

“Seven minutes,” someone cheered and held up their phone watch. I’m not looking at them, I’m looking at the back of Mari Santiago’s neck where her little dark neck hairs mixed with the blue ones.

I shiver, “you don’t have to-” The closet door swings shut just behind us and I try to find myself among the mess of impulses and sudden realizations. Is this how you get from point A to point B? Is this how you get a girl.

We both sit down at once and I open and close my mouth a for a second, “you don’t have to do anything.” I say wetly as I swallow.

Her eyes shine a little in the dark. “Duh.” She takes out her phone again, she’s not looking at me.

I struggle for something, for something. “You go to the play last year?” I almost want to bring up that the light effects were all me.

She just shakes her head, “nah.” My stomach sinks and I realize something that I didn’t want to say. I look down at my hands and flex my fingers back and forth.

Mari blows air of her mouth and I look up, “but, look.” “What?” I say too loudly for the cramped space.

“You’re actually pretty cute.” My mouth is open, but nothing comes out, she leans forward and flicks the hair off her forehead, “the crush is kinda cute.” I hold my breath for a long second and before I can protest that it I hoped I wasn’t too obvious, it all gets cut off. “Let’s play, they all want us to.”

She reaches over and I feel a soft press of lips against lips, an electric feel of a kiss in the dark, at a party with something buzzing through my system. I close my eyes and wait.

And wait.

Something swirls and chugs and sinks in me like the titanic, my face falls and the rest of me crumples from the inside out. I had done everything right, I had got the job, I had done the lines, I had gone to the party.

I went to the closet.

If I was with Dana I would make a joke that it was pretty ironica I was having my first gay kiss in a closet, but she wasn’t here. Instead, I had a grey empty feeling in the depths of my gut sinking in, no fireworks, no world-shattering touch.

Just, wet lips, cracked skin, the taste of mushy cigarettes and bad perfume. I try to lean into and tell myself this is what I wanted. But she tasted like smoke and something bitter.

I close my eyes and kiss a little harder, waiting, waiting, for it. I push her toward the wall and try again.

And then I hear a timer outside, “that’s it!” Someone calls, “come out love birds.” I look down at my hands again and Mari laughs, “woo,” she wipes her lips, “you’re kinda fierce,” she laughs again and I realize it’s because I pushed her back.

My first kiss was in a closet at someone’s house I didn’t know in a closet with a girl I had very very little in common with.

We crawl out of the closet and people laugh as I rub my eyes in the new light and Mari wipes her mouth. “Well that was something.” I start to stumble as I reach for my phone, “hey,” I wave, “I totally didn’t notice it was almost two.” Mari lifted her eyebrows, “was I that bad?” I laugh, “no.” I try to grin, “you were great.” I wink and she seems to preen at that, though I didn’t know how to tell her like it was nothing like I wanted. “But I think it sobered me up enough to realize that I’m super late.” “Well,” she turns around, “do you what you need to do.” I take some heavy steps to the door, “yeah… I’ll have to see at work.” My eyes are unfocused.

She’s shrugging and picking up her drink again, “see you around.” I nod and purse my lips as I fumble for my jacket and someone hands me a water bottle as I head for the door. In retrospect I wonder why no one called me an uber or asked if I’d be alright, I start walking home alone.

------------

I’m sitting on a hill, the scratchy yellow grass under my ass and the faintest hint of the sun on the horizon, just a little golden light kissing the lip of the earth in the distance. I have two discarded water bottles next to me and I am staring blurrily out into the cityscape.

A clunky little yellow car passes in the distance and I wipe at my eyes again. The breeze felt barely there that day and something aches all over, especially in my chest.

I probably shouldn’t have walked home for an hour and a half, I probably shouldn’t have gone to sit on this hill, I probably shouldn’t have let my phone die after sending just one text. Another black car passes in the distance and hear the squeak of tires.

I lay my head on my arms and feel a dull pounding in the back of my skull, it was just one of those days. I feel my eyes droop down and only pause when I hear more soft footsteps.

“Feli?” I don’t react, I just clutch my dead phone in my hands a little harder. Dana wheels her bike up behind me and places it in the grass next to us.

“That bad, huh?”

I glance up ever so slightly, she was still wearing her striped pajama pants and a sweater from the college her sister when to, plus an ancient dodgers baseball cap. I slump to the side and put an arm over my eyes.

“I guess we’re even,” I say hoarsely, my voice feeling raw and delicate. “What’s that,” she nudges me with her foot.

“Now both of our first kisses sucked.” “Lord Feli,” she reaches down for me, “you look like a mess, up you go.” I groan at the hand placed in front of my face, “I’m still not feeling so hot.” “I know, I brought you water, an aspirin, and mouthwash.” That gets me slowly teetering to my feet. “Sometimes you are a good friend.” “Always!” She defends with slight laugh, “plus I want the juicy trainwreck details.” “It wasn’t a trainwreck,” I take the aspirin from her and chug it down. She grumbles something about ‘getting drunk for the first time without her.’ “It was…” I fade off and sigh heavily instead.

“Come on,” she takes my arm, “let’s get in the back of Deadman’s dead truck.” I stop in place and try to take the mouthwash from her instead, “I thought we both agreed that thing was haunted.” Dana adjusts her backward baseball cap, “then let’s go make friends with a ghost. It’s a night for firsts.” “Day,” I correct and start swishing around mouthwash for a minute.

Dana messages her temples, “in the truck. In the truck.” She chants and I make an exaggerated slumping motion before following her to the back of the once blue vehicle.

We climb into the truck bed and the thing creaks and heaves at us as we settle in among the vines and rust that decorated the inside. I wipe my hands down when we end leaning on the sides and staring at each other.

“It’s private now,” She leans forward, “tell me what’s up.”

I look off to the side, letting my headache pound softly and my heart sink. “There’s like four gay girls at our school.” “I guess,” she says slowly, “I’m still waiting one like, five of them to come out. You’ve seen the way Patsy looks at me.” “No, I mean,” I push my bangs back, “there’s only like five percent of the whole entire population that’s girls that like girls.” I frown deeply, “and how many of those are we actually compatible with? That actually live near us?” I feel my eyes welling up.

Dana reaches over, she takes my hand and squeezes it firmly, “Come on Fel,” she says softly, “look at it positively, I know you’re a romantic deep down, I’ve read your blog.” I feel the water started leaking out, I wipe at it angrily, “I’m just saying!” I rub my eyes down ruthlessly, “the odds aren’t even in our favor.” Dana’s face squished up into something indescribable, “I don’t think it’s good to think about.”

“I am thinking about it!” I mope back, “I’m thinking about how much I thought I liked Mariana Santiago and the fact that she’s just like… a super different person than me.” “What did you expect?” “Daaaaan,” I whine, “not helping.” She scoots closer to me and weaves our fingers together, “maybe that’s just how it is, maybe it’ll just be a little hard for us.” She holds my hand tightly, “but it’s not like it’s over. It’s not like… we can’t try again. That we can’t just look around us.” I raise my eyebrows and peer over to her, “look around us?” She shrugs loosely and doesn’t meet my eye, “if you think it’s not gonna work, then it’s not gonna work, you have to believe that it can happen Fel. Aren’t you supposed to be the positive one out of us?” I start to hum deeply, “and aren’t you the silly one of us?” I ask softly and she scratches her chin.

“We’re all a lot of things,” Our eyes meet hesitantly, she sprouts a grin, “and it sounds like you just had a really really bad first kiss.” I slump over, “and now I work at Pet’s World with her.”

Dana laughs with her hand over her mouth, “that is kinda funny.” “It’s kinda sad,” I hang my head, “I’m never gonna find love. Like, ever. I’ll go to college a virgin, and leave that way too probably. Maybe I’m not even gay?” “Ugh,” Dana pokes me, “sad Felicity is the worst.” She pokes me again, “she doesn’t even listen.” I lift my head and our eyes meet again, I see Dana searching for something there. “But I’m also the stupid one so what do I know.”

I lean toward her, “can I be the stupid one too?” She grins softly and I join her, “oh, you can definitely be the dumbest.” “I guess, I just have to,” I blink a couple times, “look around me.”

She opens her mouth, and then closes it, she bites her lip before almost stuttering, “Only if you want to…” Dana blushes delicately and I feel her squirm next to me, I feel my lips turn up. “I’m sure. What were you always saying? I just have to try.” We both stare at each other for a very long minute.

Something creaks in the truck, it moves me. I lift her hand up to my lips, kissing the knuckles there gently and I feel something I didn’t know existed squiggle in my gut. I wait for her to lift her chin again and then I keep leaning forward.

“Dan,” I say slowly, “only if you want to.”

We pressed forward and Dana gasped gently as I kissed her, small and perfect across the lips and I feel a tingle go through something deep inside of me.

It was a little dry and off center, but my heart had picked up this time, it melted and oozed and maybe I was sweating a little bit too much. But I feel it, the electric slide, the commercial in my heart that was advertising the maranga.

The little pinwheel that kept going around and around in my head that jammed and stopped, I kissed her, and the whole thing froze. The sunrises in my mouth and the fireworks shoot off as our lips move against each other.

We part for a moment before coming back together more firmly and harsh, she takes my face in between her hands and we come together like that for a long long moment.

She only snickers once into my mouth, “you, not gay?” She lifts her eyes with a snort, “ridiculous.” I bite my lip and look her in the eye, “Actually,” I say, “totally straight,” I kiss her bottom lip, “but I’m sure you could convert me.” She takes my hand, “I’ll do what I can.” She scoots closer, “We could call it a summer camp even.”

I look her up and down, “I always heard everyone at band camp was gay.” She wraps her arms around my neck and hoods her eyes, “we’ll have to make music then.” I push on her shoulder as I laugh and shake my head, “don’t be a dork.” “Make me!” We come together once more with the sun our back and rust on my jeans, but there’s something sweet and melting inside of me, rising at the same time. I kiss her, and I somehow make it from all the way behind the finish line to the start.

There were so many more points to reach.

#wlw #sapphic #girls love #femslash February #original story #original writing #slice of life #humor

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