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Janis isn’t against Regina. Not anymore at least.
If she’s honest, she doesn’t think she has ever wanted to be against her. But she was an insufferable scum sucking life ruiner for the past four years, therefore, it was difficult not to be against her. And Janis was hurt, truly, deeply hurt as she had never been before and hopes to never be again. She doesn’t like to be the person who plans revenge parties and who becomes a mirror of everything bad in the people around her.
And besides, the bus was enough. More than just enough if she’s honest.
So she’s no longer against Regina, but she’s also not her friend. Caddy is, because Caddy likes to see the good in everyone around her and maybe she’s just feeling a little too guilty about everything. But Janis isn’t. She sees Regina around and has lunch at the same cafeteria table as she does, but they’re not friends. They’re cordial and nice with each other and it’s been working, for the past half-year at least. Just half-year more and she might never have to see her again outside Instagram posts and the eventual high school reunion.
Gretchen hands her a Santa hat and tells her, don’t spy, while looking at her with her big doe-like eyes. Janis is still weary about her, but she nods once, taking a paper that has been folded way too many times, and pretends to listen to the rules Gretchen recites about this year’s Secret Santa.
(Janis knows most of them already, has known them since middle school. She doesn’t need the reminder, thank you very much.)
She unfolds the paper when she’s alone, knowing that Gretchen would’ve spied just to know. If people believe that Regina is a control freak, it is because they’ve not met the full force of Gretchen Wiener’s need to know everything about everybody around her.
Regina George.
The name is carefully written, and she hates how perfectly it looks on the paper. With the twists, and the perfect symmetric length. Janis hates how everything around Regina must always be perfect. And she hates how she cannot come up with even a single idea on what to get her, on what could be a good gift for her.
It's not like Janis doesn't know her, no. Quite the opposite, she knows her too well, more than she wants to. She has carefully planned a whole plan to destroy her, knowing her best attributes and her worst flaws. You can’t do that to a person you don’t know.
She simply has no idea what gift to give her.
xx
It’s weird to Janis that one year ago she was plotting Regina’s downfall, and now she’s plotting to figure out what she might like for Christmas.
Because Janis knows she could buy her some shitty, low effort gift, and that their current, precarious acquaintances relationship is not going to suffer. But she really doesn’t want to be the worst gift giver of their friend group. It’s a pride thing, and Janis knows it’s probably a flaw of her character, but she cannot let it happen. So, obviously, the logical thing to do is to pay a little more attention, and wait for Regina to say that she needs something, anything.
(Janis doubts Regina really does, with being awfully rich and all. But maybe she can at least get an idea of something Regina doesn’t have, or something she would like to have. Or whatever means a decent gift in her eyes.)
She hates to look at her.
To really look at Regina, to stare at her blue eyes and perfectly manicured nails. To pay close attention to her blonde hair, to the clothes she’s wearing, to see the things she wants to show. It feels like, at any given moment, Regina might look at her, and say you’re still obsessed with me and Janis will have to admit that maybe, just maybe, there’s some truth in it.
She also notices how little Regina actually eats, how much she constantly moves the food from one side to the other. That's weird. When they were friends, at least, Janis remembers Regina as a fast eater, always done with her food so they can go back to play.
“Janis?” Cady asks, taking her out of her thoughts.
“Yes?” she answers, pretending that she has been totally hearing the talk they’ve been having.
“You still up for decorating gingerbread houses today after school?”
“Yeah, sure.”
She comes back to her sandwich, trying not to stare at Regina again.
She’ll find something, right? A gift cannot be that hard to find. And besides, not everyone will have a perfect gift. That’s simply not possible. And there’s really no reason why she should feel as nervous, not at all.
xx
Janis spends English lit thinking about past christmases.
She remembers being somewhat scared of the Grinch, that ugly, green face giving her nightmares. But Regina was obsessed with it, and always found it so funny. She had even dressed as Cindy Lou Who for Halloween one year.
Back when they were friends they would spend almost the whole winter break together. Making stupid Christmas choreographies and homemade cards, talking about what they hoped to get from Santa Claus. Janis’s mom would ask for their help to decorate cookies and Sabrina would take them ice skating.
Janis hates to admit that she has missed that. Missed her best friend.
That same longing feeling is the one she never wants to face. Because if she’s back, if she becomes the same girl who ate icing until her stomach hurt and sang Christmas songs since the first day of November, Janis's heart might not make it. She has mourned that friendship, mourned the person Regina used to be and might never become again. That not even a bus crash might bring her back. She has long ago decided to not go through the tedious, hurtful hope that one day they might be friends again.
(After all, Regina knows things about her that no one else does. And after all, the idea that their memories might not be tainted forever hurts more than anything else.)
xx
Janis is actually genuinely happy when winter break is around the corner.
It’s not fair to keep obsessing about Regina, to keep staring at her at every turn. Or at least, that’s what she keeps promising herself, it’s only about the gift. They agreed to do the gift exchange on Sunday which is a mere three days away. And despite the fact that she has not a single idea of what might be a half-decent gift, at least the end is near.
All she has learnt is how Regina always stands straight, probably out of the surgeries after the bus. How she sometimes holds things with too much strength, how she falls silent every now and then. And many other depressing facts that she tries to pretend are not there, tries to turn a blind eye to.
It worries her. It destroys her.
Her actions, the bus, what she did with those stupid Kalteen bars. That is all her fault. She should’ve known, should’ve stopped sooner. And now she can’t change it, she’ll never be able to change it. She hates that she let herself go, allowing herself to be blind with the idea of revenge.
(She’ll never understand why people claim that love is blind. That sucks.)
Janis doesn’t think she has any way of making things better, but she wishes she did. She wishes she could live in ignorance, pretending that Regina is just fine as she did a few weeks ago. But that isn’t fair, is it? She knows she didn’t cause it all, but the guilt is there, and she still caused some of it. Tried to put out fire with fire, which never works.
(She knows that now, when she’s been burnt too many times to count.)
xx
Regina invites them all to her house after the last day is over. A movie night, she explains.
They start with Love, Actually. They spread through the Georges’ big couch, Regina opting to sit by herself in a single couch. Gretchen practically sits on top of Karen, and Damian sits on the ground, to stay closer to the snacks. June brings them cookies and chocolate-covered pretzels, yet Regina eats none of them.
(And Janis knows, because she has been watching her. It’s going to be hard to let go of this habit.)
After the first movie, Damian suggests watching Home Alone but Gretchen insists on watching the Christmas Beauty and the Beast movie, and Karen wants to watch Elf.
“What about the Grinch?” Janis offers.
“Regina doesn’t like it,” Gretchen clarifies, as if despite it all, Regina’s veto matters more than anyone else’s.
Janis looks at Regina, just to find Regina staring back at her. She looks guilty, or whatever Janis recognizes as guilty. She used to love that movie, and maybe she doesn’t anymore. That’s fine by Janis. If Regina changed there’s nothing she can do about that.
(So why does she feel betrayed? Isn’t it a little too late for that?)
“I’ll be back, put whatever you want.” Regina practically jumps from the couch, gently throwing the remote at Gretchen.
“I’ll check on her,” Janis says.
xx
“Reggie, are you okay?” Janis wonders, quickly realizing the use of the nickname and regretting it.
That’s not who they are now.
They’re now maybe strangers with too much history. Maybe some wicked, twisted sort of frenemies. Janis is not sure, she hasn’t tried to put a word in too long. But they’re not the ones running after each other, worryingly knocking on the door, using a nickname and sweet words.
“Yes, don’t worry,” she promises.
“Can I come in?”
She hears a muffled sound through the door, before the lock opens.
Regina’s eyes are still half filled with tears, and Janis feels a pawn of guilt. She didn’t think she would find her crying, and somehow it feels too intimate. Too truthful. Something she’s not entitled to. A vulnerability that she has long forgotten existed, up until she took out the name from the santa hat. Regina sits back in bed, hugging a pillow.
“What’s going on?” Janis wonders.
“Nothing.”
“You didn’t eat any cookies, or pretzels.”
“I didn’t want any.”
Janis considers her options for a moment. She can pretend to believe what Regina is saying. She can offer a half hearted hug, or anything that doesn’t include much talking and go back downstairs.
“That’s not true,” she says instead.
“I’m just sad,” Regina admits, her eyes looking at the floor of her bedroom. “You know I wanted to do the stupid winter show? We tried, Cady and Gretch really tried. But my spine is just- it’s just fucked. So, I couldn’t do it. And I’m just sad all the time, because everything I used to do, I can’t anymore. Or I have to think twice or, God, I have a stupid disability parking spot. It’s embarrassing.”
“It’s not,” Janis answers immediately. “I’m sorry, about what we- what I did to you.” She knows she means it as soon as she says it. She’s been holding that for who knows how long, buried inside rage and fake justifications for her actions.
“I know you never tried to do that, the bus is not your fault.”
Janis decides against saying it feels like it or that’s not the only thing. This is not about making herself feel better, about trying to ease some of her own guilt. This is about helping Regina, who still has trails of tears on her face. So, instead of saying the million words she wants to say, the apologies that might come too late, she admits, “I’m on meds.”
“Hm?”
“For depression. And anxiety. I got them last year and it’s helping me a lot.”
“That’s good,” Regina says, carefully.
“I tried not to, really, but I need them. And I feel better.” She puts a hand on Regina’s arm, willing her to look at her. “What I’m trying to say is we all need help. I need meds. You need to adapt the way you do some activities. It’s not bad or wrong. And I understand feeling sad, I really do, but there’s going to be a way to make things easier, better.”
“I feel like I’ve brought this on myself. If I simply wasn’t such a bitch-”
“That’s not how it works.”
Regina nods once, as if drowning in Janis’s words. And Janis follows her instinct, wrapping her arms around Regina as she used to do.
She could swear that, for a single moment, Regina clings to her. Nails digging just a little on Janis’s back, as she feels her breathing under her hands. Janis does the logical thing, holding her closer, tighter, nearer to her. Holds firmly onto her for longer than is necessary, pretending not to feel a few of Regina’s tears on her shirt.
“Do you want to go back to our friends?” she wonders aloud after a moment.
(She wants her to say no. She wants Regina to ask her to stay. It’s frightening.)
“Yes, you’re right. We should.”
xx
The next morning, Janis wakes up at the ungodly hour of 8am.
It’s not that bad, she knows, but she’s not particularly a fan of waking up early. Breaks are her time of the year, when she stays up until way-too-late and wakes up later than what her mother would like her to. But in all honesty, she isn’t sure that would work out with the meds. But she was looking forward to at least 10am.
But no, because Damian wants to go shopping, to Chicago. Apparently there’s a store that has the latest face masks and lip glosses and he wants to go there, claiming that Karen probably has an entire Sephora and that he needs to be more original.
Damian drives them in his grandmother’s car, as they sing along to the worst Christmas songs ever heard by men. Which includes It’s Not Christmas Without You, from Victorious, which Janis feels a little ashamed about knowing entirely.
He’s quick to buy, having already thought it through, and just wanting Janis’s advice on a surface level to confirm what he already knows.
They walk around the city, Janis hoping to find something, anything that looks like Regina might like.
But instead, she finds her.
Her hair is tugged into a neat ponytail, and the scar on her neck is barely visible. She’s dressed in a pink puff sleeveless jacket and jeans, and she’s flipping through her phone as she’s looking for a location.
“Regina, hi!” Damian shouts before Janis can find her voice.
“Hey guys,” she says, giving them a small smile. “What are you doing here?”
“Last minute Secret Santa shopping,” he explains. “You?”
“Kylie asked for this toy, it’s, huh, a Single Super something Secret Shimmering Sketcher Smart or Smart Sketcher.”
Damian and Janis share a glance, then look back to Regina, “Sorry, can you repeat that?”
“No,” she says shortly. “Apparently it’s like the gift this year, so it’s almost sold out everywhere.”
“We can help you get it,” Damian offers.
“I mean, if you want to,” Regina shrugged looking at Janis. “I won’t mind if you don’t.”
“Don’t worry,” Janis says. “We’ll make sure to get that gift.”
They first go to the place Regina was looking for, which sadly was already out. Instead of searching online again, they decide to start walking around the city. Most of the places that show up on the Internet will, most likely, already be out of the toy if it’s that popular and all.
Janis remembers some of Regina’s toys. How fancy and new they were, how perfectly aligned the Barbie dolls were in her bedroom.
(She remembers making them kiss. She doesn’t particularly enjoy that memory, wishing it would’ve burn with the backpack and the stupid stuffie.)
She wonders if Kylie plays with dolls too, or if she’s too grown now. She has only seen her a handful of times for a few minutes ever since they rekindled their friendship or whatever they were doing, are doing, she’s not sure. It has apparently changed so much in such a short time, and now her feelings are all over the place.
And she still needs a gift.
Janis feels as maybe, everything this Secret Santa has helped to do is to see the things she didn’t want to. The fear of missing someone, the fear of finding that the person she used to call her best friend is gone forever. The uncertainty of her current feelings, the guilt over what has happened.
Learning that Regina is not the same, she’s not the one who would dress as Cindy Lou Who, who would ice skate and decorate cookies. But she’s also not the one who outed her, who made awful remarks and wrote horrible things in that stupid burn book. And yet, she’s still her, something inside, something in the person she is, hasn’t changed.
Yes, she’s still the one who broke her heart, but yes, she’s still the one she loved.
After a few more blocks, Janis hiding in Damian’s extroverted personality, enjoying the fact that she could stay quiet and just stare Regina, just watch how her hair falls, framing her face, the way her eyebrows furrow each time she’s in disagreement with something, her smile, she notices other things. How she starts touching her neck, how she stands a little straighter, a little taller, how her steps aren’t the same.
“Is your back hurting?” she asks, and she knows Regina will hate her for it. Hate her for asking it in front of Damian.
“It’s okay.”
“I want some coffee,” Damian announces. “Why don’t we get some before we continue?”
Regina looks at Janis, and despite how hateful it might look, there’s no fire under it. “Really, I’m okay, let’s keep going.”
“I also vote for coffee,” she says, and Regina grumbles a quick fine.
They settle for a coffee shop that Damian loves, just a block away. Janis tries not to stare at Regina, to not make her feel guilty of needing help or fight her on the fact that she needs to rest. Instead, her eyes fix on the stores around them, the decorations. Some of them are downright awful, too cheap or too badly assembled, but some look good. There’s a small shop with big candy canes and fake snow, and despite how unoriginal it is, it works.
And there, in between the candy canes, there’s the box that they’ve been looking for.
“I’ll be back in a second, guys,” Janis says once they’ve passed it, as she doesn’t want them to follow her, no.
She wants to surprise Regina.
xx
As soon as she gets home, Janis takes out her crochet hook.
A night to make a gift is probably not enough, but if she gets enough caffeine she should be okay. There’s something calming, grounding in counting the stitches, doing the loops, carefully changing between yarns. She tries not to overthink it, to follow her instinct. If she knows something now, it is that she knows Regina.
She has changed, yes. But she knows her. She knows the good, the before, the current. And the bad, the in-between.
And she loves her, acknowledging that is liberating. Despite it all, the heartbreak, and tears, and the years apart. She can’t help it but love her. After the fires, and buses, and revenge parties. Janis is almost sure she’ll love her even if she leaves. If she goes to a college that is too far away, if they stop talking, if they never become friends again, she’ll turn back, look for Regina in her memories and find that kind of strange love she can’t get out of.
xx
She feels self-conscious about the gift. But it’s whatever, it’s not as if she has time to change that now. Besides, she knows Regina will love the one that’s hidden inside her backpack.
Gretchen decides to go first, handing Damian a book box set of Simon and the Homosapiens Agenda. Next, Damian gives his gift to Karen, who didn’t know half of the things and promises that she’s excited to try them all and send her reviews to him. Karen hands Cady a special notebook for organic chemistry and some glitter pens (because you can never have enough, duh!).
Janis inspects Regina’s face as soon as she drops the pink bag in her hands.
She seems hesitant at first, before carefully unwrapping it. Regina smiles, holding it back to take a good look at it, before holding it closer, feeling the fabric and smiling at Janis. She doesn’t try the sweater on, but keeps it between her hands, in her lap. She looks genuine, a happiness Janis knows.
(She feels as if her heart might explode.
She hates and loves that Regina still does that to her.)
“I love it, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
xx
She waits until everyone else is gone to tell her.
They hang in the living room for a bit, watching The Grinch, which Janis still despises, thank you very much. Regina was the one who brought it up, so she couldn’t say no to her. And she really, truly, didn’t want to ruin an almost perfect evening with uncomfortable questions about what happened the other day. At least they have hot chocolate and a batch of keto cookies Sabrina left out for them.
“Reggie?”
“If you want to talk pause first,” she instructs. “I don’t wanna miss any of this.”
“You already know it!”
“Shut up, wait.” She sketches towards the remote, pausing the movie, and turns her attention back to Janis. “What were you saying?”
“I have another gift,” Janis explains. She picks up her backpack and pulls out the toy. “I got it while we got coffee.”
“Janis!” Regina says, quickly slapping her arm. “You’re such an asshole. I was so worried about not getting it.”
“I know. I wanted to surprise you.”
“This is the best surprise, thank you.”
Regina is quick to envelope in a hug, and suddenly, they’re close. Too close. Their faces are just barely inches apart.
Janis tries to take a step back, but Regina quickly takes one of her wrists, keeping her in place. She looks up to her, and her blue eyes, and the way she has her tongue poking out of her lips, as she always does when she’s deep in thought.
(Janis might know all about Regina. And yes, maybe she’s a bit obsessed about her. Can anyone blame her?)
“Don’t leave,” Regina asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I won’t.”
She kisses her carefully, first with a certain nervousness, but quickly letting go. She tries not to put too much strain on Regina’s neck, instead trying to give her a comfortable angle. Regina tastes like chocolate, and Janis doesn’t want the kiss to stop. She doesn’t think Regina used to be this good of a kisser, no, but she is now, and she’s trying to keep up.
“Merry Christmas, Jay.”
“Merry Christmas, Reggie.”