A Running Start

by taweretsdagger

Summary:

Compilation of my LOST Valentine's 2025 series into a single work <3

Chapter 1: Just Go Talk To Her

Summary:

Kate introduces herself to the new girl in school.

As was their usual routine, Jack spread the excess contents of his lunchbox across the cafeteria table while Kate and James made bids on which items they wanted. Paula—the Shephard family’s housekeeper—had outdone herself. Two big sandwiches on hoagie-style bread, three different kinds of chips, and a tupperware full of the little sugar cookies she always made, much sweeter and softer than the ones at the bakery downtown. In honor of the season they were shaped like hearts, with a healthy spread of pink frosting on top.

Unbeknownst to Kate and James, Jack had been requesting bigger and bigger portions over the last few weeks. To Paula he spun a story about a growth spurt. Working in some facts about how energy consumption changed during puberty, that he remembered from the mildly traumatic day earlier that school year when the whole fifth-grade class had had to watch a video on the miracle of life.

Paula complied with a nod and a smile, choosing not to let Jack know she saw through his ruse clear as day. She’d been working for the family long enough to be aware of his ever-bleeding heart, and had clocked the way Christian’s nostrils flared whenever one or both of Jack’s new friends sat on the “good” furniture, as if the trailer park where they lived was going to rub off on the couches’ supple maroon leather.

James shoved aside the sad, squished peanut butter and jelly he’d unearthed from his back pocket in favor of one of the sandwiches, while Kate took a bag of chips and stashed a handful of cookies in a napkin for later.

“You can have the other sandwich, you know,” said Jack. “I ate mine earlier.” Kate was younger than him and James, so she wouldn’t watch that miracle-of-life video until the following year. Jack figured she might not know about the connective tissue in her bones. How it was surely already yawning longer, begging for sustenance. Girls matured faster than boys—he’d learned that in the video, too.

Kate might have been an exception to the rule, though. With a shrug she turned the foil bag upside-down and clapped it hard between two hands, bursting it open with a firecracker pop. Jack hated when she did that, and he wasn’t alone. She drew a few jumps and exasperated gasps from the other children seated along the stretch of the table.

“Not that hungry,” she said between rough, crunching bites.

“You guys meet the new girl yet?” said James. “People are sayin’ she looks just like Claire.”

Kate perked up. Claire had been the ‘new girl’ the year prior, and she and Kate stayed attached at the hip for the whole eight months she and her mother spent in their little town. There due to some assignment for her mother’s work, always meant to be a temporary sojourn from their home base in a land far, far away. Australia, technically, which may as well have been on another planet.

Despite knowing well the whole time that there would be an end date to their friendship, their departure the previous spring had gutted Kate in a way she’d never experienced before. A sadness far too large for her small body, even if Jack was right and it was growing faster every day.

All the crying in the world couldn’t abate it. All summer she’d moped around, driving James nuts, wishing she could play the lottery or visit the small casino in town. She’d use her winnings to cover the cost of a long-distance phone call, if not a plane ticket direct to Sydney.

For awhile Claire had sent e-mails, but Kate didn’t have a computer at home. Neither did James. The family computer at Jack’s house was off-limits to the two of them, likely due to the same reasons Christian’s nostrils flared whenever they sat on the good furniture.

Whenever they snuck onto it Jack made sure to give her a few minutes to use it in private, punching James in the arm if he tried to peek over her shoulder to see what she was writing. But Kate was ever-fearful of setting Christian off, didn’t want to be the reason Jack got in trouble. He didn’t talk about what happened when he did, but Kate’s imagination was primed to run wild with worst-case scenarios.

She’d done what she could to sneak in replies during computer class, keeping the window as small as possible in the corner while she pretended to be enthralled in her typing lessons. Got caught by the teacher once, then twice, and then got too scared to keep it up after that. Kate didn’t like getting in trouble, either, because it was always a fifty-fifty shot as to whether the school would reach her father or mother first, and if her mother won out that meant they’d reach Wayne, too.

By that point, Claire’s messages were getting shorter anyway. Fewer smiley faces, fewer keystroke hearts. Easier to let her go, and let their friendship turn into something that lived in the thrash of happy memories Kate returned to every time there were loud sounds outside her bedroom door, ones even her headphones couldn’t drown out.

“She doesn't look like her. She’s just blonde,” said Jack. “Claire was about four feet tall, and Juliet’s even taller than you are. Plus she never smiles.”

“How do you know that?” said James, narrowing his eyes. “She’s in the other class.”

“I met her last weekend. Her dad’s a doctor, too—they had a party for him at the club.”

“Oh, great,” James snorted. “Another rich kid.”

They traded a few barbs along the same lines they usually did when the topic of families and money came up. These exchanges always ended at the same place—Jack getting James to admit that even rich kids still had problems, and James wedging in a quick last word to the effect of wishing he could worry about his problems in a hot tub or in front of a big-screen TV, while someone else picked up after him.

Kate had tuned out the conversation awhile back in favor of scanning the crowded cafeteria. Just as her eyes landed on the back of an unfamiliar head—blonde as promised, hair woven neatly into a long braid—James opened the other bag of chips, using the same balloon-popping method Kate had employed earlier.

This time she was among the victims of the rupture, and she glared as she clapped a hand to the ear facing him. He grinned back, shoveling a big handful into his mouth.

“Look, she’s lookin’ over here,” he said, pointing in Juliet’s direction. Kate snapped her head around, but by the time she found her again, she’d turned away.

Just go talk to her, Kate said to herself once they’d bundled into their winter coats and headed out to recess. Now’s your chance. She might have told herself she was being ridiculous, but the gaggle of girls surrounding Juliet begged to differ. Newcomers were always a big event in a town like theirs, but for some reason this one had drawn an especially large crowd.

Their high-pitched tittering was giving Kate a headache even from afar, and she could only assume the manner of conversation topics being brandished about. Probably her most dreaded trifecta: clothes, makeup, heartthrob celebrities. So she told herself she’d find another opportunity, and submitted to playing horse with James, Jack, and their other friend Hugo.

“Beat that, Hurley,” said James in a sing-song voice as he passed the ball his way. He’d made a long shot without a lick of trouble. All his three-pointer practice was finally paying off.

“Dude, I’ve asked you not to call me that, like, a million times,” said Hugo, dribbling the ball twice before he chucked it forward with all his might. It came up way short, whiffing against the bottom of the net.

“Then you shouldn’t’ve puked at the carnival,” chided James.

His cockiness was not rewarded, to Kate and Hugo’s great delight—all the playground three-pointer drills in the world couldn’t compete with Jack’s budding AAU career. Jack winning handily—again—got James started up on another rant about rich kids and their many unfair advantages, and Kate hurried to suggest they play again before the conversation risked turning to Juliet.

For the rest of the day she felt jumpy—fingers drumming on her desk, eyes shifting off into the middle distance while she wondered when her next opportunity would arise. Her mind concocted a number of possible schemes which could trap Juliet into an introduction, but they all seemed too complicated to pull off in a timely manner. And Kate sensed that if she didn’t get to her soon, she’d miss her chance. Why she felt that way, she wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t shake it.

As luck would have it, a second chance came around within a few hours. She and James trudged downhill to their bus after they’d bid Jack goodbye at the parent pickup area where Paula’s sedan was waiting for him. Clouds of breath in the air, the high snowbanks along the walkway tempting James and a couple other kids who lived in their trailer park into roughhousing against them.

Kate rolled her eyes and left them behind, side-stepping the bus monitor descending on the group with an angelic smile, as if to prove she had nothing to do with those rapscallions. The dry heat inside the bus hit her like she’d walked into a wall, machinery chugging hard in defiance of the frigid day.

When she saw Juliet sitting alone toward the back of the bus, she was sure her eyes were playing tricks on her. Why anyone whose doctor-father was welcomed to town with a country club party would take the bus home—let alone be on Kate’s bus—was a mystery. One she had to get to the bottom of, and it was that curiosity that propelled her to march down the aisle and plop beside Juliet more than anything.

It wasn’t until she was already sitting there—maybe prompted by Juliet staring at her with a strange, quizzical expression—that she realized this was the exact opportunity she’d been daydreaming about all afternoon.

Her mind went blank. She hadn’t thought ahead far enough to know what she actually planned to say once the introduction was in front of her.

For a long moment she stared back at Juliet with her mouth open slightly, and then she noticed her attire—no winter coat, just a fleece jacket and a red scarf wound tightly around her neck. No hat or gloves, even. Her nose, cheeks, and knuckles were all bright pink, almost like they’d gotten sunburned.

“Aren’t you cold?” Kate blurted out.

She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. “No, it’s actually a little too warm in here, if you ask me.”

“But I mean—what about outside? You don’t have the right clothes?”

“We just moved from Florida. My dad’s taking us shopping this weekend.”

“You should have a hat at least. You lose most of your body heat through your head, you know.”

“I did know that,” she said, the words accompanied by a little twitch at the corner of her mouth. No smile, though, holding up to Jack’s earlier claim. “But you’re right. Maybe one of my dad’s baseball caps will help, at least for now.”

The way she spoke was strange. Calm and formal, all her words neatly enunciated at both ends like she was a newscaster. It made her seem much more than a year older than Kate. It also made Kate want to get her talking more, so she could study her and understand what made her that way.

“Where do you live?”

Another raise of the eyebrow. “It’s usually not a good idea to tell things like that to strangers.”

Kate felt her cheeks flush. She wished she’d been as poorly dressed for the weather as Juliet was, so she could blame it on the cold.

“Well, okay—I’m Kate. Now I’m not a stranger anymore.”

“It takes more than that to make someone not a stranger, I think. But I’m Juliet. Where do you live, Kate?”

“The trailer park,” she said right away. No sense in fearing strangers when the real horrors were going on night after night inside her own home. “Like most of the kids who take this bus. That’s why I’m asking—I figured I would’ve seen you around already, if you lived there.”

She nodded, like the reasoning was logical enough to quell any possible danger Kate posed to her. “I don’t really know my way around yet. But we live in an old house right off the main road—it’s way too big just for the three of us. And I know I’m the second to last stop. The driver said she’d tell me when we got there.”

“We’re the last stop,” said Kate. “So I can tell you, too. In case Danielle forgets—she gets distracted a lot.”

“Really?” she said uncertainly, sitting up a little taller to peer forward at the line of her eyes in the wide rearview mirror.

“So what, it’s just you and your parents?”

As she shook her head she scrunched up her mouth. “No—my dad, my older sister, and me. My parents are divorced.”

Before Kate could offer any sympathy or follow-up questions, James and the other boys who’d gotten a talking-to from the bus monitor lumbered up the stairs. She watched him look around, his eyes widening as he registered who was beside her.

“Sorry,” Kate mumbled, ducking her head down as if she had any hope of hiding from him.

“For what, my parents?”

“Uh—well, that too. But mostly for this,” she said, just as James sidled into the seat in front of them.

“Hey there,” he said with a big smile, crossing his arms on the back of his bench. “I’m James. But you can call me Sawyer, if you want.”

“Nobody calls him that,” cut in Kate.

“Like Tom Sawyer, in the book,” he barreled on like Kate hadn’t spoken. “And I already know you’re Juliet. Too bad Kate got to you first—‘Freckles and Blondie, sittin’ in a tree’ just don’t have the same ring to it as ‘Sawyer and Blondie,’ if you ask me.”

Kate rolled her eyes at Juliet as if reinforcing her apology. But Juliet gave James the same perplexed, vaguely teasing stare she’d bestowed upon Kate, and he balked in a way Kate had never seen before. Mumbling something that sounded almost like an apology as he slumped down to look out the window. His head was tilted back at a stiff angle, though; he was definitely still listening to them at minimum.

“Freckles?” she said, looking closely at the parts of Kate’s face not covered by her hat, scarf, or the collar of her coat as if searching for evidence.

“He’s not very creative,” said Kate, noting the way James let the criticism fly without protest, even though his head jerked back like he intended to offer a retort.

The bus rattled to life and pulled out of the parking lot. James’ presence made Kate feel shy, and she wasn’t sure what else to talk to Juliet about, anyway. So they sat together in silence while Kate watched her watch the landscape passing them by.

Only when they’d reached the third-to-last stop did Juliet pipe up. The bus was surrounded by a wooded stretch of road, all the curtains of evergreen weighed down heavily by the snow that had fallen the night before.

Someone had built a snowman at the bus stop. It was decked out with a red scarf just like Juliet’s, plus a cable-knit hat that would do a much better job of keeping her warm than a baseball cap would.

Kate was overwhelmed with a sudden desire to bolt off the bus and swipe the hat from the snowman’s head to give to her. And she might’ve tried, if Juliet had stayed silent.

“It’s like being in a Christmas card,” she said in a breathy, delighted voice, so different from the measured tone she’d used before. When she turned to look at Kate she was smiling wide. Light danced in her eyes, not unlike the snowflakes being blown around against the crystal blue sky outside.

The bus pulled away, and Kate spent the ride to Juliet’s stop trying and failing to think of something to say. She hoped the grin she gave in return for her smile was good enough.

Juliet departed with a small, bare-handed wave and a louder-than-necessary “Bye, James,” targeted at the boy climbing right over the bench to take her former seat by the window. He almost fell down trying to say something back to her, but she was long gone, pausing only to throw a quick glance over her shoulder at Kate.

“I gotta tell my uncle to go get me some more Valentine’s cards,” he grumbled, his eyes fixed on Juliet’s braid as it swung back and forth behind her.

Kate would’ve made fun of him for caring about Valentine’s Day all of a sudden, if she hadn’t been thinking the exact same thing.

Chapter 2: Christmas Card

Summary:

Valentine's Day is coming, but Kate doesn't have an extra card to give Juliet.

Usually, Kate didn’t need any special reason to resent the long stretches of time she spent with her mother. Being there was like being on a lost ship in a deep stormy night. The intermissions of every-other-weekend at her dad’s place operated like beacons calling to her.

A bright blue searchlight—starting out pinhole-sized after she’d passed the halfway mark, then growing larger with each passing day. Until she saw his car pull into the trailer park entrance and snatched up her overnight bag to wait for him on the porch, the overwhelming flare of relief nearly blinding her by then.

Hand tousling her hair while she buckled into the passenger seat of his truck, a joyful “hey, kiddo.” Grinning until her cheeks hurt, all the stories and bragging rights she’d saved up from the last two weeks tumbling out of her. They filled the half-hour drive easily, leaving him little-to-no space to get a word in edgewise. At least anything beyond “wow,” “nice job,” or “that sounds great.”

Her reverie lasted until they got to his house, when the clock started counting down in the other direction. The bad direction. Less like a beacon in the night than a ticking time bomb.

On the day she met Juliet, though, she gained an extra reason to hate where she was stuck for the rest of the week. Her Valentine’s Day cards meant for the class party on Friday were already addressed and sealed with Hershey kisses inside, and there weren’t any left to spare. She didn’t dare ask her mother to get her more, already able to predict the exact tenor of the lecture she’d get in response.

Maybe James really was going to request that his uncle get him more cards; in fact, it seemed more likely to Kate that he would than not. James, at least, had the excuse of not wanting the new girl to feel left out of the festivities. It didn’t even make sense for Kate to get a card for Juliet—they would be at different parties since they weren’t in the same grade. So no way was she going to beg one off him and risk revealing her intentions.

Making one from scratch with scissors and glue felt far too juvenile. It was too far a walk to the paper goods store, and she wasn’t allowed to ride her bike during the winter. If she did make it there, stealing something like a card would be easy enough. But it didn’t feel right, to give Juliet something stolen.

She wasn’t totally sure it was right to give her something acquired by legal means, either, but she knew she wanted to. For several days she stewed over the conundrum, forlornly watching Juliet float around the playground with her horde of followers. The two of them sat together each afternoon on the bus, at least, giving Kate a new bright beacon to yearn for.

As promised, Juliet returned on her second day in a baseball cap. Adult-sized and turquoise, with the Miami Marlins insignia embroidered on the front. She had the adjustable strap in the back tightened as far as it would go. Still the hat flopped around—she was constantly re-centering it atop her head.

More often than not they rode home in silence, but tidbits of Juliet got interspersed here and there. Kate clung to each one as tightly as she could; she even scribbled them down in her diary at night so she wouldn’t forget them.

Juliet got a ride from her dad in the mornings, but he almost never got off work in time to pick her up at the end of the day.

Juliet’s sister was old enough to be in charge in the hours after school before their dad got home, but not old enough to make anything more than boxed macaroni and cheese for dinner on nights he worked late.

Juliet’s sister was named Rachel.

Juliet used to like boxed macaroni and cheese, but she was getting sick of it fast.

Juliet’s dad worked late a lot.

Juliet’s mom was still in Florida, and had been less upset by her dad’s idea to move the girls closer to his side of the family without her than Juliet had expected.

Juliet’s favorite color was turquoise, like her baseball cap.

Juliet’s favorite animals were dolphins and her dad had a turquoise Miami Dolphins baseball cap, too.

Juliet didn’t like football, though, which was why she’d chosen the Marlins cap over the Dolphins one.

Juliet knew a lot of facts about dolphins. These were a little harder for Kate to recall in detail by the time she opened up her diary at night, compared to the facts about Juliet herself. She still made sure to listen intently every time Juliet shared one.

By Thursday night she was poring over the information she’d filled into her diary beneath the covers with a flashlight, as if there was a hidden clue somewhere between the lines. Coming up short, she threw the blanket off her head and watched yet another nighttime snowfall, big flakes floating down against the orange glow of streetlights outside.

Suddenly an idea came to her. She removed her headphones—tentatively, one side at a time. The night had been quiet when she went to bed, but it was easier to put them on in advance of any reasons to need them. Then sometimes, she could tell herself the noises cutting through the music were just bits of the backing track she’d never noticed before.

Still quiet. A long sigh through her nose. She stepped as lightly as she could, eased the latch on her door. Paused before she pulled the door itself open. Still quiet. Luckily the kitchen wasn’t far; luckily all the Christmas cards sent from family members and her mother’s coworkers were still stuck there with magnets.

She traced her fingers over them, searching for a generic one that didn’t have a picture of a family she barely knew. Despite how many cards her mother and Wayne received, they’d never sent one out. As if Diane was well aware that the three of them smiling and posing like the people on the fridge would be a big fat lie.

Finally, she found one that would be perfect. No family, no Santa, nothing religious. Just an image of a forest glen, little cartoon animals prancing in the foreground. Thick cartoon snow blanketing all the trees behind them.

Back in her room, she glued a blank square of paper torn out from her diary over the inside of the card, to cover up the generic greeting and scrawled signatures. She decided to glue down a second, too, since she could still make out some of the writing beneath if she squinted.

Then, as it tended to go with Juliet, she got stopped short in the midst of her plan by the knowledge that she didn’t know what she wanted to say to her. With the Valentine’s Day cards she’d addressed to her classmates, this hadn’t been an issue. To: Classmate, From: Kate was all they required. But there was so much space inside the Christmas card. The impersonal nature of such a greeting would feel too stark there.

At least an hour or two went by, with her sitting at her desk staring at the blank space inside the card and coming up just as blank herself. Then she felt her eyes closing more and more, and knew she had to pick something before she got transported into the next day empty-handed.

Dear Juliet, (First written like ‘Juliet,’ then she added a -te at the end, then she thought better of it and crossed it out to write ‘Juliet’ again.)

I like sitting next to you on the bus, and I’m glad you moved here. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Your friend (I hope),

Kate

P.S. I think dolphins are cool, but I don’t know any facts about them. Maybe when I give you this you can tell me another one.

She drifted off with the card in her hand, overslept, and almost missed the morning bus. Shocked awake by her mother’s urgent voice and fist banging into the door.

Her own Valentine’s Day party that afternoon was fun enough, but she was far too nervous to eat any of the candy or baked goods the other parents had brought in.

As she walked fast to the parking lot—tearing out the door the second the bell rang so she had a chance to give Juliet the card before James made it onto the bus—she was hit with an overwhelming fear that maybe Juliet wouldn’t be there that day. Maybe Fridays were days her dad got off work in time to pick her up.

Kate was the first person on, so her heart pounded hard while she slid into their usual seat and pressed her cheek against the window. Her knee bounced in place even after she’d caught sight of Juliet’s bright baseball cap, not settling until she’d crossed the threshold of the parent pickup area.

She beamed and waved at Kate as she climbed up the bus steps, and launched into a story about something funny Jack and James had done at the party as soon as she'd sat down. Kate nodded along, even throwing in a few “oh wow,” or “no way” interjections, but she didn’t process a single word of it.

The first time Juliet stopped to take a breath, she cut in, hoping that she was at the end of the tale but not quite able to care enough to ask if that was the case.

“I got something for you,” she said, immediately feeling herself blush. She wrinkled her nose hard, as if that could stave off the spots of red rushing into her cheeks.

Juliet’s eyes widened as she adjusted her baseball cap. “Really? For Valentine’s Day?”

“Um, yeah.” She unzipped her backpack and reached into the protected front pocket. “I ran out of cards, but I hope this one is close enough.”

As she handed it over she couldn’t stop herself from explaining and apologizing, so sure Juliet would know it was a Christmas card, would be able to see the writing underneath the glued-on printer paper, would think the whole thing was weird.

For a moment her eyes danced over the image on the front, drinking it in, then she flipped it open. Seemed to read it two or three times, from how long her lips moved silently shaping the words.

Kate stared at her, heart pounding hard again until Juliet looked up and smiled just as wide as she had the day they’d met.

“Oh, it’s perfect!” she gushed. “I love the idea of using cards from other holidays—that’s just like recycling! And you got my name right!”

Then she started up another story. Something about the ocean she’d learned in science class at her old school, how harmful trash was to all kinds of sea creatures. She might've worked in the dolphin fact requested in the postscript, but Kate couldn't remember. Again she barely absorbed a word Juliet said, this time because her heart was near to bursting.

She was so busy being wrapped up in that feeling that she startled when Juliet leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, blinking back at her in abject confusion.

“Thanks, Kate,” she said shyly.

Kate made sure to smile once her brain had caught up, so Juliet knew she didn’t think it was weird.

Well, maybe she did—the good kind of weird. But nowhere near unwelcome. In fact, Kate was a little angry at herself for not paying proper attention while it happened. She started concocting ways to bring about the same series of events yet again, already looking forward to getting Juliet a card for the next holiday on the calendar.

Suddenly she was overcome with the need to know when her birthday was. Her sister’s birthday, and her dad’s. Her favorite month. The Marlins’ opening day. Anything in the whole wide world that she might want to celebrate.

Unfortunately for them both, James had entered the bus just in time to see what had happened, and he picked up the refrain he’d begun a few days earlier. The one that’d made Juliet the one to get him to shut up, maybe for the first time in his life.

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” he belted with all his might, bobbing his head back and forth with each letter. “See, I told ya!”

Instead of giving him her famous stare, Juliet turned to Kate and rolled her eyes with a laugh. Like the kiss was a secret just for them, even if someone else had seen it.

Later that night Kate wrote furiously in her diary, deep deep under the covers with the flashlight set as low as it could get:

Juliet’s lips are really soft.

Chapter 3: One of Seven Deadly Cartoon Monsters

Summary:

Who's going with who to the Valentine's Day dance?

Going to the Valentine’s Day dance all together had been Jack’s idea. It took the pressure off having to actually ask a date, he argued, and that way they would each have someone to dance with if they wanted.

Himself with Juliet and Kate with James, were the pairings he suggested—quickly he added as an aside to Kate that it was only because Juliet was still taller than James, and the two of them might look funny dancing together. The other three all protested at first, until Kate agreed the idea had some merit and managed to convince the other two that it might even be fun.

So far, seventh grade had been her best year yet, since it’d finally brought Jack, Juliet, and James back into her school-hours social life. Fifth grade had positively sucked, since they had all moved on to middle school and left her by herself. If it weren’t for Hugo, she wouldn’t have had anyone to eat lunch with or play with at recess.

Then once she finally made it to middle school, she was devastated to find that the sixth graders were on their own schedule. Different lunch break, different sports, different dances. Different hallways, even. She was lucky to get a passing glance at Jack or Juliet during the day.

James she still saw plenty of. Around their neighborhood of course, plus they sat on the bus together both ways like they did before Juliet moved to town. Between the various after-school clubs she had signed up for and her dad opting to end his work days earlier in exchange for more weekend call shifts, she rarely took the bus anymore.

Rachel passed her driver’s license exam right around the time Jack suggested the dance, which might’ve given Kate the motivation she needed to second the proposal. Surely, Juliet would have no reason to take the bus again after that.

If that was her motivation, it couldn’t have been due to anything more than nostalgia. Even if Juliet still took the bus every day like she had before, that wouldn’t offer more than a negligible difference in the overall amount of time the two girls spent together.

At least two or three times a week, Kate hung around the courtyard or library waiting for Juliet’s club of the day to let out, then they went over to her house to do homework and have dinner. Almost never boxed macaroni and cheese, either, since Juliet’s dad was around most nights. He was a good cook, and he got a kick out of how much Kate ate, making careful note of her preferences and grinning at her whenever asked for seconds.

Every Friday night Kate wasn’t at her dad’s, she stayed over at Juliet’s. Sometimes she’d stay through Saturday night, too. She had to be choosy with those double-headers, though—usually that was a long enough absence to get Wayne riled up upon her return home.

He’d be sure to say—or slur, depending on the hour—something about how she already missed out on so many weekends with her mother due to the custody arrangement. That the least she could do was make the most of the quality time they did have available.

As the years went on these tirades started getting more cutting, more personal. Spinning into stories about Juliet, how she was a bad influence on Kate. Because what good influence would keep a child away from her poor mother like that?

Somehow Diane was never around to chime in one way or the other. Occasionally she was off working a Sunday double brunch-dinner shift, but even when she was home she stayed out of sight. No way she didn’t know what Wayne was saying, since their house just wasn’t big enough to avoid eavesdropping on things you’d rather not hear.

The previous weekend, Kate dragged James along to the department store downtown so he could pick out a tie that would match her dress. An old one of Rachel’s she was going to borrow, packed away down in basement storage. She’d offered it up to Kate unprompted, claiming it would bring out her eyes.

James held up each tie to Kate’s face to check the color, since she hadn’t actually seen the dress yet. They had a good time causing a ruckus among the formal wear, trying on as many big hats as they could find and hiding inside clothing racks to jump-scare passersby. But still Kate felt a little uneasy the whole time, thinking that the whole point of Jack’s idea was that she wouldn’t have to go to the dance with a proper date. Yet there she and James were, shopping all by themselves. Like maybe the department store was preparation for the main affair.

At least she would be getting ready with Juliet at her house, and they’d meet Jack and James at the school. That would make it feel a little more like they were all going as friends, even if James’ tie matched Kate’s dress and Jack’s matched Juliet’s. Once they were safe inside the dimly-lit cafeteria, it would be hard to tell what colors they were wearing anyway. Hard to tell whose date was whose.

The dance fell on a Friday Kate was supposed to be with her dad, and she was staying over at Juliet’s afterward. So she spent Thursday night at his house, and they went out to dinner before he dropped her off. She felt more than happy to make up for the lost hours with him that way, getting her to question why it was that Wayne thought she was incapable of making such compromises.

“Want me to wait?” he asked as Kate grabbed her bag out from under the front seat.

“Nope, that’s okay,” she said. “Bye, Dad.”

“Have a blast, kiddo,” he called with a wave before she shut the car door. His truck sputtered down Juliet’s long driveway, a puff of thick black smoke billowing out the tailpipe behind him. There was no snow on the ground that day, but it was still plenty cold. Kate rubbed her hands together as she rang the doorbell with her elbow.

The size of their house meant it usually took a minute or two before someone made it to the door. While Kate waited, her stomach catapulted up and down like she was riding a rollercoaster. She wondered why—she wasn’t even going to the dance yet. This part was just like any other evening hanging out with Juliet. Other than the fact that Rachel would be doing their hair and makeup, and Kate would be leaving in a dress. Those certainly could’ve been reasons enough for her nerves.

When was the last time she’d worn a dress, even? Her mother had tried to get her to wear one at her great-aunt’s funeral last year, but she’d made such a fuss about it that she’d given up. Maybe her first communion back in second grade. Not long enough ago, in her opinion.

She hoped the dress waiting for her wasn’t as shiny and princessy as that secondhand ivory satin number had been. Rachel’s style definitely didn’t scream ‘princessy,’ but it was an old dress. Who knew what other phases she might’ve gone through in her years?

Rachel was the one to answer the door, and Kate bit her tongue against the urge to immediately ask about the dress. Wished her a polite hello instead, taking a few seconds to register the look on her face—a little sad, almost apologetic.

An unusual look for Rachel, whose expression was typically caught somewhere between amusement and boredom. Similar to the way Juliet looked at people, but wiser. Like she’d already figured you out and she was impatiently waiting for you to figure yourself out, too.

Before Kate could say anything, Rachel invited her in. She sighed as she closed the door, pushing it hard past the place where it tended to get stuck.

“Juliet’s not going,” she said. She shook her head like she was exasperated by the statement.

Kate froze in place. “What do you mean?” she asked. Felt her lip trembling, her pulse picking up speed. “Is she sick?”

“No, she’s fine,” said Rachel. “She just gets like this sometimes. Like stage fright, but without the stage.”

“Oh,” said Kate. She furrowed her brow, her head hanging down limply. Not knowing what to do with herself, wishing with all her might that she’d asked her dad to wait. Her bag hung just as limply in her hand, brushing against the terracotta floor tile as it swung back and forth.

“I still owe you a dress though, right? And your hair and makeup?”

Kate shrugged. Suddenly she didn’t want to go to the dance, either. “Can I see her?” she asked. She cleared her throat to fight down the lump she felt rising.

“I think she’d rather be alone—she was pretty upset. And trust me, I already spent about an hour trying to convince her she should go.” She smiled and nodded toward the back staircase which stretched up from the mud room. “But hey, now you’re gonna have two boys to dance with. That’s pretty cool.”

As she followed Rachel to her room in the attic, Kate tried to find it in herself to agree.

Nothing princessy about the dress, at least—a simple shift style with cap sleeves, deep and dark like the needles of an evergreen tree. The shade would match James’ tie closely enough, even if the cafeteria was a little brighter than dim.

Rachel put on a CD before she steered Kate toward the stool at her vanity, and didn’t ask how she wanted her hair done before she started working on it. On any other day this might’ve bothered Kate, but right then she felt grateful. She didn’t know the names of any hairstyles, anyway, and since she didn’t have to offer up instructions or opinions she was free to let her mind run wild.

There had to be something Rachel hadn’t thought of. Something that would make Juliet see how much fun the dance would be, something that Kate could do or say. Ways to make the event into a game, or a promise to Juliet that she’d make Jack leave her alone if she didn’t want to dance with him. She’d even offer to hold her hand the whole time, so she wouldn’t be scared.

Letting in that last idea was a big mistake, since it forced the tears she’d been fighting up over the edge. They were streaming down her face before she had a chance to stop them. No chance, either, to keep back the gobs of snot running out of her nose like it was a faucet.

For a few minutes Rachel didn’t acknowledge that she was crying, apart from moving the box of tissues on the vanity within reach. Kate went through about a dozen of them, and still more tears and snot kept coming. She found herself detesting the size of the Carlsons' house, wishing that Juliet would hear her and come see what was wrong.

After Rachel tied off the low, braided bun she’d wound her hair into, she sighed. Kate looked up, and saw that she was staring at her in the mirror.

“You should cry as long as you need to, but you should also get it all out before I start doing your makeup,” she said, in that older-sister tone Kate was still getting familiar with. Vaguely annoyed, vaguely arrogant—like she knew without a doubt that she was right.

She was, of course. Kate nodded and let her shoulders shake a few more times. One last swipe across her eyes, one last big, honking blow into a tissue.

Rachel gave her another minute as if to make sure the worst was over, then she dragged out a big makeup case from under her bed. Kate gaped at it, like it was Pandora’s box and fell beasts were gnashing at the underside. Waiting for a chance to wrastle free and take the world by storm.

“Only a little, okay?” she said nervously.

With a laugh Rachel agreed, promising her that she’d take it easy. By the time she was done Kate’s reflection had transformed like magic. She still looked like herself, but the splotches on her face were gone, and the redness that had rimmed her eyes was counterbalanced by the tiniest nick of liner in the corners.

“How do you feel?” asked Rachel, putting one hand on her shoulder.

It was hard to smile, but Kate tried. “Better,” she relented.

“Good. Then we should get going. I can still pick you up after, but do you want to call your dad instead? Jules said you’re with him this weekend.”

Kate nodded, but then thought about explaining what had happened and worried that the conversation would make her start crying all over again. She looked down sheepishly, biting on her lip.

“Um, do you mind calling him?”

“Oh, sure.”

She dove across her bed to grab the phone from her nightstand. Kate recited his number, and listened in awe as Rachel expertly navigated a conversation with an adult she’d never met before. Managing not to reveal even a hint of Juliet’s or Kate’s distress, making it sound like it was her own fault the plans had changed. By the end of the conversation they were trading jokes as if they were old friends.

“Alright, you’re all set. He’ll be outside the school at nine sharp.”

Out in the garage, Kate’s bare knees knocked together while Rachel lifted up the door by hand—the automatic opener had been broken since the Carlsons first moved in over three years ago. One of those things that was always on their monthly to-do list, but somehow never made it to done.

The driver’s license in Rachel’s wallet was still minty-fresh, and Kate clung for dear life to the handle above the passenger’s side window around every squealing turn they made. They even blew right through a four way stop sign—luckily no other cars were at the intersection—and Rachel swore loudly as she realized what she’d done before turning to Kate with eyes like saucers.

“Uh, maybe don’t tell my dad about that,” she said with a grimace.

It got a real laugh out of Kate, and the humor plus the adrenaline was enough to get her feeling almost excited by the time they made it to the school. She gave Rachel an earnest thank you and a wave before taking a deep breath and going inside.

The bass pounded hard in her ears the minute she entered the hallway, and she said hello to Hugo and a newer friend Sun, who lived on the other side of town and hadn’t gone to elementary school with them.

Quickly she spotted Jack leaning against the wall by the refreshments. He caught her eye and smiled, then balked like he was surprised to see her alone.

“Juliet’s sick,” she offered before he could ask about her. Easier to lie than to risk the truth bubbling up in the form of tears again. She almost believed it herself.

“That’s too bad,” he said. “James disappeared somewhere with Miles and Jin right after we got here. So I’m really glad you still came.”

She took a cookie from the refreshment table just to have something to do with her hands, and stood beside Jack while she nibbled at it. They talked a little—about school, about Jack’s most recent basketball game. Several jivey, thumping songs passed them by, until the tune changed into something more melodic and slow.

“Do you wanna dance?” he said, turning to her with a shy hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“But we don’t match,” she blurted.

He laughed. “I don’t think that’s required.”

For a moment she stared at him. He was supposed to be Juliet’s dance partner, and Kate was supposed to be James’. Though now she realized that if Juliet had come, her presence would’ve relegated Kate to watching her and Jack dance from her spot on the wall while James was off getting into whatever mischief he was presently engaged in.

The idea roiled in her stomach as a prickly heat crept up the back of her neck. She felt green all over, and not because of her dress. An image of an old Sunday school lesson popped into her head—the cartoon monster meant to represent Envy. One of seven on the worksheet, one Kate hadn’t spent too much time with yet.

Back when they’d learned that lesson, it was the Wrath cartoon with whom she’d felt most kindred. With a tight, fearful gulp, she wondered which one of them would be next to enter her life.

Jack was staring at her eagerly, so she smiled and nodded. “Yeah, let’s dance.”

He took her by the hand and led them out into the crowd, his arms a bit too straight and stiff once they were in place at her waist. At first Kate’s arms on his shoulders were, too, but as the song went on she found herself relaxing them bit by bit, and each time she did she moved a little closer to him. Since he was tall (like Juliet) his chin was brushing the top of her head by the time the music changed.

They didn’t break apart right away, and Kate found herself wishing the song was longer. Back to the wall they went, talking a little more animatedly this time—about the movies they’d seen lately, about how narrowly Jack had avoided getting grounded a couple weeks ago.

Each time the music slowed they went back to the dance floor, neither of them having to ask the other again. Toward the end of the night James finally appeared, and he waltzed over to accuse them of orchestrating the whole plan for the group to go as friends so they could actually be each others’ dates.

Jack denied it, but he blushed a little. Kate knew it wasn’t true, but for some reason she blushed, too.

After the music wound down for good Jack continued holding onto her hand, and he didn’t drop it even when they stepped outside and Kate saw her dad watching for her from where he leaned against his truck. He raised his eyebrows a little when she and Jack parted with a quick hug, but didn’t bring it up on the ride home.

For once Kate didn’t fill the drive with stories, too mixed up inside to put words to any of what had happened.

She didn’t sleep well, and decided that was a reasonable enough excuse for why she acted the way she did when Juliet called after dinner the next night. As soon as her dad handed her the phone she ran with it to her room, yelling over her shoulder to make sure he did not pick up the other line, no matter what.

“How was the dance?” asked Juliet, once they’d exchanged terser-than-usual hellos.

“Fine,” said Kate. She sat cross-legged at the end of her bed and picked at a loose thread on the quilt.

“Well, did you have fun? Rachel said her dress looked really good on you.”

“I guess,” she mumbled. “It was fine.”

“So I heard,” said Juliet, and the light, joking tone she used made the Wrath cartoon loom large, swelling to fill the space of Kate’s heart.

For a moment no sound passed over the line but their breathing. Just as Juliet took a bigger breath like she was about to speak, Kate set herself loose.

“Since you weren’t there, I had to dance with Jack. He was really upset. James ditched him, like, the minute they got there, so he was almost all alone. And we’re basically dating now.”

“Oh,” said Juliet simply. “That’s great.”

“Great?” Kate repeated back. Her face scrunched in tight toward the middle. She picked harder at the quilt thread, unraveling it further the more she tried to break it free.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice turning uncertain. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you like him?”

“That’s not the point,” Kate huffed.

“I don’t think I understand,” said Juliet.

“How could you?” said Kate. “You weren’t even there.”

“I know—I’m sorry. Did something happen?”

“I just told you what happened.”

She sighed, and Kate could picture her tracing her forefinger above her eyebrow, like she often did when something was troubling her. “It sounds like you’re mad at me, Kate, and I don’t know why.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, well I’m happy for you and Jack. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there, even if nothing bad happened. I just wanted to know if you had fun, that’s all.”

“Well, I did.”

“Good.”

Another pause, then it was Kate’s turn to sigh. “I should go. My dad needs the phone.”

“Okay. I’ll see you on Monday, I guess.”

“See you.”

Juliet started to say something else, but Kate hung up before she could hear it. She hurried to return the phone to the kitchen so she could make it to her room before the tears picked back up in earnest.

On Monday, Jack was waiting for her by the buses, and he grabbed her hand first thing. The stiffness must have returned to her arm like they were dancing for the first time again, because he faltered a little and asked if that was okay to do.

It was okay—really, it was. His grip was strong and warm and nice, and Kate’s hand felt safe there. She assured him as much and gave his hand a squeeze.

There was only one moment where she came close to dropping it: just after Juliet stepped out of her dad’s car in the parking lot, when Kate saw her notice them together. Couldn’t have been a surprise to her overall, but still a small shock wave passed across her face.

Right before her expression settled to neutral, Kate swore her eyes narrowed in the exact same fashion as the cartoon Envy monster’s, and that maybe a reddish prickle was showing up in the bare stretches of skin around her scarf. That was the moment she almost dropped Jack’s hand, for suddenly the warmth of his grip burned like they were on fire.

But it happened so fast, and it didn’t make any sense. So Kate held on tighter, and told herself she’d just imagined it. And when Juliet came over she smiled at them, making a similar joking accusation as James had at the dance.

This time Jack didn’t exactly deny it, and he didn’t blush either. Kate did, though—on both counts. For the whole rest of the day her face felt hot. Like either the blush or the Envy monster wouldn't leave her be.

Maybe it was a little of both, but talk about things that didn’t make any sense.

Chapter 4: Damned If You Do

Summary:

The gang goes to the movies.

The lovebirds were in a breakup phase. So as soon as they, James, and Juliet snuck into a movie right next to the PG-13 picture they’d bought tickets for, Kate bolted ahead to secure the seat closest to the wall. Juliet followed right behind, of course, and as luck would have it James ended up next to her.

Kate breathed a sigh of relief as she struggled out of her coat and bundled it in her lap. Things between her and Jack had stopped being painfully awkward, at least, but she didn’t want to spend the whole movie trying not to check whether he was looking at her.

Paula dropped them off—Jack had failed his driving test for the second time in January, and James and Juliet wouldn’t be eligible until their birthdays in the spring. Kate maintained that this second failure had incited the incident, but Juliet laughed and said it wasn’t that—they’d just reached their requisite nine-month dating limit. So of course such a rupture was inevitable, pass or fail.

“It’s like you get pregnant with a breakup,” she’d giggled. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop it from coming out when it’s ready.”

Kate said she was being gross, but she’d just kept giggling about it. It was a little annoying, but not as much as Kate tried to make her think it was.

It was a “call coming from inside the house” type of horror film that they were seeing. Kate didn’t get too affected by those. Now, ones about the devil—possession and exorcisms? Another story altogether. Her mom barely made them go to church anymore, but the old Sunday school lessons were in there deep. Difficult to shake off.

She didn’t like how at the start of those movies, the main characters (almost always girls, she noticed) had real problems, that they sometimes got lured into sharing with the adults around them. Lured into honesty, which came back around to hurt them. Often even more than the real problems had in the first place.

Difficult, to shake off the fickle sacrament of confession. A special, peaceful bubble where she could speak all her deepest secrets into the void of forgiveness. Nothing off limits, since there was nothing God had never heard before. So she’d been told in the classroom setting.

On the day she gave her first one—the only honest confession she ever gave—the nuns lining up the crowd of children in front of the reconciliation room were as close to giddy as Kate had ever seen them.

“You’ll be lighter than you've ever been before,” Sister Agatha said as she walked backwards down the church aisle, holding her arms out to the sides like she was about to take flight. “Like you’re being born all over again.”

Nothing was off limits, so Kate knelt in the cramped little room and fixed her eyes on the screen between her and the priest. Asked for a blessing. And as the song goes, offered up a sin in return:

About once a week for as long as her mother had been married to Wayne, she’d thought about killing him.

Maybe God had heard that one, but the vessel was still getting his feet under him. He was sandy-haired, fresh out of seminary. The type to work pop culture references into the homily and switch the music from organ to acoustic guitar.

He’d tried his best, but even clearing his throat several times didn’t stop his response from coming out in a high and strangled pitch. Kate had to admit she did get a little lighter when he said she could be forgiven—at first. But then he named the price: doing something kind for Wayne.

That price, she could never pay. A thousand Hail Marys would've been no problem, but it didn’t seem like haggling was part of the affair.

She’d been leaden by the time she exited the chamber, feeling like the only person in the universe God didn’t love.

Lying beside Juliet in the center of her bed reminded her of the confessional. Something about the low light, and looking up at the ceiling while they talked. It was easier, maybe, not to have eyes on each other.

Juliet wasn’t a priest, so it took Kate some time to figure out whether anything was off limits with her. She raised the stakes slowly, started with small things. It helped, too, that the exchange went both ways. Juliet, offering up humiliating moments back in Florida, times Rachel had pissed her off. How much she hated being home alone.

By the time Kate confessed her desire to kill Wayne (far more frequent than a weekly occurrence at that point, operating more like a constant undercurrent beneath all her day-to-day thoughts), she’d already made several adjacent bids.

The sharp crashing and crying outside her door at night, times her doorknob had been jiggled—just for a moment, before whoever was on the other side had retreated. Wishing she could run away.

Those all might’ve primed Juliet well enough, because hearing the big one didn’t make her clear her throat even once.

She did, however, break the confessional fourth wall. Sat up, switched on the nightlight beside her bed, and stared hard at Kate. Her eyes were wide. Not like she was scared, but like she didn’t want to miss a single piece of data.

Kate hadn’t been able to look back at her until she’d gotten all the words out. When she finally did, Juliet reached under the covers and grabbed on tightly to her hand. Her answer was something Kate could never forget, not as long as she lived. It got woven into her violent impulses, became another undercurrent that never quite went away.

“If you ever decide to do it, tell me first so I can help.”

She’d nodded, and Juliet shut the light before laying right back down where she’d been. She didn’t let go of Kate’s hand, though. After a long, quiet moment she sighed, and admitted that she’d cheated off Jack on their algebra test the previous week.

Not on purpose, she claimed—her eyes darted to his paper because someone near him had sneezed. When they did, they just happened to land on an answer she was struggling to come up with. At that point, not putting the information to good use seemed like a waste.

“Yeah, sure,” said Kate sarcastically. For a second Juliet looked at her in offense, then they both burst out laughing.

Once they’d gotten settled into their plush red theater seats, James and Juliet started racing to answer the trivia questions flashing on the screen. With the lights up, Kate could see Jack glancing her way as she’d feared, even though they were several seats apart. As Juliet yelled out the release year of a Martin Scorsese film (just a second before James did), Kate saw her notice the angle of Jack’s gaze.

A little waver across her face, a little catch in her voice. The kind of falters that passed so quickly she couldn’t be sure they were really there.

The lights cut out, and the screen faded to black before it turned over. Bluish glow against Juliet’s pale skin, shining in her eyes. As the previews started, they stayed fixed on the screen. Kate tried to keep hers there, too, but it was hard not to peek over every now and then. She felt a strange and sudden wave of sympathy for Jack.

It was good she wasn’t able to stop herself, in a sense; Juliet spoke a confession so softly that Kate might’ve assumed she’d imagined it, if she hadn’t looked in time to see her lips start moving.

“Don’t get back together with him.”

Not exactly a confession, but it was a rare enough sort of thing for Juliet to say that the aberration was an admission all its own. Kate stared at her for a minute or two, but she never met her eyes.

The movie scared Kate more than she’d expected it to, which meant it scared Juliet a whole hell of a lot. Several times she shrieked and clapped her hands over her face, drawing sympathetic laughs from James and Jack.

No laughs from Kate, but the next time she saw Juliet’s hand start to shake in its place on the armrest, she grabbed it with both of hers. Finally Juliet looked over at her, a small, grateful smile appearing just before another moment in the film made her jump. She could’ve used her free hand to block it out, but instead she ducked her head against Kate’s shoulder.

Juliet always smelled so good—like rain and flowers. The strength of the scent at that proximity kick-started the pace of Kate’s breathing. Already it had been faster than usual; she felt like she was running a race.

The shock and gore on screen paled in comparison to the fears Kate felt expanding in her chest. Fear of the movie ending, of having to let go of Juliet’s hand. Of the confessional waiting for them afterward.

Above all, she feared the offers she felt crawling into the undercurrent of her thoughts. Feared they might be the first ones to push the limit.

Chapter 5: Another Experiment

Summary:

You're invited to Marc Silverman's Valentine's Day Extravaganza!

Kate and Jack didn’t get back together. Kate simultaneously wanted to believe and was afraid to believe that it went that way for Juliet’s sake.

Either way, there'd been an assist. Provided by a likely source: Marc Silverman, who played basketball with Jack. He introduced him to Sarah shortly before the end of that school year, shortly after Jack finally passed his driving test. Right around the time Juliet passed hers, too.

Within a few weeks, Jack and Sarah were spending nearly all their spare hours together. They both acted like their separation during school days was tantamount to being off at war. For awhile this freed up Kate to spend more time with Juliet, but before long Juliet’s free time became something of a hot commodity.

Not just hers, either, though hers did take the most severe blow. All three of them got hit hard by junior year. Come winter, James got a snow shoveling job at the municipal complex through a friend of his uncle, and they all had SATs to study for. Plus their advanced placement courses. Jack took the ones in math and science, while James took the ones in history and language arts.

Juliet took them all. She was staggeringly stressed, and prone to getting short with Kate if she asked her to do something too many times in one week.

So Kate backed off, getting comfortable enough retreating into solitude just in time for the following summer. Juliet was off to the city the day after finals, where she'd enrolled in a collegiate-prep program. Doing some research project, one that she’d tried to explain to Kate about five times. Molecules, something like that. She’d get to wear a lab coat and look in a microscope, that was about all that stuck.

All the hours Jack wasn’t glued to Sarah’s side that summer, he spent at the hospital shadowing a colleague of Christian’s. James, meanwhile, had declared proudly that his only plan was lounging in the hammock with a book in his lap, since he'd already earned good money waking up before dawn throughout the winter. He stuck by it.

Kate tried hanging out with him on the porch for about two weeks, then she couldn’t take it anymore. It felt like moving backwards, while the rest of them were moving on. Even James, since the spines of his books were getting fatter and the typeset within them getting smaller. Not to mention all the money in his pocket, the things he was able to do with it. The idea was enticing, so Kate figured she'd give some good honest labor a try.

There was a farm in town that would hire almost anyone, Kate included. She showed up one day just after sunrise and got a pair of work gloves pressed into her chest before she could finish asking who she should talk to. The gloves did little to keep away the blisters, but the hot sun and the ache in her back as she wheeled another barrow of pungent soil from one place to another did plenty to keep her from thinking about things she didn’t want to think about.

At the top of the list was the fact that the summer was a warmup. That a little more than a year later, Juliet would leave her behind for the long term.

When school started again, she worked to claw her way out of solitude and promised herself she’d make some friends her own age. That part came more easily than she expected—Hugo was always glad to spend more time with her, and Sun had a sweet, humorous presence. Being around her didn’t give Kate the desperate, grating feeling in her stomach she’d learned to associate with having other girls as friends.

Juliet would’ve denied it, if Kate listed the changes she noticed in her when she got back at the end of her summer away. So Kate kept her mouth shut. But there were new clothes that fit her better, made her look tall like a runway model instead of lanky. She started wearing her hair down instead of in a braid.

Still she wore little in the way of makeup, never building up a collection anywhere near the size of Rachel’s. But whenever there was a party, she at least donned the expensive pink lip gloss she liked. Once in awhile, a touch of mascara, too. Even just that touch was enough to make her eyes so luminous that Kate struggled to look right at them.

She started spending more time with James, too—a lot more. Kate had already asked too many times what was going on between them, and it was always hard to hold herself back from asking again. The one area where she couldn’t keep her mouth shut, no matter how hard she tried.

The mascara was making an appearance for Marc Silverman’s Valentine’s Day Extravaganza—a famous event, at his and Sarah’s school. She and Jack were guests of honor, so Jack got to invite as many friends as he wanted. Kate, Juliet, and James, of course, as well as Hugo, Sun, Jin, and Miles.

Kate and Juliet got ready with Sun, and Juliet drove them there. Barring a true emergency, everyone who attended had to stay over. Marc’s dad was a lawyer, and he refused to accept the liability of drunk teenage drivers leaving from his house. (Either the liability of underage drinking was less of a concern to him, or it was just something he’d accepted as inevitable.)

A parent deliberately leaving their house parentless—knowing that a party would be happening there? The concept was foreign to Kate, but she decided not to look the gift house in the mouth. It’d been several months since she and Juliet last had a sleepover, and she had a cold, foreboding sense that the party might be one of their last chances to get anywhere close.

Marc’s house was modestly-sized, but it was tucked away in the woods. Far enough from any neighbors that noise complaints weren’t an issue. It had a warm, inviting interior, with vintage furniture and floors that weren’t quite level. Not unlike Juliet’s house, but more intimate. More storybook than palatial.

As soon as they arrived, Juliet ran off to find James. Poured two Malibu-and-milk’s on her way over to where he sat in the living room, and just the sight of the drinks in her hands was enough to make Kate gag. She got halfway through deciding whether she should follow, feeling wary of the potential for Juliet and James to start the conversation with an inside joke, or some reference Kate would have to pretend to understand.

Before she could finish making her decision, Sun dragged her into the dining room to play beer pong with Hugo and Jin. “Dragged,” but that was exactly the sort of thing Kate usually ended up doing at parties. An activity that required little talking, and one where the sparse sips she took of her beer on the side wouldn’t be noticeable.

(They didn’t actually play with beer in the cups, since Marc’s dad was married to Marc’s mom. Who would have a conniption—Marc’s word—if they spilled anything more than water on the hardwood floors.)

Not-beer pong was certainly a far better option than “I Never,” whose cadence Kate thought she sensed emanating from the living room.

She and Hugo took the game seriously, but Sun and Jin seemed more interested in staring at each other from either end of the long table. Smiling, then trying to pretend they weren’t smiling. Kate and Sun pulled ahead at first, since Jin also seemed reluctant to win.

But Hugo was the ringer—the struggles he’d always faced playing horse served him well in a near-range, accuracy-based game. The match came down to rebuttals, after Kate sunk their last cup easily.

“Okay, this one’s for all the marbles,” said Hugo before his shot, rubbing the ping pong ball between his hands. Kate and Sun jeered at him and started shouting out random numbers as a distraction.

He glared as he sucked in a huge breath, then lobbed a delicate shot before he let the breath out. The ball arced right into their last remaining cup.

“Bingo!” he shouted, shooting his arms straight up in the air. Jin laughed and hooked an arm around his neck.

“Hurley! Hurley! Hurley!” Jin chanted, and soon about a dozen other people joined in, most of whom hadn’t been aware of the win or even that they were playing in the first place.

“Chivalry is dead!” complained Sun with a scoff. She drained the last of her drink and pulled on Kate’s arm. “Come on Kate, let’s go outside.”

“Hey, we offered to shoot from two steps back!” Hurley called after them, his voice fading as they crossed through the buzzing kitchen. “You can’t have it both ways!”

It was freezing out, but it got decided they should give it at least five minutes to ensure their point was proven. They leaned against the deck railing, bouncing up and down to keep their blood moving.

The group in the living room had moved from their previous positions on the floor around the coffee table to gather up on the furniture. The Lord of the Rings film score rang out from the sound system, muffled only slightly by the sliding glass door. Sun eyed the audience inside for a moment before turning to Kate.

“I know I’ve asked you this, but are James and Juliet dating?” she asked. The clicking together of her teeth made the words stutter out.

The two of them were sitting next to each other on the couch, watching the movie intently. Not doing anything conspicuous, but their thighs were touching. Even though there was, perhaps, enough room on either side of them for some space to be left there without the separation seeming unnatural.

“Not since I last checked,” said Kate. Her voice sounded crabbier than she'd meant it to. “Unless she’s lying to me about it.”

“Why would she do that?”

Kate shrugged. “Beats me.”

Jin showed up at the door then, looking all but forlorn. Kate gave Sun a gentle shove in his direction, hesitating just a moment in the cold before she followed her.

In an effort to stay as far from the living room as possible, Kate approached the corner of the kitchen where Marc, Jack, and Sarah were preparing more drinks. She hadn’t really talked to any of them yet, anyway.

“Hey,” she said with a wave. Sarah trotted over and gave her a hug.

“Oh my god, it’s so good to see you,” she said all in a rush. “I am so bored of talking about basketball.”

Kate laughed, and scolded Jack with a wag of her finger. Pointing out Jin’s relatively gentleman-like behavior as an example for him to follow.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he chuckled. “Sarah gets mad when I try to let her win at things, though.”

“Only because you make it too obvious,” said Sarah.

Jack offered her one of the drinks he was making, but Kate declined. Even just the beer-and-a-half she’d nursed during the pong game was enough to make her skin feel tight and uncomfortable, and the space between her ears a little too big.

Their conversation turned to something not exactly basketball-related, but still close enough for Sarah to protest. Kate stopped listening, and couldn’t stop herself from looking over her shoulder toward the living room.

Her stomach dropped out. Juliet, James—both gone. Not visible in the kitchen, or in the half of the dining room Kate could see through the hallway. And the movie was still playing. Without a doubt, one of them had been the one to put it on. It might have been a conspiracy, even. They wouldn’t leave it for just anything.

She tried to take long, steady breaths as she made an excuse to Sarah, feeling grateful that Jack was too entrenched in the almost-basketball conversation to require more than a quick smile and wave from her.

There was a bathroom right off the kitchen, and she almost entered it. But she felt like she might throw up, and she didn’t want anyone to hear. So she decided to go through the hallway and up to the bathroom up on the second floor instead.

Maybe she would see James and Juliet in the hallway—just talking. That might make her feel better, and then she could say hello to them and go find Hugo.

They weren’t there, though, so she clenched her jaw and ran upstairs. Thick carpet against her stocking feet, dimmer switch on the landing set low. A quiet that she couldn’t hear anything through. The bathroom was right there, but once more she couldn’t stop herself.

No sound, all the doors shut. But one wasn’t latched. That one, she hovered in front of with her hand lightly against it. Until a sound inside—a sneeze, she realized after her heart had settled back down—startled that hand into nudging the door open.

A lamp was switched on beside the bed. James never slept with the light off. Not a coincidence—there he was. Clearly, mercifully all alone in the narrow twin. With a grunt he rolled over to face her.

Kate let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, then she hissed his name across the room. It took a few tries before he stirred.

“What d’you want?” he grumbled without opening his eyes.

“Where’s Juliet?” she asked. Still whispering, even though James hadn’t.

He waved one arm grossly in the direction of the headboard. “Den. End of the hall.”

The door shut loud enough to get a complaint out of him, but Kate didn’t bother apologizing. She tip-toed as fast as she could to the last room and burst right in.

Juliet was lying dead center on the opened futon, a makeshift nest of blankets all around her. She wasn’t asleep—she’d been staring at the ceiling with her hands clasped over her stomach. Moonlight streamed in all around her.

Right away, her eyes darted over to Kate and she bolted her arms tight to her sides.

For a moment it was quiet. Then Juliet said, “Hi,” dragging out the word and trailing it up like she meant it as a question.

“Can I come in?”

She nodded and moved to the side a little, lifting up one corner of the blanket atop her.

Kate hesitated. “Oh, I just meant—”

“I know what you meant.”

Getting right under the covers with her after not speaking for the last several hours would’ve felt strange enough to Kate. Coupled with the turmoil she’d just undergone, compressed into a minute or two? Forget it. But she didn’t want Juliet to feel bad, so she eased the door shut and perched on the edge of the futon as a compromise.

Juliet watched her as if waiting for her to say something. Kate chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to work up the courage to ask what she wanted to know without posing the exact same questions she’d asked several times each in the last six months.

Maybe turning them into yes or no questions was the mistake. So she tried something more open-ended.

“Why do you and James hang out so much?”

She balked. That was a change, at least. Whenever Kate asked her simply if they were dating, or hooking up, or engaged in some other similar arrangement, she gave an immediate “no” with a calm expression on her face.

“Because we’re friends? I don’t know. Why do you and I hang out so much?”

Kate sighed. “But we don’t hang out that much.”

“We used to,” she said, her voice a little quieter.

“Yeah,” said Kate. She tugged at a loose thread on one of the blankets, until she felt a kick against her hand.

“You’re gonna pull the whole thing out.”

She tugged at it harder, but no second kick came.

Without looking up Kate asked, “You would tell me, right? If the two of you were dating?”

“Of course I would,” said Juliet.

“Well, have you ever kissed?”

Juliet cleared her throat and waited a moment to answer. “Um, yeah. Once.”

Kate’s head snapped up, and Juliet struggled away from her gaze. “What? When?”

“Oh, a couple years ago,” she said. Her voice came out thready, like she was trying hard to sound nonchalant. “It was when you and Jack were still together. We were all in his basement, and you two went off to a closet or something. So we figured, why not see what all the fuss was about?”

She shifted a little, and cleared her throat again. “We’d talked about it, before. About trying it. It just seemed like the right opportunity.”

Kate gaped at her. “What? Why would you… talk about trying it? If you liked each other, why wouldn’t you just kiss?”

Juliet rubbed a finger along her brow before meeting her eyes, finally. The blush blooming on her face was unmistakable in the moonlight, even if it didn’t quite show up as pink.

She started off with a big, exasperated sigh, and the words came out the same sort of way. “We didn’t kiss because we liked each other. It was… an experiment.”

Kate couldn’t keep from laughing. “So what, your first kiss was something you did as a science project? God, you’re seriously such a nerd.”

“James wasn’t my first kiss,” Juliet said.

No laughter at all was in her voice, and the way her stare seemed to dig in ten feet deeper made Kate’s die right off.

“That didn’t count,” said Kate quickly. Her voice’s turn, to fight for nonchalance.

“Not according to the results of me and James’ experiment,” said Juliet. "But I'd be willing to try another one with you, to double check."

She sat up, and scooted over so her hip pressed against Kate’s. No need for it—plenty of room on either side.

Even through the covers, Kate could feel how warm she was.

Her t-shirt hung unevenly on her neck, exposing one end of her collarbone. The skin there twitched in rapid time with her pulse. Hair tied up loosely, a few strands around her face. Curls that you could wrap right around your finger. She’d washed off the mascara, but her eyes still shone brightly.

Cloud of rain-flower scent, punctuated with coconut rum.

With her hand turned palm-side up she traced her knuckles up the inner line of Kate’s arm, making her shiver. She stopped when she reached her shoulder and gripped her there—gentle but steady. Like she was ready to remove it if needed, but she’d rather not.

“You can tell me to stop,” she whispered as she tilted her head closer.

“I know,” said Kate, right before she kissed Juliet. A bit harder than she meant to, hard enough to make her gasp.

Her lips were softer than she remembered—maybe an effect of all the lip gloss. Maybe just time and age and the world around them growing harder by measure. All of Juliet seemed soft, really. Jumpy breaths rounded out like rolling hills. The mild angle of the hand holding Kate at the neck, cushions of the fingers weaving up into her hair.

Then there were the other parts of her—the ones Kate was almost afraid to let herself imagine. Hinted at by the hip still pressing into hers. Sure to be soft, softer, softest.

Distantly Kate realized there were footsteps in the hallway. Other party-goers, finding places to sleep for the night. Some part of her gave a warning to cut it out, sure that someone would burst into the room the same way she had earlier.

She’d been in a similar position several times before with Jack, and that warning wasn’t used to being ignored. Normally she heeded it right away, even though she’d liked kissing him.

She’d liked kissing Jack. But she needed to keep kissing Juliet.

And then Juliet pulled away.

“We should wait. All those people, and we were drinking…” she trailed off, looking at Kate with her lip between her teeth. The visible intent in her eyes not quite matching what she’d said.

For a second Kate felt herself responding only to her expression, and she was already leaning in again when the words caught up to her.

She froze before backing up, and nodded several times. “Oh—yeah. Yeah, definitely.”

Juliet smiled and gave a low snort. She removed her fingers from Kate’s hair, and the light touch of them against her neck made her shiver again. Then she moved back to the center of the futon and lifted up the blankets again, more pointedly.

“I still have to brush my teeth,” said Kate with a long sigh. Like it was the biggest tragedy she could be faced with right then.

“Me, too,” she said. “We’ll go later, okay?”

Kate was glad she’d worn something comfortable instead of dressing up. Her bag with her pajamas and toothbrush felt a million miles away. Two million, once she’d settled into the warmth of Juliet, radiating not just from her hip but her shoulder and her waist and the length of her thigh.

Three million, when Juliet shifted onto her side and put one arm across Kate’s stomach. Four million, when Kate turned on her side, too, and moved in closer. Close enough to feel Juliet's breath tickling the nape of her neck, to feel the softness of her against her back.

Five million, when they woke up to harsh sunlight with their mouths tasting sour. But they laughed about it as they climbed out from under the blankets, and that made the whole ordeal feel worth the trouble.

* * * * *

In the bathroom mirror they watched each other while they brushed their teeth, and Kate wondered how long was long enough to wait to kiss her again. Again, there were people around, and this time they were kicking up instead of winding down. Juliet would be driving Sun home, and even after that they’d still be in the car. There in the open, windows clear as day. Outside Kate’s front door, by the end of the road.

Should she ask Juliet if they could go over to her house, or was that too aggressive? It felt unfamiliar, the position she was in. She’d always been taught how to say no. How to dispel people who thought about her the way she was currently thinking about Juliet. No one had taught her how to dispel the thoughts themselves, or if she was even supposed to.

This sort of labyrinth got carved into her mind over and over, all throughout packing up her things and greeting everyone downstairs. Even as she helped Marc, Sarah, and Jack tidy up the kitchen, while Juliet waited eagerly by the front door.

A flurry was just starting when they finally made it out to the driveway. Juliet breathed hard into her hands as she slid into the driver’s seat, then turned the ignition and immediately cranked the fan as high as it would go. Cold air shot out of the vents, making Sun and Kate squeal.

It was the way Juliet smiled at their reaction before she asked if they wanted to get breakfast, that made Kate unable to wait any longer. She beamed, so big. And Kate was right there, with her elbow on the center console—already she’d set herself up to be as close to Juliet as possible.

So she only had to move her head an inch or two to give Juliet a kiss on the cheek, interrupting her sentence. It startled her into jerking back a bit, and she looked at Kate with a rare, truly surprised expression. So different from her usual teasing stare.

Then the smile returned, before Juliet put her hands on Kate’s face and kissed her back on the lips. Giggling against her mouth while she did. Sun gasped and said something to herself about a bet with Jin, but she switched back and forth between English and Korean throughout the statement.

It wasn’t likely Kate or Juliet would’ve absorbed the words if they could understand them all, anyway.

There was sound from outside, loud enough to get them to break apart. It came from James—a big whooping noise, and he was pointing through the windshield with one hand. With the other he pumped a fist into the air before saying something to Jin. Maybe having to do with the same wager Sun had mentioned.

Juliet turned to Kate and rolled her eyes before switching the car into reverse.

“I’m up for breakfast,” said Sun brightly.

“Yeah, let’s go,” said Kate.

They pulled out onto the narrow rural road, and Kate was more grateful than usual that Juliet was as good at driving as she was at most everything she set her mind to. Since that made it so she could keep one hand on the console, holding on tight to Kate’s the whole way there.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Islandless AU