Chapter Text
They’re quiet at first. Leah doesn’t purposefully not talk at first; she just can’t think of anything to say. After the first five minutes, after Martha gets the route set up on her phone so they won’t get lost, Leah says, “Thank you. You know, for doing this with me.”
She can’t remember if she ever thanked Martha before. She should’ve.
“Of course,” Martha says, “but I’m surprised you asked me instead of Fatin.”
Because you hauled Fatin all the way out to New York, too goes unspoken.
Leah grunts. “It’s complicated.”
“It didn’t look too complicated last night.”
Leah hesitates. “We aren’t…together.”
Martha blinks. “Do you want to be?”
It’s such a simple question, yet Leah still says, “I – I don’t know.”
Martha shrugs. “Well, you had me fooled. And Rachel asked me when you two officially, um, well, she said it a certain way –”
“Just say it, Martha.”
“She asked when you two upgraded from fuckbuddies to girlfriends? I didn’t know how to answer that.”
Leah cracks a smile, turns a snort into a cough. “Since when does Rachel care about my business with Fatin?”
“I think she’s always cared and just doesn’t want to admit it.”
Leah feels her muscles relax. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her hoodie – actually, she thinks it’s Martha’s hoodie, but she doesn’t remember when or why she took it from Martha. And somehow – Leah really doesn’t know how this happened – the hoodie smells like Fatin’s perfume.
“I don’t know what to do,” Leah admits. “I mean – shit, you don’t even know.”
Leah sighs as Martha’s eyebrows pull together and she asks, “Know what?”
“Back in LA – before Gretchen’s trial was over – Fatin, um, slipped up and told me she loves me.” Leah talks faster before Martha can interrupt. “And I mean, I didn’t handle it well, obviously, but I kind of implied that she shouldn’t move on and – maybe I implied that she should wait for me? So I’m sure I’m hurting her, but I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know if – what if I ask her out and fuck her up the way Jeff fucked me up?”
As Martha chews on that question, Leah chews on her lower lip. “First of all,” Martha says, “there’s no way you could ever fuck Fatin up the way Jeff fucked you up.”
Leah winces. “Okay, but still, what if I – I’m already hurting her now by being fucking indecisive, but what if we get together and I hurt her worse?”
“We hurt people we love,” Martha says simply. “It’s not great, but it happens. Maybe it’s what happens after that matters more, though. You know? Like how you handle it.”
“When did you get so wise?”
“If you ask Fatin, probably after Jayden defiled me.”
They snicker, and when Leah exhales, she tries to release some of her anxiety with it. “What if it doesn’t work?” Leah asks quietly. “What if we try, and I realize I don’t feel how I thought I did?”
“Leah, no offense,” Martha says, “but it’s kind of really obvious how much you’re into Fatin. It’s all over your face every time you look at her and when you talk about her. I think you’re worrying for no reason. And even if it doesn’t work forever, it’s better to try something when you want it, before the opportunity passes, right? Obviously Fatin is into you –”
“I don’t know,” Leah blurts. “Maybe it’s changed.”
“She said she loves you.”
“Yeah, but she’s been…backing off.”
“She was all over you last night!” Martha exclaims. “She’s been sleeping in the same bed with you! The way she looks at you is sickening, no offense. I’m almost positive she’s still into you. You’re psyching yourself out for no reason; you know where she stands. She’s probably just giving you space to work your stuff out.”
“You’re right,” Leah says. “Shit.”
“I can’t believe you needed to talk to me to confirm that you like Fatin,” Martha snorts.
“It’d be crazy if I loved her, right?”
“You went through a lot together. I think it’d probably be crazy if you didn’t love her, after all of that.”
Leah inhales sharply, realizes she’s going to have to put how she feels into words and actually say them out loud to Fatin. Somehow, Leah’s anxiety doubles, but at the same time, she feels relieved. She should’ve talked to Martha sooner.
“Thank you,” Leah breathes.
“I think I just said what you were afraid to think yourself,” Martha says. “But you’re welcome. Now please go say something to Fatin.”
“Yeah, that’s the hard part, isn’t it?” Leah mutters.
“I don’t think anything bad can happen between you two,” Martha says with such confidence that Leah forces herself to believe it. “I think the trial is going to be hard. And you’ll have me and Rachel and Nora, but I think you’re going to need Fatin.”
“She knows I need her. But I don’t get – why would she need me? I just dump all this shit on her. I make her life way more difficult than it needs to be. I don’t – why would she want me?”
Martha hesitates. “I don’t know if I can answer that for you.”
“No, I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Maybe you should bring that up to Fatin instead,” Martha suggests. “You might have to actually talk instead of just having sex.”
Leah feels her face heat up. “Okay, we haven’t even had sex since we were in Los Angeles – since before the trial ended.”
“Sure, I believe that,” Martha scoffs.
“It’s true!” Leah insists. Martha laughs and Leah shakes her head. She needs to steer this conversation somewhere else. “So how’s Jayden?” Leah prompts.
“Great,” Martha answers. “He’s legit thinking about moving to Minnesota, and I know it seems fast, but he’s – I really like him.”
“You should go for it,” Leah says. “If the island taught us anything, it’s not to wait too long, right?”
“Is that what it taught us?” Martha questions, tapping her chin with her finger. “I wonder who else might be able to take that advice?”
“Oh, don’t even,” Leah grumbles. “I’m gonna talk to Fatin.”
The Reid residence comes into view, and Martha grabs Leah’s arm to stop her from heading in. “Look, I know you didn’t ask,” Martha says quietly, “but Jeff didn’t ruin you. He didn’t destroy your ability to love other people. And you probably should look into getting a therapist once you’re back in California. If not because of the island, then because of Jeff. I’ve already got my mom searching for options for me – but you aren’t damaged. I know you didn’t ask, but I think Fatin would be lucky to have you.”
Leah swallows hard, doesn’t trust herself to speak, so she settles for nodding. When they walk inside, Mrs. Reid immediately asks why they didn’t text her to pick them up. They brush off her concerns and jump into helping to make dinner.
Martha doesn’t stay long, because her phone buzzes with a call from Jayden, and she rushes off as Rachel shouts after her, “Get it, Marty!” Leah wonders when Rachel started using the same nickname for Martha as Toni, wonders what else she’s missed over the last few months while she was absorbed with her own shit. She wonders if she’ll ever be able to make up for it.
Before Leah can ask Fatin to talk, Rachel says, “Leah, I need to see you for a minute.”
Leah tears her eyes away from Fatin, away from her hands deftly slicing through vegetables, and says, “Um, okay.”
Rachel leads them to Nora’s room because Martha’s giggling on the phone with Jayden in Rachel’s room. Rachel shuts the door, and Leah shifts her weight until Rachel says, “Let’s cut the shit. You and Fatin – when did that shit happen?”
Leah huffs. “Please. You’ve known that we’ve been –”
“Fucking, but I didn’t know you were doing the relationship thing.”
“I didn’t realize you were so interested in our business,” Leah says.
Rachel rolls her eyes but doesn’t quite deny it. “My mom asked when you two got together and how you managed to avoid the media circus when everything leaked, and I had no idea what to tell her. But obviously something changed.”
“I’m surprised you noticed.”
“How could I not? You’ve been shoving it in our faces.” Rachel smiles. “But good for you, I guess. God knows I couldn’t handle Fatin.”
“We’re technically not together. Yet.”
Rachel looks doubtful “Get on it, then. Clearly you should be.”
“Is your mom worried about how Fatin and I are sharing the guest room or something?” Leah asks.
“I don’t think she cares,” Rachel replies. “I haven’t heard you two through the wall recently, but if that starts back up, maybe then she’ll care.”
“Can we not?” Leah sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Oh, so I can hear you fuck Fatin, but we can’t talk about it?”
“Yep,” Leah says, which is so ridiculous they both bust out laughing. Rachel lets that be the end of the conversation, thankfully, and as they’re walking out of Nora’s room, Leah’s eyes linger on Nora’s bookshelves. They fall on the picture framed and sitting atop Nora’s dresser. A picture of Quinn Miller. Smiling. Even knowing Gretchen will be sentenced soon doesn’t erase the bitter feeling that photo leaves Leah with.
*
Dinner interrupts Leah’s plan to talk to Fatin, and after dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Reid insist on taking them all for dessert. When they get back, the Reids challenge Fatin to a rematch of Scrabble, and Fatin can’t say no. She needs to prove she’s the Scrabble Queen, and the Reids fail to beat Fatin again. They triple check the score, like that’s going to change the fact that Fatin won again, like it’ll stop Fatin from gloating again.
“Maybe Leah can beat her,” Nora says.
“Unlikely,” Fatin dismisses.
“I could totally beat Fatin at Scrabble,” Leah claims. “But that’s not a fight I’m looking to pick.”
“This is why you’re the smart one,” Fatin says. She taps her fingertip against Leah’s nose then drops down next to her on the couch. “How many times do you think I’ll have to beat them at Scrabble before they give up?” Fatin whispers.
“Are you cheating?” Leah asks bluntly.
“What? No!” Fatin exclaims. “How do you even cheat at Scrabble?”
Fair. “Then I don’t know. You might have to play every night until we fly home.”
Fatin makes a face. “Ew. Home. I kind of like it here.”
“Here like in New York or here like with the Reids?”
Fatin shrugs, leans her weight against Leah. “Both? The city is cool. Rachel and Nora have cool parents. It’s chill.”
Leah presses her lips together and glances around. No one’s paying attention to them. Nora and her parents are cleaning up the game and lamenting losing to Fatin again. Martha went off to FaceTime Toni and Shelby. Rachel’s in the kitchen getting something to drink. Everyone’s out of earshot.
“I can’t stay in this state,” Leah says quietly. “He lives here. Even if he’s convicted and they don’t imprison him here, I’ll always know…” Leah inhales sharply. “I know you wouldn’t base a decision to leave California around me –”
“Leah. Relax,” Fatin cuts in. She grabs onto Leah’s knee, smiles. “I’m not leaving. I’m just happy that I’m not stuck alone with my parents right now.”
“Oh.”
Rachel joins them, killing their conversation, and Leah forgets about the idea of leaving California, forgets about how Fatin has to return home to a splintered family. Fatin keeps holding onto her knee, keeps leaning into her as Mr. and Mrs. Reid head to bed for the night.
Rachel prepares to get a movie going, and Nora and Martha materialize in the room with them. Fatin nudges Leah to move over on the couch to make space for Martha and Rachel, and Rachel says, “Fatin, stay out of my lap tonight. Got it?”
“You need to get the stick out of your ass, Rachel,” Fatin replies, throwing her a wink.
“Just for that, I’m picking a horror movie.”
“Oh, God,” Fatin complains. She gets to her feet and holds her hands out to Leah. “Come on. Let me take you to bed.”
Leah doesn’t tell Fatin that she’s grateful they don’t have to sit through the slasher film that Rachel selected. She follows Fatin to the guest room and shuts the door behind them while Fatin’s flinging herself down on the center of the bed.
“You want to sit on my face?” Fatin asks.
Leah’s eyes widen. “Fatin, we can’t –”
Fatin laughs. “I know, but that made you blush.”
Leah sighs, rubs at her jaw. “Fatin, I think we need to talk.”
Fatin’s expression turns serious as she pushes herself up. “Right. Your meeting. How’d it go?”
Leah joins Fatin on the bed, sits with her legs crossed. Fatin mimics Leah, sits facing her. Leah stares down at her hands, finds that easier than meeting Fatin’s gaze.
“That’s not actually what I wanted to talk about.”
Fatin’s eyebrows raise. “Oh? Okay, then what do you want to talk about?”
“Fatin, I love you.”
That’s not what Leah meant to say. And she certainly didn’t mean to say it five seconds after finally bringing herself to look Fatin in the eye. She was supposed to give, like, a whole speech and then hit Fatin with it. With the truth. There was so much Leah was supposed to explain first, but maybe it’s all unnecessary. Fatin’s expression shifts to something closer to disbelief mixed with elation mixed with caution. Leah winces and has to refuse the sudden urge to pull at her eyebrow.
“You’re sure?” Fatin says, breathlessly.
“Yes. I feel like I can’t breathe without you. And I feel like I’m drowning when you aren’t around. So I’m sure, but I don’t – I don’t get why you’d want me,” Leah says. She can’t look at Fatin again, stares at the back of her hands, at her skin that’s been well-moisturized for weeks because Fatin’s been forcing her to take the excess lotion off of her hands every morning and night. “I talked to Martha after the meeting, and I – I need you, but you don’t – you don’t need me. You never have.”
Leah curses her voice for breaking. Fatin leans forward to grab Leah’s hands, waits until Leah lifts her eyes back to Fatin’s face.
“Come on,” Fatin says. “You have to know that’s not fucking true. I haven’t been sleeping in your bed since we got back for you. I mean, that sounds bad, but honestly, Leah, I’ve only been able to sleep because you’ve been there. And I only got through Gretchen’s trial because of you.”
“You have Dot –”
“Believe me, it is not the same.”
“Just because we’re fucking.”
“No, Leah. Look at me.”
Leah looks at her, tries not to flinch when their eyes lock.
“You love me,” Fatin states. She waits for Leah to agree, accepts her nod, then tightens her grasp on Leah’s hands. “Just let me love you back, okay?"
Leah exhales. “Okay.”
Fatin grins. “This is for real?” she questions. “We’re actually doing this?”
“If you want to.”
“Bitch! Sorry, but I have wanted you since – shit, I don’t even know. But I think we need to celebrate.”
Leah presses her lips together, holds back a haven’t we celebrated enough? “How?” she asks.
Fatin smirks. “You know how. We just have to be really quiet.”
There’s no reason for Leah to point out how that’s a next to impossible task. Even with Fatin’s hand clamped over her mouth, Leah is paranoid that Rachel and Martha can hear them through the shared wall, hopes against all odds that Mr. and Mrs. Reid down the hall hear absolutely nothing. Leah comes harder than usual, isn’t sure if it’s because they haven’t fucked in weeks or if it’s the way Fatin breathes I love you against her collarbone.
*
No one says anything at breakfast. No one sends Leah any funny looks. No one questions when Leah and Fatin accidentally take a nap on the couch together. Mrs. Reid switches the news off during dinner when the talk turns to Jeff’s trial, even though no one asks her to.
It’s when Leah’s almost asleep with Fatin’s head tucked beneath her chin that Fatin says, “So I told Dot that we’re dating, and I realized that we kind of didn’t talk about that before.”
“Good,” Leah mumbles. “I didn’t want to be the one to break the news.”
“If we post anything online, the media will –”
Plaster it everywhere. Eat us alive. Follow us.
“I’m not worried about it,” Leah lies. “I need to tell my parents first, before we post anything.”
“You’re sure you’re not worried?”
“Maybe it’ll overshadow Jeff’s trial for a bit.”
*
It does. For a bit. At least for a few days leading up to when Leah is set to testify. Fatin’s Instagram post is everywhere. The picture that they’d argued over for almost a half hour is on TV screens and in news articles. Fatin’s caption, thankfully, was nothing mushy or special.
We’re official bitches!!!
Everyone quickly draws the same conclusion that Leah had before. Everyone finds it weird that Greyson and Amir would get together, and now Fatin and Leah, all from the Bay. Leah tries not to dwell on it. She reminds herself of what Fatin said.
Gretchen’s not a fucking mastermind matchmaker.
Besides, Leah doesn’t want to give Gretchen any credit for what she has with Fatin. Even if Gretchen is technically the only reason they ever spoke to each other in the first place. Gretchen deserves zero credit. They worked too hard and struggled too much to give Gretchen any victories.
What they have is a good thing, and Leah wants to keep it feeling like a good thing. So she takes her mother’s advice and tries to avoid the media’s reaction, tries to ignore the random numbers blowing up her phone, begging her for an interview.
She tells Fatin she wants to look into finding a therapist back in the Bay. Fatin’s supportive, of course, and offers to help Leah search for one. Leah hesitates then shuts her laptop, glances toward the door, which is still closed. Fatin raises her eyebrows, sits up straighter on the other side of the bed.
“Actually,” Leah says, “can we just talk? About us?”
Fatin nods, cracks a smile. “So after weeks of not wanting to talk –”
“I know, I know. It’s strange coming from me.”
“No, it’s good,” Fatin assures her.
“I just – I don’t want to hurt you. Or fuck this up.”
“I know. But you’re willing to talk to me again, so that’s a step in the right direction.”
Leah gnaws on her lower lip, stares past Fatin instead of at her as she thinks. “This trial – seeing Jeff, seeing his other victims…it’s going to fuck me up, and I don’t want it to fuck you up, too.”
“We’re going to get through it,” Fatin says. She reaches over, grabs Leah’s hand. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll find you a therapist back home. We’ll have each other.”
Leah winces. Home is another problem. A problem she can’t worry about until after the trial passes, but as soon as it ends, she’ll have no choice but to worry about it. The Reids can’t house them forever, and Martha’s itching to get back to Minnesota, even if she’s trying to hide it for Leah’s sake. And Gretchen still has to be sentenced, and testifying at Jeff’s trial is going to take up so much time and energy –
“Hey,” Fatin says sharply, squeezing Leah’s hand. Leah’s eyes return to Fatin’s face, and she stops biting down on her lip when she tastes blood. “Don’t go dark on me,” Fatin says softly. “Don’t do that thing where you get lost in your mind and can’t find your way out. Talk to me.”
So Leah says it out loud. All of it. Everything she’s afraid of, no matter how ridiculous it might seem, and Fatin listens attentively, soothes Leah’s fears, holds her hand. And it’s hard, putting it all into words and actually saying it, but Fatin has never judged her. Some of the weight lifts off of Leah’s chest once she’s done, and to Leah’s surprise, Fatin unloads her fears, too. About the trial and what it might dredge up for Leah. About Gretchen’s upcoming sentencing. About what’ll happen once they’re back home.
“Do you want me in court?” Fatin asks, and it catches Leah off guard, forces her to collect herself and think for a moment.
“Yes,” Leah says.
“I don’t have to be in the room if you don’t want me there,” Fatin says. “I’ll wait outside.”
“I want you there. If you can handle it.”
Fatin rolls her eyes. “If you can handle testifying, I can handle sitting in the courtroom. Even if it’ll take all my willpower not to murder Galanis with my bare hands.”
Leah smiles, but it turns into a grimace. “The DA said the other girls want to meet me, but I – maybe I should want to meet them, but I really don’t.”
“You don’t owe them anything,” Fatin says. “But it could be a good thing. Maybe you should think about it.”