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Nobody remembered Marcie and Peppermint Patty had once been best friends.
They had drifted apart when they were around thirteen, or that’s what everyone had assumed had happened. Some people had wondered, at first, but then had shrugged it off as just a growing apart kind of situation. After all, two people that different couldn’t really stay friends for long. It’s one thing to be best friends with someone completely the opposite of you when you’re six or seven and your main conversation consists of yelling out “CATCH!” and your main differences only appear when arguing about what game you’re going to play next. Once you’re older, however, you tend to drift towards a certain social group or person who fits you and your interests better. That’s just life.
What they didn’t know, however, is that they stopped being friends because of one thing they had a bit too much in common, or so they thought, and that was Charlie Brown. It had been such a silly thing, and not even a real thing – at least, not to Marcie - but it had created a rift between them. After that, Marcie drifted towards the nerdier, straight-A kids, and Peppermint Patty threw herself into the high school sports lifestyle, hanging out with the baseball team, a bunch of loud, rather goofy, fun-loving kids. She probably has more fun with them than she had ever had me, Marcie would think to herself sometimes, whenever she glanced towards the loud tomboy sat at the table that she always sat in, surrounded by her large group of laughing, energetic friends.
Not that Marcie thought about her former best friend that often. After all, four years had passed. They were both seventeen now, both had lived lives the other one knew little about, apart from some flying rumor or other about Peppermint Patty dating Franklin – which Marcie doubted, since she had never actually seen them sharing more that laughs and friendly banter – or about Marcie winning the prize for Mathletes – for which Peppermint Patty had uttered a quick “congratulations, Marce!” and a grin. Marcie had smiled back, and had wondered briefly if Peppermint Patty still remembered their spat, or that they had ever been best friends at all. Probably sometimes, in passing, just like herself.
So when Peppermint Patty turned to Marcie that afternoon in history class after Mr. Evans announced they had to pick partners for a project on WWII, and gave her a questioning look, gesturing “you and me?” from a few rows ahead, the bookish girl was surprised and slightly taken aback. So was Sarah, her current best friend, who was sat beside her; they usually did projects together, or with their other friend Brandon. She saw Franklin, who was sitting beside Peppermint Patty, give her a slight look of disbelief and amusement for some reason. Marcie, for some reason, found herself nodding her head and mouthing “yes” before she could think, to which Sarah frowned but said nothing. Peppermint Patty grinned, mouthed back “cool” with a thumbs up and turned back to face the board again.
“What was that?” whispered Sarah. She looked surprised and maybe slightly affronted, but not really annoyed or angry.
“I didn’t think – sorry. I don’t know why I said yes, it’s silly, I’ll tell her I’m doing it with you, of course…” began Marcie apologetically. Sarah laughed and gave her an odd look.
“I don’t mind; I can do it with Brandon, it’s no big deal. It’s just weird you didn’t ask me first. And that you said yes immediately – I didn’t know you two even talked” she shrugged.
She didn’t say anything else, but Marcie could tell by her raised eyebrows and slightly pursed lips what she was thinking; Peppermint Patty wasn’t exactly a good student, so it was weird – and borderline dumb - to choose her over Sarah, who had never gotten less than an A+ in her life. Also, Peppermint Patty was probably using her for a good grade, like so many of the kids had in the past. Marcie’s heart sank slightly, and shook her head at herself, as she realized this was also obviously the reason Franklin had looked at Peppermint Patty in that incredulous-but-amused way. Everyone had realized except for her. The tomboy had probably even expected a no and had just tried to see if she got lucky, and Marcie had just stupidly said yes without a second thought.
How stupid can you get? Marcie thought to herself, sighing.
The bell rang, and there were sighs of relief, some giggles and chatter as the students began putting away their books in their backpacks, glad the school week was finally over.
Peppermint Patty swung her backpack over her shoulder and walked over to Marcie, who was trying to cram a ridiculous amount of notebooks into her bag.
“Hey! Want to come back to my place? We can make a head start on this war thingy”
It was funny how they had both been raised in the same town, yet Peppermint Patty had such a stronger southern accent – pretty much every word she said had a drawl in it. It was probably because her father had such a strong accent himself, whereas Marcie’s parents had a more neutral one.
Five years ago, Marcie would have made some scathing comment about ‘war thingy’. Now, she merely smiled politely.
“Sure – don’t you have baseball practice or something?”
“Nah, not today.”
There was a slightly awkward silence as they made their way out of school. Marcie began to walk towards the street, when Peppermint Patty stopped her and laughed.
“I’ve got my dad’s truck in the parking lot.” she grinned. “I got my license a month ago. I haven’t killed nobody yet, so it’s pretty safe”
That didn’t reassure Marcie a great deal, but she gingerly got into the truck, resisting the urge to shoot a withering look at her former best friend. She put her seatbelt on, and noticed the tomboy didn’t as she started the engine and set off.
“Um…you’re not wearing your seatbelt?”
Peppermint Patty grinned.
“Nah.”
Marcie frowned.
“Sir, I really think you should-” she stopped abruptly. The word had been out before she had had time to stop it. The tomboy let out a chuckle.
“I had forgotten you used to call me sir” she grinned.
“Me too, until now” admitted Marcie, her face slightly flushed.
“Guess old manners die hard” said Peppermint Patty, shrugging.
Marcie smiled.
“I think you mean old habits, sir – Patty.”
“You correcting my grammar every sentence I say hasn’t changed either” remarked Patty.
They drove on in silence, broken only by the god-awful hillbilly music on the radio – the kind Marcie despised but Peppermint Patty and her father loved. It really was hard to imagine they had ever been best friends. Marcie liked Jazz and classical music, Peppermint Patty liked yee-hawing cowboy country music. Marcie enjoyed poetry and literature, Peppermint Patty could only get through two sentences before she got bored. Marcie hated sports with a passion, to Peppermint Patty they were the meaning of life. Marcie was highly intelligent; Peppermint Patty was – kind of dense. Not dense, just not academically gifted at all. She was good at more practical things however, Marcie reminded herself, like cooking – Marcie was appalling at that. And sports. And, surprisingly, driving. Marcie was pleasantly surprised at how well she drove, even though, to Marcie’s exasperation, she didn’t put on her seatbelt.
They pulled up to Peppermint Patty’s house, and the tomboy bounced out of the truck. She walked over to Marcie’s side as the dark haired girl unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door for her, holding out a tanned, freckled hand. Marcie blinked, taken aback at this almost – chivalrous? – display, before taking her hand and jumping out of the truck herself. Peppermint Patty banged the door behind her and they walked towards the house.
“Do you know how to drive?” asked Peppermint Patty as they walked in.
“No”, replied Marcie, taking in the familiar surroundings. She felt a sudden pang of nostalgia as she saw everything was exactly as she remembered it – the wooden furniture, the cream-colored walls, the brown couch and armchairs.
“I can teach you sometime, if you want. Least I can do, considering I’m going to probably be riding on your A+ grade for this history thingy” she grinned ruefully, almost apologetically.
Marcie felt a pang of slight hurt.
“I suppose that’s why you asked to be with me” she smiled weakly, trying to make her voice sound light and nonchalant. After all, what did she care?
Peppermint Patty sighed and stared at her for a second in an expression Marcie couldn’t quite figure out.
“Nah…” she trailed off, as though wondering whether to say something more or not. Finally, she seemed to decide not to, as her face broke into an easy-going grin again – although somewhat forced – and turned her back on the other girl, walking towards the kitchen.
“Want a beer or something?” she called out.
Marcie’s brow furrowed incredulously.
“A what?”
“A beer? I have some red wine too, I know you’re kinda a fancy pants…”
“We have to work, sir!”
Peppermint Patty reappeared, giggling, holding two coca-cola cans.
“I just like getting you worked up so you call me sir again. Although I do have beer if you want it.”
Marcie laughed despite herself, and was suddenly reminded why Peppermint Patty had been her best friend. Nobody could exasperate her as much as Patty, but also nobody could make her laugh like Patty.
“No, thanks”, she replied pointedly, taking a sip of the coke and sitting down on the couch.
“Sir, we can’t put that Hitler was an asshole in our history project! It’s supposed to be an objective recount”
“Well, he was an asshole! It’s an objective fact! Whatever objective means. And don’t call me ‘sir’”
Marcie snorted, shaking her head. It was funny when Peppermint Patty’s dumb act slipped, showing she was much smarter than she made out to be; she obviously knew what objective meant.
“I thought you just said you like winding me up and getting me to call you sir”
“I do, but old manners die hard and telling you not to call me ‘sir’ dies hard”, replied the grinning tomboy.
“Habits”, corrected Marcie once more, the corners of her lips twitching.
There was a slight silence as Marcie wrote down some ideas. After a while, she looked up and saw Peppermint Patty gazing sadly at her.
“What happened to us, Marce?” she murmured.
Marcie felt herself tense up suddenly.
“What do you mean?” asked Marcie, letting out a nervous laugh.
“You know…you stopped calling me ‘sir’, we stopped hanging out together…” Peppermint Patty shrugged, sipping her coke.
“Nothing…we drifted apart, I guess. You have your baseball friends” Marcie replied, scratching her nose.
Peppermint Patty sighed.
“Listen…I didn’t ask you to be partners just so I could ride on your grade – I mean, not gonna lie, it would help, all I got are pure Fs…all stupid Evan’s fault…”
“I doubt it’s all Mr. Evan’s fault, Pat” replied Marcie, a small smile playing on her lips. Peppermint Patty grinned sheepishly.
“It is, I swear! He has it in for me! Anyway, I…” she trailed off, a blush creeping on her freckled cheeks. “I started going to this therapist chick – aunt Maggie told my dad I should go, to cope with mum’s death – even though mum’s been dead forever, so honestly what’s the point? Anyway…” she let out a blow, her cheeks puffing out. “At first it all seemed real stupid if you ask me – I mean, she was treating me like a kid, she made me draw! Me, draw!”
Marcie smiled softly, remembering her friend’s absolute inability to draw anything more sophisticated than a smiley face and a slightly deformed heart shape.
“But after that, we were talking about other stuff – and you came up”
Marcie frowned.
“Me?”
Peppermint Patty nodded and then shook her head.
“You know what, forget it…it’s dumb…”
“No…tell me”, replied Marcie, reaching over and putting a hand on the other girls’ shoulder reassuringly. “I’m just surprised I came up…we haven’t spoken in ages…” she trailed off, realizing that that was exactly he reason why she had come up in her therapy session.
“I just – what happened back then – it was so dumb …” she paused, running her fingers through her messy dark blond hair and shook her head in exasperation, jumping up from the couch. “Fuck this” she muttered, and ran into the kitchen. To Marcie’s dismay, she came back with a can of beer.
“Sir!” Marcie exclaimed indignantly.
“Sorry, sorry, but right now I need something in my blood other than stupidity genes”, she said firmly, sitting down beside Marcie and taking a sip of the golden liquid.
“That’s better. Anyway, this therapy chick was all like, you have to have closure or whatever, you’re acting like nothing happened…and well, it did. But Marce…it was so stupid and I…I want you to know, I never liked him, and I’m sorry I kissed him.”
Marcie remembered the whole thing; how Peppermint Patty had kissed Charlie Brown, when they were thirteen. How she had kissed him in front of Marcie, almost as a taunt. How badly it had hurt. How jealous she had been, how heartbroken. How she played it off like she didn’t really care, afterwards, when she did. However, she shook her head and forced a laugh.
“Patty, it was ages ago. We were kids. I’m not angry with you or anything. Honestly, I never liked him either” she replied, truthfully.
Peppermint Patty’s face twisted in confusion.
“You didn’t? Then how come…? Anyway, never mind, it was a really shitty thing to do, and I’m sorry. I knew you liked him, and I – I guess I just wanted to see what it felt like, to kiss someone. And now the therapy chick says I was looking for a reaction out of you because I actually wanted you to feel jealous -” she stopped. “I didn’t know it then, it’s all in the subconshish, or whatever, right? But I do now. And I wanted to say, I’m sorry.”
“I think you mean subconscious” Marcie smiled. Then she frowned, confused. “Why did you want to make me feel jealous? And Patty, why did all that even come up with the – therapy chick? After all this time?”
Peppermint Patty buried her head in her hands.
“Oh, lord” she groaned, her voice muffled. “You’re gonna hate me”
“Hate you?” repeated Marcie, incredulous. “Why would I hate you? I just – I mean, I was hurt then, but it’s been years. And like I said, I didn’t even like him. I was jealous-” she stopped, thinking carefully. “But not for the reason you think.”
“If you didn’t like him then why did you react like that?” frowned Peppermint Patty. “You threw that Dorian book at me! It was huge!”
“Well, I was mad!” snapped Marcie, defensively.
“But why? If you didn’t like him?”
Marcie paused and bit her lip.
“I asked first. Why did you want to make me jealous?”
Peppermint Patty sighed and took a long swig of the Pabst Blue Ribbon can before she finally spoke.
“I wanted to make you jealous of me. Not of Chuck. Or is it the other way round?” her brow furrowed in confusion. “Jealous of me…of chuck…no, it’d be jealous of me if you like me, isn’t it? Fuck it - I wanted you, Marce” she blurted out. “And I wanted you to want me. Not Chuck. I mean, god, I hated that kiss. I’ve only kissed two boys and it never felt right…I know you’re not that way, and I know it’s Chuck you wanted, and I’m sorry. That’s why you came up with the therapy chick. We were talking about me being gay”.
Her voice had dropped to an almost inaudible whisper, and Marcie couldn’t bear it – Peppermint Patty’s voice was supposed to be loud and obnoxious and irritating. It was what made Peppermint Patty – Peppermint Patty.
She reached out and took the rough, freckled hand in her own slightly smaller, paler one.
“Well, your subconscious plan worked, sir” she whispered, smiling.
The tomboy looked up, a ghost of a lopsided grin playing hopefully on her face.
“It did?”
“I was insanely jealous. Of chuck” murmured Marcie. Peppermint Patty’s face fell, and Marcie giggled. “Which means I liked you. I was jealous of Chuck because I wanted you”
Marcie took her glasses off and wiping them with her shirt, the way she always did whenever she had to express feelings. Somehow expressing factual, academic sentences came much easier to her than expressing how she felt.
“I pretended to like Chuck to hide the fact I wanted you. I was sure you liked him, and I thought maybe if I pretended to like him it would restrict you from going after him, I guess, in a way” she laughed softly.
“Honestly, I thought I had a crush on him when I was a kid. ‘Til puberty hit and I realized girls were the best thing since Peggy Flemming’s legs and that I’m gayer than KD Lang on acid” sighed Peppermint Patty.
“Why on acid?” giggled Marcie.
“I dunno” mumbled Peppermint Patty, laughing, her face red.
There was a short silence. Marcie put her glasses back on and met the other girl’s eyes.
“Do you still want me?” she blurted out, flushing.
Peppermint Patty smiled and reached out to stroke the other girl’s black hair.
“What d’you think?” she asked, her eyebrows raised, her voice slurring slightly.
“I think you’re drunk, sir.”
“’M not” she slurred again, exaggerating this time.
“I think you should probably drink some water - "
Marcie was suddenly cut off by Peppermint Patty’s mouth pressing against hers. She tasted of beer, and Marcie could have sworn she was getting drunk of it; then again, it was probably just the way Peppermint Patty was ridiculously good at kissing. Marcie suddenly remembered she had never kissed anyone before, and began to worry she was bad at it – just like she was bad at cooking, and sports, and driving. Her hands hung awkwardly at her side, not quite knowing what to do with them. Peppermint Patty smiled softly into the kiss and took Marcie’s hands in hers, bringing her arms up to wrap around her neck. She wrapped her own around the smaller girl’s waist and broke apart the kiss slightly.
“You ok?” she asked softly.
Marcie nodded, and Peppermint Patty smiled, bending down her head and kissing her neck.
Sweet jesus, thought Marcie, heat rising up inside her as the other girl sucked and bit on her neck. She let out a moan and tried to conceal it with a cough. Peppermint Patty giggled and lifted her head.
“Relax, Marce. It’s ok” she murmured softly.
“Sorry, I just – I’ve never-” she stopped. Admitting she had never kissed anybody at seventeen years old, let alone anything else – even though statistically it was probably not uncommon – seemed too embarrassing to bear.
“I’ve got you” murmured Peppermint Patty reassuringly, kissing her again, softly, cupping her face gently with her hands.
When the other girl’s mouth found her neck again, she didn’t pretend to cough, and soon they were sprawled on the couch, Peppermint Patty’s hand making its way up Marcie’s blouse.
“Patty, wait” gasped Marcie, pulling apart.
“Sorry, we don’t have to - I got carried away, but we can stop” babbled Peppermint Patty. Marcie smiled breathlessly.
“No, I don’t want to stop, it’s just – is your dad not around?”
Peppermint Patty grinned sheepishly.
“Nah, he works late on fridays. So afterwards,” she murmured between kisses, “I can make us dinner.”
“I can help you if you like” grinned Marcie.
“Oh god. Please, no” grimaced Peppermint Patty, receiving a swat by the girl underneath her.
“I might have improved for all you know!” exclaimed Marcie indignantly.
“Yeah, and I might have improved in math” retorted Peppermint Patty sarcastically, nibbling her ear. Marcie was about to say something and paused thoughtfully.
“I’m…I might not be good at this” she whispered, blushing.
Peppermint Patty frowned and pulled apart.
“What do you mean?”
“Well I’m not good at – you know. Real life stuff. Like cooking, or driving, or sports or – you know, physical stuff…and this…I’m not exactly in shape either, not like you…” she trailed off, biting her lip. She didn’t consider herself to have particularly low self-esteem, but she now felt slightly self-conscious as she felt Patty’s toned, strong body against her own small, thin one. Peppermint Patty’s eyes softened, a mixture of disbelief and tenderness in her expression.
“Marcie. You idiot. You’re perfect, and beautiful, and I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone” murmured Peppermint Patty, kissing her forehead. “And I told you. I’ve got you.”
Marcie smiled and pulled her into another kiss, longer and deeper this time, and began sliding her hand down the other girl’s faded blue jeans.
“I’ve got you too.”
It wasn’t too long before tender kisses turned to passionate, desperate ones, and suddenly they were caught up in the heat again, kissing furiously, skin against skin, clothes discarded and forgotten, primal noises leaving their lips as they grinded against each other and hands and fingers met forbidden places. Kissing and touching and biting and sucking until Patty growled “call me sir”, and Marcie obliged, between gasps.
The last thing Marcie felt before she fell asleep with her – former best friend’s? Best friend’s? Girlfriend’s? – arms around her that evening – before she was awoken an hour later for dinner - was a smirk against her neck, and Peppermint Patty muttering in her signature drawl: “I love it when you call me sir”.