#i rly hope i didnt accidentally call brandon 'brad' somewhere in this asdfgh i did that while writing oops

[voidofwords]

hopelessly devoted

here’s a short wlw story i wrote! ngl i came up with everything, including the characters, as i went, but i ended up pretty happy with it!

Her grin is so bright when she looks at me. “Syd,” she says, beaming. “You won’t believe it!”

He said yes. I smile at her and tell the sinking feeling in my stomach to fuck off. “What?” I ask, with as much excitement as I can muster. 

Jasmine turns her phone screen towards me so I can see the messages between her and Brandon, but she’s waving the phone around excitedly and it’s impossible to even get a glimpse of what the messages say. Fortunately for me, and I would like my sarcasm here to be noted, she is kind enough to also tell me the news herself:

“He said yes!” She squeals, grabbing me by the arm and shaking my whole body. “Brandon said yes to go on a date with me! I’m going on a date with Brandon.”

For a moment, my brain is so fixated on the fact that Jasmine is touching my arm, it forgets how to do anything else. But I manage to kick it back into action and plaster on my most convincing I’m-so-happy-for-you-and-not-at-all-screaming-inside smile. “Jas, that’s great! That’s amazing!”

She nods eagerly, her deep brown eyes looking into mine. “You have to help me prepare for the date. I don’t even know what to wear!”

That actually makes me grin for real. “Come on, Jas, we both know you have way better style than me.”

She giggles and shakes her head. “Shut up, I love your whole, like, tomboy thing. Your style is amazing. But I just meant I want you there for emotional support.”

“Oh. Right.” Did Jasmine just tell me she loves my style? I am fighting so fucking hard to keep my brain from going into overdrive. I try to smile, but I think it’s more of a grimace. “Of course I’ll be there,” I tell her. “That’s what friends are for.” 

-

I don’t want to move. I don't want to get up. The alarm on my phone went off five minutes ago to let me know it was time to go to Jasmine’s house, but I think I might just lie here forever. What’s the point? She probably won’t even care if I come. She’ll be too fixated on her date with Brandon later to even notice if I’m there or not. 

Brandon is popular and has abs and is apparently super hot and charming - I don’t get it, but sure - and I’m just Syd, the tragic gay idiot, in love with my best friend. If this was a movie, Jasmine would be the main character. Of course she would. And I’d be the edgy queer-coded friend who’s mostly there for comic relief and emotional support. My life is a fucking joke. 

Because I might as well give the merciless gods watching my tragedy unfold something to laugh about, and because I’d be an asshole if I stood up my best friend right before her big date, I get up. There’s no point wallowing in my self-pity any more than necessary. 

Jasmine’s arms are around me the second she opens the door. It’s a signature Jasmine hug, tight and squeezy and enthusiastic, the kind that leaves me out of breath for more than one reason. 

“Syd! I was starting to worry you wouldn’t come.” She takes a step back and looks at me with her puppy-like eyes and I ask myself how the hell I’m going to get through today.

I shoot her what I hope looks like an apologetic smile. “Sorry. But I’m here!” I take in her worn-in sweatpants and oversized Mickey Mouse t-shirt. She still looks fucking amazing - this girl could literally wear anything and still look like a goddess - but I highly doubt this is what she’s planning on wearing for her date with Brandon. 

“I take it you haven’t found out what to wear yet,” I say. “Or is the date more of a Disney-themed pyjama party?” 

That makes her laugh. “No you silly goose! Brandon is taking me to dinner, and then to see a movie.” She takes my hand, and I freeze up as she pulls me inside the house and toward her room. “I need your input on what to wear.”

“You’d probably be better off without it, you know.” I smile as I imagine Brandon’s face if Jasmine showed up to their date in my battered jeans and too-big flannel. But I quickly chase the image away, because the thought of Jasmine wearing my clothes is too much to handle right now. 

Jasmine picks up two dresses from her bed and holds them both out to me. “Which one do you like the best?”

I have seen her in both of them before, but they’re usually what she wears around her older conservative family members, not when she is out having fun. Both of them are very modest, while still being pretty. 

“What happened to the other ones?” I ask, because I know her favourite dress is either the sleeveless floral one or the cute flowy one. 

Jasmine shrugs and smiles a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Brandon texted me saying he doesn’t want me wearing anything too revealing, since we’ll be out in public.” 

What the fuck. “Brandon is telling you what to wear?” 

“No. He’s just giving me some pointers on what not to wear!”

I stare at Jasmine, who is still smiling like she actually thinks this is fine. “Jasmine, that’s still shitty behavior. He doesn’t have the right to do that!” 

She shrugs again. “It’s fine. I don’t mind! It narrows down my choices, and you know it’s hard for me to decide what to wear. Besides, I like these dresses too!” 

“Jas.” I sigh. “Are you sure you wanna go out with this guy?”

Jasmine laughs, as if in disbelief. “What? Of course I do! It’s Brandon.” 

“I just…” I’m definitely overstepping here, but I can’t stop myself. “I don’t get what you see in him.” 

“Oh, well, you know. He’s handsome and funny and… popular and…” She trails off for a second before looking up at me. For once she isn’t smiling. “I just like him, okay? I’m sorry your standards are so impossibly high. I’ve never even seen you express interest in a guy!” 

Is she kidding me right now? “I don’t…” Now it’s my turn to be speechless. 

Jasmine sighs, like she is giving up on me, and picks up one of the dresses again. “I’ll just go with this one.”

I’m worried she will change in front of me like we did when we were younger, but she goes to the bathroom to change. Thank fuck; there’s only so much I can handle in one day. 

When she comes back out, her brilliant smile is back. Her eyes look a little red, but it’s impossible to tell if it’s because she has been crying. I open my mouth to say something but before I can, she spins around to show off her dress. 

“What do you think?”

“It’s nice.” It is nice, of course it is, that’s not the problem. The problem is, it isn’t the kind of thing I know Jasmine likes to wear. But this time, I don’t say anything.

She grabs a box of her nicest makeup stuff and sits on the bed. “Will you help me with my makeup?”

“You want my help with your makeup?” I let out a laugh. “Jas.” I know how to do makeup decently, but I never wear it, so I don’t have anything close to the kind of practice she has. 

“Syd.” She laughs too. “It’ll be fun! Just like old times!”

That is true. When we were kids, Jasmine used to “borrow” her mom’s makeup, and we would take turns making each other look “beautiful”. It was a disaster, but the best kind. 

“Alright,” I say. “But I hope Brandon won’t be upset when you show up to the date with lipstick smeared across your face like a clown.” 

I sit down on the bed with her and help her pick out what I think would look good with her dress. 

It goes smoothly, until I have to do her eyeliner.

“This is a bit tricky,” I say, moving closer. “Please don’t be mad if I do a bad job.”

“I’m sure you’re doing a great job, Syd.” She smiles with her eyes still closed. 

“Stop talking, I’m trying to concentrate.” 

By some miracle, I manage to make it look good and symmetrical. I’m actually kind of proud of myself. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

But I’m not prepared for when she actually does, and I realize how little space there suddenly is between us. 

Our faces are so close I can smell her minty breath. Her eyes are locked with mine, and I have officially forgotten how to breathe. I think time might have stopped, just for us. And then, she fucking looks at my lips. There’s no mistaking it. She is looking right at my lips, with her own slightly parted. 

And that’s when I make the stupid, idiotic, wonderful mistake of kissing her. Fucking hell, it may be a mistake but it’s the best one I’ve ever made. Her lips are so, so soft. Holy shit. Is this how I die? Am I actually going to die kissing Jasmine? I think I’m okay with that. I think that is how I want to go. 

But before I even have time to register what a bad idea this is, she breaks the kiss and moves away from me on the bed. She is staring at me with a mix of shock and betrayal. Well, shit. She reaches up to touch her lips, like she can’t quite believe they were actually touching mine just a moment before. “Why would you do that?” she whispers, her brown eyes as puppy-like as ever. Though this time, it’s more like a puppy that has been kicked by its owner. 

“I… I don’t know,” I choke out. “Fuck. Jasmine-”

She shakes her head and stands up abruptly. “I have to go.” Her voice is shaky. “My date is waiting.” 

-

Fuck this shit. Fuck the universe and fuck Brandon and most of all, fuck me and my lack of impulse control.

I have successfully ruined everything. Yay. Not only have i completely screwed up my relationship with my only real friend, I have also probably ruined her date with the guy she likes.

At this point, all I can do about it is go outside and touch some grass. There is an old park in our neighborhood that no one visits anymore, and it’s the perfect place if you want to be alone with your misery and self-loathing. I guess you could say I come here often. 

I sit down against the trunk of a tree and look up at the sky. It’s cloudy, but the kind of cloudy where the clouds look like bunnies and hearts and shit. I guess looking at clouds is a better use of my time than replaying the events of today over and over and hating myself more with every passing second. 

I don’t even know how much time passes but suddenly, I feel another person close to me. I start, convinced I’m about to be murdered or kidnapped, but when I turn, I see Jasmine. 

She sits down next to me and offers me a shaky smile. This time she definitely has been crying. She kinda still is. 

I don’t know whether I should say something, so I just sit there and look at her. She looks down at her own hands, and doesn’t speak for a long time. I’m about to open my own cursed mouth, when she finally speaks. 

“I’m so sorry, Syd.”

I stare at her, my brain not computing. “You’re sorry? What the hell do you have to be sorry for?”

“I was a total… a total dingus earlier!” If I didn’t feel so fucked right now, I would have smiled at Jasmine’s adorable inability to swear, maybe even gently teased her about it. But I don’t. I sit quietly as she continues: “I have been for years, haven’t I? Completely clueless.”

“What?” I don’t know what she is on about, but if she means clueless about my embarrassing crush on her, then yes, she has been. I can’t blame her, though. I mean, I did try to hide it, and for good reason. 

“I left the date with Brandon early.”

I feel like an ass for it, but I’m happy to hear that. Not because I’m naive enough to think it means anything for me, but because Brandon is such a punchable fucking idiot, and definitely not good enough for Jasmine. “Oh,” is what I say. “Did you not have a good time?”

She finally looks at me. “I left because of you, Syd.” 

Fuck. “Jasmine, I’m so fucking sorry. I never should’ve-”

“Stop,” she says, and I do. “I left because I realized you were right. I don’t like Brandon.” She lets out a shaky laugh. Her eyes are brimming with tears. “It probably shouldn’t have taken you kissing me to realize it, but… Yeah, well, I’m an idiot.”

My heart and brain seem to have made a collective decision to stop functioning. I stare at her, not sure if any of this is really happening. Maybe I’m misinterpreting what she is saying. Yeah, that seems like the only logical-

My half-panicked thoughts are cut off by Jasmine leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. She is still teary-eyed, but she is also smiling softly as she moves close enough that our shoulders are touching. “I don’t think I even like guys at all,” she whispers. “And… well. I’m pretty sure I like you. A lot.”

She is looking at me expectantly, but I am stunned into silence. My brain short-circuited long ago and left me useless and unable to do anything other than stare at her in disbelief. 

“Syd.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “Please say something, I am freaking out over here!”

“Shit. Yeah. Sorry.” I shake my head, slowly kicking myself back into action. “I like you a lot too. But I probably made that pretty obvious earlier, didn’t I?” I chuckle nervously, meeting her eyes. My heart is still going haywire, has been since she fucking kissed me. I don’t think I’ve fully processed that yet. “Sorry, this is… a lot.”

Jasmine grins. “Yeah, tell me about it. Twelve hours ago I thought I was the straightest person ever and that I liked Brandon? And now it turns out I’ve been a lesbian the whole time! God, that feels weird to say, but… Also like such a relief? Like part of me has known for way longer.” 

I almost don’t have the courage to do it, but I reach out and take her hand. Our fingers interlock. When she puts her head on my shoulder, I almost start to tense up, out of habit I guess, but I tell myself to relax. 

The moment feels so precious, so uniquely ours, that I’m afraid I’ll ruin it if I speak. So I close my eyes and savour the way Jasmine’s soft body is pressed against mine, and I pray that this moment never ends.