Chapter Text
The quiet hum of the engine fills the silence between them. His hand rests possessively on her knee, rubbing in a repetitive motion, slightly further up with each incline. Despite the clear sky, a biting icy chill chases the movement. A chasm carved into her chest that if she didn't know better could be described as dread. Except, she does know better, knows that girlfriends are supposed to cherish their boyfriend's touch, so she does. It's refreshing, ice on a hot day like this. The swoop in her stomach is what everyone calls butterflies, the goosebumps are from want, the nausea is from girlish nerves. She wants this. This is what love is, just like the love her parents have. This is what she's always wanted. When her eyes flitter to Jeff's face, she sees their future before them, high school sweethearts married with a kid or two. Her teeth clench into a grin at the thought, it's a smile she swears, chest rising and falling rapidly, heart thumping like… a girl in a romcom.
"I just remembered, mom wants to take me shopping out of town. You mind dropping me off at the bus station," she bursts out, sudden yet casual. It's not true. It's a horrible lie anyway, Shauna would've caught it immediately, as if Mom would want her on a bus, as if Mom wouldn't make a whole god damn day of pageantry out of shopping and picking just the right outfit to squeeze her into. She isn't sure why she says it, what possesses her. Something that feels primal, like a cornered animal, maybe it's what want feels like. Is this what want is; this malevolent thing, this crushing wave, this curse, this fear? If it is, she really did need to leave. Keep her virginity intact. Jeff smiles at her easily, buying it somehow, "Sure."
Jeff course-corrects, slowing to a smooth stop. She kisses his cheek, chastely. Jackie flings the door open, running to catch up with the leaving bus, without a clue where it's headed. Luckily, it's not a long ride, before she's hopping off, in a completely different town. Well, okay, it doesn't look that different. But, no one knows Jackie Taylor here and that's… Something.
She wonders if Seattle will be that different world, what it'll be like out there, with only the Yellowjackets knowing her name. Would it be rainy? It's been a while since she's felt the rain, would the droplets beat down on her, wash away a layer? Would there be something underneath it all? Or is her dull head empty as a doll's? Jackie blinks, unsettled by the line of thought, instead thinking of sleek buildings and malls. Maybe, in between practices, they could go shopping, all the Yellowjackets or maybe, maybe just her and Shauna… She imagines looking through the racks, hunting for what would look best on her best friend, which top would frame her boobs just right and which bottoms would accentuate her ass. Imagines entering the changing rooms together, watching Shauna pull off her clothes, left only in her underwear. Or even, even Jackie pulling them off for her, maybe if she hurt her shoulder or something and needed her best friend's help, taking off her clothes, taking her apart, then dressing her up just for… Randy. Yeah, for Randy. Shauna and Randy, they would make a good couple. They could all go on double dates.
Jackie could stare at her, from the other side of the table, run her foot up Shauna's leg. When it gets cold, because, because Shauna hated the cold and she was her best friend, so of course she would help her out. Then, they could order milkshakes, two straws like every movie date. But Jeff didn't like strawberry like she did, so she would share with Shauna, that's just logic. Both of them would lean in close, faces a breath away, lips puckered… There's a flash, where she imagines it without the milkshake or straws between them, both leaning in. But then, then why would they be leaning in without the milkshake? Without that excu--reason? It's a daydream that leaves her blood thrumming with something wet and hot, breath short. Jackie swallows it down, uncomfortably pressing her thighs together.
She doesn't really understand that feeling she gets sometimes, when she thinks about Shauna naked and stuff. It's like she's in another world, floating like a pack of wild balloons. So, Jackie breathes in deeply, finding her breathing a little ragged as she tries to return back to reality. Even as the street comes back into focus, heat continues to prick at her skin. She begins walking, hoping the air would cool her down and snuff out the strange sensation. It doesn't, neither does stepping into the artificial air con of a nearby shop. There's just this hunger that can't be satiated, even though she ate all her lunch this time. Her eyes drink in the glossy pictures, women posing half-naked, greedily.
It's as if she's a girl possessed. Like lights in a horror movie, her gaze flickers, over to the men's section, usually a splash of cold water. Instead, her fingers twitch by her side, her legs lock and begin a lurching zombie march. As the sea of fabric grows closer, her hand reaches out in a flash, groping at the chest of a collared shirt. It almost looks like she was touching… Jackie's face flushes, pulling away as if burned. Yet, her feet are rooted in place, refusing to leave the unconquered terrain of the men's section. There's something wrong with her, something that feels both divine and sinful, completely all-consuming, greedy. A wolf with a rabbit in its maw, refusing to let go, hungry and greedy. But that's not the kind of girl Jackie is, is it? It can't be. She tries to move her feet, to get away, but she's trapped in it like quicksand, pulled deeper and deeper into it. Stuck in this sickness.
One moment she's wanting to get away, paralyzed with fear. Then, Jackie blinks and she's walking out the door, with two bags full of men's clothes. In a state of panic, she walks into the nearest boutique, paying for an oversized nice, sparkly pink bag to shove it all into. God knows what her mother would say if she saw the thrift store bag, how much worse she'd say if she actually looked inside. Jackie wouldn't even have a defense for it, had nothing to explain why she'd done it. Maybe, the answer to what was behind it all, what she would find in Seattle was just pure insanity. Jackie had really been hoping to be a functional person, but she didn't fucking feel like one.
Her trip home passes in a shaky, guilty blur, chest tight, white-knuckling the bag, praying her Mom wouldn't look inside and anxiously turning over the possibility that she did.
Jackie's feet thunders up the stairs, averting her eyes from the pictures of herself. Her, at six earing a princess tiara. Her, at ten smiling with her parents in an artificial studio. Her, at fourteen wearing a prom dress, Jeff's hands around her. She can feel her under her skin and stalking behind her, all around her, this lingering long shadow. Would that girl be disappointed in her now? That beautiful girl, who everyone adored. Bones snapping sickeningly out of place, as she begins outgrowing her. Swallowing back bile, she rushes into her bedroom, shoving the pink bag into the closet.
(That night, Jackie sleeps uneasily, startling awake surrounded by darkness and filled with prickling dread. She doesn't remember anything, except the cold.)
Mondays always suck. Yeah, yeah very Garfield. But they do, not just because it's the first day back at school after the weekend, but because Jackie and Shauna's schedules don't line up, like, at all. They're in none of the same classes and don't even share study hall, so they barely see each other all day. This Monday particularly sucks because not only had Jackie not seen Shauna in three whole hours, but also, she's got a killer hang-over from Randy's party last night. It hadn't even been that great of a party, she couldn't get Shauna to come because she was studying for her history final.
The point is, she has every reason to be in a bad mood and seeing some random guy waiting by her locker like a creep didn't life her spirits in the slightest. "Still with Jeff," Jackie snaps, barely giving him a glance as she opens her locker. "Uh, no, I'm not… I just wanted to ask you about Shauna, cause you're, like, her best friend," the guy replies, raising his hands in surrender. This does make her pause and plummets her already miserable mood. Her eyes flicker, taking him in, she thinks she recognises him from class, Peter or Simon or something. Definitely something Christian (which Deb Shipman would so not approve of, she thinks). He has swoopy dark hair, brown eyes and he's wearing a fucking cardigan. There's an air of intelligence about him, or smugness if she was being uncharitable, which she was, he looked like the kind of guy who read poetry in his spare time. In other words, he was the exact kind of guy Shauna talked about wanting to meet someday. Jackie immediately hates him. Her eyes cutting and cold, a mirror of her mother's as she weighs him up, dissects him like a pound of meat.
Owlish eyes stare at her, waiting for an answer. Expectant, like she was his fucking maid and owed him an answer. God, that's probably what he thought of all women, what he'd think of Shauna. What a jerk. "What about her?" Jackie asks, because she's feeling petty. He raises an eyebrow at her, because of course he does. Asshole. Leaning against a nearby locker, he stuffs his hands in his pocket, trying way too hard to look cool. "I mean, is she like… Single?" Right, because that's all he cared about. Shauna's love life, her body, her tits, her ass. He didn't pay a single thought to her quick mind, the fire for her passion, how she weaved words together on a page, her soul, her favourite book (The Yellow Wallpaper), anything. No one could begin to understand Shauna the way she did, after all, they'd been joined at the hip since the Shipmans moved to Wiskayok at four.
Shauna was hers, every part of her life was hers, every discovery, her parent's divorce, her tears, her first period, it was Jackie's too. The idea anyone would know Shauna like Jackie did was laughable, smug, offensive, wrong. It just wasn't possible, it couldn't be. Who was this boy to encroach?
Jackie shrugs, noncommittally. "I mean… Officially. But between you and me, she kind of has this thing with Randy. Like, they're not officially dating… Yet. But you know how it is, it's only a matter of time before they're dating-dating. Only a total skeeze would ask her on a date with how things are between them," she replies forcing casualness into her tone to keep her anger at bay, giving him a pointed look. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. "Oh okay… Yeah, thanks," he mutters sadly, before slinking off. Good fucking riddance.
"Wow, I didn't know things with Shauna and Randy were serious, like… At all," a smug, annoying voice floats over from a few lockers away. Rolling her eyes, Jackie gives Taissa a familiar, irritated look. Though, she finds her chest growing tight, like she'd been caught doing something wrong. But it's just her looking out for her best friend, right? Shauna deserves better, the best, a guy who actually cares about her almost as much as Jackie does. Someone safe and easy, devoted, like Jeff. Randy was on that level, he came along all the time anyway, he fit into the group neatly just like Jeff did, right beside Jackie and Shauna. "I didn't know it was your business," Jackie retorts, huffing.
Taissa just smirks, shrugging. Pushing her locker shut, she saunters over slowly, like she's some supervillain or something. "No, but it is Shauna's," she warns, a threat weaving through her words. Jackie's grip tightens on the locker handle. God, ever since she'd gotten Captain instead of Taissa, she'd been such a bitch. It's not like she even cared about Shauna, sure, maybe they studied together and whispered about who knows what but Shauna was Jackie's best friend. "I'm doing what's best for Shauna," Jackie argues back, immediately, instinctively.
It was true, even as Taissa raised a lofty, disbelieving eyebrow at her. She just didn't get it. Who had spent nights upon nights staying up all night talking with Shauna? Who held Shauna's hand when her dad left and wiped her tears away? Who had put in the effort of knowing Shauna entirely and completely, enough to be considered an expert on her? Jackie, that was who. Certainly not Taissa. "That's up to her to decide, isn't it? It's her life," she retorted. Jackie could not help but fundamentally disagree. It was their life, hers and Shauna's, Taissa had nothing to do with it. It was probably why she was sticking her head where it didn't belong, jealous of how close they were, how completely intertwined their lives were.
Jackie bet a stuck-up girl like Taissa, acting so much better than she was, didn't have a friend or anyone at all in her life like that. (One night after a game, the Taylor family had been walking back to their car, mother turning with a judgemental eye to Taissa, then back to Jackie to tut, "See, this is why you shouldn't be playing soccer, you shouldn't have to share a field with girls like that. Did you see the way she wiped out that poor girl? So aggressive…") Girls don't make friends by being aggressive. A laugh rumbled through her bones, brittle and bitter. Something violent and animal stirring up in her. "I know what's best for Shauna. You wouldn't get it… Would you? You've never had a friend like that, had anyone like that, but I do," Jackie snaps, coldly. With those last words, she storms off, not bothering to give Taissa another look.
She didn't matter. ("You don't matter anymore," something echoed in her head, distorted and wrong. Jackie brushes it off. It isn't real, it couldn't be.)
Her back presses against the leather, eyes trained on Shauna, Shauna, Shauna. Shauna, her brown eyes staring off lost, untethered, unanchored, alone, Shauna's spine curling in on itself, Shauna at eight, so tiny, clinging to Jackie like a lifeline, like she was the only one who could save her. Shauna, the one thing she knew, inside out, back to front, thoroughly. Fear clung to flannel, to the stooped arch of shoulders that she knew every bone of intimately. "Hey…" Jackie begins, her words echoing, head pounding. Shauna startles, wide eyes cutting to her, swimming with uncertainty, waiting to be made whole. "Are you okay?" she asks, leaning in, hands itching to stitch her back together.
"Yeah," Shauna mutters. But she didn't mean it. Jackie knows it, she knows her. Even better than Shauna knows herself, she thinks, flashing briefly to that forgettable boy with cardigans and poetry. She knows what's best for her. "Remember when you came to Hilton Head with us in second grade, and you cried the whole flight?" Jackie continues, as she pulls up her bag, putting on the perfect inflection to pull out a shaky laugh from Shauna, being exactly who Shauna needed her to be. Pulling off the tissue, she reveals…
"Here. Swiped these from my mom's medicine cabinet. Valium. She's got, like, a never-ending supply, so I doubt she'll even notice."
A beat as she hands it off. Waiting to pull that pretty, brief little smile from Shauna. "I know, I'm basically the best." Fingers fly to her necklace, unclasping it. A constant flurry of movement for Shauna, to let those fears fade away like Valium on their tongues. "And here, it's a good luck charm." Of course, they were so tethered, that Shauna immediately moved to open her hand. Satisfied, she watches Shauna clasp it onto herself, something possessive boiling in her gut. "Now nothing can touch you." No matter what, Jackie would protect her. Nothing would get to her best friend. Shauna was hers alone. Blue eyes trained on her, watching her lean back against the same leather, head tilting to the side, nuzzling into its warmth. A poor substitute for warmth of a bed, nuzzled close, limbs tangled until they became one.
She makes the fatal mistake of blinking, a lonely diner and a lonelier woman flashing behind her eyes. For a horrible moment, she's there, waiting for the woman's eyes to open, to see her. Her ears ring, her body feels wrong, everything is wrong.
Jackie's eyes flicker open and all is right. The light is warm, chatter surrounds her and most importantly, Shauna closes her eyes, soaking in the peace she'd given her. A blanket of fuzziness sets in, as she intertwines their hands. A smile pulls at her lips, everything is perfect. She drifts off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
Then, then… She wakes up and… It's chaos, it's screaming, it's Hell, everything is wrong. Shauna. Shauna, Shauna, Shauna.
Fingers grip her flannel, shaking her wildly, urgently crying like a prayer, "Shauna. Shauna, get the fuck up!"
Until she's awake, until she's safe. She had to be. With all her might, she pulls Shauna into her arms, pulling her up, leading her to safety. Shauna had to be safe, she had to be.
"Help! Help. Help me, help me, help me."
"It's Van. We have to help her."
No, they didn't. They couldn't. Shauna came first, Shauna always came first.
"I'm stuck! I can't breathe!"
"I'm coming Van!"
No, no. She couldn't. Shauna had to be safe, she had to be.
"Help me! Help me! Help me!"
No.
"I'm coming. Come on."
No. Shauna couldn't, she couldn't.
"Oh god. It's stuck! I can't get out! Can't get out."
Shauna had to. Fire. Shauna couldn't. "Hurry up!"
"Oh my God!"
This was too… No. Shauna couldn't. "Shauna we got to go, we've got to go." With all her might, she wrapped her into her arms, tugging her away. "Shauna, we have to go! Shauna!" Then, then they were out. Shauna was out, Shauna was safe. That's the only thought in her mind, as they tumble out the plane, ears ringing, heart galloping. As they…
As Jackie wakes up, gasping for breath. In her bed. Shoop blaring. As if nothing had happened. It hadn't. It couldn't.