Work Text:
COUNTING YEARS
FIVE
I remember the first day I met you, we’d just started kindergarten.
I cried because I spilt my juice.
Rather than laughing at me with the others,
You spilt yours too so that I wouldn’t be alone.
From that day on we ceased being separate,
Instead becoming a singular entity, a hybrid:
Susan-and-Lola.
Always together, never apart.
SIX
First grade now, we thought we were so big,
We did Big Girl work and played Big Girl games,
Like ‘aliens’ and ‘monsters’ and ‘things that go bump’.
You always liked playing scary but I’d be the Mommy Monster,
Looking after you and making sure you didn’t get into trouble.
That was just the way it was with us, even back then.
You’d run off into another imaginary adventure,
Tugging me along by the hand, me somewhat reluctant.
I’d never let go though.
SEVEN
I remember when you broke your arm,
Falling out of the big tree in the park that you just had to climb.
I told you to stay there and I ran back to your house-
I felt like I was flying.
My legs moved faster than they’d ever done before,
My stupid hair was getting in my face,
My lungs ached as they struggled to take in oxygen,
But I didn’t slow down, not once, because you were hurt,
You were hurt and I had to fetch help.
The next day you were just fine and I was the first to sign your cast,
But still, the worry was set in stone inside me.
EIGHT
This was the year your family took me camping.
Everyone else was laughing and telling stories round the campfire,
But we were huddled a little way off,
A blanket round our shoulders,
Telling each other secret things.
“You know how Barbara in our class says she’s kissed a boy?”
I murmured softly.
“Well, I don’t think I want to do that.”
You turned to me then, eyes the size of dinner plates.
“I- I think I want to kiss you…”
You didn’t say anything, but after everyone had gone to bed, we snuck out.
We laid on the damp grass, not caring, and stared at the stars.
Your hand slipped into mine easily.
“Lola?” You asked, and I turned to face you. “Yeah?”
“I think I want to kiss you too.”
So we did. There, under the stars, we kissed chastely and clumsily and perfectly.
Neither of us mentioned it in the morning.
NINE
You’d started calling me ‘Perry’.
I got cross at first, because that just wasn’t my name,
And what was wrong with Lola?
But over time I came to adore it-
It suited me. I was a Perry, not a Lola.
I still don’t know how you knew this before I did.
So we amended our shared title:
Susan-and-Perry.
I don’t think half of our classmates knew which one of us was which,
All they knew was that we were Susan-and-Perry, and we were always together.
I secretly quite liked that.
TEN
It was just after your tenth birthday party that our second kiss happened.
“We’re both in double digits now, Perr!” You said.
We were sat on the porch swing outside your house,
Everyone else had gone home and your Mom was tidying up inside.
“Yes, and?” I asked, scrunching my face up.
“And, that means we’re grown up!”
“No it doesn’t! We’re not grown up until we’re teenagers!”
“Sure we are! Double digits! And you know what being grown up means?”
“What?”
“Means we can do grown up things!”
“Like what, exactly?”
“Like using the bike track in the park, and ordering fizzy pop at restaurants, and kissing!”
“Kissing?!”
“Yeah! Watch-”
And you just did it, bold as ever, you just leant in and pressed a kiss to my lips.
“Susan!” I chastised, my eyes darting around to make sure no-one had seen.
You just laughed and I folded my arms.
My lips tingled all the way home.
ELEVEN
We were in our final year of Elementary now, and we ruled the school.
(Or so we thought.)
We’d stopped playing monsters now,
Instead playing games like ‘truth or dare’.
You invariably picked dare, which led to several trips to the school nurse,
And I would always choose truth,
Even though you already knew everything there was to know about me.
It was when we started playing with other people that the trouble started.
“Perry, truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Who do you like?”
My eyes flitted towards you and away again. “Dare.”
“Jump off the top of the climbing frame.”
My eyes grew wide as you immediately jumped up.
“She can’t do that, she’ll break her neck!” (I wouldn’t. It was only six feet high, it just felt taller.)
“She changed to dare, she has to!”
I stood at the very top, trembling, my feet slowly inching towards the edge.
“Go on, Perry!” “You have to!” “Man, this was an awesome dare, Barb!”...”Perr, you don’t have to.”
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and jumped.
I may not have broken my neck, but I did sprain my ankle,
And you got suspended for punching Barbara McCullen.
All that just because I didn’t want to say your name.
TWELVE
Junior High! How foreign it felt to be so small again,
The babies of the school.
You’d cut your hair over the summer while I was in Greece,
I gasped and ran my fingers through it, initially shocked.
By the time the first day of school came around I’d gotten over it,
And decided that in fact it suited you.
I said as much one day and you gave me that bright, lopsided grin of yours,
Like it was all you ever wanted, for me to approve of it.
We had most of the same classes, but not all, and that was strange,
Strange and almost painful. We were used to being together all the time.
Susan-and-Perry.
My first class alone was German. I answered every question the teacher asked,
And then got shoved into my locker afterwards because of it.
It didn’t take you long to fight him, and you narrowly avoided a second suspension.
People learned soon after that not to go near me.
I was protected.
THIRTEEN
Teenagers at last.
My childish belief that we were grown ups now had long since been disregarded.
We snuck out of our respective houses most nights, met up at the park.
It was our place.
It was there that our third kiss occurred.
“Perr?”
“Yes?”
“Remember my tenth birthday?”
“Of course!”
“No, but...after…”
I pause briefly. “...Of course.”
You hopped off the swing next to me, coming to stand in front.
I held my breath.
“Stop me if I’m getting this all wrong.” You said.
Then you leaned forward and the rest of the world melted away.
This one was less chaste than the others, but no less clumsy,
I almost fell off the swing, but your arms gripped me in place.
We walked back to your house hand in hand,
And I gave you one last peck on the lips before skipping back to my house, grinning.
The next day we carried on as though nothing had happened.
FOURTEEN
This was the year you discovered science.
A new teacher arrived and suddenly I wasn’t the most important thing in your life anymore.
I wasn’t jealous.
Or at least, that’s what I told myself every time you left me alone at lunch.
The same cafeteria I’d been sitting in every day suddenly felt huge and imposing.
Susan and Perry.
I learned how to distract myself, how to act like nothing was wrong.
The signs of OCD I’d been harbouring since childhood grew steadily worse.
My fingers were cracked and dry from bleach.
I missed you that year.
FIFTEEN
A new school again- Senior High.
After spending the summer together, we were back again.
Susan and Perry.
I learnt not to get jealous of the science that so frequently distracted you,
Just as you learnt not to get jealous of Todd, my first boyfriend.
We didn’t last long,
But I think it was the principle of it that hurt you.
If you would have just asked, you would have gotten the answer you were looking for:
I’m yours.
SIXTEEN
I remember getting drunk for the first time.
I didn’t even want to go to that stupid party.
As always, it was you tugging my hand, leading me into trouble.
I’d said just one drink, but then Carrie from my math class had called me a pussy;
Well, I just had to prove her wrong.
For once, it was you trying to hold me back,
But I have a stubborn, competitive streak and this bitch was going down.
I lost count of how many shots I had that night,
I lost track of most things.
However, I have this one memory-
Startlingly, shockingly clear.
You took me home, half guiding, half carrying me,
We slept at your place (not uncommon),
In the same bed (not uncommon),
And you cradled me against your chest,
Stroking my hair,
And humming nursery rhymes from when we were children.
(More uncommon but not unheard of.)
Then, when you thought I was asleep,
You told me.
You told me everything.
You told me, tripping over your words, that you loved me,
Told me that you’d loved me for ten years,
Told me that you’d never told me because I didn’t feel the same,
And to hear me say as much,
Would tear you apart.
Then you told me that you didn’t think you’d ever stop loving me.
(Uncommon.)
SEVENTEEN
We went to Senior Prom together.
Our parents shot each other knowing looks,
As we insisted:
“Going to prom with your best friend is fun!”
Best friends.
Susan and Perry..
Best friends.
We danced closer that we probably needed to,
Neither of us saying the words,
The words we wanted to, needed to say.
I love you.
We laughed with our friends, drank alcohol that had been smuggled in.
Played Truth or Dare, for old times’ sake.
“Truth.”
“Who do you like?”
“Dare.”
“I dare you to tell us who you like.”
“Screw you, that’s not how it works!”
“You scared, Lola?”
“Leave her alone, Jess!”
“Keep out of it, dyke!”
“Don’t call her that!” I grabbed your hand, glaring furiously.
“Is it her? Is that why you don’t wanna tell us?”
My face flushed as red as my hair and I stood, perfectly still.
We left soon after that,
You tugging me out by the hand,
Just like in the playground all those years ago.
Hours later we were lying in my bed,
A movie playing in the background,
Both of us in that sacred place between awake and asleep.
“Perr?” You whispered.
“Yeah?” I said, just as softly.
We had no reason to whisper, my parents were on the other side of the house.
It just felt like we should.
A sensitive thing, we should tiptoe around it,
Or risk disrupting the fragile equilibrium.
“Was it true?”
“Hmm?” I pretended I hadn’t heard-
Just to put off answering a little bit longer.
“Was it true?”
You turned towards me now,
Face to face.
For once I couldn’t meet your eye.
“Of course not, sweetie.”
“...Oh.”
“Would...would you want it to be?”
Your eyes shot up, but I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the wall behind your head.
“Perr…”
I bit back a sob. “I was never the brave one, dammit.”
“Perry, don’t make me say it, not after you just…”
Not after I just denied having any feelings for you;
Not after I just lied to you for the first time in 12 years.
“You’re my best friend, Susan.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want that to change, not ever.”
“It won’t.”
“Promise me?” I held my pinky finger out to her,
Reminding us of when we were kids.
She took it in hers.
“I promise.”
I took a deep breath,
Flashback to when I was 11,
When I jumped off the climbing frame to avoid saying what I was about to say.
I was braver now.
“I love you.”
It was little more than a whisper, but she heard.
“I love you too.”
And then we were kissing.
EIGHTEEN
Our first year at Silas was a turbulent one.
This was the year you changed.
(Or maybe you’d been changing for 13 years, but had just now found the words to explain it.)
“I’m not a girl.”
Of course you were a girl, you’d always been a girl!
“I’m non-binary.”
Non-what now?!
“I want to go by they/them pronouns.”
I could feel the safe little world we’d built around ourselves slowly crumbling away.
“I’m not Susan anymore.”
Of course you were Susan, you’d always been Susan!
It’s who we were:
Susan-and-Perry,
Just like when we were kids.
But then you turn around and tell me,
With tears rushing down your face,
That everything I knew about you was a lie.
I didn’t understand.
I hated the thought that I didn’t know you at all.
Had you been lying to me for 13 years?!
There was this huge part of yourself that you just hid from me!
You weren’t you any more.
I wanted Susan back, I didn’t like this LaFontaine-
She lied to me.
NINETEEN
I remember our first meeting after summer.
Tense, awkward.
We carried on as though nothing had happened.
As though nothing had happened.
It’s what we always did.
Then we met Laura, and Carmilla.
All you wanted to do was dissect it,
To ‘make the weird submit’.
All I wanted to do was make things normal again,
Make you normal again.
I wanted US back,
Susan-and-Perry.
But still, you insisted.
We bickered and made up constantly that year-
I missed sneaking out to go to the park at night,
I missed Susan.
But you,
You curious, reckless idiot,
You had to go and get yourself kidnapped.
I fell apart.
I f e l l apart.
I would have done anything, anything,
If you’d only walk through the door.
I started using your pronouns.
Maybe they weren’t so bad after all.
Maybe LaFontaine wasn’t so bad after all.
You came back, of course,
But you weren’t you.
I cried most nights. It was all my fault.
I hurt you, you grew reckless, you got taken.
Cause and effect.
Then, of course, the battle.
I killed someone.
(He took you.)
Drove a stake right through his heart.
(HE TOOK YOU.)
I came out of that pit feeling...off.
We almost kissed again, afterwards. Almost.
Things were almost back to normal.
LaFontaine and Perry.
TWENTY
This year was strange.
It was like I wasn’t there half the time,
And when I was, I was angry. So angry.
Everything just kept happening and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
I just wanted things to go back to normal,
But you, you, you just had to reanimate a dead body!
(I wasn’t jealous, it was just a stupid thing to do.)
We were both so wrapped up in our own problems,
We didn’t see what was happening to each other.
You were slowly getting more reckless, taking more risks,
And I was slowly being sucked away, leaving something else in my place.
When we were 20 we stopped noticing.
TWENTY-ONE
Darkness.
I didn’t know what had happened,
Or where I was,
Or when you’d save me.
All I knew was that the darkness was all around me, it was crushing.
Sometimes it would press in on me,
Press in on me so much that I couldn’t breathe.
I was terrified.
There was nothing, nothing but me.
Trapped in my own mind and I was going crazy.
I had nothing but memories, so I clung to them, I clung to you.
The dark seemed to be moving.
It was moving and evolving and I couldn’t stop it,
I wanted to scream, to shout, to tell you to RUN,
But the darkness was in my mouth, coating my tongue, sitting heavily in my lungs.
Still, I never lost onto that long-held, steadfast belief that you would find me.
You’d protect me the same way you did when we were 12.
Alone and in the dark, it was there that I heard your voice.
“Hey Perr, been a while, huh?”
I want more than anything to let you know;
I hear you! I hear you!
But my body that is not mine, it remains limp, I remain voiceless.
“You’re the biggest thing in my world.”
You too, LaF, you too.
TWENTY-TWO
I’m curled up on the seat next your hospital bed.
You’re asleep, which is good, because it means you’re not in pain.
“She’s going to be alright.”
The doctor says.
“They.”
I correct him.
He just smiles and leaves.
You look so fragile, so small in this big bed,
A bandage covering half your face.
Laura and Carmilla were here earlier, but they left to go find Laura’s dad.
I’m kind of glad of the quiet, to be honest, it soothes my pounding head.
Seeing that you’re not going to be awake any time soon, I get up,
Heading over to the bathroom to wash my hands for the umpteenth time,
Scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing.
I need to clean them, these hands,
The same hands that resurrected Danny, that killed JP,
That ripped my best friend’s eye out, that gripped Laura’s heart.
I don’t think I’ll ever be clean enough.
It’s all coming back to me in flashes.
Quick bursts here and there that make me shudder, make me cry out.
I go back and sit next to you again, taking your calloused hand in my unclean one.
I’ll tell you everything when you wake up.
Everything.
No more carrying on like nothing happened.
Because it did, it did happen. But we got through it.
I always knew you’d find me again.
We always find each other, it’s who we are.
Two threads on the woven tapestry of the universe,
Destined to be together,
So tightly wound round each other that we have become a singular entity, a hybrid:
LaF-and-Perry.