Chapter Text
It’s supposed to be a senior party. They’re celebrating the football team’s homecoming win with a late night bonfire, hot dogs, s’mores, and no alcohol (there are parents chaperoning). The absence of alcohol was the only reason Pete managed to drag her out here. She wasn’t a prude. She just had no desire to be arrested for underage drinking.
She still should’ve said no, though. A senior-hosted party meant only the more popular underclassmen were invited over, and Myka was anything but popular.
Stupid Pete and his stupid whine of “but Mykes, it’s my last homecoming party”. Now, she was stuck hiding by the tree line trying not to look out of place because her friend had abandoned her to flirt with a volleyball player.
That’s the last time she took his advice on what would be fun. She should be at home asleep. Or reading. God, curling up with The Pale Horse sounded so good right then. Or - as she watched the flames dance - Fahrenheit 451. It could be a themed reading night.
“You look positively bored.”
Myka jumped and looked to her right. A girl stood beside her. Myka had no idea where this girl had come from, how she had snuck up on her, or if she was even a student at their school. But her first concern was for the girl’s definitely-not-American accent.
“Who are you?”
The girl smiled. The fire pit threw lights and shadows over them in such a way that Myka couldn’t tell if the girl had black or brown eyes. But they were shining.
“You can call me Helena if you’d like.”
British. The girl’s accent sounded British.
“Okay.” Myka flattened a palm against the tree bark behind her. “Are you friends with someone on the football team?”
Helena’s gaze drifted over the other partygoers. “Not exactly.” She returned her eyes to Myka. “I believe I was invited because someone thought I was pretty.”
Did that someone change his mind? She shouldn’t be at the fringes of the party if someone was trying to hit on her.
“I wondered if you’d care to take a walk with me?” Helena pointed to the woods behind them. Myka knew there were trails out there - Pete had complained all summer about the team being forced to run them - but she hadn’t seen anyone walk back there tonight. She suspected they’d been declared out of bounds.
“We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Myka paused. “We don’t have flashlights.” That was a more logical and concrete answer. Less lame.
Helena smiled and leaned close. “But that’s part of the adventure.” She backed away and turned into a trail opening. Myka watched her disappear through the leaves before pushing off the tree and following. The girl looked over her shoulder and grinned when Myka entered. Then, the woods filled in to block the firelight, and the trail grew dark.
“You didn’t ask for my name.” Myka walked after the girl, navigating tree roots and crunching leaves in the low light. Helena never waited for her to catch up. She simply kept walking and expected Myka to follow.
“A rather helpful boy by the food table gave me it,” Helena said. “Your name’s Myka.”
“What boy?” Myka’s foot treaded over a loose rock. “Was it Pete?”
Now, Helena stopped. It made Myka stop, too. “Who’s Pete?”
Myka shook her head. “Never mind.”
Helena resumed her trek. Myka frowned and pushed to catch up.
“Ow!” she said when the ends of an unseen branch scratched her shoulder. “Where are we going?”
“I’m not sure. How far back does this trail go?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been out here.” Myka finally overtook the girl as they reached a divide in the trail.
“Let’s hope we don’t get lost then.” But Helena didn’t sound concerned as she continued down the path to the right.
“I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to be back here, you know,” Myka said.
“We’re not supposed to, yet we are.” Helena spun and stopped in front of Myka, forcing her to halt, too. “You are.”
Yes, but she didn’t know why.
“We should go back. We’ll get in trouble.”
Helena pouted. Or Myka thought she pouted: the shadows seemed to cloud her vision whenever she looked directly at the girl.
“But we’re already here. We might as well stay.” Helena stepped closer. “It’s so much quieter out here.”
Myka didn’t like the way her heart was racing. It was too quiet out here, too dark.
“We should go back,” she said just above a whisper. The woods were dampening her voice.
“Stay.” The girl’s hand brushed over Myka’s arm. Her fingers slid down over her forearm, her wrist, her palm. They pressed against Myka’s own fingers, smoothing and straightening them from where they were curling in.
Myka flexed her hand, but Helena didn’t remove hers. “What are you doing?”
“Convincing you to stay in these woods with me.”
“I don’t even know you.”
Helena moved even closer. “That’s what makes this fun.” Then, her lips pushed against Myka’s.
Her mind struggled to catch up. Myka pulled back. “What? What are you doing?”
“Asking if I can kiss you.”
“What - that’s not how you ask.”
Helena arched an eyebrow. “May I kiss you now?”
This was a joke. All those images of television clichés where the unsuspecting student is lured into a trap by someone pretty and popular flashed through her head. There could be people hiding in the trees, waiting for the moment to pop out and embarrass her. It was ridiculous and unfair because Myka had never even seen this girl before, let alone given her a reason to hurt her.
“What are you doing?” Anger laced her voice now. Myka was proud the reflex to cry stayed tamped down.
“Was that still not right?”
“No! Why are you doing this? Why did you bring me out here?” She backed away as she spoke, moving towards the entrance of the trail.
Helena watched her. “Why do you think I’m doing this?”
A neutral question, a curious question. No insinuation one way or another, and no one else was showing themselves. Myka shook her head.
“I don’t know.” She couldn’t think of a legitimate reason why someone would pull her away from a party into a darkened woods unless it involved Pete telling a ghost story. “I don’t know why I’m out here.”
Helena took a step forward. “I brought you here because you look bored.” - another step - “Like you didn’t belong with the rest.” She smiled at this point, so faint in the shadows. “And your curls are quite possibly the most darling thing I’ve ever seen.”
Myka’s hand flew up to her hair. She ran her fingers through it.
“I’m not good at styling them,” she mumbled. “My hair’s always a mess.”
“I think your hair is lovely.” Helena took a final step that brought her back within inches of Myka. “I think you’re lovely.”
“But.” This girl didn’t make any sense. “You don’t know me at all.”
“Nobody knows anyone. It's an impossibility.” Helena reached up and coiled a strand of Myka’s hair around her finger. “Your hair really is delightful.”
“So.” Myka cut off when Helena’s hand brushed against her cheek. She took a breath and tried again. “So, you don’t know me, but you still asked me out here to, what? Just to make out with me?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
Helena’s eyes flicked up. She was leaning so close now.
“Do you want to make out with me?”
Myka wanted to say no - that she didn’t do things like that, that wasn’t her game - but she couldn’t remember the reasons why.
“I haven’t kissed a girl before.” There. That was supposed to be a reason, wasn’t it?
Helena smiled. “There’s a first time for everything.” She crossed the final inches, and Myka held still. She let the girl press her lips to hers again, let them move to part between hers, let the hand still twisted in her hair clasp her face and adjust their angle. She brought her hands up to grasp the girl’s waist and let her push in closer.
And every moment Helena kissed her, Myka let herself surrender just a little bit more.
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She never told Pete about the woods.
She never told him about Helena, either. By the time they’d left the party, it was already feeling surreal - more like the remnants of a dream than something that really happened. So she made excuses and turned Pete’s teases around on him until he was defending his love of salt and vinegar potato chips and the original conversation had been long lost. She only thought back to the woods as she fell asleep that night. The rest of the weekend was filled with work and avoiding the homecoming dance.
On Monday afternoon, she spotted the girl across the hallway.
Myka froze in her tracks. She felt her head swim and heart race.
It hadn’t been a dream. Helena wasn’t a figment of her imagination. She was very much real and solid and looking impossibly better in the bright lights of the school than the dull shadows of the trees. Her smooth hair glittered, and a smile shone in her eyes. Myka still couldn’t see what color they were.
Breathing became an issue. Myka realized her lungs were only going through the motions. They seemed to have forgotten the step where oxygen was collected. She forced a deep breath to remind them.
The girl looked down the hall and caught her gaze.
This was where she should run.
But her feet had forgotten their function, too, and Myka was left stranded in the hallway staring at the girl she’d somehow made out with at a senior party. It was so abnormal, it felt fictional.
Yet, Helena was still there, holding her stare with a slight smile tugging at her lips. Like a smirk, but it didn’t fill Myka’s stomach with dread.
A locker slammed nearby and made her jump. When she gathered herself and glanced back, Helena was gone. She didn’t see her for the rest of the day.
She thought of the woods again that night. Replayed every step as she fell asleep.
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Myka was pulling Pete along the school’s sidewalk.
He shuffled his feet and moaned that it was inhuman to arrive at school an hour before bell. If she didn’t keep him moving, he would likely sprawl out at the base of the wall and sleep his way through first hour. She was tempted to let him do just that when he decided he was too tired to scale the three inch step into the school, but he was a fellow member of the Honors Society and, thus, required for this morning meeting.
She jerked him inside by his shirt, and he tripped and lost hold of his lunch box. Myka scooped it up from the sidewalk before he could complain. As she rose, her eyes caught sight of someone leaning against a car in the near-empty parking lot.
It was Helena with some guy Myka only recognized as a football player. They were making out.
“You dropped my - hey, who’s that with Ryan?”
“Nobody.” She tried giving him the lunch box, but Pete pushed past her to be out on the sidewalk again.
“Hey, Ryan!” he yelled. “You’re going to be late to weights!”
The only response was Ryan flipping Pete off over his shoulder. Pete laughed.
Myka shoved the lunch box at him, not caring if he dropped it again, and speed-walked away. Her teeth clenched and something like anger or bitterness roiled through her stomach. This was why she didn’t play those games, the ones played for fun or revenge or whatever else her classmates played them for. They were stupid and never meant anything. Myka had bigger things to do. She had a neighborhood trick-or-treating event to plan with the Honors Society.
She had no reason to think about Helena.
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Lunge. Thrust. Keep her wrist straight. Step back. Parry. Parry.
Nobody was in the smaller gymnasium this morning. Just Myka, practicing her fencing. It was one of those rare mornings where she wasn't in the mood to practice. She'd stayed up late the night before, finishing a trigonometry assignment and editing a history paper. Today, she was tired and lethargic and only wanted to curl back up in bed. As a compromise with herself, she was practicing without full gear. At least she wouldn't have to shower before school started.
She pretended she heard someone behind her and swung around to fend off the imaginary foe. Her eyes grew wide.
Someone really had been behind her. Helena stood with her hands held up and looked somewhere between stunned and amused by the semi-sharp point at her neck. Myka would be in so much trouble if anyone walked in and saw them like this. She'd be written up for pointing swords at other students and for not wearing her proper gear; she'd be banned from ever practicing at the school again. She needed to lower her arm, but something made her tighten her grip and hold the sabre out a second longer than shock could explain. Then, she dropped her arm to the side.
"Sorry. I didn't know you were there."
Helena looked far too calm as she lowered her arms as well and stuck her hands in her coat pockets. "It's alright. Clearly my fault for approaching a person swinging a sword."
"Sabre," Myka corrected. She turned back to the wall she'd been focusing on and hoped the girl would leave.
She didn't.
"I didn't know they taught fencing at this school."
"They don't." Myka didn't feel like explaining how she took classes at the local Y, how the school bought her a warm-up jacket and let her practice in the gym because they wanted to claim credit for her achievements.
Myka gritted her teeth and practiced another lunge. She willed herself to keep her form, to not appear self-conscious or mess up just because someone was watching.
"You look good," Helena said, before crossing to the door and finally leaving. Myka glared after her and imagined hurling the sabre at the girl's back.
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"Now, how could a girl require a library to read when her father owns an entire bookstore?"
Myka looked up and frowned as Helena sat down in the chair across from her.
"I like reading in peace." A not-so-subtle hint for the girl to leave. "And how do you know my father owns a bookstore?"
Helena shrugged. "Myka Bering. Bering & Sons. It wasn't terribly difficult to work out."
That answer only brought more questions. Like, how did she learn her last name?
"Why are you here? School's out. Go home."
Infuriatingly, Myka's coldness made Helena smile.
"School is out, which brings us back to my question: why are you reading here in the library?"
She refused to defend her reading habits to this girl. "Mrs. Keller stays until four." The librarian's habits were safer to discuss.
Helena's eyes perused the room. "Do they have anything interesting here?"
Myka shrugged and returned to The Grapes of Wrath. "You can look."
"But I suspect you're more of a book expert than me, and I could so use an expert opinion."
"I'm busy."
"With, let's see... John Steinbeck. Is he any good?"
Myka huffed, but wouldn't say anything. A long minute of silence passed where she had to reread a paragraph - twice - because she was so irritated.
"Alright." Helena finally stood up. "I'll leave you to your reading."
As the girl walked away, Myka felt relief and something that was definitely not guilt. It didn't matter that she was rude and chased the girl off. The only person who could make her feel guilty for ignoring them was Pete, and even that was only on occasion.
She glanced up at the library doorway to see Helena standing there like she'd been waiting. The girl smiled - an annoying, knowing smile that made as little sense as everything else she'd done - and then disappeared.
Myka gave up reading The Grapes of Wrath a few minutes later.
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It was Friday. The one day Myka was allowed to drive the car to school. She clutched the straps of her backpack while waiting for some people to pull out before she crossed the school drive. She loved Fridays. They meant she had full control over the music choice.
She wove between vehicles, debating if she should switch albums from this morning, and didn't notice anything different about her mother's car until she was a few steps away.
"Are you still angry with me?"
Helena sat upon the hood of the car, leaning back on her elbows like she owned the vehicle. Beneath the confusion and the frustration, Myka had to wonder again just how Helena knew where she would be.
"I'm not angry. I just don't like you." Myka ignored the arched eyebrow in response and walked over to the driver's side. Helena beat her there and slid between her and the door.
"Yes, you do. That's why you're angry with me."
Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Myka was not one of those clingy girls who got upset when they were dropped or ignored after one exchange. In fact, she was irritated because Helena wouldn't leave her alone.
"I have to go. I'm going to be late." She tried reaching around to the door handle, but Helena wouldn't move.
"Where are you going?"
"I volunteer at the hospital, and I have to be there by three-thirty." Still, she wouldn't budge. "You need to move."
"The grades, the extracurriculars - aren't you the perfect university candidate," Helena murmured. It struck a nerve with Myka.
"I'm not just doing it to look good on college applications. That's not enough. You have to look focused. I'm volunteering at the hospital because I want to study pre-med." She crossed her arms because she felt like she'd given away too much - certainly more than she'd meant to, but this girl annoyed her and then words just seemed to pour out.
Why did Helena always look so calm during these encounters?
"What time are you finished?"
"No."
"I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with no-o'clock."
"I'm not telling you what time I finish because I don't want you sitting on my car again at the hospital or calling me because you magically got my number." Helena smiled again, and this one did fill her with dread.
"You have my number already, don't you? Unbelievable." Myka pushed for the door handle, and Helena slid out of the way this time.
"What if I want to spend time with you?"
"Well, I don't want to spend time with you." She tossed her bag into the passenger seat.
"Myka."
Something in her tone made her look up. She met Helena's eye, and the girl looked genuine, like she honestly wanted to spend time with her. Myka didn't understand.
"Wells."
"What?"
"My name," the girl repeated. "It's Helena Wells."
Helena Wells with very dark brown eyes. It was a stupid observation to make, but they were staring and Myka couldn't help but notice. She rubbed the back of her neck and leaned away. Helena stood patiently across from her with the car door hanging open between them.
"I usually stay until the lab closes at six. But I'm officially done at five." She held the girl's gaze and tried not to let her nerves show.
"I'll see you at five, then."
Myka swallowed.
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Helena wasn't sitting on top of the car when Myka walked out of the hospital. She was sitting in the car.
"Interesting choice to lock only the driver's side," Helena said through the open window.
Myka dropped her shoulders and frowned down at the key fob that had failed her once again. "I know I hit the button. This thing must need new batteries." She almost tested it in the parking lot, but then figured that would be silly with Helena waiting in the car.
"So, where are we going?" Helena asked when Myka slid in behind the wheel.
"I don't know." She might have been distracted at work, but that didn't mean she'd managed to plan anything for this... whatever this was. "I have an hour before my parents will expect me home."
She wasn't surprised Helena had more of a plan. "What's some place we can be alone?"
Myka drove them to the high school baseball field. It was the first place she thought of that would be empty at five pm in October. Helena seemed okay with this choice, but then, she never really seemed not okay.
She also seemed amused. She scrunched up her nose as she stepped through the fence and scanned the dusty field.
"So this is where you play your baseball."
Myka assumed she was referring to Americans, in general.
"Yeah." Myka walked onto the field behind her. "The bases are all put up right now, though. Baseball is a spring sport."
Helena wandered over towards the pitcher's mound. The rubber looked to be in storage, too, so it was difficult to tell where the player was supposed to stand. She turned back to Myka, nose still wrinkled in puzzlement. "But how is this a field?"
"I don't know." She kicked at the dirt and found the hole for third base. "It makes more sense when it's all set up." Though, if she didn't know the rules... "Maybe. Kind of." She moved to shake off the vague rambling. "Home plate should still be out."
It was. Myka found the scuffed white peeking through the brown. Helena met her at the spot.
"Home plate." The girl glanced up at her. "The inspiration for all those sporting metaphors."
Now, Myka was puzzled.
"Let me see, I believe we've experienced first base."
Oh. Oh. Panic flooded Myka as she remembered who she was with and why they were here.
"What is that?" Helena pointed behind her. The abruptness confused Myka all over again.
"What is what? The dugout?"
There was the nose scrunch, again. "The dugout?" She walked away, and Myka followed her inside the visitor's bench.
"It's where the team sits."
Helena examined the metal shelter and bench, looked over the fence protecting the team from foul balls. Then, she walked back over to Myka.
"And what happens in the dugout?"
Myka was about to explain some more when Helena's arms slid up and around her neck and made her breath catch. They were back on sports metaphors.
"Um." She felt dizzy seeing Helena this close (and in the daylight). She took a breath to steel herself. "I guess we'll find out."
Helena grinned at her answer and leaned in.
.
Apparently, tongues happened in the dugout.
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Myka wondered all weekend what Monday would bring. Would Helena ignore her? Would she seek her out?
- Would she not see Helena at all?
That's how the day seemed to go. Myka didn't catch so much of a glimpse of her during school. She thought the girl might be avoiding her, but then, as she walked with Pete to his football practice, a voice interrupted their conversation.
"Myka! Oh, there you are."
Helena rushed over to them. Myka bit her lip at the butterflies that swirled through her.
"I was afraid you'd be gone before I could catch you," Helena said. "You offered to help with my maths, and I was hoping you would have some time now."
"Uh, yeah. Yes. I'm free." Myka folded her arms across her ribs and fought down a grin.
"Calculus, huh?" Pete motioned at Helena's book. "You know, Myka here," - he slung a heavy arm around Myka's neck, and she glared over at him - "is still in trig - not her fault. She's only a junior. I, however, am kind of a calculus expert."
"You're in pre-calc, and I had to help you with your homework last week."
Pete dropped his arm and deflated. "Mykes! I was trying to, you know."
Oh, Myka did know. "Go to practice."
"Alright, alright." He pointed at Helena. "But hey, if you ever need any other tutoring."
"Pete!"
"I'm going!" He disappeared into the gym.
Sometimes, Myka would simply roll her eyes at Pete's flirting. Other times, she actually wanted to beat the shit out of him.
She sensed Helena step in closer.
"Hello."
Her glower fell into a soft smile, and the butterflies came back. "Hi."
"You don't have to rush anywhere, do you?"
Myka shook her head. Helena's eyes shined.
"Good."
She hooked a finger through the strap of Myka's backpack and tugged. Myka wasn't sure where they were going or where they could go. School had always been for school, not making out (they were going to make out, right?). Helena led her to one of the stairwells and pulled her underneath where they'd be out of sight from the hallway. She set her textbook on the floor, and Myka slid off her backpack. Myka wanted to be the one who initiated this time and took a step forward. A thrill shot through her when Helena allowed herself to be backed against the wall.
"Hi," Myka repeated, hands on Helena's waist, thumb running back and forth. She decided she liked the button-down shirts Helena always wore. They felt nice beneath her palms.
Helena smiled, one hand already toying with the curls hanging between them. Myka kissed her, and the hand slid around the back of her neck to pull her closer.
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Footsteps echoed through the stairwell and startled them. Helena's foot collided with Myka's bag.
"Shh!" Myka put her finger to Helena's mouth. Helena's eyes flicked to hers, and Myka nearly stopped breathing. It was the woods all over again with her eyes shaded more black than brown, but her expression was so much clearer here, so much easier to read.
Helena curled her hand around Myka's and kissed her finger. Once. Twice. Myka's hand loosened at the sensation of warm lips against all those nerve endings. Helena took advantage of this and moved down, kissing her other fingers, her palm.
They were kissing again before the footsteps were off the stairs.
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