Chapter Text
Natalie kicks the gravel off her boots as she steps onto her porch, ashing her cigarette out on the rotting porch, years of decay and neglect apparent. She fumbles with her keys, cursing under her breath. The air smells like warm asphalt and grass clippings, another boring summer day in New Jersey.
She pushes her front door open lazily and then walks straight to her bedroom, wanting a long peaceful nap after her shift at the bar.
When she enters the doorway to her room, she freezes abruptly.
Jackie Taylor is standing in her bedroom, wearing a scrunchie on her wrist and one of those pastel little cardigans over a tank top she probably woke up early to color coordinate for. Jackie's polished, clean and glossy look is so out-of-place in her messy room Natalie is stunned silent for a couple of seconds.
Clothes litter the floor of her room, trash overflowing from her mini trash can she sometimes remembers she has. Her ash tray is full and empty beer bottles are embarrassingly lying in her bed. This would be just another day in her room if it wasn't for Jackie in the middle of it sorting her dirty laundry into different piles.
"…What the hell." is all Natalie comes up with. Sure, Jackie was her soccer captain all throughout high school, hell, the Yellowjackets even won Nationals, but they were never more than teammates. To see her uninvited in her room is jarring to say the least.
Jackie looks up and smiles casually, like this is an everyday occurrence.
"I was wondering when you were coming back Nat, I was getting worried. I'm separating your darks and lights, don't you know you can't wash them all together? The colors will bleed together."
Jackie says this with the same disgusted pout she often used to make at practice when a teammate would show up late, or not give their all.
Natalie drops her bag on the floor and huffs out, "What the hell are you doing in my house..?"
"I'm helping you," Jackie says like it's obvious. "Your room's like a disaster zone. There are two old slices of pizza under your bed, and I swear one of them is green."
Natalie blinks at her, unsure if she's still high from her walk home earlier or if this is actually happening. "How did you even get in here? The fuck?”
Jackie shrugs, "Your back door's unlocked. Also, the screen's ripped, so maybe fix that before someone sketchy comes in and tries to murder you."
Natalie balks, "You're the sketchy person I should watch out for. You broke into my house to, what, play maid?"
Jackie rolls her eyes. "Don't be dramatic, it's not like I'm a total random. Don't think of it as breaking and entering, it's like… supervising."
"Supervising what, exactly?"
"Your life." Jackie says, fluffing a pillow like she's in a Southern Living magazine. "Or trying to, I'm your captain."
"The soccer season ended eight months ago, Jackie."
Jackie shrugs again, nonchalant. "Leadership never ends."
"That's a cult like thing to say."
Jackie sits on the edge of Natalie’s bed, legs crossed like she owns the place. "Look, I know you don’t care about any of this right now, folding laundry, eating properly, not sleeping in jeans. But you were a part of the team, and as your former captain, I'm gonna pick up the slack."
Natalie finally steps further into the room, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. "Why do you even care?"
For a moment, Jackie’s perfect smile falters. She glances away, back at the messy pile of Natalie’s notebooks on the floor.
"I don’t know," she says softly. "Maybe because you act like no one’s supposed to."
A beat passes.
Natalie swallows, throat suddenly dry. She can’t remember the last time someone cleaned something for her without wanting something in return. Or stayed in her room longer than a night.
She exhales, eyes flicking to Jackie’s hand resting on the comforter. Clean, French-tipped nails. Hands that should look out of place in this mess. But they don’t.
"I was gone for a couple of hours." Natalie says. "That’s how long it took you to invade my life."
Jackie grins. "You call it invading, I call it efficiency."
Natalie looks at her. Long and hard. Jackie meets her gaze and doesn’t flinch.
"…You touch my cigarettes, and I’ll burn your parents’ fancy house down."
"Deal."
is all Jackie replies with, her smile like a mischievous cat who just got the cream.