Chapter Text
Natalie Scatorccio doesn’t believe in love.
She’d see a couple and make her bets on when their breakup would be. She was set on the fact that love wasn’t real, and that it was just a feeling made up so people would feel better about themselves.
With that being said, she didn’t do relationships. That’s not to say she didn’t participate in intimate situations, for example, a hot guy at a party, it didn’t hurt her to make out with him. There was fuck else to do at parties anyway. It meant nothing to her. They were simply just a pair of warm lips, and she made sure to tell them that beforehand.
A few of them still fell in love. They tried to talk to her every chance they got, and wished upon stars that she would kiss them, even if it was just once more. Clearly not all wishes come true, as she would barely bat an eye at them.
There was the few popular, stereotypical jock type boys she messed around with. They would either pretend she didn’t exist, or join in with their friends in what seemed to be their favorite activity - giving her nasty looks. Sometimes she would simply look them in the eye and laugh, watching as their faces lost their color merely at the thought of anybody knowing that they had kissed the burnout.
Lottie Matthews never really did relationships either, but she had definitely fallen in love before. Just on her own. A few stupid crushes that got a little out of hand. Actually, only one crush that had got a little out of hand.
And who would it be but Nat? Wiskayok High’s greatest outcast, stoner, and loser who had rumors being spread about her every other day. Lottie didn’t know why she fell for her, they were nothing alike. Lottie was rich and popular. Nat lived in a trailer and had at most three friends who weren’t from the team.
Yet, it was like Lottie was a magnet and Natalie was metal, always finding herself attracting to her and trying to figure out more and more about her. It felt natural. Lottie knew that there was a lot about people that you couldn’t tell from the surface, and there was only one thing on her mind that month - getting to know Natalie Scatorccio.
She didn’t believe in the shit you read in the books. Opposites attract, enemies to lovers. She thought it was stupid. None of that would ever happen in real life. Yet, she still had a pile of romance books in her room, and here she was, eyeing Nat from across the cafeteria.
“Yo, Nat. Little miss perfect is staring at you.”
Nat looks up from the tray of lunch food in front of her - a chicken patty that was, for some reason, an odd shade of green. To no surprise, there was Lottie, looking right at her with a pokerface. This was a common occurrence. Sometimes it happened in lunch, sometimes it happened in lab, sometimes it happened at practices or games. Nat never really cared or thought much of it.
“So?” She deadpans, a blasé look on her face.
Kevyn raises a brow. “So? She’s been doing this for weeks. You’re not gonna talk to her?”
Nat looks at him like he’s brainless. “Why would I talk to her? She’s probably just talking to her snobby popular friends about me.”
“And you’re not gonna stand up for yourself?”
That question makes her body tense up, and she immediately shoots her eyes down at the floor. She opens her mouth to speak, but it’s like somethings holding onto her tongue and pulling it back each time. She shakes her head.
Kevyn gives her a weird look, then shrugs, and places his attention back on the obscure looking chicken patty in front of him, giving it a quick whiff before devouring it in two bites, which results in a gag from Nat.
“Charlotte?”
Hearing her full name being said makes her feel weird. Nobody on the team ever called her that. Only the people sat around the table where she ate her salad would dare to call her that. Once every full moon her parents would mutter it, if they ever paid enough attention to her. Even then, they usually stuck to Lottie.
“Yeah?”
“You gonna come to Jeff’s party?”
Jeff Sadecki threw a party every few times each month. His parents went away on work a lot and each time they offered him to come along, he would decline and throw a party instead. Which was probably why he was so well liked around the school. Lottie couldn’t see any other reason why people would like him. That much, at least.
Still, she had nothing better to do. So she nodded and picked her fork at her salad.
For a second, her and Nat locked eyes across the crowded cafeteria, and foolishly, Lottie gave her a smile, to which was not returned.
—
“Lottie!”
She was running down the turf, her eyes glued to the ball, moving her away around the opposing team, getting closer and closer to the goal. She was running so much her lungs started to hurt, and all she could hear was the sound of several of her teammates yelling her name. Nat is throwing her hands up, trying to catch her attention. Though it would have been easier to pass the ball to Taissa, she lunged forward, passing the ball through the other teammates legs and over to Nat.
Once she finally was without the ball, her hands immediately fell to her knees, breathing as fast as the wind. As she looks up, all she sees is Nat, kicking the ball right into the goal.
The whistle blows and the sound of cheering fills the field, and Lottie is so exhausted she feels like she’s about to fall and pass out. Hands on her head, she smiles, and next thing she knows, she’s on the floor with Nat’s arms around her.
The wind is knocked right out of her when Nat hugs her, but she doesn’t care. For once, she really felt truly happy. And nothing was going to bring that down. Not her parents, not her so called friends that could not give a shit about her, not the fact that she was sweating so much her hair felt as damp as it would after a shower. Nothing.
“Good job Lot!” Van smiles as she runs up, jumping on Taissa’s back. “Great goal, Nat.”
“Thank you,” they both say on time, smiles shining on their faces.
Back in the locker room, everybody is celebrating the win as Shoop by Salt-N-Pepa plays throughout the room. All of the girls are dancing and having fun, except for one of them. Lottie was sat on the bench, staring at the floor looking lifeless. It didn’t take Nat very long to notice her.
Nat was the usually the somber one of the team, but even she was celebrating this win. With Lottie playing a big role in the game winning goal, Nat couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of her being sad at a time like that.
She shoved her face into her locker, attempting to resist the urge of asking her if she was alright. It didn’t work.
“Hey, Lottie?” She asks after a beat of hesitation.
Nat’s hair is damp from sweating, her voice deep and raspy as she speaks. Her knees are bright red from falling onto the turf, a small cut opened on one of them. Lottie transitions her attention to the girls face, her cheeks bright red as she looks at Lottie with a smile on her face that felt oddly reassuring, like she knew Lottie so well enough to know something was up with her. Of course, that wasn’t true, she was just being nice. But for a split second, it felt nice to drift away from reality and imagine that was really how her life was.
“Lottie? You okay?”
She doesn’t know why she says it. In fact, once she processes what she’s said, she wants to throw her hand over her mouth and smack herself on the side of the head, but that would just make her look even stupider. It made no sense. A simple attempt to get to know Nat better - in the stupidest way ever.
“Can you help me cook Italian food?”
Nat looks at her, confused, but manages to form a smile on her face. Lottie Matthews, rich girl Lottie Matthews, was asking her to cook Italian food? She couldn’t help but laugh.
Yet, there was only one word that fell off her lips.
“Sure.”
“Great. That’s great, uh, thank you.” Lottie smiles, waving her goodbye before storming out of the locker room, almost eating shit on the way out. Nat watches with a sheepish smile, scoffing and following her out.
—
“Wait.. she asked you what?”
Nat shakes her head, holding the cigarette up to her mouth. Her room reeked, and it would definitely make her dad mad, but at least she wouldn’t be there to see it this time. Kevyn was sat on the floor, holding a glass bottle of beer up to his mouth. He was laughing so hard he had to clutch his stomach.
“It’s not that funny,” Nat argued, stealing the bottle from his hands. “I just don’t understand why she asked me. God, I mean, I’m nothing like her. She’s the complete opposite of me. She should fucking hate me.”
Kevyn responds with more laughing.
“Nice one, assface.”
“I’m sorry,” he laughs, knowing deep down that he wasn’t. “I just can’t imagine that happening.”
“Well, it happened!” She practically snaps, dropping the glass bottle on the bed. Kevyn gives her a judgement filled look, taking a drag of his cigarette.
“I’m sorry,” she sighs, throwing her palm to her face. “I don’t know why I’m so stressed about it. I guess I just.. really wanna please her.”
“Please her?” Kevyn chokes on a laugh. “What is happening to you?”
“I don’t know,” she dryly laughs, downing the last of the bottle. Kevyn walks over to the window of Nat’s small room in her trailer, poking his head out. “When is this little bake off anyways?”
Nat sits up so fast she feels sick.
“What?”
“Fuck. Fuck!”
She staggers to her feet, tumbling into the wall. “It’s now!”
She feels a wave of immediate stress splash over her, heart dropping down to her stomach. Kevyn furrows his brows, practically being pushed out the way when Nat starts to turn her room inside out in hopes of finding clothes that at least look clean.
“You’re going looking like that?”
Nat glares, letting her eyes roll back into her head. “Don’t you think I’m already stressed enough?”
“Don’t you think Lottie Matthews is gonna have something to say about it?”
For a moment, she freezes. God, Kevyn could be such an asshole, but usually, it was just because he was realistic. Now not only did Nat have to worry about being late, but also about looking and smelling like her father.
“It’s nothing to freak out about,” Kevyn shrugs, “why does it matter what Lottie thinks?”
Usually it wouldn’t matter what Lottie thinks. Why would she be any different than a regular, snobby rich girl who judged people who weren’t just like her?
But something seemed different about Lottie. The way she smiled at everybody she saw, or how she would always have a pencil ready incase somebody needed to borrow one. Unlike all the other popular girls, Lottie didn’t act like she was better than everybody else. She kept to herself and always made sure to show somebody her smile - a smile that could easily make somebody feel better about themselves.
So who else would it pain Nat to disappoint besides Lottie fucking Matthews?
“Can you give me a ride?” She sighs, throwing a somewhat clean looking Nirvana shirt over her head. Kevyn squints his eyes. “..Sure.”
—
She showed up at Lottie’s door when the sun had already set and the moon was starting to rise. Briefly at around 10:30, a half hour from the planned time. Lottie forgave her. Of course she did. And somehow, it managed to make her feel even worse about it.
Her hair was half-up half-down, sporting a pink sweater with jean shorts. She looked tired, yet a huge smile still creeps across her face as she opens the door for Nat. She had been standing behind the door, awkwardly waiting for Nat to show up so she could open it before she even knocked.
What a loser.
Lottie’s house was just as Nat expected it to be - prodigious and clean. It was nice, way better than any place Nat spent most of her time, anyways. The inside only showed even more of its worth, an expensive wool carpet being the first thing that catches Nat’s attention when Lottie opens the door.
She knew Lottie was rich, but holy shit.
“I’m really glad you came.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” Nat smiles, hands in her jacket. “Sorry again for being late.”
Their eyes met, Lottie holding Nat’s gaze. Her eyes were puffy and red. Lottie cocked her head at the sight.
“Were you crying?”
Nat gives her a look. Lottie makes a hand motion to her eyes, raising a brow.
“Oh. Um.. no.”
Lottie felt a twinge in her stomach. Part of her believes Nat and the other part doesn’t. It’s obvious that it’s not something Nat wants to talk about, considering the flush of red that filled her cheeks after Lottie spoke, so she changed the subject.
“Do you have a recipe?” She asks, that one familiar, bright smile on her face.
Nat’s stomach drops again. Thing is, Nat can’t cook for shit. She tried to make scrambled eggs once and lit the pan on fire. The most she’s ever cooked is a toaster waffle. No part of her knew how to cook actual food, Italian food at that.
“No. I, uh.. didn’t know what you wanted to make.” She covers, moving her face muscle to form a believable smile.
Lottie grins. Sometimes, when she smiled super big, you could see her sharp canines. Lottie hated the fact you could see them, but honestly, Nat thought they were nice.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Lottie laughs, her cheeks getting red. “No, seriously. What?”
She’s biting her lip so hard in hopes of holding back a puddle of laughter from falling out of her mouth. Nat tries to give her a serious look in bare hopes of Lottie spitting out just what was making her laugh so fucking hard, but she can’t. The way Lottie’s cheeks were inflating with air as she tried harder and harder to keep a laugh from falling off her lips, along with the fact that she looked as red as a tomato were enough to let Nat snort a laugh. Lottie’s followed soon after. She had closed her eyes and craned her hand up to her face, and at this point, she doesn’t even remember what was so funny in the first place.
“Well? What?”
“Do you even know how to cook?”
Nat hesitates. “Well.. no, but-”
She’s cut off by another boom of Lottie’s laughter.
“Oh, shut up! Let’s not forget that you’re the one that asked me to make it with you in the first place. Why’s that?”
Lottie freezes, an embarrassed groan falling off her lips, to which Nat responds with a snort.
“Plus, how hard can it be to make some simple shit like.. I don’t know, pizza?”
“You wanna make pizza?”
“I mean, it’s your house, your ingredients, and this was your idea, so it’s up to you. But you did ask me to help you, and I think pizza is a pretty big step for a failed chef.”
Lottie smiles at her, and for a second, Nat believes that maybe there is good in some people. At least, there definitely is in Lottie Matthews.
—
Somewhere in the middle of making the pizza, the two of them had stopped and laid on Lottie’s couch, staring at the ceiling. They had flour covering their faces and hands, and Lottie swears she’s never been this tired before, not even after soccer practice.
“Who’s the pizza for?” Nat asks, breaking a wall in the silence. “What?”
“Well, it has to be for somebody, right? Why else would you want to make it?”
A beat. “It’s not for anybody.”
“Then why did you need help?”
“I just.. wanted to learn how to cook Italian dishes?”
“So why’d you ask me?”
“You’re the only Italian I know,” she shrugs. “I wasn’t very keen on the fact that you can’t cook for shit.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Nat dryly laughs, kicking Lottie from across the couch. She smiles.
“You know, you’re not like the others.”
Lottie gives Nat a look from the corner of her eye. “What do you mean?”
“All the other popular rich kids. You’re different.”
“Is that a good thing?” Lottie asks, despite knowing the answer.
“Well, yeah. You’re not obsessed with yourself.”
Lottie laughs, because honestly, she’s the complete opposite of that. “Is that all?”
“No. You’re nice. You’re just way different than I expected you to be, I guess.”
There’s a moment of silence before Lottie sits up and moves closer to Nat. “You’re not like the rumors yourself.”
“I’m not too sure about that.”
Lottie grins as she stands up. “Well, I think you’re cool.”
She extends her arms out to Nat, who accepts and lets Lottie pull her off the couch. It just now hits Nat that this is the most she’s smiled in a while, which feels kind of weird, considering she’d never really imagined herself spending the night at Lottie Matthews house and laughing every five seconds. But here she was - and for once, Nat believed that it wasn’t a waste of time to get to know people she never thought she would’ve got along with.