One Hand on the Wheel

by cwbuggo

Summary:

Sasha Waybright needs to escape her parents. Marcy Wu needs to escape her life. Anne Boonchuy needs to escape the other two idiots.

Normal road trips are taken between people who like each other. If that's the case, then the only road Sasha, Anne, and Marcy are heading down is one leading straight to disaster. But all roads lead lead to Rome, right?

Notes:

This story is in part inspired by, beta read by, and small parts have been written by my best friend Courtney (Chasing-you on AO3 and chasinq-you on Tumblr, and chasinq_you on Twitter).

Chapter 1

Summary:

In which Sasha steals a vehicle.

Sasha Waybright had a problem.

Correction: Sasha Waybright had a lot of problems. If she didn't, she wouldn't be behind the wheel of a stolen Toyota (courtesy of her father), speeding through the streets of Los Angeles in a desperate attempt to get as far away from civilization as possible. At least, not at the age of sixteen, and not at two o'clock in the morning.

Some people say that the greatest strokes of genius come when one doesn't entirely have their wits about them, a saying that Sasha could now deny with confidence. She'd always secretly wanted to make her grand escape from the state of California, but it wasn't quite an it's-two-a.m.-and-I-don't-know-what-else-to-do sort of plan. It was something she'd been saving for an exceptional event, like her eighteenth birthday, or her first day of college.

And yet, there she was, escaping California at two a.m. in a stolen Toyota at the age of sixteen.

The only ounce of normalcy that could be found in the entire situation was the presence of her loyal and long-time friend Marcy Wu, who resided in the back seat, clinging on to her seat for dear life as the Rav swerved between intersections. Even in this case, though, there was nothing normal about picking up your reported dead friend at a gas station at 2 a.m. – she wasn’t even supposed to be alive, and yet here she was, yelling at Sasha for her impulsive driving.

Marcy had gone missing a few weeks ago. No one had heard a word about where she’d gone or why, but a few weeks later, a witness reported to have seen her drown. There was no evidence proving this, nor was there evidence against it, but as a sixteen-year-old girl really had no business faking her death, there wasn’t really much anyone could do. She was declared dead.

Just that night, Sasha had received a phone call from a pay phone in the city. She remembered too clearly Marcy’s voice – it seemed calm, normal. Just like any other day, when Marcy could call Sasha and say something like “hey, could you come pick me up from my house?” or “I’m by the school, would you mind giving me a ride?” Except, of course, Marcy had been declared dead, and it was eleven at night.

Either way, Sasha had been more than happy to go find Marcy – that was, until she’d been confronted by her father as she tried to leave the house. Of course, she couldn’t tell them that she was going to go pick up her dead best friend at eleven o’clock at night – in fact, curfew was at ten. It had been messy, but Sasha was eventually able to get ahold of her father’s car and head out. Not the exit she’d always dreamed of, but it was… an exit nonetheless.

One of the first things Marcy had asked about upon hopping into Sasha’s dad’s car was Anne Boonchuy, their other friend. Rather, Sasha’s girlfriend. Or they were dating up until their breakup just a few days ago. Marcy and Anne had never been more than friends, but Anne and Sasha on the other hand had been dating on and off for what could’ve been a year or so. Marcy had always claimed it was a wonder that their friend group could still even function properly.

That was when Sasha decided that Anne would be coming along on this little adventure. Besides, it was only fair that Anne was one of the first (and only) people to know that Marcy was even still alive.

Sasha clearly wasn't familiar with the route - she'd ever only taken a few paths to Anne's house. Marcy acted as a sort of navigator, crying out rights and lefts as the car reached stop signs. Rather, she would've been, had she not been shouting at Sasha to slow the hell down so she could read street signs, or telling her not to hit low hanging branches or recycle bins (Sasha wouldn't have ever planned to make her grand heist on a recycle day. Obviously, she hadn't willingly planned any of this out).

"Sasha, good God, you're gonna get us killed!" Marcy cried from the backseat for perhaps the hundredth time.

Sasha sure as hell was panicking, but she had to keep her cool or else Marcy wouldn’t trust her. Fake it ‘til ya make it, Sash, she told herself "You're already dead!" she argued.

Legally, this was correct.

Marcy leaned back in her seat and ran her fingers through her short, dark hair. Sasha could sense that she was already stressed out, but rightly so. "Good Christ, Sash- have you lost your marbles?"

Sasha smirked. "Yeah. I did. But she's back now, and we're gonna live every day like it's her last.”

Marcy clearly didn’t agree with this sentiment as she clung onto the handle above the door for dear life. “Dude, can’t you just – drop me off somewhere?” she asked, her voice strained by the sudden blow she’d taken to the chest with her seatbelt (or perhaps the state of fear she’d been in ever since Sasha had gotten off the road she’d picked her friend up at and begun tearing down the streets as though she were in an open field.)

“No way,” Sasha answered firmly. “You barely survived two weeks out here. You need someone to look after you.” And I can’t quite go back and see my parents. But despite this obvious defiance, Sasha slowed down a bit. Of course, this would pop into her mind the question of whether or not her dad had called the police on her and if that would be an issue getting out of town… she shook the thought and instead decided to add on to her first remark. “You know, half of me is wondering how you actually managed to get someone to look after you.”

The several seconds of silence that followed her indirect inquiry made Sasha more than a bit uneasy. “I was, uh…” Marcy seemed strangely calculating and yet, she wasn’t any less calm. It was almost like an entirely new anxiety had gripped her. “…I was with a friend,” she answered finally.

Though the hesitation had popped a few questions into Sasha’s mind, she shrugged them off. “So, Marmar, how’s it been treating you? Y’know, the whole being dead thing? I’ve always wanted to fake my death and leave the country, but daaaaaaamn girl, I’d never expected to see anyone up and do it.”

Marcy blinked, surprised that Sasha had seemed to take a genuine interest in how she’d been doing. She glanced over at Sasha and couldn’t help but poke a bit of fun herself. “What, did ya miss me or something?”

“Ha! In your dreams!” Sasha laughed, then bit her tongue when she realized how mean it sounded. Is it acceptable to tease your best friend if she’s been missing for the past two weeks? Should she maybe lay off? Should she even be worried?

There was a brief moment of awkward silence, and the car began to slow down even more. Sasha sighed as she scanned the houses down the street. “But… yeah, I missed you.”

Marcy leaned forward and rest her chin on the seat just behind Sasha’s shoulder. “Aww…”

Sasha tensed, then reached her left arm over her other shoulder, pushing her friend away. “But you’re back now, I guess.”

Despite having been shoved back about a foot, Marcy giggled and scooted forward onto the edge of the car seat.

Sasha glanced over at Marcy and her glittering gaze of adoration in the dark and felt her ears heat up. She snorted, forced herself to look away, and the moment was over. "And it’s a good thing, too," she added sarcastically, then, with an even more bitter tone, muttered, "I'm pretty sure Boonchuy over here is madly obsessed with you. Damn, she’ll be glad to see you."

Marcy had never been the type to tailor her response to the emotional atmosphere of a conversation. "Really?" Though Sasha wouldn't turn to look at her, she knew by the tone of Marcy's voice that she'd be staring at her with wide, hopeful eyes. "Wait... isn't she dating you? Are you... oh, no, she dumped you again, didn't she?"

Her question was answered by silence. Sasha simply gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

"Of course," Marcy leaned back in her seat and let out a nervous laugh. "You only call her by her last name when you're super pissed with her."

Again, silence. The car came to a stop, and Sasha continue to gaze steadily through the windshield, her eyes trailing behind the small raindrops as they combined with other small raindrops and moved down toward the hood of the car.

"So, how'd it happen this time? Let me guess - Sasha and Anne disagree on something, Sasha and Anne have an argument from which they have difficulties recovering, Sasha gets all defiant, Anne grows emotionally distant... and the whole thing ends in tears."

Sasha finally spoke. "Marmar, shut up."

This request clearly wasn't received as well as Sasha had hoped, and to her dismay, it only seemed to get Marcy more worked up. "No. You know what? I won't shut up. You shut up. Half of me is starting to think that the only reason you're bringing her with us is so that I can play mediator and help you recover something that, frankly, might not even have been made to last. It's what I always do. You stomp all over her heart and leave me to pick up the pieces. Maybe if you bothered to fix things yourself-!"

"Marcy, shut the hell up," Sasha repeated, this time with more urgency. If this went much further, she wouldn't be able to get Marcy to shut up about the topic and Anne would likely be forced into the conversation when she arrived. If Anne felt at all like that was actually the case, that Sasha always went to Marcy for help when she missed Anne (or even if she had the slightest idea that she actually missed her), Sasha would come looking like a huge weakling.

"Don't tell me to shut up! Jesus, nothing you say right now could possibly be that-"

The phone began ringing in Sasha’s hand, and Marcy immediately stopped talking.

The dull, ringing tone was the only thing that could be heard in the car, but after about two of them, Marcy spoke up again. “Are you trying to call her at two in the m-”

“Shush!”

The tone sounded one more time, then went to voicemail. “Hey, um, this is Anne. I can’t come to the phone right now so… leave a message, I gue-”

Sasha grumbled and hung up. “Let’s try this again-”

“Sasha, no. It’s two in the morning.”

She gritted her teeth in frustration, but replied calmly. “Do you want Anne to know you’re alive, yes or no?”

“Yeah, but-”

“And do you want me to get you out of here so nobody finds you?” Sasha pointed the cell phone at Marcy, who stared at her with wide eyes.

“…Yeah…”

Sasha turned right back around and started tapping on her phone again. “Then let me do my thing, ‘kay?”

Having nothing more to say, Marcy remained silent.

This time, after two rings, Anne picked up. “Sasha, it’s two in the fucking morning.”

Marcy could hear Anne’s groggy voice and gasped.

Sasha shot her a dangerous glare as she spoke into the phone. “Yeah, hey, bestie, good to hear from you, too,” she answered jokingly.

There was a moment of silence, followed by a sigh from Anne. “This better be very important. God, there’s a reason I haven’t talked to you since the funeral.”

The funeral. When Marcy realized exactly who’s funeral it had been, she took in a sharp breath, and Sasha shushed her once again.

“Who’s that?”

“Uh…” Sasha started to panic a bit. She wouldn’t be able to explain it to Anne, not without showing her. “Nothing. I was just yawning.”

She wondered if Anne bought it – and to her relief, she didn’t question it. “Yeah, no shit, just a symptom if it being, I don’t know, two in the morning. What is it you need from me, anyway?”

Sasha felt a tap on her shoulder. “Hold on, give me a sec-” She poked the mute button. “What is it, Marcy?” she snapped as Anne grumbled something sarcastic about a list and owing all her time to Sasha.

Marcy seemed concerned. “Has she always been this…”

“Irritable?” Sasha finished, then laughed. “Nope. Just since you died. As you said, it’s that thing she does where she gets all distant…”

“It’s my fault?”

Was it? Sasha was indifferent to this idea. She didn’t quite know anything that had happened to Marcy yet – why she ran off, who saw her dead, and what friend she had been staying with. She was sure it would all clear up in time, but did she blame her and Anne’s breakup on Marcy? Was that even fair?

Sasha searched her mind for a way she could explain this, but ended up instead doing what she did best – rolling her eyes as though it were a stupid question. Did she blame Marcy? Maybe a little bit. “I’m sure she’s just grieving.” She took a deep breath, unmuted herself, and finally said into the phone, “Pack your shit, Boonchuy. We’re going to Disneyworld.”

“I’m not going to Disneyland with you at two in the morning, Sasha,” Anne replied angrily.

Clearly she didn’t understand, but to be fair, Sasha had been rather vague. “No, like, we’re going on a road trip. Pack your shit.”

Sasha received no response, and it took her a second to realize that Anne had hung up on her.

“Daaaamn!” Marcy chimed from behind her.

Sasha hit the home button on her phone and decided to text Anne from her contacts. This process consisted of her typing up a sentence, deleting it, and starting from scratch. Finally, she typed something that sounded right and sent it before setting her phone down and leaning her head against the seat. It would only take a few seconds to send.

Do u believe in ghosts?

Notes:

Update: 8/4/21

i sorta published this late at night and didn't really have a lot of time to fill out notes and stuff but :D i'm so grateful for your support! i don't reply to a lot of comments (unless it's specific questions or points out specific bits) but i'm seeing all of them and i'm so glad to hear what you guys have to say

that being said, i started this project as a sort of personal thing? which, i mean, should be the case with most art like this. it's definitely gonna be a longer-term project, though i don't know if i'd classify it as a slowburn as it gets heavily romantic near the beginning (though they don't all get together until waaaaaay later on).

i've made posts relating to the au on my tumblr! so feel free to go check out stuff there. url is bigpinkbaguette, and the tag i'm using to talk about this fic is "#fic: one hand on the wheel".

Chapter 2

Summary:

In which Sasha decides to pick up Anne.

It had been about fifteen minutes since they’d last heard from Anne when Sasha heard sirens.

She had leaned her head back in her seat and had almost fallen asleep in the car when she heard them, slowly but surely getting closer. Sasha sat straight up, alert, causing Marcy to notice something was wrong.

“Sash? Are you… okay?” she asked. Sasha could tell by her quick response that she’d been wide awake the whole time. 

Sasha groaned and rubbed her head. “Sh!” She listened for the sirens as they got louder, praying they weren’t coming for her and that they had no idea where she was. They couldn’t, right? Not unless… unless Anne called the police? Had someone seen her? Did her father just know that she’d gone to Anne’s place?

No. Of course not. Sasha let out an airy laugh and leaned her head against the steering wheel, her hands between her forehead and the wheel. The sound of the sirens went away after maybe twenty seconds or so. “I just… I think I hallucinated,” she lied.

“Oh. Fair,” Marcy replied. 

For a few seconds after that, neither of them spoke, and there was silence except for the rain tapping the roof and windows of the car and occasional rumble of thunder. It was Marcy to once again start conversation.

“So, um, when do you think Anne’ll be ready?” she asked. She’d once again leaned her chin on the seat of the car just behind Sasha’s right shoulder, her right hand under her chin and her left wrapped around the other side of the seat.

Sasha shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. She might not even come out. I’d say we wait just a little longer. Remember, I didn’t really… tell her that much. She doesn’t even know you’re alive… though really I wouldn’t be able to tell her and, y’know, have her believe it.”

Marcy sighed and patted Sasha’s shoulder before pushing herself off the seat. “You know, as much as I’d like to comfort you and tell you it’s not your fault-”

“It is,” Sasha mumbled. “Gee, thanks for the words of encouragement,” she added sarcastically through gritted teeth. “So glad I have a friend like you.”

“Hey, no prob,” Marcy answered, to which Sasha rolled her eyes. “Hey, do you think I could stand outside?”

“Marcy, it’s raining.”

“I’m aware,” she muttered blankly. “But though I’m sure we both have good intentions, she only trusts one of the people in this car. If I stood outside and you told her to look, I’d think she’d at least come looking for an explanation.”

`Sasha opened her mouth to argue, but she found she couldn’t. She looked out into the yard and saw the wet leaves glittering in the light of a street lamp, then snapped her gaze to Anne’s bedroom window at the front of the house.

As much as she hated to admit it, Marcy was right. Though she wasn’t too sure how Anne would face the sight of the girl whose funeral she had just attended – her best friend that she’d lost. There was no way to predict how anyone would deal with that. After all, grief affects everyone differently. As much as Sasha had tried to keep tabs on Anne, it would prove rather impossible once Anne had cut her off.

Upon hearing Marcy’s voice on the phone as she explained to Sasha what had happened, Sasha had been overcome with a sense of urgency and responsibility. Of course, everything was confusing, but Sasha was glad to help. Besides, this was the most alive she’d felt in years, and frankly, there wasn’t anyone else in the world who she would rather be doing this with.

Sasha crossed her arms. “Fine, you have a point, but I’m staying right here, where it’s warm and dry.”

Marcy didn’t hesitate to open the door and jump out into the rain.

“If you catch a cold and decide you wanna spread it to all of us, I’m dropping you off at a street corner and you can find your own way away from civilization.”

“Gee, where would I be without you?” Marcy joked as she swung her legs out of the side of the car and stepped out, slamming the door behind her.

Sasha frowned and turned her phone back on, quickly scrolling through what she’d sent to Anne. They’d all been sent, and they’d all been read, so she knew that she was being ignored. She quickly tapped out one more message. You coming?

Sent. Read. Sasha waited a few seconds, glancing out to Marcy, who had begun pacing around in circles, occasionally looking up in the general direction of the window. It occurred to her that Marcy was out there getting soaked. They would be spending a long time in the car, most likely, so she wanted to keep it as nice as possible so she wouldn’t lose her mind. This would be her first failure.

She glanced down at her phone again and started typing. Look outside.

A few moments later, Sasha noticed that Marcy had stopped pacing. For the first time that night, she glanced down at her cell phone and saw three little dots indicating that Anne was typing.

Who the hell is that?

Sasha grinned. Ah, so now ur interested.

You showed up and dropped a random person in my yard. I’m trying to decide if I should call the police, dipshit.

Ha, the police. Sasha had probably already had the police called on her that night. You know who it is.

The next minute or so, Sasha didn’t receive any more messages, but she watched the bubble with the three dots appear and disappear. Even without being there next to her, Sasha could tell Anne was at a loss for words. This was to be expected.

Finally, Anne sent a message consisting of a single period.

Don’t be rude, Sasha typed after a minute or so, finally figuring out what to say. She’s been waiting for you for a little while now.

She only had to wait maybe five silent minutes in the car before the porch light on Anne’s house turned on.

The door swung open, and Anne stood in the doorway for several seconds, a pink backpack half-slung over one shoulder. Though Sasha was observing from the car, behind the windshield, she could see the mixed look of surprise, distress, and worry on Anne’s face, as if she were being reintroduced to someone she hadn’t seen in years. Anne had always been the theatrical type, and right now Sasha couldn’t decide if she felt this was the most adorable thing in the world or if it was a huge waste of time.

She smirked and glanced back down at her phone, tapping a few words into the search bar. She would need to figure out in which general direction they’d be heading. A few quick calculations on her device told her that if she took a route straight from I-30, she would get to her uncle’s place in Florida in about thirty-five hours, assuming she could keep herself awake for a day and a half and the three didn’t drive each other insane.

“Marcy?”

The sound of Anne’s voice, barely audible above the now heavy rain, caused Sasha to snap her head up. Anne still stood at the door, her hands cupped over her nose and mouth, while Marcy faced her but stood about thirty feet away.

Marcy opened her arms in a sort of half shrug with her palms facing out. She gave her head a quick shake as to get the water out of her face, though with how much it was pouring, the effort was met with… well, more water running into her eyes. Instead of trying again, she ran her fingers through her hair and said, “Hey, Anne. ‘S been a wh- WAAHH!”

Sasha didn’t see exactly what happened, but she glanced over just in time to see Marcy slip and fall backwards. Without thinking, she burst out laughing. Smooth. She’d give her an A for effort on that one.

As Sasha found herself laughing at Marcy’s display of her usual klutziness, Anne bolted into the rain from where she’d been standing, not even bothering to close the door behind her. “Ah! Marmar, are you okay?”

She shot Sasha a deadly glare, to which Sasha responded with an eye roll, before she returned her attention back to Marcy, offering her a hand and pulling her up into a hug.

Sasha was more or less forced to watch the two’s dramatic reunion and wait for them. In all honesty, it was rather sweet, so she figured she wouldn’t rush them.

When Anne pulled away from the hug, she brushed Marcy’s wet hair out of her eyes, completely ignoring the way her own hair clung to her face. “Marcy, how are you- what- no, it’s not real. You drowned! I went to your funeral- you can’t be alive…?”

“Hey, hey, listen.” Marcy smiled. “It’s not a dream.” She had a huge grin on her face, as if she were going to say more, but instead she just giggled.

Anne’s eyes lip up once again before she squeezed them shut and pulled Marcy into another hug, this time only briefly. She pushed her friend away and immediately grabbed her chin. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? I mean, obviously you didn’t drown like the Leviathan dude reported, but- you were still missing for weeks. God, what happened?” She spoke quickly as she closely inspected Marcy’s face. It was impossible to tell if Anne was crying or if her face was wet with raindrops until she sobbed heavily and sniffled.

Marcy reached up her hand and placed it gently on Anne’s cheek. “Hey, shh… I’m fine, Anna-Banana. See?” She rubbed her thumb along the side of Anne’s face. “I’m right here.”

Sasha snorted. Dorks. But as embarrassing as it could be, they’re her dorks. Or, rather, they were. They still would be if Marcy hadn’t… No. She wasn’t going to hold on to that. It wasn’t Marcy’s fault that she’d run off and made everyone think she was dead, or that Anne broke up with her, or that she decided to show up one night and cause Sasha to have a fight with her dad resulting in her running off with his car… She frowned and leaned back into the corner of her seat in the door, pulling up her legs and resting her feet on the dashboard. Her gaze lingered on her two friends.

Anne let out a pained, airy laugh and placed her hand atop Marcy’s, holding it in place as she moved her head slightly and pressed her lips into the palm of her friend’s hand for a few seconds.

It was only a brief moment, and yet as she watched, Sasha felt something grip her chest. She wanted to tell herself that it was no big deal, that Anne was just excited to see her friend again, but she just couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe there was something hidden there that she was too stubborn to see. 

“Anne, cut it out!” Marcy giggled at the tickling sensation in her palm, but she pulled away and managed to inch even closer to the taller girl and stood a bit taller so their foreheads would be touching. 

As Marcy returned her hand to the side of Anne’s face, Anne mumbled something too quiet for Sasha to hear through the window over the pouring rain, but she was able to see her mouth move just inches away from Marcy’s, and Marcy stood a bit taller, slowly closing the gap between them...

“No!” Sasha cried without thinking.

The two sprung apart and both looked at Sasha, perplexed. It was almost as though they’d completely forgotten she existed. 

“What?” Anne’s confused expression held a tint of offense that was reflected by her voice.

Shit. Sasha scrambled to sit up, almost falling into the gap between the wheel and the seat, but she thrust her elbow back into the horn to prop herself up. Much to her dismay, this caused a loud sound to echo through the night. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, fidgeting with the key of the car and pressing down the window control switch for the front passenger side. “Uh… I said we gotta go!” she lied. “Someone probably heard us; we have to get out of here!”

Anne squinted at Sasha. “But… you honked the horn after you called us…”

Marcy grabbed ahold of Anne’s hand and squeezed it. “There’s no time, Anne. We have to get outta here!” She quickly opened the car door and hopped in, pulling Anne behind her.

“You know, uh…” Sasha cleared her throat. “One of you could sit in the front if you wanted.”

“Sasha, you’re the one rushing us,” Marcy began buckling up her seatbelt. “We’ll be fine back here for a little while.” 

Fair enough. Sasha started the car and pulled out rather quickly, being careful not to hit the recycle bin. She took a deep breath before she shifted gears and felt the car jolt forward. She kept her eye on the speed gauge, as she decided it would probably be a good time to actually follow traffic laws as there wasn’t really anything else they had to get away from. Besides, once she got out into the city, three girls barreling down the streets would draw attention.

And so, they were off.

Once the car started moving at a steady speed, Sasha glanced up at the rearview mirror and reached up, adjusting it so she could see the girls better. Marcy had curled up into Anne’s side, her arm draped over her shoulders.

“So, um,” Anne spoke up after a while. “Would someone mind telling me what the actual hell is going on?”

Sasha started. “Well, Marcy here-”

“I’ll explain it tomorrow,” Marcy interrupted, sitting back up so she could lean her head against Anne’s shoulder. “I’m too tired right now,” she said through a yawn.

“Yeah, I’ll bet you’re tired,” Anne mumbled. 

“Coming back from the dead must be tiring,” Sasha joked, turning around in her seat to look at the two in full with a big, stupid grin on her face. God, the things she was doing to be acknowledged by Anne in even the slightest manner.

Her efforts were a success… to a degree. “Sasha, leave her alone and focus on driving.”

“Fine, fine.” She turned around and kept her eyes on the road. At least she knew that Anne wasn’t completely ignoring her. Not like she’d be able to, though. They would probably be stuck in the car for days. Right now, her main concern was finding her way out of the city.

As she drove, though, she couldn’t help but glance at the rearview every now and again to see the two girls as they leaned up against one another. They had sort of done their own thing, and frankly, Sasha felt like the only purpose she had was… being the only who could legally drive.

This couldn’t be true. Sasha wouldn’t accept it. There would be no way she could spend the entire trip being practically ignored by the two. Sure, Marcy wasn’t mad at her, but as long as Anne was around, she’d likely be preoccupied, especially if they were going to be all lovey-dovey the whole trip.

Sasha shook her head. No, it was just excitement. Things weren’t going to be like this the whole time. Marcy had never once expressed that she’d felt any sort of romantic attraction to Anne, and she told Sasha everything, yet it would be weird for her to start now. 

They’d only been separated for a few weeks, and yet when Anne laid eyes upon Marcy, she looked like a woman whose wife had come home from years of military service, not some teenager seeing her dorky, supposedly dead best friend for the first time in a little while.

There was even a part of Sasha that was happy for them and whatever their future held. Then again, part of her always saw herself involved in it.

When she looked in the mirror again, Anne had finally closed her eyes, and the two had peacefully fallen asleep. They looked so calm, uncomplicated, and Sasha wanted more than anything to just pull over to the side of the road and squeeze herself behind Marcy and feel the warmth of the other two pressed up against her- but she couldn’t. She had a responsibility, and she doubted she’d be welcome. Instead, she’d just steal glances of them as she drove.

At one point, Sasha noticed something off with Marcy’s face as it twitched a little bit. She had an idea of what was coming, but there was little she could do about it. Then, Marcy took in a sudden, deep breath...

...And the breath was rejected from her lungs. She sneezed.

Her head bounced backwards, disturbing the peace and awakening both of the girls, causing them each to jump up.

Anne was the first to speak. “Marmar, are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I just-” Marcy wiped her nose, “I think I might’ve caught a cold.”

Damn it.

Notes:

sasha waybright, gay and homophobic
hehe small angst <3

anyways, enjoy. this chapter was in part edited by a fifteen year old giggling and repeating the phrase "cuddling with seatbelts, we die like men" to their best friend/beta reader at 12 am

(also shhhhh yes they love sash they just haven't realized it yet)

Chapter 3

Summary:

In which Sasha finds a place to spend the night.

Sasha had been driving for perhaps an hour and a half down Interstate 5 when she arrived at the next city over. Sure, it wasn’t the quickest and most obvious way to hit I-40, but in this case, Sasha was almost entirely sure that she didn’t want to take any route that could be considered obvious. Not that anyone knew where she was going, nor that anyone really knew she had left Los Angeles… She figured it’d be better to be safe than sorry. Besides, she’d pretty much been up all night. It was a little while past 4 a.m., after all.

The longer route gave her more time to reflect, too. With the other two asleep, she knew she wouldn’t get anywhere dwelling on that. Instead, she started thinking about what had to be done, and where she’d have to go. The whole escapade had been one, big impulse decision, with very little train of thought other than get Anne and run, but even that had been obvious (though, admittedly, it had taken an unusual amount of coaxing to convince Anne to come along). 

She already knew where she wanted to go, but she hadn’t exactly figured out how she’d get there, assuming she made appropriate stops. There were three girls in the car, and though they had similar physical needs, it wouldn’t be the same for all of them emotionally. Sasha knew for a fact that she wouldn’t be able to keep Anne and Marcy cooped up in the car for more than ten hours. In addition, if Sasha didn’t get out and walk every once in a while, she’d spiral. The last thing she needed right now was to start acting all crabby and push Anne and Marcy away even further.

Sasha felt like she should’ve been driving as far away as she could, as fast as possible, but decided she should take shelter in a parking lot in Bakersfield and rest for a bit, so she didn’t snap at Anne or Marcy for something trivial, like asking to go to the bathroom or even just asking her where they were going. She found an empty parking lot belonging to a department store and parked the car in a space that was rather tucked away, out of easy view from the street, and took a moment to think. She thought about Marcy calling her from the disposable phone, and Anne’s reluctance to talk to her, remembered Anne and Marcy cuddling up next to each other in the back seat, leaving Sasha to drive, the bitter taste of something unfamiliar left lingering in her mouth.

She leaned her head back in her seat and looked up at the soft, gray ceiling of the interior of the car. She noticed a small stain on it, causing her to reflexively scrunch up her nose, wondering where the stain had come from in the first place. It reminded her that this was an old car, her father’s car; he’d got it the year she was born. It was the car in which she’d learned to drive.

It was in relatively good condition for such an old car, too. The air conditioning still worked, and, in addition, it was a wonder that even the ports and radio worked. Sasha laughed quietly to herself as she remembered how attached he’d been to his Rav, and how he’d probably spent more money keeping it from falling apart than it was actually worth. He tended to dwell on things he’d had for a long time, salvaging it for as long as he could rather than moving on and letting it be. Perhaps this had rubbed off on his daughter.

However, as much as Sasha’s negative behaviour seemed to mirror her father’s, everything else she’d learned had come from her Uncle Grimothy. Well, he wasn’t really her uncle, as much as he was a childhood friend of her parents, but he’d always be her Uncle Grime. He taught her everything; how to ride a bike, how to drive, how to stick up not only for herself, but for others as well.

Sasha had been distraught when he’d moved to Florida last summer. Up until then, he’d not lived too far away, and Sasha didn’t have to walk far to get there, and she’d spent many a rough afternoon there, especially when things would get tough with her parents. After he moved, he would be hundreds of miles away, and visits would be reduced to maybe once a year or during holidays. 

She was fifteen years old, on the brink of clinging on to her uncle’s leg so he wouldn’t have to move away, when he’d looked down at her, patted her on the head, and left her with a reminder, “Stay strong, Lieutenant.”

With that, Sasha let go of him after their final embrace, and he’d boarded the plane.

It had been a year since then, and Sasha had begged her parents to let her go, just to spend a week with Uncle Grime, a few days, even. For some reason or another, though, they wouldn’t let her.

Now, they couldn’t stop her.

Sasha knew where she would go. 

The trip would hopefully be enough for her to let off some steam before she took the girls home, right? Of course, there was always the possibility that it did nothing more than stress her out, but… hopefully that was something that seeing her uncle could fix.

Sasha felt her eyelids grow heavy, and it was then that it occurred to her that sleeping in the front seat of a car was one of the most uncomfortable things she’d experienced. Of course, if she was tired enough, it was by all means entirely possible, but there was always a chance that she’d wake up sore the next morning.

She pulled her feet up onto the seat and wrapped her arms around her knees, leaning her head against the headrest. To her dismay, this, too, put a lot of strain on her back. God, how did Anne and Marcy do it?

Sighing, Sasha poked her head around the headrest and looked at them again. Since she’d last looked at them before stubbornly keeping her eyes on the road, they’d shifted so that Marcy was more sideways. Of course, this had caused her to slip a bit, and she now lay partially across Anne, who had pulled her feet up onto the seat as well and cradled Marcy.

Sasha rolled her eyes. They had more room back there, and of course they’d chosen not to use it. She scoffed. Stupid Marcy and her stupid cute face and stupid tiny hands clinging to Anne’s stupid pink frog shirt and-

Shit, she was doing it again. Sasha had to remind herself that this wasn’t their fault. She’d always found it easier to blame someone else for her mistakes, but there was a point where she’d have to realize that it wasn’t helping anyone. 

The inside of the car was cool enough, and the sun wasn’t out, so she decided to turn the car off. Sasha decided to take her jacket off and drape it over her own shoulders, finally deciding to lean up against the seat, pressing her cheek to the spot her back had previously been. 

Surrounded by nothing but darkness and her own warmth, she spent a couple more minutes staring out into the empty parking lot she’d selected to rest in. For the first time that night, everything was completely silent. There was no air conditioning, nor the soft hum of the engine to distract her from the sound of her own breath… except for, of course, the sounds of the other two breathing in the backseat behind her. 

She didn’t know if this was better or worse.

Sasha tried to clear her mind and fall asleep, but just the thought of everything that they had to look forward to, or even everything that had happened… It made it almost impossible to calm down. She felt out of control, and yet she’d taken things into her own hands. She’d now have to force herself to take care of everyone, figure out where they were going and how they’d survive, what stops they’d have to take, yet she had been thrown into this knowing just as much as the other two.

She was afraid. In all definitions of the word, she was afraid. She was scared, and she knew she couldn’t show it. Anne already didn’t trust her as it was, and she figured if she came across as a scaredy cat, it would just magnify not only her own sense of insecurity but also how much the others trusted her to make the right choices and keep everyone safe.

She was responsible for herself now, right? She was meant to take the wheel. If that meant ostracizing herself from the other two, then so be it. I’m fine with this.

As she lay there in the darkness, she heard a tiny bit of shuffling behind her. 

...Right?

Chapter 4

Summary:

In which Marcy makes plans with Anne and Sasha.

Even in her sleep, Sasha looked stressed the hell out. 

It was perhaps ten in the morning, and Marcy had tasked herself with waking Sasha up before Anne came back from her walk. She sat there in the seat behind her, leaning over Sasha’s shoulder and looking at her face, and she could say with certainty that she looked stressed the hell out. Marcy almost didn’t want to wake her up in fear that she’d panic. She wondered how that was physically possible, to fall asleep looking you were in physical pain. Unless, of course, she wasn’t asleep, and she was just laying there with her eyes closed.

Wait.

Marcy smirked, brought up her arm, and poked Sasha in between the eyes.

Sasha took in a quick breath and blinked her eyes open, instinctually drawing back into her car seat and hitting her head against the center console. “Marcy, what the fuck-” She used her elbows to pick herself back up and her hand shot up to the back of her head. 

She giggled. “Mornin’, sunshine.”

“Why the hell would you wake someone up like that?” Sasha twisted around so she was sitting cross-legged in her seat with her back to the door and squinted at Marcy, exasperated. “Dammit- you made me hit my head!”

Marcy rolled her eyes and leaned her elbow on the center console, resting her chin on her hand. “You obviously weren’t sleeping,” she noted, then added teasingly in a voice mocking a mother to her young child, “and is your poor headie-bye gonna be okay? Do you want me to kiss it?”

“Yes!” Sasha blurted, then flushed. “I mean, no. I mean-” she took a deep breath and recomposed herself. “Yes, my head’s going to be okay. No, I don’t want you to kiss me.”

There was a beat, then Marcy snorted. After receiving a deadly glare from Sasha, she burst into a fit of laughter.

“ Marcy!” Sasha stuck out her hand and pushed her friend away, and Marcy sat up.

“I didn’t even say anyth-”

“Where’s Anne?” Sasha looked like she was on the brink of panic.

There was a beat of silence before Marcy answered. “Oh, she went out for a mornin’ walk,” she leaned her head on the seat but remained curled up on the floor. “Said something about trying to sort some stuff out in her head. I don’t blame her, really.”

Marcy winced when Sasha’s look of shock turned itself into a frown directed at her. “You… let her go,” she noted. “By herself.”

Rather than shrinking back further, Marcy pulled herself up onto the seat and squinted. The tone of the entire conversation shifted. “Of course I did. What, do you think she’s going to get herself hurt? Run off and leave the two of us alone?”

Sasha pinched the bridge of her nose in disappointment, almost like it should’ve been obvious, like she wanted Marcy to assume Anne would leave her behind. “Yes, Marcy, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of!”

“Oh, my God, Sash, can’t you have a little bit of faith in her? I’m pretty sure she’s tough enough to walk around the parking lot of a goddamned department store at ten in the morning.” Marcy felt as though she were personally being offended by Sasha’s lack of trust in their companion, rather than just feeling hurt that Sasha had originally tried to blame it on her, as if she could even stop her, as if she would’ve wanted to stop her.

“That doesn’t mean she’s not going to leave u-”

“She wouldn’t do that!” Marcy interrupted, snapping defensively, almost as though she were arguing her own case. 

“You don’t know that! We hadn’t spoken to each other at all after your funeral!” Sasha retorted, growing increasingly frustrated with what she saw as an unnecessary argument. They could have been on the road by now, but Anne had to go take a “walk,” so she was stuck in the car, first thing in the morning, arguing with Marcy.

Marcy was personally offended by this remark and frowned in distaste. “Excuse me?” She sounded calm, but there was an edge of hurt to her voice that she wasn’t entirely sure she was doing a good job of hiding. “I’m pretty sure I know my best friend well enough to figure out that she wouldn’t leave us. After all…” Marcy squinted, “only one of the two of us is acting like a huge jerk right now. Do you have any remorse? Better yet, consideration for the future of whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish? Why did you even bring her along if you thought she was going to bail on us the second she got the chance?”

She regretted the words immediately after they left her mouth, and she saw Sasha narrow her eyes, but instead of apologizing, she simply held her tongue. She did, however, allow her expression to soften a bit.

“Ha,” Sasha laughed. Rather, it wasn’t an actual laugh as much as a single syllable, dripping with sarcasm. “‘Best friend.’ I wouldn’t be too terribly surprised if your little ‘friendship’,” she picked up her hands and indicated air quotes with her fingers, “with Anne goes belly-up.” She turned back around in her seat so she was looking out of the windshield with her arms crossed. “You know, what with how quickly you’re replacing me and all.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Marcy cried, then upon realizing how childish she sounded, felt a warmth spread across her face. “And, you know, I sort of pride myself in the fact that I’m not you,” she added coldly.

“You can say that again.”

A pang of guilt gripped Marcy’s chest. She wasn’t used to Sasha making comments like that, and admittedly, she felt bad about the way she was acting. She chalked it up to being tired, but in all honesty she really was worried about the threat that internal conflict would impose. 

She knew that the tension would be high between the three of them all throughout the trip. Of course, she had no idea how long it would be, or… really where they were going at all. Still, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could handle this. It was almost as though at any time, she could say something mildly controversial and it would blow up in her face. Her and Sasha would just be in a constant loop of hurting each other.

Then again, what if Sasha deserved it? Marcy felt bad that the thought had come into her head, but she had to admit it had some credibility. She’d broken Anne’s heart so many times before and seemed to come out of their little arguments just fine, and while Anne was often devastated, Marcy would approach Sasha about their fights and she would regard it as no more than a brief teenage dalliance. 

Marcy had always found it frustrating that Sasha had always only shown such a shallow opinion, especially since she'd witnessed how affectionate the two were with each other when they were on good terms. 

For a while, Marcy was fine third-wheeling. It was nice, in a bittersweet way, seeing the two girls happy. That was, of course, when she started noticing a pattern and the two were on and off. Marcy had always been there to console Anne after rough “breakups” (that which would often be nullified within the next few weeks), but Sasha had always kept to herself, and though Marcy had tried to figure her out, Sasha had always stayed just barely out of her reach...

Perhaps she should get used to it. She’d gotten used to everything else, right? Having feelings for one of the two and not being able to say anything, sometimes being left out of things they normally did together as best friends… she could probably get used to being cooped up in a car with Sasha acting like a cold-hearted prick.

Still, she shifted her guilty gaze from the horizon and stared at Sasha, or at the very least, the back of her head. She was still silent. Finally, Marcy mustered up the courage to say something. “Do I, um… do you want me to go take a walk, too? Take some alone time?” A thought popped into the back of her mind as she briefly wondered if she’d be able to meet up with Anne and have some alone time together before they all had to figure out exactly what the hell was going on.

“No!” Sasha blurted, much to the surprise and admittedly slight disappointment of her companion She whipped around and Marcy could see a hint of panic in her eyes, something that hadn’t been there before. “I mean… Stay. Please.”

This, of course, flooded Marcy’s brain with another wave of emotions, thoughts, and questions that were hard to pick apart from one another. Originally, she wasn’t as much asking if she could go rather than telling Sasha that she was going to go.

Shocked, Marcy blinked. “Are you… okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

You wonder why I can’t seriously talk to you as easily as Anne. Marcy didn’t know what she expected, but she had to be fair, she wasn’t upset. She was more worried than anything, really, because though she knew the tension would cause problems, she could sense something bothering Sasha. She was hurting inside.

No. This didn’t have to be about her. Right? Marcy’s thoughts swung back and forth like a pendulum, trying to decide if she wanted to press Sasha about her sudden outburst, or if she wanted to give her the cold shoulder like Sasha seemed to do with her all those years whenever she was being asked to face her emotions. She sat there, not quite able to decide if she wanted to yell at Sasha or hug her or both, until something caught her attention from the corner of her eye as it approached the outside of the car.

Anne! 

Marcy’s heart leapt when she glanced out the window and saw Anne quickly flicker her eyes back and forth before walking across the parking lot. She scooted over to the window and glanced at Sasha one last time, opening her mouth to make a smartass comment before hesitating and biting it back, instead shifting her attention back to the window. 

Instead of opening the door and getting in, Anne leaned her shoulder against the side of the car door, and it only took a moment for Marcy to locate the window switch and press it down.

Anne bent down and poked her head into the window, grinning. “Mornin’, Sash!”

Marcy glanced at Sasha, who looked a little surprised by Anne’s bright greeting. “Hey. Good to see you… back?”

“Gee, Sash, don’t sound too excited now. What, you didn’t think I’d leave you, did you?” Anne snorted jokingly.

This remark was met by silence.

Anne blinked as she made the realization that Sasha had, in fact, thought she would leave them. “Oh. Oh. ”

“Well I, for one, never doubted you for a second,” Marcy interjected quickly, shrinking back in her seat as Sasha and Anne stared at each other.

Sasha then glared at Marcy, and everything was still and silent for a few moments.

Anne, sensing the tension, spoke up. “Uh… did something happen while I was gone?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sasha replied, though she kept her eyes on Marcy.

Marcy squinted back and resisted the urge to stick her tongue out.

“Right.” Anne seemed unsure about this, but there was nothing much she could do, so she simply stood back up and leaned against the car again. She ran her fingers through her hair. “You know, Marmar, after you…” she stopped to search for the words, “died, I guess, I sort of had this weird philosophical epiphany, like one day, far from now, we’d see each other again. I mean, that’s what everyone tells themself when they’ve lost a friend, right? You know, some ‘convincing-myself-of-the-afterlife-because-I’m-still-in-denial’ BS.”

Marcy frowned and put her arm through the window, resting her head on her hand so she could get a better look at Anne. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Wow, that got… really deep, real quickly.”

Anne let out a light, raspy laugh. “I guess I just didn’t expect it to be so soon, and I definitely didn’t think you’d show up at my door in a stolen vehicle courtesy of my…”

An unfamiliar feeling gripped Marcy’s chest as it occurred to her that Anne was confused, probably more confused than Marcy herself was. Marcy was mildly unsettled by this, but told herself there were bigger things at stake. They were running away from home, for God’s sake.

“...Other childhood friend.” Her gaze lingered on Sasha for a moment more before she turned her attention back to Marcy, giving her a soft smile.

Sensing a twinge of pain in Anne’s eyes, Marcy felt another jab of guilt, this time coming from a different place, not at all like when she’d argued with Sasha.

The look on Marcy’s face must’ve worried Anne, because her smile faded and she reached out her hand to wedge it under Marcy’s as it clung to the bottom of the window opening. When she interlocked their fingers, Marcy felt a sudden chill run down her spine.

“Hey, you’re alright,” Anne muttered softly, as if calming a spooked horse, half-smiling for a moment before she squeezed Marcy’s hand, released it, and then stood straight up. She clapped her hands together. “So! What do we do next, girls?”

Marcy was admittedly a bit dazed by her sudden panic and Anne’s brief display of affection, so it took her a moment to gather her thoughts. “Uh…” she turned around to Sasha for guidance. “Sash?”

“We’ll need to do a supply run,” Sasha answered blankly. “Anne, you brought a bag, right? And Marcy, your little… friend gave you supplies?”

Marcy answered first, eyeing her bag that she’d haphazardly stuffed under the seat. “Yeah. Yeah, he did.” She tried to remember everything. “A bit of cash, a liter water bottle, a bunch of change in case we need to make calls or do laundry, two changes of clothes, I packed hygiene stuff before I left my place, and…” Marcy paused. “A few personal items.”

“Personal items?” Sasha asked. “Like what?”

“Oh, sweet, a water bottle?” Anne chimed in, disregarding the fact that Sasha had a question. “Can I have that? That walk I took was pretty hot. It is the beginning of summer, after all.”

Marcy gently tugged the water bottle out of the side pocket of the bag and inspected it closely before holding it out to Anne. “I mean, I already drank some of it, but if you want to w-”

“Oh, well. Beggars can’t be choosers. Thanks, Marshmallow!” She quickly snatched the water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and started gulping it down in the middle of the parking lot.

“Dude,” Sasha looked confused and exasperated. “You could’ve just waterfalled it.”

Marcy just shrugged. She wasn’t all that bothered.

When Anne had all but emptied the rest of the water bottle, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and melodramatically gasped for air. “What can I say? I was thirsty. Besides, that’s terribly inefficient. Right, Marmar?”

“Sure…?”

“See? Besides, it’s not like her mouth germs are gonna kill me. Also, could you pass me my bag?” Anne tossed the near-empty water bottle across the car, attempting to throw it onto the floor in front of the backseat but horribly missing and instead bouncing it off the center console and hitting Sasha. “Sorry, Sash!”

Sasha groaned in frustration and placed the offending empty plastic bottle into the cupholder. “You’re fine,” she muttered through gritted teeth. 

Marcy shuffled around and located the other backpack, a pink one, and picked it up. “This one’s yours, right?”

Anne nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t have a lot of time to pack, what with being given such… short notice, so I’m not nearly as prepared as you, but I’ve got a change of clothes, my wallet and a hairbrush, a month’s supply of my meds, and, like, all of my school supplies, ‘cause this is my school backpack that I haven’t emptied for the summer yet. Sash?”

Sasha turned around in her seat to face the others, rather than just staying where she was and occasionally turning around. “My dad keeps a few hundred in the glove box in case of emergency,” she answered. “There’s a whole container-plastic-box-thing of water bottles behind the driver’s seat, which you would’ve been able to use instead of ingesting Marcy’s mouth germs if you paid any attention to your surroundings at all rather than being all wrapped up in each other.”

Marcy scoffed, offended. “You’re one to talk! You’re just being a bi- ”

“Woah, woah! Calm down, Marcy!” Anne interjected, trying to de-escalate the situation. “I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it. Gosh, the two of you are never like this. What the heck is up? I thought you two loved each other!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sasha mumbled.

Marcy sighed and decided to ignore that remark. “Look, Anne, I... we’re just… really stressed out. There’s nothing more to it. Nothing that’ll result in long-term resentment, no hidden grudges, we’re just tired and stressed.”

Anne frowned. “Hm… I get it, I get it.”

There was a moment of silence as the three girls decided on what to do next. Of course, Anne was the one with the ideas. “Hey I’ve got it! You guys are just cranky because you’re hungry!”

Both Marcy and Sasha lit up. “And… what do you propose we do about that?”

“There’s a chain pizza place a few blocks from here; I saw it while I was on my walk. We could go grab some brunch, pick up a map from a corner store, and talk about our plan? That’ll definitely help ease the tension, don’t ya think? You know what my mom always said, you’re never yourself when you’re hungry.” Anne took a step back and opened the car door. “I mean, I’d sure hope the two of you weren’t planning on being stuck in this car the whole day, arguing with each other.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Marcy scooted back a little bit so Anne had room to get in. “Right, Sasha?”

Sasha clearly didn’t agree so much, perhaps because she wanted to figure things out most efficiently and not necessarily most comfortably, maybe because she was being a stick in the mud, but she said she did anyway. “Yeah. Sure, fine,” she muttered dully before starting the car. “Just tell me where to go, I guess.”

“Great!” Anne sat down and buckled up, grabbing ahold of Marcy’s hand. “It’s a date, then!”

Marcy admittedly felt a little bad, but two out of the three of them enjoyed the idea. The warmth of Anne’s hand in hers spread through her body, and she felt most of her worries gently wash away, so as far as she was concerned, she was winning. She figured Sasha must, in fact, be a stick in the mud. Who wouldn’t like to get pizza with their friends like a normal teenager?

Better yet, what could possibly go wrong at a pizza date?

Chapter 5

Summary:

In which Marcy, Anne, and Sasha stop for lunch.

Click! Marcy heard the first sound as she stared silently out of the window. It wasn’t enough to grab her attention as she gazed silently out of the window, deep in thought. Colorful fantasies danced in her mind, distracting her from the fact that she was currently sitting in a car with two people she’d known for a long time, neither of them being what they had been to her two weeks before, not after she’d developed a crush on Anne.

As for Sasha… Marcy wasn’t sure what was up with Sasha. She glanced over to her reflection in the side mirror at the front of the car, then back to her own, shaking the feeling of dread that had suddenly come upon her when she saw Sasha’s intense expression. She filled her cheeks with air and made a funny face at herself.

“Marshmallow, look at me.”

She’d been staring at the reflection of her face and studying the soft curve of her own inflated cheek in the window when she heard a familiar voice call her name, pulling her back into reality. “Hm?” She heard another click and saw Anne’s face.

Rather, she didn’t see Anne’s face at first, but her hands around a camera and a ball of fluff. When she lowered the camera, she was howling with laughter. “Marcy, your face-” she wheezed.

“Mph…” Marcy felt a mild, dull stab of embarrassment in her gut and she quickly let the air out of her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands and groaned. “Anne!”

Anne reached out and ruffled her dark hair. “Too late, Marbles. Already gotcha.”

Marcy picked up her head and immediately snatched the camera from her hand, holding it high up in the air.

“Hey! Give it back!” Anne giggled and swiped at the camera, not moving too much from her side of the backseat as she was buckled up. She grabbed the air with no success.

Camera in hand, Marcy scooted back against the window and squinted at the screen on the camera again. She looked up at Anne and blew raspberries before returning her attention to it. “Why do you even have this thing?” she asked, pressing some of the buttons on the side to look through the recently taken photos. Several of them were taken there, in the car on their way to the pizza place a few blocks down.

“Just for fun,” Anne explained. “After all, I am going on a summer road trip with my two special girls.” She paused. “Road trip, right? I’m still a little confused with the whole, like, point of this… I’m not gonna miss a whole lot of school, am I? I already have to make up finals next fall.”

“I’m sure we’ll have you back home by the time summer ends.” Sasha spoke for what could’ve been the first time in several minutes. It was a vague answer, but that was all that any of the three of them could promise at the time. Even Marcy, the brains of the group, had to admit it.

Marcy continued scrolling through the photos, many of the most recent ones being of herself as she gazed out of the car window. Some were of the sunrise that morning, and there was even one or two from last night.

The photos taken in the two weeks before that were all of various cloudy, rainy days. Marcy felt a sick feeling in her stomach when she saw some photos from outside her house. There had been about five of these dark photos from every day since… she had disappeared. She almost said something about it, but bit her tongue.

Marcy tapped through several more of these (and frankly, depressing) photos before she made it out and stopped on a photo of Sasha.

She remembered that afternoon. The three of them had gone out to see a movie but had, funnily enough, stopped to get pizza on the way. Of course, it was a local, family-owned restaurant in which they had spent many an hour of their eleven-year-long friendship, laughing and eating and talking.

This photo, in particular, had Sasha as the center focus, a beam of light drawing lines across the frame. Sasha was smiling, laughing, her hair somehow more golden in the light of the late afternoon. She looked nothing like the girl who sat in the driver’s seat right now.

Of course, she hadn’t brushed her hair that morning, and she was clearly exhausted, but there was something else about her that seemed off that Marcy couldn’t quite place. Something… different.

Marcy smirked mischievously, a joking remark on her tongue as she avoided this thought. She studied the grown-out tuft of hair that came across Sasha’s forehead in the photo and curled downwards, and said, “Hey, Sash, has anyone ever told you that you look like an egg roll?”

Sasha whipped around in her seat, crossing her arms over the back. “What? You’re joking. Let me see that.” A smile tugged at her lips, though she was clearly trying to be serious.”

“I’m not kidding!” Marcy laughed. “Anne, look.”

Anne gasped the second she saw the photo. “Oh, my God, you’re being serious.”

Sasha tried to grab the camera. “Let me see!” she cried.

Marcy blew raspberries and punched her shoulder jokingly. “Hey! Anne said it’s my turn on the digital camera.”

In delayed response to the lighthearted blow, Sasha jerked the wheel to the side, still leaning over the back of her seat.

She smiled with satisfaction when she saw Marcy’s panicked expression and Anne, who sat in the back with her, clutching her seatbelt with one hand and the grab handle above the door with the other. “Woah, now, no hitting the driver,” she warned teasingly. She reached her hand out, palm up. “Now, gimme.”

“Sasha Waybright, you moron, you’d better turn your happy little ass around and drive properly or so help me, Marcy punching your arm will be the least of your worries,” Anne threatened, her voice shaking.

Sasha turned around and put both hands in front of her. “Jumpy, Boonchuy?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m jumpy. I thought my best friend died two weeks ago, and I just found out she was alive.” Anne still clutched her seatbelt but let go of the grab handle. “I’m not looking forward to losing her again any time soon.” She glanced at Marcy for a moment, then away, then back at her again as if she’d noticed something and felt the need to get a closer look. “Put your seatbelt on, you’re making me nervous!”

Marcy clearly stopped listening when her heart gave a flutter at the first remark, because she clearly ignored Anne’s remark. “Aww, Anne...”

“No flirting in the back seat. You’ll distract the driver.” Sasha laughed, and Marcy couldn’t help but sense a certain touch of bitterness about the remark. She felt a sudden pang of guilt at this.

Anne relaxed, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms. “I- it’s not-!”

Sasha looked pleased with herself upon putting her on the spot. “No arguing, either!”

“Who put you in charge?” Marcy asked.

“My car, my rules.” Sasha answered simply.

Marcy frowned. “This is a stolen car,” she deadpanned.

“Whatever,” she waved her hand dismissively. She whipped her head around if only for a second so she could see Anne. “Also, gosh, nice of you to sit back. You can relax, you know. Stay a while. It’s not like I’ll- AAAAUGH!” She screamed and jerked the wheel again, this time in the opposite direction.

Chaos ensued in the inside of Sasha’s dad’s Toyota, and everything felt like it was in slow motion over the next five seconds. Both girls squealed in surprise and fear, the momentum of the swerve throwing Marcy (who still wasn’t wearing her seatbelt) across the backseat into Anne’s chest. The car came to a sudden stop, and Marcy was thrown once again forward, this time unintentionally pulling Anne with her as she fell into the space between the front and back seats.

Sasha stopped screaming abruptly while the two were thrown about the car. Finally, the mayhem came to a stop, the only remnant being the blood-curdling screams of the two girls, before they opened their eyes and realized that they were not only still alive, but they were tossed into the most uncomfortable position. Marcy had fallen onto the floor of the car and clung on to Anne’s shirt. Anne was bent perpendicular to Marcy, and their noses were inches apart.

“We’re here,” Sasha noted, parking the car and pulling the key out. She turned around and looked at the two passengers, an amused glint in her eyes. “Woah, there, Marcy. A little close there, aren’tcha?”

Once the confusion subsided, Marcy felt her face flush with embarrassment and agitation as she processed Sasha’s remark and realized it was directed at her. She instinctively let go of Anne’s shirt, clearly not considering the consequences of doing so, because she fell back even further and had her upper arms pinned down to her sides. If she hadn’t been stuck before, she almost certainly was now. “Help,” she whimpered.

“Sasha, you asshole! ” Anne unbuckled and opened the door, being careful not to step on Marcy as she got out.

Marcy couldn’t move her head to see, but she could hear Anne’s feet hit the gravel, then a click, and suddenly she felt the space around her arms loosen, allowing her to sit up. She rubbed her arms for a second and pulled herself up onto her knees with the center console and twisted to face the door.

Anne still stood there, holding the seat back. She looked worried, but when she saw that Marcy was fine, her expression melted into a smile. “Goofball,” she teased.

“Awheheh,” Marcy laughed nervously. “Thanks.”

The moment only lasted a second, though, because Anne turned her attention back to scolding Sasha. “Dammit, Sash, never do that again! You could’ve gotten her hurt!” she cried. “The poor thing, she’s probably having a hard-enough time as it is without you being a jerk and messing with her.”

Marcy was frankly a bit rattled by Anne’s speaking of her as though she weren’t right there, sitting less than five feet away from her at that, but she shook the feeling. She was used to being treated like a kid by her, and why would she suddenly want that to change? Why did she suddenly want that to change?

Sasha frowned, displeased with the girls’ reaction to what she saw as some sort of funny joke. “Ugh, buzzkill.” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I was just trying to have a little fun.”

“Well, we were in the middle of the road with other cars, you can’t be that reckless!” Anne responded, throwing her arms in the air in exasperation.

“It wasn’t that bad! Everyone’s fine, right? No harm, no foul.”

It was then that Marcy realized Anne wasn’t just treating her like a child, but Sasha, too. She was struck with another feeling of guilt, this time for Anne. To be fair, though, the two of them had been acting like little kids ever since Sasha had woken up and started whining. Marcy took a deep breath and realized she wasn’t getting anywhere loathing her for it. If anything, the way she was treating them was entirely deserved, two spiteful little kids who only seemed to get along on their own terms.

Anne frowned. “One day, you’re not gonna be able to say that. We’ll see who’s laughing then.”

“Anne, it’s fine.” Marcy insisted. She felt a pain in her side, and figured it would probably bruise later. “I swear. It was just fun.”

“If you say so,” Anne huffed.

“So, girls!” Sasha slammed the car door and dusted her shirt. “Time for brunch, yeah? Are we taking it to go to the park or eating here?” she asked, changing the subject and pointing to the bench and table out in front of the pizza place.

Anne glanced at Marcy. “Here’s fine. Marmar?”

Marcy nodded wildly. “Yeah, totally. A hundred percent chill with me.”

Sasha snorted at this overly enthusiastic agreement and Marcy wondered if it had been that obvious.

After Anne reached into the car to grab her bag, she closed the door and two beeps signaled it locking. The three stepped around the car and made their way to the dirty wooden table that had been placed less than strategically under an oak tree and was therefore littered with leaves, acorns, and other organic residue that Marcy didn’t even want to imagine the origin of but could guess very well by the squirrel that had run up the tree when it saw them.

Anne dusted off the top of the table with her arm and set the back on top of it. she fidgeted with the small, crumpled-up pile of bills that Sasha had pulled out of the glove box of the Toyota and handed her before they’d headed off. “I’d say we only get one box. I don’t really want to have to take it with us, because the car is small as it is. There’s three of us, so we really should be able to at least mostly finish it.”

“What kind are we getting?” Marcy asked, not because she really cared what Anne chose as she probably would agree with it anyways, but because she figured Anne already had everything figured out and, for the most part, she appreciated that.

Both Sasha and Marcy looked at her expectantly, and her eyes darted between the two for a brief moment before she simply shrugged. “You two can agree on something. I’m honestly not that bothered.”

Suddenly, the two were no longer silent.

“Pepperoni,” Sasha blurted.

At the exact same time, as if on cue, Marcy answered, “Hawaiian.”

Upon realizing that they had answered at the same time, and even more bothersome, had come up with two different requests, the two stared at each other. Marcy squinted and frowned, and Sasha simply looked at her like she was crazy.

Sasha held the glare as her expression shifted and she laughed bitterly. “Since when have you liked Hawaiian pizza? ” she sneered. “You normally just go with whatever I want.”

“Since always,” Marcy muttered. “I just normally agreed with what Anne ordered, which just happens to normally be what you want.”

“Now, girls, it doesn’t have to be like this…” Anne stood up and waved her hands like she was calming a pair of hostile ats. “We don’t have to fight; we can agree on something. It’s no biggie, really-”

“Please,” Sasha continued, despite Anne’s warning. Her voice dripped with spite, and she spoke as though Marcy wanting a different kind of pizza were the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “What could possibly have changed between now and a few months ago?”

“Well, just maybe someone’s sick of having to sit back and do nothing about what she wants.” Marcy kept her voice low, but not so low as to where Sasha couldn’t hear.

“You know,” Anne interjected, still keen on saving the situation, “I’m getting a distinct feeling that this isn’t about pizza anymore.”

“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to stick up for yourself,” Sasha retorted, completely ignoring Anne’s attempted contribution to the discussion. “What, did you just wake up one day and decide you could push me around just because you never had before? Because you finally got off your high horse and picked a fight over the littlest thing just because you don’t have your ego to stop you?”

That was the last straw for Marcy. “ Pushing people around to get my way? Are you hearing yourself?” she slammed her hands on the table and kneeled up. “I have never gotten what I wanted. Every time, I duck out, not because I think I’m better than you, but because I cared about you. I looked up to you, went as far as to put you on a pedestal. I valued you and the things you wanted.”

Sasha’s expression was a mixture of shock and offense. She was rendered utterly speechless.

Marcy felt her face grow hot, and tears came to her eyes. No. That was the last thing she wanted, to cry in front of Sasha. Her voice shook as she finished. “I realize now that you’re not much better than I am.”

After what felt like minutes of silence between the three, Anne opened her mouth to speak.

Before she could make a sound, she was interrupted by a slam as Sasha, too, slapped the wooden table and stood up. “What the hell are you going on about? Who picked you up when you called her at eleven at night, begging her to come get you? Who’s been risking her life to get you away from here?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“But would it kill you to show some fucking compassion?”

Sasha laughed at this. “Marcy, sweetie, you might as well be asking the pizza what it wants. Would that make you feel better?”

Marcy blushed angrily, having clearly not been taken seriously. “Don’t condescend me,” she snapped.

“My point is-”

“Sasha, I don’t care what your point is at this point,” Marcy growled. “You just… you-”

“If you hate dealing with me so much, why don’t you fucking leave us again?” Sasha slammed her fists on the table. “Why don’t you? It seems like a you thing to do, doesn’t it? When something gets too hard, you back down. You always have. And when you decided that something about your life was just too unbearable for you , you up and ran away.”

“That’s enough!” Anne finally roared.

The bickering came to a sudden, screeching halt. Not because the issue discussed had been resolved, far from it, but because none of the three of them had expected such a sudden statement. Maybe they’d all thought about it, sure, and had the decency not to say it, but this would still surprise all three of them, not even sparing the person who had said it. With the way that decency had escaped Sasha, it occurred to Marcy that she’d hit a nerve.

The three stared at each other in silent shock as the statement sunk in.

After a few excruciatingly long seconds of silence, Marcy blinked and felt the tears in her eyes escape, streaming down her cheeks. She realized she’d been holding her breath, and she tried to open her mouth to speak, but what came out weren’t words. Instead, the first sound to pierce the air was a choked sob. Shit. She rubbed the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and tried to take a deep breath to regain her composure, but these efforts were met with two more heaving sobs. She glanced helplessly at Anne, who stared at Sasha, then to Sasha, who still hadn’t overcome the initial shock of what she’d said. Marcy did the last thing she could really think of doing and turned her head away so they couldn’t see her.

“Let it out, Marmar. It’s okay to cry.”

Anne’s voice was soft on Marcy’s ears, but it hardly made her feel any better. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want Anne to see her like this, crying like a child because someone said something mean to her. She gritted her teeth and remained silent.

Sasha had never been good at dealing with things like this, so Marcy understood when she froze up, unable to say anything. Perhaps she had even preferred that reaction over the near-condescending coddling she would’ve received otherwise, even if condescension wasn’t the initial intention.

After what could have been a minute or two of the two girls standing there, silent and motionless, watching Marcy as she quietly sobbed and not quite knowing what to do with themselves, Marcy heard a chime and a door open.

She instinctively picked up her head and saw a lady in a uniform with the pizza place’s logo emblazoned upon it and a name tag that read "Bella". She didn’t look much older than the girls themselves, but she spoke with a certain amount of authority. “Ladies, are you going to order? That table is kind of for customers o-” She stopped when she actually took a second to look at them. Her eyes darted between the three, briefly making eye contact with Marcy, before she realized what had been going on and sighed. “Tourists,” she muttered, turning right back around. “I’m not paid enough for this.”

Anne stood up, grabbing Sasha by the wrist. “Come on,” she told her, as though she had a choice and were quite literally not being dragged away from the table.

Marcy silently watched them walk away, her face still wet with tears. Another lump formed in her throat as she watched Anne open the door, but she held the longing glance in her direction until the door shut behind them.

Notes:

alternate summary: marcy learns exactly what can possibly go wrong on a pizza date lmfao
i actually wrote this chapter and the next together and decided to split it in two because like, total it was almost 8k words but hehehehehehehehe :> enjoy this for the week

Chapter 6

Notes:

good morning

Being left alone was the last thing Marcy wanted right now. She crossed her arms in front of her, then let her head fall forward. She took in a deep, sniffly breath, then sighed. 

It was a quiet afternoon, something Marcy wasn’t used to, what with living in Los Angeles. The morning had been the second quietest part of the day, just for that little bit of time when Sasha had still been asleep but there had been non-stop noise ever since. While this made logical sense to Marcy as she hadn’t been able to take a moment’s breath away from the other two, she couldn’t help but feel a bit ostracized by the others. She felt lonely, but there was a part of her that felt almost as though she deserved it. She’d caused so much unnecessary conflict, and she didn’t even blame them for wanting to take a moment away from her. 

Marcy must’ve been deeper in thought than she’d expected, because a few minutes later when she felt something gently touching her arm, her heart leapt. Then, almost instinctively, without picking her head up, she snapped out a curt response. “Go away.” 

“Marcy...” 

When she heard the familiar voice, she picked her head up. She saw Anne’s soft, concerned expression and any trace of resentment she’d held melted away in an instant. “Oh! Anne, I...” she stammered. “I’m sorry, I thought-” 

She was interrupted as Anne practically threw herself at her, gripping her tightly in a hug and sitting down in one brisk movement. 

As Marcy felt the warmth of her friend pressing against her, she felt the tears come back into her eyes. It took her a moment to process the sudden display of affection, but when she did, she returned the hug, moving her face so her chin no longer rested atop Anne’s shoulder, but was instead pressing into her. 

With the tears coming back, so did the sobs, to which Anne responded by holding Marcy yet tighter. “Hey, it’s alright,” she whispered reassuringly. Her voice was so gentle, sweet on Marcy’s ears. “No one blames you for running away, and we certainly don’t curse you for coming back. She didn’t mean anything by what she said, honest. She just...” Anne laughed bittersweetly. “You know how mean she can be sometimes.” 

Marcy wanted to say something back, but she realized her words would be muffled, so she just replied with a nod. She remembered more than anything how awful Sasha could be to Anne. She just never expected it to be directed at her. 

She felt Anne’s hand on the back of her head, pulling her close. “She cares about you, you know.” 

I doubt that. Though Marcy didn’t say anything, she felt the smallest pang of guilt about that immediate first thought. 

Anne must’ve sensed the slight hesitance, because almost as though reading her mind, she continued with yet more reassurance. “She does, really. She cares about you almost as much as I do.” 

Almost. She was sure Anne meant nearly nothing by including that little word, but it echoed in Marcy’s mind, nonetheless. Finally, she said sheepishly, “She doesn’t act like it.”  

Her voice was muffled by Anne’s sleeve, but it was clear enough that she understood. “You know how tough she is? Rather, how tough she tries to be, or wishes she was, or...” 

Marcy nodded, then pulled out of the hug so she could talk more easily. Instead, she rested her head on her hand and leaned against the top of the picnic table, paying no mind to the leaves that stayed scattered all over it. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. What about it?” 

Anne crossed her arms and started fiddling with one of the dry oak leaves, pinching it between the tip of her forefinger and thumb. “She’s not all that scary, deep down. She can be soft, sweet, kind...” Anne then smiled at nothing in particular, but Marcy noticed that even her smile carried a certain pain, like she was telling an old friend about a late lover. “It’s even annoying sometimes, how she can be so perfect and make you forget all about how deeply broken she is.” 

Marcy tilted her head, confused. 

“What I’m saying is...” Anne laughed lightly when she glanced over at Marcy’s perplexed expression, “she tries to act all tough, because she thinks that if she lets you look deeper, you’ll be able to see the cracks, those little things that make her seem not so great.” 

Scoffing, Marcy swept her arm across the table to remove some of the leaves. “Why would she care what I think?” she asked, her tone laced with dejection. 

“Because your opinion does mean something to her.” 

This caught her off guard. Marcy’s eyes glittered as she gazed up at Anne. 

“Your thoughts and words are powerful, Marcy, and almost no one values them as much as her.” 

There it was again. Almost. Marcy was once again distracted from the matter at hand as her thoughts lingered on that single word, snagging on it as if it were a thorn. 

 “Why do you think she was so hurt when you treated her like she didn’t care? Why would she even be hurt if you meant nothing to her? She might not be able to admit it to you for the sake of her own God-damned pride, and, yes, and that might be something she needs to work on about herself, but to say she doesn’t care is naïve.” She rested her hand gently on Marcy’s arm, stopping it from idly sweeping across the table and pulling her focus back to the discussion. “ And let me tell you, when you told her you valued her opinion as much as she values yours...” 

“It hurt her even more when I said I thought she didn’t care,” Marcy finished, no more than a twinge of uncertainty in her voice. “Oh. Oh.”  

Anne nodded. 

“Oh, God, I messed up.” She ran her fingers through the longer front of her hair, then slapped her hands on the table and sat straight up as if she’d come to some massive revelation. “Of course. I should’ve seen it. That’s why she’s been such an assh- er, that’s why she’s acted... sort of... distant?” The statement sounded almost like a hesitant question. 

“What? I thought you two were cool!” Anne seemed genuinely surprised to hear that they hadn’t been getting along. “I mean, obviously, up until now.” 

Marcy shook her head sadly. “We got into a fight this morning, too.” 

“Over what?” 

“I can’t explain it, I just-” Marcy froze. “Trust me, it makes a lot of sense now that I look at it.” 

“Please, God, don’t say you two have been fighting this whole time.” 

Marcy didn’t say anything. What, she wasn’t going to lie.  

Anne sighed, exasperated. “We’re spending the next foreseeable future evading the law in a small car, being forced to share food, time, and personal space with each other. Forgive me for looking at it this way, but you know what that means, right?” 

A sudden pang of guilt overcame Marcy. “There’re gonna be no secrets? We’re not gonna have any alone time?” she guessed. 

“Well, yeah, but... that’s not my point! We’re literally stuck with each other. There’s no way to get away from each other if we suddenly decide we hate each other.” 

“Oh.” Marcy racked her brain, unable to find anything to counter, unable to reason with it. “Right.” She sat there silently, saying nothing, looking like a kid who had just told their mom that they had left their backpack at home and were going to have to turn back around and get it. 

It was several seconds before the conversation was able to continue. 

“Look, I… I know you couldn’t actually hate her, but the two of you… obviously have grown more distant in the months leading up to your… uh…” Anne had a hard time searching for the words, so she stopped dead to reevaluate. Then, she simply asked, “Why did you do it?”

Marcy’s mind had moved from the matter, so she was confused by the question. “What?” 

“Why’d you call for her?” 

“She can drive.” 

The slight hurt faded from her expression. “Oh, that... makes a lot of sense, actually.” 

There was another awkward moment of silence as Marcy mustered the courage to ask a question of her own. “Why, um... why did you do it?” 

“Come with you? I mean, you’re my best friend. I sorta thought you were dead until, like, twelve hours ago.” She paused. “Also, maybe I, uh-” 

Marcy interrupted and shook her head. “No, no. Why did you break up with her?” 

Anne took a quick, pained breath through her teeth. 

“You don’t have to say if you’re uncomfortable!” Marcy waved her hands as if she had already stepped too far. “I just... I know you like to sort your thoughts out with m-” she paused, “someone you trust, and maybe it would help relieve some tension...?”" 

“No, you’re good! I’ll talk. It just doesn’t make sense when I say it out loud. I just...” Anne sighed and leaned her head back, looking at the sky as she gathered the words in her mind. Marcy was patient as she watched. “It wasn’t the same without you,” she finally explained. “I know it’s a weird thing to say, but I... I felt like I was a different person... after all that happened, you know. I don’t know if it would’ve changed me forever, but I just... Sasha and I- we...” She stumbled over her words. “I had to sort a lot of stuff out. I felt like I couldn’t love her properly if I had to... relearn to love myself.”  

Marcy felt her heart drop into her stomach as she realized exactly how much of an emotional weight the situation had put on Anne’s shoulders. She was used to seeing the two, on and off, getting into the pettiest arguments but being back together by the end of the next week. Something about this seemed different, though. There was always something more, some other, more shallow problem that had caused them to harshly judge their previous relationship. Frankly, it was kind of preachy. Marcy couldn’t help but read a certain... sense of finality about the affair. 

“She was being a huge dick, too.” Anne laughed sheepishly. 

There it was. Marcy had to make the conscious effort not to frown in disappointment. 

“And... with her constantly begging for attention, and my... sudden self-loathing, it just-” Her voice cracked. “It just wasn’t going to work out right then.” 

“So... it’s a temporary thing?” 

“I hope so,” Anne whispered, as if Sasha were right there and had been listening to the conversation. “Yeah. Probably,” she added, this time with a bit more confidence.  

Marcy’s head spun. “You still...” Her head was spinning. “You... still l- like her.” 

Anne let out yet another strained laugh. 

Of course . Marcy looked away and pulled her knees to her chest as though it would muffle what she had to say. “I don’t know why you torture yourself like this. She doesn’t deserve you.” 

“What?” The second she heard the apprehensive tone of Anne’s voice, she regretted it. 

“No! Nononono, I mean- you’re so sweet and kind and perfect and she's so… I mean, I’ve been around long enough to know that she’s never really done anything but hurt you, and- I think if you would just give something else a chance, you could really-” 

“Look, I know you’re pissed at her, but don’t you dare drag me into this.” Anne stood up, and Marcy shrunk back. She’d never once seen Anne so defensive outside of her interactions with Sasha herself. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but I know that you tend to think things you don’t mean when you’re upset, so-” 

Without thinking, Marcy blurted, “You know what I’m saying! You just don’t want to hear it.” 

Clearly shocked and unsure of what to say, Anne pinched the bridge of her nose and tilted her head back, looking something like a distressed mother. “Look, Marcy, I can’t do this with you right now. I don’t need someone to criticize me for things I really can’t control. What I need is for someone to listen to me, and…” She sighed and leveled her gaze to meet Marcy’s. “You know, I never thought I’d see the day where I couldn’t tell my best friend about the girl I like without her lashing out. It’s not your problem, I’m not asking you to deal with it. I just… want you to be here.” 

Marcy looked into Anne’s eyes for as long as they held their gaze, before she looked away, a feeling of guilt overcoming her. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her voice cracking on the last syllable. 

Anne reached out for Marcy’s arm, prying it away from her body and slipping her hand into hers. “Marcy, I trust you more than almost anyone-” 

Almost . Marcy stared straight at the wooden picnic table in front of her. 

“-and I wouldn’t give that up for the world. I want to be able to talk to you without being afraid or keeping secrets. Can you do that?” Anne intertwined their fingers and, gently and affectionately, squeezed Marcy’s hand. When she glanced back at her, Anne gave her a sad half-smile. 

Can I? Marcy simply froze, really unsure of what she could say, desperately searching for something that she was sure of. “I love you,” she whispered after several seconds of hesitation. 

“Love you too, buddy.” 

Ouch . 

A chime could be heard. Instinctually, Marcy glanced over to the door of the pizza joint and saw Sasha with a single box in her hands. 

As she walked out of the door, she yelled back, “Thanks,” in a frustrated tone deeply contrasting with the message the words carried, almost like she was being sarcastic. As the glass door closed behind her, she slouched forward over the box. “Fuckin’ bitch,” she added under her breath. 

“Sasha!” Anne cried, a little too gleefully in Marcy’s eyes.  

It was likely the pressure of the realization, but now, in the afternoon sunlight, she was able to see the way Anne’s face lit up. The way her pupils dilated, the way she wore that stupid shit-eating grin that Marcy had found herself utterly head over heels with. The way her voice was higher as she spoke her name. 

Truthfully, Marcy wished it had been her that she looked at that way. 

The moment the thought popped into Marcy’s head, she regretted it. It would turn into another problem she filed away in the cabinet of her mind to deal with later. 

Despite being acknowledged so cheerfully by Anne, Sasha’s eyes lingered on Marcy as she approached with the  

Sasha set down the pizza box silently, opening it up and taking a slice from “her” half. She then sat down on the opposite side of the table as the other two and rudely chomped the slice, not even bothering to take a napkin despite having clearly taken some from inside. She chewed for a solid few seconds before she realized the other two girls were goggling at her, unmoving. She froze. “What? Can’t a girl eat?” She then mumbled a series of expletives under her breath. 

“Don’t you have something you want to say?” Anne raised an eyebrow before taking two napkins, tossing one in front of Marcy. She then turned around the pizza box and nudged it toward Marcy, allowing her to take the first pick. 

“Right.” Sasha still spoke with her mouth full. “Hi, Anne.” She took another large bite before she’d even finished the first.  

Anne sighed in disappointment. Then, she cleared her throat and tipped her head slightly in Marcy’s direction. 

Marcy kept her narrow-eyed gaze on Sasha as she took a single slice of Hawaiian pizza from the box and set it on her napkin before pushing the box back towards Anne. 

Upon seemingly just realizing what Anne was talking about, Sasha’s eyes widened. “Oh. Yeah. Marcy.” She didn’t so much as make eye contact. “’M sorry, I guess.” 

“Sasha...” Anne warned. 

Marcy smiled smugly as Anne fussed over her. 

Sasha groaned and looked at Marcy before she spoke, though her tone was only slightly more sincere and still deadpan. “I’m sorry for what I did. I acknowledge that in my stress, I may have said things that were harmful to myself and those around me.” She recited the words like a script, and Marcy didn’t doubt for a second that she was repeating word-for-word what Anne had told her when they’d been in line. Sasha’s next words seemed a little more like something she’d actually say. “I guess I’ve... just been a huge jerk to you for no reason at all. I mean, I love you. You’re smart and sweet and... I guess you’re one of my best friends in the world.” It seemed physically painful for her to admit, and Marcy was rather amused by this fact. She looked like she wanted to say more, but instead she simply gazed at Marcy with a look sadder and softer than Marcy was sure her face was capable of.  

It occurred to Marcy that she knew the feeling. 

Shit.  

“Aw, see? That wasn’t too hard. You can even be sweet about it.” Anne’s soft voice pulled Marcy out of her own head. “Now, give her a hug.” 

“What?” Sasha spluttered incredulously. “But you- we didn’t talk about that!” 

Marcy laughed awkwardly. “Anne...” 

“You’ve made up with each other, now you’ve got to make it up to me for dragging me out of bed at two in the morning on summer vacation, telling me that my best friend didn’t actually die, but ran away, only to have to deal with the two of you being assholes to each other.” Anne crossed her arms. “The least you can do is hug it out.” 

Marcy felt a pang of guilt at this 

“What do you gain from this?” Sasha asked under her breath, just loud enough for the others to hear. 

“I get to see to it that my girls are getting along, and my summer isn’t ruined. Come on, it can’t be that hard to hug your best friend.” 

Marcy gave Sasha a cocky smirk and spread her arms, facing her palms out. “Bring it in, bitch boy,” she joked. 

With a short flicker of a glare in Marcy’s direction and a defiant groan, Sasha stood up, leaving the crust of her pizza in the lid of the box, ignoring the disgusted glance she was given by Anne as she dragged her feet about the table. 

Marcy’s heart skipped a beat as she realized that neither Anne nor Sasha had been joking.  

Or maybe, that’s exactly what it was. A joke. To Sasha, at least. Marcy couldn’t tell for sure until she felt her arms draped lazily over her shoulders in a sort of lazy half-hug from behind. 

Now, Marcy wouldn’t say she was a hugger, but of course, as with any self-proclaimed non-hugger, there would be exceptions. Yet she wouldn’t quite say she was touch-starved; while, of course, her family had admittedly done their fair share of making her feel ostracized by most other people on even a physical level, the only exception to her no-hugs rule up until this point had been the overly affectionate Anne. But as she sat there at the picnic table, with Sasha hardly so much as brushing her shoulders, it occurred to her that, shit, maybe she was touch starved.

Of course, as a dramatic sixteen-almost-seventeen-year-old teenager, the equally dramatic moment was temporary and there were still what seemed to be an infinite number of things that still needed to work themselves out. Still, at the end of the day, no number of snarky remarks or petty half-hugs could unmoor them from the past they shared, and, consequently, each other. 

It would take something much more, something that none of them could begin to fathom. Almost.  

Something that had already begun chipping at the corner of Marcy’s mind. 

But just as the sudden burst of emotion and thought that found its way into her mind had been, the anxiety was fleeting. Something would remain, though it was all lost at that moment. 

At that moment, there was nothing Marcy wanted more than to twist around and throw her arms around Sasha, holding her tighter than she’d just about held anyone. So, that’s exactly what she did. 

“Aww...” Anne was clearly surprised, even pleased by this. “Look at that.” 

Sasha, on the other hand, was shocked by this sudden show of affection, and she removed her arms from Marcy’s shoulders, instead leaning back and shooting an awkward glance back and forth between both Anne and the girl clinging to her own chest. “Um,” she chuckled nervously, “Marcy, you don’t have to- I don’t w-” 

Suddenly, Marcy emitted a sob, and Sasha spoke again, this time with a kinder tone. “Marcy...” 

Perhaps it was then, having witnessed Marcy’s sudden breaking down, that Sasha remembered that the world didn’t revolve around her. Maybe she’d begun to feel a bit of sympathy, knowing that whatever she’d witnessed in the past three weeks, Marcy had gone through something she couldn’t even begin to understand. Whatever the reason, Sasha hesitantly returned the hug.

The three were silent for a moment, before a second sob from Marcy followed the first. Then, another. Marcy thought it was funny; she had never once cried this much over the course of a single day. She could give the thought no more than an airy huff of a laugh before her lungs shuddered. 

She felt a hand placed gently atop her head. “You-” she heard the start of Sasha’s voice, followed by a quick, sharp exhale. “You’re... okay?” The statement seemed more like a question, despite the usual reassurance associated with the thought.  

Marcy could tell that Sasha was still looking at Anne for guidance, but it was okay. She knew she was trying, even if the two of them had never shared a moment so affectionate. Frankly, she wished it could have lasted forever. 

But it couldn’t. There were still things that had to be done. Marcy pulled out of the hug and wiped her face, giving a long look in Sasha’s eyes. She smiled tearfully. “Okay. I’m done now.”

The two were unexpectedly pushed back together, this time with Anne’s arms embracing the both of them. “You guys, that was painfully awkward to watch, but it was so sweet!” she cried. “I knew you had it in you.” 

Sasha and Marcy laughed airily, the latter of the two’s arms wedged between the former’s chest and her own, and sensing that the moment was over, Anne pulled away. 

Deciding to ignore the way Sasha looked at her as they brushed arms, Marcy scooted slightly towards Anne, dragging her napkin and the slice of pizza with her. She picked it up and took a bite, glancing between the other two as she waited for either one of them to start speaking. 

Naturally, Sasha was the first to say something, despite faltering a bit as she tried to find the words. “So... this trip.” She reached in front of Marcy to pick up another slice of pizza and take a bite. “Yes, I know that two out of the three of us are… technically evading the law, and thus making Anne technically an accomplice, but, like, we might as well have some fun with it, yeah? It’s summer vacation, after all.” 

Anne picked the pineapples off the top of her slice and placed them on Marcy’s napkin. “I know a town that’s... six or seven hours west of here, I think. My, uh... grandpa comes from there, and if he weren’t in Bangkok with my parents right now, he’d be flying over there for the annual summer vacation celebration held in a little farm area.” 

“You mean old Hopediah?” Sasha shot a quizzical glance at Marcy’s new pile of pineapples. “Sometimes I forget you call him your grandpa. What’s up with that?” 

“It’s... a long story.” Anne frowned at Sasha. “I could’ve sworn I’ve told you about that...?” 

As if out of instinct, Marcy instead volunteered the information. She swallowed the last bite of her pizza, setting the crust down. Her voice was still weak when she spoke, but at the very least she was able to string coherent thoughts together. “I remember. When your folks moved from Thailand, old Mr. Plantar-” 

“Please, he’d want you to call him Hop Pop,” Anne reminded. 

She fondly recalled the old man telling her such a thing. He insisted that Anne’s best friend was like another granddaughter to him, an idea she found ironic. “...Hop Pop, then. When he was younger, he’d moved to LA after raising his kid in Arizona, right?”

Anne nodded, then glanced at the remainder of Marcy’s slice of pizza. “Are you gonna eat that?”

“Jesus Christ, Anne!” Sasha cried, wrinkling her nose.

She laughed and rolled her eyes, stuffing the crust into her mouth. “Again with the mouth germs shit. Look, we’re all gonna be up in each other’s faces anyway. Might as well get used to it.”

“That was when he met Mr. and Mrs. Boonchuy,” Marcy continued. “No one really knows why, but he was oddly empathetic for the two. He was the first to-”

“Dude, I know you love your lore, but I didn’t ask for Anne Boonchuy Unabridged,” Sasha interrupted snarkily. 

And just like that, it was over. Marcy frowned and glared.

“Oh, lay off, Sash.” Anne’s attempt to make light of the situation was admirable, but Marcy couldn’t quite bring herself to fully appreciate it. Then, under her breath, she mumbled a short bit that Marcy couldn’t hear, only pulling apart words and phrases like “her fault,” “at least someone,” and “why do I even…?”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay. Anyways… you say it’s a family thing? You’re pretty much family, right?”

Anne traced her finger along the map she’d pulled up on her phone absentmindedly. “Uh, yeah. They aren’t expecting me this year, though. It won’t be the first time someone just shows up, though. I’m sure I'll be welcome. Maybe even stay a few days.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Sasha sniffed. 

“What about us?” Marcy blurted. Something about the way Sasha had just invited herself rubbed her the wrong way. “I mean, obviously, Sasha and I could sleep in the car, but…?”

“Oh, you two will be fine,” Anne giggled. Marcy wondered if she, too, had picked up on Sasha’s insertion. “Remember last time, Sash? They pretty much treated you like royalty when you were my date.”

Sasha puffed out her cheeks.

“You’ve been to the summer celebration?” Marcy exclaimed in frustration. “And you don’t remember any of this. ”

“Chill, Mars,” Anne sighed. “You know her memory is complete ass.”

Not when it’s convenient to her, she wanted to say. Marcy kept her mouth shut. “F… ine…” she muttered.

“I’ve got it!” Anne showed her phone to Sasha. “Six hours and twenty-one minutes. We can make it by this evening if we get going soon.”

Sasha shrugged. “Sounds like a solid plan, Anne.” She stood up at the picnic table and balled up her own napkin, tossing it in the general direction of the trash can. It landed on the side, but she continued toward the car. She burped loudly and jingled the keys in her pocket.

Marcy frowned, but her expression softened when she saw Anne start cleaning up out of the corner of her eye. 

She took both napkins and set them into the trash can, before giving Marcy a sweet smile and saying, “Need a hand with those?” She flicked Sasha’s haphazardly tossed napkin into the hole.

Having lost her train of thought and drifted off into her movement, Marcy’s head was spinning when she snapped back to Earth. The pizza boxes . 

“Oh! No, of course. I, uh… I’ve got it.” Marcy stood up, moving the slices around into one collective box. She wrinkled her nose at the mixture. Beggars can’t be choosers, she told herself as she picked up the pizza boxes.

“Marce, Anne!” Sasha called. The car beeped twice. “We don’t have all summer.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Anne replied cheerfully, skipping to join her.

Marcy sighed in defeat.

Chapter 7

Summary:

In which Anne daydreams in the car.

The car ride to Croaker’s Creek had been dead silent.

Sasha drove, of course. From the back seat, where she sat with Marcy, Anne could see the way Sasha’s muscles flexed as she gripped the steering wheel with both hands. She was tense; her knuckles turned white, her jaw clenching so tight that Anne could swear she could hear the squeak of her teeth grinding against one another.

Anne had more or less expected it to be like this. She knew from her years of experiencing the constant power struggle against Sasha. Regardless of who ultimately had their way with most of these battles, Anne had to admit she felt a little bad. 

She hadn’t always stood up against Sasha. Anne’s elementary and middle school years were riddled with the same insecurity typically experienced by Catholic school students. Back in those years, strict rules set forth by their teachers claiming to know the way of the Lord were the guiding force by which she lived. Everything she did was watched and judged carefully. She’d been trained to become  paranoid — and rightfully so. Certain parents and teachers would make comments indirectly applying to her family’s background, their practices, their values… 

She had hated those years she’d spent masking and boymoding in hopes of meeting those impossible expectations that had been set by her peers. If she hadn’t been offered free admission and transportation through the boys’ tennis team (which, as one would expect, became the source of a whole new level of insecurity), she doubted her parents would ever have allowed her to go. And those two girls who lived just down the street… Sasha and Marcy quickly became the only two people she could trust.

But then, everything changed. The month after she’d graduated from that damned school, she finally came out. Gone were the days of acting and dressing the way they wanted her to, of cutting her hair so it wouldn’t touch her shoulders. Gone were the days of hiding who she was, and gone were the days that gave way to a brand new Anne. High school had brought about a whole new era of self-discovery and exploration.

The transition from a smaller school to a larger, public school had treated each of the three differently; Sasha had practically been made for the Hollywood high school experience. Anne and Marcy, on the other hand, were quite overwhelmed and twice as hesitant. Sasha went out of her way to put her best friends in the shared spotlight, but it didn’t seem like it could fit three wildly different personalities. Marcy had never really been a people person, so Anne naturally found herself in the middle of the two. 

When Sasha and Anne started dating, the changed dynamic turned Marcy into the latter’s sole confidant. And when they had broken up for the first time, Marcy immediately took Anne’s side. This, Anne believed, was the thing that pitted the two against each other. Long story cut painfully short, the trio thing didn’t really work out in high school.

And now they were stuck with each other.

Oddly enough, Anne felt… hopeful.

Why?

Because maybe this was exactly the sort of thing they needed to fix it all.

In her search for some sort of silver lining, Anne had seen everything else, too: the urgent glares from Marcy, the disgruntled groans from Sasha. Clearly meant only for each other’s eyes, but that wouldn’t stop Anne from noticing every little thing between them. They were her life, after all.

For the first time in weeks, as she stared out of the car window. Anne was feeling something that wasn’t just sadness or resentment. It was like she was completely oblivious to the residual tension in the air. If anything, she seemed to revel in it — almost as if she were in denial about the gravity of their situation.

---

Some weeks before…

Long before the bell rang, Anne heard the whispers. Hushed whispers, those of courtyard gossip, quiet enough so that the words being spoken were only audible to the person that uttered them and the friend the words were meant for. Whispers that ceased when a school faculty member walked by, resuming the second they turned the corner. It took Anne a while to pick out what the whispers said, and she strained to pick up snippets of different conversations between students, putting them together in her head like a jigsaw puzzle.

She stood there on the sidewalk near the furthest water fountain from the school on the warm, summer day, listening, gathering pieces as she awaited the arrival of her girlfriend. Even though she stood there for the first ten or fifteen minutes before classes started, she was only able to gather a few clues, and was nowhere near seeing the full picture.

The whispers said that school was ending a few weeks early because something happened to one of the students.

The whispers said a student had run away from their parents.

The whispers said the student was a junior.

The whispers said a junior died.

The whispers said she committed suicide.

Her poor friends, the whispers said, but did she even have any friends? Did any of them really know her?

The whispers said she was in the chess club.

The whispers said she probably had friends there.

It occurred to Anne that her best friend, Marcy Wu, was in the chess club; in fact, she was the proud captain of an undefeated team (likely because there hadn’t been enough schools participating to really have tournaments). She’d probably know what was up. Of course, Marcy had told her and Sasha that she wouldn’t be coming to school on Monday. Still, maybe Marcy knew who she should keep an eye out for, maybe letting her draw the connections on her own. She took out her cell phone with the intention of shooting her a quick text.

Just then, she heard a familiar voice call to her from just over her shoulder. “Hey, beautiful.” Sasha planted a quick kiss on her cheek and grinned.

The two started walking together, making their way to the school’s main entrance. “How’s the awesomest and most prettiest girl in the world doing this morning?” Anne asked cheerfully.

Sasha thought for a moment, tilting her head. “I don’t know, haven’t talked to her today. How is she?”

“She stayed home from school today,” Anne answered. Her mind had already drifted off towards the aforesaid issue.

Sasha’s anticipating grin faded a bit. “I... was asking about you.”

“Oh! Sorry, I was... my mind got all fuzzy. Argh, everyone’s acting so weird today and it’s messing me all up. And Marcy’s not here.”

“Oh,” Sasha looked confused. “Yeah. She’d probably know what’s up.”

“Right? That’s what I thought,” Anne laughed.

A loud ringing sounded from the school’s intercom the second they stepped through the door. Sasha slouched forward. “Damn it,” she swore. “I got up early and still managed to make it to school late.”

Anne frowned. She’d waited for Sasha every day since they’d started dating again and every day, they were tardy. “Haven’t you been driving yourself recently?”

“Yeah,” Sasha answered, quickening her pace. “But my dad keeps getting on my ass about using his car. He doesn’t like me taking it to school ‘cause he thinks I’m ‘irresponsible.’” She indicated the word with air quotes. “But I think it’s just because he knows I go to my mom’s after school and he doesn’t like the idea of me taking jack shit over there.”

“How are your parents, by the way? Still a pain?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. Nothing new. Getting real sick of my dad’s shit, though. God, what does he think I am? And how long does he have to stay pissed about Mom keeping his last name? He’s like a toddler.”

Anne bit her lip, unsure of what to say. The intercom beeped a triplet and started speaking.

Announcements. But they normally didn’t come for another forty minutes.

Rather than the usual announcements, however, the vice principal’s voice came, sounding a little sad. “All members of the chess club, please excuse yourselves from your first period and report to the media center.”

“Huh. Weird.” Sasha frowned. “Marcy’s not here today. I wonder what this is about? Isn’t she, like, the leader?”

Anne’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you think about being a few more minutes late?” she asked.

“Woah. Feeling a little daring today, aren’t we?” Sasha smirked.

“I just… I have a bad feeling about this,” she explained. Her throat began to grow dry as the worst came to her mind. She quickly dismissed it with a sigh.

Sasha laughed a little. “Alright, boss. I’ll come with you, since you were so kind to ask.”

“Sorry!”

Anne couldn’t find any more words as she briskly walked through the hallway, Sasha trailing behind her as she made her way to the media center. Her heartbeat quickened, but she decided there was no way it could be true. She didn’t even let her mind complete the thought, but at the same time, she was unable to entirely think about anything else. For what could have been the first time, Sasha was forced to keep up with her.

When they made it to the wooden double door, it was held open for them by a kid with indigo hair, a familiar member of the chess club about whom Marcy had discussed on several occasions, addressing them as her greatest rival (who had yet to beat her even once). The blue-haired kid, on the other hand, lacked respect for the captain and often talked about her behind her back in their soft, passive-aggressive mumbling.

When the two came to walk through the door and join the chess clubmates in the media center, the kid frowned. “Hey, you’re not in the-” Then, as if suddenly recognizing the girls, they stopped dead, as if reconsidering. “Oh. Anne and Sasha, is it?”

Anne nodded. She was slightly winded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s us.” She kept walking as Sasha stopped to curtly apologize to the kid.

They gazed at the two girls sadly as they entered the library and sat at the far table, hidden by computers although clearly listening in on the meeting.

The kid let the door fall shut and walked to join their friends at another table. The librarian, who had volunteered to chaperone the club, stood up from behind her own computer at the front desk and stepped before the members.

Anne craned her neck and waited in anticipation.

“Anne, woah, sit back. You’re stressing me out.”

She ignored this remark from Sasha, even feeling the slightest bit annoyed at it. She didn’t want to put up with this right now. This wasn’t about Sasha. God, why did she have to make everything about her? Then, she silently scolded herself for the thought. Still, she watched intently.

The librarian ran her fingers through her short hair and straightened her glasses. “Is everyone here? No absences?”

The blue-haired kid nodded. “Yep. This is everyone.”

“No, it’s not!” Anne shot up.

“So much for eavesdropping,” Sasha mumbled disappointedly.

“Can it,” Anne snapped at a very surprised Sasha in a sudden, unforeseen hostility. Then, she turned her attention back to the chess club. “Marcy’s not here. Can’t you move the meeting until she’s back?”

The librarian looked shocked, then solemn. “Um,” she mumbled, “she’s... not able to attend this meeting.”

“You have to wait. She's the captain, right? Wait until she comes back.” Tears burned in Anne’s eyes. “You can wait until tomorrow. She said she was just going to miss Monday. She’ll be back tomorrow.”

The small crowd erupted into whispers and murmurs of pity and curiosity. The blue-haired kid asked, “How doesn’t she know…?”

“Miss, she’s not going to be here tomorrow.”

“Bullshit!” Anne cried. Surely Marcy would have told her if she was going to be gone for more than a day, right? 

“Anne, sit down,” Sasha gently grabbed ahold of her arm. “You’re freaking out.”

Anne yanked her arm away and glared at Sasha. “Don’t fucking touch me.” She looked tearfully back to the librarian, praying to God it wasn’t true. Hoping more than anything that there had been some mistake. “Please. This club is so important to her. Please. You have to wait for Marcy.” She was even willing to accept that the club might have meant more than she did. “Please…”

The truth was, no one knew how to tell her, so they’d put it off onto the next person. Surely someone would break the news to her eventually, right?

 

“What do you mean she just left?” Mæ Boonchuy raised her voice into the phone. It was unbelievable! Her daughter may not have been a model student, but she would never just leave school. This kind of behavior was unheard of, except for when…

Wait.

There was only one reason Anne ever got herself in trouble. “She wasn’t skipping with that Sasha Waybright girl, was she?” Anne’s mother demanded.

“No, Ma’am.” The dean of students had called to make Anne’s family aware that their daughter had left the school. “In fact, that student is currently with me in my office. She’s the one who reported Anne’s departure.”

What? That didn’t make any sense. From what she’d heard in Anne and Marcy’s numerous recounts of their hangouts with Sasha, it was usually not the latter who would end up in the dean’s office as a mere witness. Something wasn’t quite right here…

Any hostile tone that Mæ had taken in regards to Sasha disappeared. “May I speak with her?”

The dean was silent for a moment, and as if this was an outlandish request, replied dumbly, “Uh…” Then, after what sounded to be brief exchange of whispers, he replied with, “Of course, Mrs. Boonchuy,” before handing off the phone.

“Hi, Mrs. Boonchuy. It’s me, Sasha.”

“What’s going on? Is Anne okay? How is she getting home? Did you drive her today? Is—?”

Just then, the sound of the deadbolt unlocking and the bottom of the door scraping along the doormat caught Mæ’s attention.

When she turned around to see her daughter standing silently in the doorway, eyes empty and sullenly staring at the ground, the anger and confusion began to fade from her expression.

Anne’s bicycle helmet, which hung lightly from her fingers, slowly slipped off and clattered to the ground.

Mæ was sensing that something was very, very wrong.

As if to answer every single question that Mæ Boonchuy had thrown at her at once, Sasha explained everything in two words: “It’s Marcy.”

---

The memory of that pivotal moment manifested itself in a sensation not unlike the way one feels when falling in a dream. Though her eyes had been open the whole time, Anne seemed to jolt awake at the memory. Her heartbeat quickened as she realized that she’d been staring out the window and daydreaming so long that everything in the car around her seemed to disappear, and for a moment, she had been numb to the light pressure of Marcy’s head on her shoulder.

Anne’s eyes widened and she snapped her head to look at Marcy, as if to ensure that she was still there, and that the daydream had been just that: a dream. She hadn’t spent the rest of that fateful day crying in her mother’s arms. She hadn’t refused to eat or go to school for days, sinking into a deep depression that almost put her in the red zone of failing out of high school. Her damn near deluded denial of what had happened to her best friend hadn’t made her irritable and prickly with anyone who so much as brought up the issue, and that definitely hadn’t resulted in her lashing out at her girlfriend, talking her down, opening the floodgates for years of repressed frustration and cutting her off for what she insisted to be the last time…

And if all of that had happened? Well, it didn’t matter now. Now that Marcy was back, and Sasha had decided to help her and pick up Anne, meaning that despite everything, she still cared about them… they could spend the summer together, just like they always did.

“Marcy?” Anne’s voice disturbing what could have been hours of dead silence invoked a reaction from both her companions. Even Sasha briefly met eyes with her in the rearview mirror.

Marcy adjusted her head slightly, so that her curiously wide, dark eyes met Anne’s. “Hm?”

My best friend. Anne moved her arm so she could drape it over Marcy’s shoulders after briefly petting her dark hair. “Nothing,” she mumbled simply. “I’m just… I’m just making sure you’re still here.”

Sasha tilted her head slightly, and all that Anne could see was the way she chewed on her lip, presumably to stop herself from saying anything.

Everything would be just like it had always been.

Notes:

sorry it’s been a while. i was playing omori