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“You’re 18, how the hell have you not told your parents yet?” Nat snarks.
“I told you, my parents would literally kill me,” Jackie stresses.
It’s midnight and normally, Jackie would be asleep in Nat’s arms at this point. Not tonight though, after a few too many drinks Nat’s all fire and brimstone, intent on restarting an age-old argument that never ends well. It’s been six months since they started hooking up, and though Nat refuses to put a label on things, they’re basically dating. It’s always one thing or another with her, Nat refuses to put a label on things until they can stop sneaking around, and that’ll only happen the day hell freezes over.
Long story short, Jackie cannot come out. It’s not like she doesn’t want to! She literally cannot. She knows the consequences, and she’s tried to tell Nat that, but it goes in one ear and out the other. They’ve always danced around the truth, about her parents, and she’s not exactly keen to open up that can of worms. They’re not that close, after all, they both refuse to talk about the things that really matter.
“I’m tired of hiding,” some of the anger leaves Nat’s voice, leaving only exhaustion in its wake, “I’m tired of sneaking around while you ‘date’ Jeff.”
“We’re not even dating,” Jackie hisses, “we have an agreement. He holds my hand and comes over for dinner once a week.”
“Fuckin’ bullshit,” Nat looks older than her 18 years then, running a hand over her face.
“How do you think I feel?” Jackie retorts, “You won’t even call me your girlfriend!”
“We’re not dating,” Nat corrects, “we’re friends with benefits.”
Jackie chokes down the urge to cry, rubbing her pointer and her thumb together to try and calm down. She jumps out of bed, leaving the warm cocoon of blankets and a naked Nat behind as she turns away, throwing on her clothes in a hurry.
“Where are you going?” Nat says.
“Home,” Jackie spits out, slipping her letterman on. She stumbles as she slips her shoes on, biting back the urge to curse.
“What? Gonna take the bus or something?” Nat mocks, in the tone she only ever uses to belittle, and it always succeeds in making Jackie feel small and stupid.
“Or call an Uber, I’ll figure it out,” Jackie mumbles, anger washing away in the face of insecurity, her chest tightening.
“The bus stops operating at 11,” Nat says, though some of the vitriol has left her tone.
“Fuck you,” Jackie bites out, grabbing her backpack and hauling it over her shoulder, “fuck you, Natalie.”
“Oh, fuck me!” Nat’s voice rises, “Because all of this bullshit is my fault. You’re a coward, Jackie. You care more about what your mom thinks than anything else.”
“I keep trying to explain,” Jackie whips around to glare at her, “you never listen! Why do you care so much? We’re just ‘friends with benefits’. This? This is over.”
Nat’s face flashes with hurt before her expression smoothes out. Jackie hates how she can’t really tell how she’s feeling, how good Nat is at putting on a facade. Jackie’s been trying to do that for years, and her mask still has cracks.
“You weren’t even that good,” Nat states, that stupid, fucking self-superior bite to her tone.
Any and all empathy Jackie might have had, any and all desire to explain herself dissipates. Her heart shatters in her chest, she can feel the sounds of it splintering against the crowd, as she stares, slack-jawed at Nat. Nat’s expression changes, morphing into concern, but before she can say anything, Jackie storms out of the trailer, slamming the front door behind her.
She fumbles for her phone, hands shaking, tears blinding her. Jackie finds Shauna’s contact and presses call. Jackie sucks in deep breaths, starting in one direction and stomping off, and trying to calm herself down from a panic attack.
“Jax?” Shauna’s tired voice echoes through the air.
“C-can you pick me up?” Jackie stumbles on her words, trying to breathe, “P-please, I’ll, I’ll never ask again.”
“Jesus, what happened?” Shauna sounds wide awake, and Jackie can distantly hear muffled sounds of shuffling.
“Nat,” Jackie chokes out, “Nat.”
“That fucking bitch I swear to God-” Shauna cuts herself off, the phone going silent as she mutes then unmutes herself, “I’ll be there in 10.”
“C-can you stay on the line?” Jackie says pathetically, “I just, I-I-I-”
“I will,” Shauna promises, “breathe with me, Jax. In and out, okay?”
Shauna starts to take loud, deep breaths and Jackie does her best to mimic her. The cold, night air hits her then as she starts to come back to herself. She’s dressed in nothing more than her soccer shorts and a thin shirt, barely covered by her jacket. There are bruises on her knees, she distantly realizes.
Shauna keeps talking on the other side of the phone, but Jackie doesn’t register it. She’s staring down at her feet, realizing she forgot to put a sock on in her hurry. She feels like she’s floating outside of her body, like nothing is real, as gentle hands grab onto her arm and help her inside Shauna’s car.
Shauna looks at her, squeezing her hand, round, doe eyes boring into hers. Jackie just scrunches her face, trying not to start crying again, as Shauna’s expression softens. She helps Jackie put her seatbelt on, before racing off into the night. Jackie stares back at Nat’s trailer in the side mirror, even when it’s long disappeared from sight.
Jackie floats through school, smiling and laughing on cue when Jeff speaks to her. He’s a…nice enough guy, and at least he respects her secret. Maybe in another life, she would’ve actually liked him, romantically at least. Not in this one, not when there’s Nat’s name plastered across her heart.
Jackie wears a little more makeup than usual, to hide the redness of her eyes, but she thinks she masks it well enough. The other girls don’t seem to notice, when she joins them halfway through the lunch period, after taking a break to scream in the single-stall bathroom. At least Nat’s not at lunch, probably smoking with Kevyn, even though Jackie knows they’ll have to see each other at practice.
And practice is, well, a disaster. Jackie’s still stuck in her head, not paying enough attention to the passes or the plays, and it’s not until Tai knocks her to the ground that she comes back to Earth. There’s a hand shoved in front of her face to help her up, and Jackie blinks at Tai before allowing herself to be pulled back up.
Her stomach aches. She thinks she might’ve been elbowed, then realizes she hasn’t eaten in a while.
“You good?” Tai asks, eyebrows raised.
Jackie just nods, forcing a smile to her lips. Tai’s only being polite, Jackie knows, they weren’t friends. Still, Tai appraises her for another moment before letting go of her hand and stalking away. Coach Martinez blows his whistle, and Jackie meanders back to the bench, downing water to fill her empty stomach.
When practice is over, Jackie is one of the last people left in the locker room. She busies herself with tying her shoes when she hears shoes squeak against the floor.
“That was a rough hit,” Nat grunts, “you okay?”
“You don’t care,” Jackie murmurs, “you don’t have to pretend.”
“Fuck you,” Nat spits.
Jackie glances up at that, too emotionally exhausted to fight. Nat’s face is scrunched up as if she might cry at the accusation, and that makes Jackie freeze for a second. Nat huffs out a sigh, then reaches forward and places a hand on the back of Jackie’s head, bringing their lips together. It’s instinct that dictates her to relax, that makes her eyes flutter close, and then reason slams into her and Jackie pulls back, shoving Nat away.
“What the hell?” Jackie says, “I thought we weren’t doing this anymore.”
“I was being a dick,” Nat admits, though it seems like the confession physically hurts her, “but we don’t have to stop a good thing.”
“Nothing’s going to change,” Jackie’s eyebrows furrow together, “we should-”
Nat kisses her again. Jackie forgets what she was going to say.
“Do you want me to stop?” Nat pulls back, just a hair, and they’re still sharing the same breath.
Logic tells Jackie to pull away, but the warmth pooling in her stomach commands her to kiss Nat again. So, she kisses her.
It’s not love, not even close, love shouldn’t make her want to cry as much as it makes her feel alive but Nat kisses like the devil and Jackie’s always been a sucker for temptation, so she gives in.
When Jackie was a kid, she was obsessed with fairytales. She dreamed of being a princess and being rescued by a beautiful knight from the ivory tower she grew up in. She tried to tell her mom that dream once, and…learned the consequences of loving another woman.
She was in love with the idea of love once. But that was before. And that was a long, long time ago.
Any dreams of being swept off her feet have been crumpled and beaten out of her. But. But still, sometimes Nat holds her so gently after sex, running her fingers through Jackie’s hair. She kisses the marks she leaves, and sings under her breath whatever song that’s stuck in her head at the moment.
Nat listens when Jackie rambles, on about everything and nothing, even about her favorite musicians at the moment. She nods along, occasionally interjecting with thoughtful questions or comments, something even Shauna doesn’t do. Honestly, half the time Shauna tunes her out, and Jackie gets it, she gets that she’s too much most of the time.
But Nat looks at her, ocean eyes lit up with affection, and Jackie feels like her bones tingle. It feels like someone finally sees her for who she is.
On very rare occasions, Nat will humor her and tell her an anecdote from her childhood. None of the stories are particularly funny or even happy, but she tells them to Jackie all the same. And Jackie will listen, doing her best to be quiet, and just hold Nat throughout. She’ll trace patterns in Nat’s bare skin, relishing in how vulnerable Nat allows herself to be in these rare moments, and savor them.
It’s not love. It’s not. But Jackie enjoys it all the same. She’s resigned herself to the truth, Nat will never love her. She doesn’t know if it’s because she’s too loud, or too much, or because her brain is so weird, or because she refuses to come out, or maybe all of the above.
The bottom line is, that Natalie Scatorccio will never love Jackie Taylor back. They’ll always just be friends with benefits, they’ll always be strangers in the ways that matter, and lovers in the ways that don’t.
“They really would kill me,” Jackie says, softly, one night, Nat’s head on her chest, “if I came out.”
“You’re an adult, they can’t do shit to you,” Nat scoffs, still unbelieving.
Jackie doesn’t know how to make her understand. Doesn’t know how to say, I wore a sweatshirt for a year because of the scars she left on me. Being a Taylor who loves women is effectively putting my head on the executioner’s block.
“They’re going to pay for my college. They pay for everything right now,” Jackie says, trying to make sure her voice doesn’t shake, “if I want a future, I need to keep up the act.”
“I can help you,” Nat tells her, “you can get a job. We can make a plan.”
Jackie wants to believe her, wants to trust her, but, “We’re not even dating, Nat.”
“We could be,” Nat fires back, “you don’t even need to come out to them, okay? I get that, it’s, like scary and shit. But I’m tired of hiding at school. Can we at least stop that?”
Jackie just thinks of all of the kids who frequent her mom’s favorite country club, of all of her mother’s friends in high places. There are eyes, everywhere. It’s not safe. Not yet.
“No,” Jackie closes her eyes, feeling the way Nat stiffens, “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Nat says feebly.
“I’m not ready,” Jackie tells her, “it’s not because of you. You’re…amazing, Nat. I…I just can’t. Why can’t you just trust me?”
“Maybe I’m just tired of people being ashamed of me,” Nat grunts, “I’m tired of being a dirty little secret.”
“If I could shout it from the rooftops, I would,” Jackie says, earnestly, “but I can’t.”
Nat goes quiet. She moves, then, pulling away and curling up, her back toward Jackie. Jackie wants to reach for her but stops herself.
“When I was fifteen,” Jackie licks her lips, the words caught in her throat, “I kissed a girl for the first time. My mom caught us.”
Nat doesn’t say anything, but her breath catches. Jackie turns, laying on her side, staring at Nat’s back.
“I had to miss school for two weeks. I couldn’t sit in a chair. It was…bad,” Jackie skips over the goriest details.
“You missed practice, you never miss practice,” Nat remembers.
Jackie nods, even though Nat can’t see her. A moment later, Nat turns back, and Jackie opens up her arms. Nat crawls back into the embrace, and Jackie breathes a little easier. They don’t say anything more, so close to the truth and so far from it. They’re at a crossroads, and Jackie understands where Nat is coming from, but she’s never been ashamed of her.
Nat just wants to be loved out loud. Jackie gets it, she really does, she wishes she could do that for her. But it’s not safe, not now. They need to keep hiding.
“When are you going to propose?” Janet Taylor says.
Jackie chokes on her water. Jeff is no better, sputtering on his mashed potatoes and quickly downing his drink. He clears his throat, his face bright red, as he glances at Jackie and then at her mother.
“Uh, we haven’t talked about that, ma’am,” Jeff answers.
Janet rolls her eyes, while Jackie’s father, Henry, stays quiet. Jackie busies herself with cutting up the meat on her plate and pushing her food around.
“She’s not getting any younger,” Janet sighs.
“After college, probably,” Jeff sweats, “I don’t think now is a good time.”
“Why wait? Her prospects aren’t looking very high. And you want to stay in Wiskayok, right Jeff? It would be perfect,” Janet tells him.
“I don’t think some people would be happy about me proposing now,” Jeff tries for a joke.
It fails. Completely and utterly fails. The room goes quiet. Jackie glances up, to see her mother’s face has hardened like marble.
“Some people?” Janet echoes.
“My parents,” Jeff rushes out, “it’s too soon for them.”
The answer doesn’t satisfy her. It’s clear in the rigidness of her shoulders that Janet doesn’t believe him. Jeff glances at her, eyes wide, and Jackie almost instinctually mimics his expression. She feels her mother’s eyes on her and swallows her panic.
“We’ve only been dating for a year,” Jackie says feebly, “we’re just not ready.”
Jeff rapidly bobs his head. Janet hmmphs under her breath, delicately taking her folded napkin off of her lap and placing it on the table. The entire room is silent as she pushes her chair back, the furniture scraping against the hardwood.
“Jackie, dear, would you join me in the kitchen for a moment?” Janet grabs her plate.
Jackie nods, grabbing her own untouched food and scampering after her mother. As soon as they’re out of eyesight, Janet puts her plate down and then whirls around, clamping a hand down around Jackie’s wrist.
Jackie shakes, setting her plate down, as her mother grips her chin with her other hand.
“Who is he talking about?” Janet hisses, voice low, mindful of their guest.
“No one!” Jackie says, trying to tear her head away, but failing, “He was just making a bad joke.”
Janet holds her gaze, eyes searching. Whatever she finds seems to be enough, as she takes her hand away, and Jackie can safely avert her eyes.
“You remember what we talked about, right, dear?” Janet’s voice is saccharine sweet, “All those years ago when you had your accident?”
Jackie nods, her entire body shaking. She remembers being fifteen and falling through a glass table. Remembers the surgery and remembers having to be awake as the surgeons pried glass shards from her back and arms. Remembers the aftermath more.
“Good, I think it’s time Jeff went home,” Janet pats her cheek and then completely pulls away.
Jackie’s wrist aches, she looks down to see it’s already red, it’ll bruise by the morning. Mechanically, she returns to the dining room, intertwining her fingers with Jeff’s and escorting him to the front door.
As soon as he’s on the front porch, Jackie closes the front door behind them. He relaxes more when they’re out of sight of her parents.
“Your mom’s a scary lady,” Jeff tries for levity, a boyish smile on his lips.
He’s cute, almost like a dog, in a way. Jackie tries to mimic his expression, “Thanks for everything. Seriously. You’re…a good guy.”
“You’d do the same for me,” he says confidently, even though Jackie definitely wouldn’t, “besides, Randy doesn’t mind.”
“Still, I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”
“Food’s good, maybe next time I can bring a casserole over.”
Jeff smiles again, and Jackie wishes she wasn’t like this sometimes, wishes she could be enchanted by his smile or his laugh or the way he smells, but she isn’t. She only has eyes for one person.
“Bye Jeff, see you at school,” she squeezes his hand for good measure.
He waves, as she re-enters the house, shutting the door behind her, and then escaping upstairs.
“That’s new,” Shauna murmurs, from beside her at the lunch table.
Jackie glances down at her wrist, to see it’s no longer being hidden by her jacket. She pulls her jacket down, hiding the finger-shaped bruises, and shrugs.
“Dinner with the parents,” she tries for airy, “no big deal.”
Shauna frowns from beside her. Nat notices their exchange, her eyes darting between the two of them from across the table. Jackie shoots her a fake smile, lowering her voice.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jackie tells her.
Shauna is still frowning, “Do they know?”
“No,” Jackie says firmly, “it’ll be fine.”
And really, it’s fine, for a while at least. Jeff keeps coming over for the weekly dinners, Jackie spends her weeks fooling around with Nat or hanging out with Shauna and everything is a-oh-kay.
It makes her relax, a little too much. Jackie falls back into a routine, and she’s always thrived on structure, which is exactly why she lets Nat drive her home one day after practice. Her parents aren’t home, and the car is gone from the driveway, so Jackie lingers a little longer in Nat's car.
“Can I tell you something?” Nat murmurs, her eyes locked on something outside of the car.
The radio is faintly playing some pop song, and Jackie turns it down as she looks at her. Nat’s cheeks are flushed, her bottom lip worried between her teeth.
“I sleep better with you than I do alone,” she confesses, “it’s, like, my body knows when you’re not there. It feels…weird. I’ve gotten used to it.”
“Careful, Nat, that almost sounds like something you’d tell a girl you’re dating,” Jackie murmurs, her voice still light.
“We could be,” Nat turns then, eyes gentle, “dating. If you want.”
Jackie’s eyes widen, bugging out of her head. Nat’s expression is fond, a tiny smile on her lips, she reaches a hand across the dashboard, and Jackie takes it, intertwining their fingers.
“Be my girlfriend, Princess?” Nat asks.
Jackie leans forward and kisses her. Nat cups her cheek, bringing their faces as close as possible, before she pulls back.
“Text me when you get home?” Jackie requests.
Nat smirks, “‘Course.”
Jackie smiles at her and they just stare at each other for another second. Too caught up in each other's eyes, they don’t notice the curtain moving on the second floor, or the anger that flashes in Janet Taylor’s eyes as she hides herself away.
It all comes to a head a few days later. Jackie comes home to see her mother sitting at the dining table, an empty bottle of wine next to her. The hair on the back of her head stands up at that, and she stops herself as soon as she enters the house.
“Jacqueline, dear,” Janet starts, stumbling to her feet, “I almost believed you for a moment.”
“What?” Jackie chokes out.
“I thought I trained this out of you,” she tuts, crossing the room to loom over her daughter, “the only good dyke is a dead one.”
Jackie is frozen, and helpless as she stares up at her mother. A hand wraps around her throat, and Jackie scrapes at the grasp, trying to escape it. Her feet lift off of the ground, her back shoved against the front door. Her breath comes out in ragged puffs, the oxygen escaping her.
“I won’t kill you,” her mother promises, “that wouldn’t look good, would it? But after today, you’re not my daughter. I thought we could move past this…phase. It seems you’re due for a sorely needed correction.”
The hand around her neck squeezes, and Jackie’s entire face goes red. Spots appear in her vision, and above her, her mother doesn’t even smile.
Jackie doesn’t remember much after that.
The next few days are blurry. She spends most of them in bed, blurry faces above her. She doesn’t remember much, besides doe eyes and blonde hair. Her body radiates with pain, and the bed she’s in is unfamiliar.
When she wakes, she’s not in her house. There’s a hand holding hers, and Jackie struggles to sit up as she looks around the room. She sees the familiar band posters and record player shoved in the corner and knows immediately she’s in Nat’s trailer.
One glance over to the side and she sees Nat, half-slumped on the bed, and Shauna, asleep in a chair. Her head aches and her limbs feel heavy with disuse. She tries to wiggle her toes and is shocked by the pain she feels in her ankle. Jackie must make a sound, because a second later, Nat is blinking herself awake.
“You’re up,” Nat breathes, sounding shocked.
“Yeah,” Jackie’s throat is dry, “how long have I been out?”
“A few days,” Nat’s face contorts in anger, “Shipman called me. Said you needed a place to stay.”
“Uh, yeah, I,” Jackie licks her lips, “can’t go home anymore.”
Some of the anger leaves Nat’s expression, sympathy washing over it. She squeezes her hand, “I know. You can stay here.”
“So, we’re Uhauling?” Jackie jokes.
Nat doesn’t laugh, “You scared the fuck out of us.”
“Sorry,” Jackie sucks in a breath, “didn’t exactly mean to.”
“No, I know, I didn’t mean to like,” Nat cuts herself off, “sorry. I’m shit at this. I was a fuckin’ asshole, I just kept pushing and pushing, until you…told me. Shipman ripped me a new one.”
Jackie stays quiet, Nat takes another breath then continues, “I thought you, were, like, just, I don’t know. It sounds stupid when I say it, but I thought you were just doing that straight girl thing, y’know? Leading me on. Until you told me. And then, I got my head out of my ass. But I was really scared for a while, about us, about you. About, like, dating you. It was stupid. I know.”
Jackie squeezes her hand. Nat looks up at her, and then Jackie shuffles aside, making room for her in the bed. Nat climbs up, wrapping her arms around Jackie and burying her head in her shoulder.
“You have a concussion and a fractured ankle. A whole lotta bruising too, mostly on your ribs,” Nat tells her, “do you remember what happened?”
“No,” Jackie says honestly, “don’t think I want to, either.”
Nat just nods, “I understand. My dad used to get mean, too. I…never thought it could happen to a kid like you. Burnout like me? It was typical. Happened to Van, and happened to Kev, it was normal. Not…I didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to believe your cage was just gilded. Shows how much I know.”
Jackie goes quiet again, thinking about the lack of a future in front of her. Her entire life, she knew her purpose. Get married to a nice guy, go to college, probably major in psychology or business, graduate, and become a housewife. There’s nothing concrete in front of her, not anymore. Her savings account is probably drained, her mom opened it for her after all. She has to start from scratch, right when she’s about to graduate.
It’s both freeing and terrifying, to not know what’s next. She no longer has to abide by her mother’s rules, but there’s no structure. She can do anything, can be anyone, if she can summon up the money.
“I wasn’t good to you,” Nat murmurs, “I was an asshole. If you let me, I’ll make it up to you. Not really sure how this relationship thing works, but I want to try. If…if you still want to.”
A part of Jackie wishes she was angrier, that she held a grudge against Nat for her words. But, she’s not. Fighting with Nat, no matter who’s right or wrong, doesn’t make her feel good. She understands why Nat did the things she did, and said the things she said, and there’s no resentment. She’d rather have Nat how she is, pissy half the time and loving the other, than not at all.
Their paths have been intertwined for so long now, it only felt right to be with her. Nat’s always been a part of her, always been her other half. Maybe that’s what love is, absorbing someone into your bloodstream and not knowing how to part from them. Maybe love was sharing a bed, sleeping together, or holding hands in the face of fear and standing tall. Jackie doesn’t know, not really.
“We can be better,” Jackie tells her, “together. We should really work on this communication thing.”
Nat lets out a soft laugh, and only then, does Shauna stir. Her best friend’s moving without hesitation, rushing over to Jackie’s side. Shauna’s eyes examine her, scanning her up and down, and Jackie smiles up at her.
“Well, I lived,” Jackie jokes.
“Not funny,” Shauna deadpans, “my mom and I were worried sick.”
Jackie wilts a little and Shauna sighs, reaching a hand out to smooth down Jackie’s hair. She glances at Nat, and Jackie can see the resentment in her eyes. She doesn’t blame her, Jackie cried about Nat to Shauna more times than she can count.
“Whenever you get tired of this raccoon, you can come to ours,” Shauna tells her.
“Hey! Why am I a raccoon?” Nat whines.
“Have you seen yourself?” Shauna fires back.
The two dissolve into bickering, and Jackie just watches them, silent. There’s an emptiness in her chest, at the realization of what happened, despite the future looking bright. For a long time, she hoped what happened to her at fifteen was just a fluke, just a spur-of-the-moment accident.
Her mother proved her wrong like she always does. The wounds will heal, and the bruises will fade, even if the scars remain. She’ll see her mother wherever she goes, in busy crowds and empty streets, Jackie knows this. Her mother will be a ghost haunting her for the rest of her life, whispering in her ear.
But - the future is a blank slate. It’s as comforting as it is terrifying. She closes her eyes, for only a second, and pictures herself in the future, with hair a little longer. She can imagine herself coming home to Nat and cooking because Nat could only make ramen noodles on the best days. She can imagine rooming with Shauna at Rutgers or calling her every week to catch up. A world of endless possibilities, all ripe for Jackie to choose.
A few days later, Jackie returns to school. Jeff waits by her at her locker, but when he sees the bruises on her face, his face morphs into pity and he retreats. He doesn’t say anything and doesn’t offer any condolences, but Jackie wouldn’t want them.
Hand-in-hand with Nat, despite the curious and judgemental looks, Jackie feels a little lighter. There are still too many problems to worry about, the impending graduation one of them, but she tries not to think of it, now. Instead, she just enjoys the shocked looks they receive at lunch, and how Lottie wordlessly hands $20 to Van.
There will be no consequences, not to a woman like Janet Taylor. Going to court would do nothing, making what happened public wouldn’t do anything good except dredge up more memories for Jackie. The Taylors will sweep what happened under the rug, and no one will be none the wiser.
The thought stings as much as it soothes. At least, Jackie will have a future, even if it’s not the one she had planned out. At least her past won’t be printed in every newspaper.
Her life isn’t good, but she doesn’t have to sleep in a haunted home anymore and doesn’t have to keep up a cracking facade. Doesn’t have to worry about the danger lurking around every corner.
She can make a life for herself, somewhere outside of Wiskayok. She doesn’t know what it’ll look like, but it’ll be hers. Hers and Nat’s, hopefully.
She glances over, during practice, to see Nat’s head tilted back, her eyes closed as sunlight beams down on her. She never thought her Prince Charming would be a bottle blonde with a nicotine addiction, but then again, fairytales were never that realistic.
I love you, she thinks, even though she hasn’t been brave enough to voice the words. Nat opens her eyes then, as if feeling Jackie’s gaze, and looks at her. Her smile is soft, and Jackie sees a million possibilities in her eyes.
“You okay, Princess?” Nat says, quietly, in the tone only reserved for her.
“I will be,” Jackie promises.
Nat smiles then, looking straight out of a storybook, blonde hair framing her face. Jackie wants to take a picture, wants to remember her like this forever, but, instead, just smiles back.