Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

If there was ever a night for Jecka to not abandon Nicole on, it’s tonight. Kelly’s house parties are historically awful for everybody who isn’t a horny boy using alcohol as an excuse to get handsy; she invites whatever perverted freak she’s been fucking lately, and he just has to invite his adult friends, because apparently high schoolers are the perfect girlfriends for 24-year-old truckers with matted beards and neck tattoos, and everybody just has to deal with them like they’re not going to prison for kidnapping and murder in a couple months.

And Jecka thinks she’s the one who needs help.

Tonight’s no different – if anything, it’s worse. For one, Kyler’s here, and when he’s not selling oxy or bullying Jeffrey, he’s saying shit that makes Nicole want to die. Normally passed out Kyler is a little better than drunk Kyler, but the fact that he’s humping the couch in his sleep has her really wanting to kill herself.

Ari keeps trying to talk to her too. Sure, the attention is nice, but she really can’t deal with her stuttering like this when it’s obvious what she’s trying to get at. She almost feels bad telling her to fuck off.

Somehow worse than all of that is that she’s sober. She’d left her stash at home tonight, trusting Jecka to come through with her titty-Xanax, but now she’s disappeared.

The scornful part of her brain tells her it’s probably to fuck some guy for cheaper drugs. Bitch.

Nicole needs to take it out on someone, so she sells Crispin a bag of crushed up Tylenol and tells him it’s molly. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make her feel anywhere near as good as bullying usually does, because she doesn’t even have anybody to shit talk him with when he starts stumbling around like he’s seeing monsters.

And now Megan’s coming this way. God, could this night get any fucking worse-

“Nicole,” Megan greets coldly.

“I’m not selling you shit, Megan,” Nicole waves her off. “You purity ring bitches always get way too attached to your first dealers. I’m not babysitting you-“

Megan sighs. “I’m not here to buy drugs, bitch. Jecka’s drunk and she’s been crying for you for the past ten minutes. She finally tired me out enough to go get you.”

The thought makes Nicole’s heart pang. She chokes it down easily enough. “She’s not off with some dude?”

“No. She’s fucking wasted in Kelly’s room and I’ve been making sure she doesn’t burn the place down. Can you hurry up?”

Nicole stands. “Uh, did she ask you to do that?”

Megan stares at her, deadpan. “Just move, bitch.”

-

Jecka is sat on the floor leaning against the frame of Kelly’s bed. Her face is flushed, her hair is messy, and it makes Nicole feel a little crazy that she still looks hot as fuck.

There’s also the way she lights up when she sees Nicole, which-

No, she’s not thinking about that. Jecka still ditched her, and left her sober.

“Nicole!” She slurs, and Nicole’s resolve wavers.

“God, you are wasted. What the fuck, Jecka?”

Jecka pouts and tilts her head before turning to Megan. “Okay, can you leave now?”

“Fucking whores,” Megan mutters as she leaves.

Jecka sighs happily. She pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and pats the spot on the ground next to her.

“Do I look like a bitch who sits on the floor?”

“You look like a bitch who needs a smoke,” Jecka grins.

“Whatever,” Nicole plucks the dart from Jecka’s mouth and puts it in her own as she sits. “Thank fuck,” she says when the spins hit her.

Jecka giggles. She watches Nicole intently, before resting her head on Nicole’s shoulder. She takes a lock of Nicole’s hair in her hand and begins twirling it, and Nicole has to remind herself the Jecka is always handsy when she’s this drunk.

(She shuts out the more rational part of her brain that reminds her that Jecka has only ever been this handsy with her.)

“I fucking hate Mom friends,” Jecka complains when she takes the dart back. She turns away from Nicole to exhale, only to press back into Nicole when she’s finished. “She kept taking away my drinks and saying stuff like, ‘don’t smoke inside Jecka, Kelly’s gonna kill you.’ Like, as if I give a shit?”

Nicole lets her grin show for a second. “Kinda like how you took my drugs away?”

“Bitch, they’re in my bra, so they’re mine.” Jecka’s voice tickles Nicole’s throat. She shudders.

“Whatever, you still owe me. Why were you even hanging out with Megan?”

Jecka gags. “As if. Kelly was telling me some of her stories and, you know, slut solidarity so I had to listen, and then we went through like, three bottles of vodka each. She’s rich, you know? Megan only came after.”

“Fuck, I forgot about your porn addiction. That must’ve been great for you,” Nicole hums. In response, Jecka slaps her on the shoulder. “And you just had to go through all of it? Without me?”

Jecka doesn’t respond how she expects her to. Instead of arguing back, she buries her face in Nicole’s shoulder. “You know, you weren’t the only lonely one,” she slurs into her skin.

Nicole scoffs. “Lonely?”

Jecka hums, creating a sweet sensation as her voice vibrates against Nicole’s shoulder. She shivers again as Jecka tucks herself in deeper. “I missed you too.”

“I didn’t-“

“Don’t argue. Please.” Jecka’s voice turns sombre, and Nicole hates it.

She hates it so much that she listens. For a small moment, the only motion in the room is the cigarette being passed between the two of them, and Jecka’s hand in Nicole’s hair. Jecka’s breaths begin to even out, and with her chest pressing flush against Nicole’s side, Nicole feels herself sync to her rhythm, even as they take turns breathing smoke into the room.

“So,” Nicole whispers, when the vulnerability becomes too overwhelming. “Is this an alcohol makes me gay situation, or what?”

Jecka sighs. She pulls away from Nicole, who misses the contact immediately. Desperately, she wishes she could take the words back, but she finds she doesn’t need to.

Because Jecka, cigarette hanging alluringly from her mouth and sly grin on her face, clambers onto Nicole’s lap. She puts one leg on either side of Nicole’s, presses her chest forward, and leers at her.

Nicole’s heart stops. Her brain falters. Jecka can evidently see her struggle, because her grin stretches wider. “This is what it takes to get you to shut up, huh?”

Nicole recovers enough to speak. “I’m still sober, bitch. I’m not shutting up until-”

Jecka puts out the dart on Kelly’s bedstand, reaches under her dress into her bra – and, god, Nicole hadn’t registered just how low her dress was hanging on her, but fuck, if it isn’t distracting to see that.

She pulls out a pill – Xanax, Nicole recognises – and tauntingly holds it out. “Open,” she commands.

Nicole raises an eyebrow. “Make me.”

Jecka doesn’t budge. She holds out the pill, pushing her chest forward. It takes an effort to keep their eyes linked.

Eventually, Nicole gives in. She opens her mouth. Jecka’s hands are shaky, and she’s terribly coordinated in this state, but she’s still able to put the pill on Nicole’s tongue.

Nicole keeps her eyes on Jecka’s when she swallows. She blushes, and Nicole celebrates her victory by securing Jecka in her lap and sitting up, ensuring their eyes remain level.

“Happy?”

“For now,” Nicole admits.

Jecka giggles. She leans in, head swaying.

Nicole watches. “This is still pretty gay, Jecka.”

“I want you to make out with me, Nicole.”

Oh.

Nicole gulps, and not because, for probably the first time in her life, Nicole really does want to kiss somebody. She gulps because it’s Jecka, and she’s been letting these embarrassing fucking feelings grow for so long that she almost starts to expect it now – it had been so much easier to not feel, but Jecka makes her seem wrong for that.

This can only go one way, and Nicole dreads where it leads. At the same time, she wishes desperately she could let the thread unravel and follow it until its end.

But she can’t kiss her. Not like this.

“You’re drunk, Jecka,” she croaks.

“So?”

“What, do you think I’m a guy? I’m not kissing you while you’re fucked up like this.”

Jecka stares at her. Her face twists and shifts, from disbelief to something… sweet?

From her peripheral, Nicole hears the door creak, but she can’t bring herself to look.  Jecka’s eyes are so pretty. Nicole doesn’t know how she’s never noticed before.

“Bitch,” Jecka says, but it lacks any venom. She rests her head on Nicole’s shoulder, remaining on her lap.

“What?”

“…Gay bitch,” she corrects. “Wanting to kiss me back.”

Nicole ignores the red in her cheeks. “Shut the fuck up. You were the one who jumped me-”

“That is not what happened. I’m a more graceful slut than that,” Jecka slaps her shoulder, giggling. “Tell me about something fucked up you did tonight.”

“Aside from wanting to murder all the men Kelly invited?” Nicole hums, “I sold Tylenol to Crispin and told him it was molly. He started talking to the wall.”

Jecka laughs into the crook of her neck. “What the fuck?”

“It was all I could do. I can’t handle being around those creeps sober.”

“You’re better now, thanks to me,” Jecka winks, and Nicole thinks it’s not just about the drugs. “Is that all we’re missing out there?”

“Aside from some ugly pedophiles and Ari’s flirting, pretty much.”

“Ari’s flirting?”

Nicole groans. “It’s like… she just tries to talk normally, but you can tell she’s trying to fuck. No straight girl dyes her hair that shade of red, you know?”

Jecka giggles. She pulls away from Nicole’s embrace and gazes at her. “I love you,” she slurs, and then she presses a soft kiss against the corner of Nicole’s mouth.

Jecka shifts her position, so her legs aren’t encircling Nicole’s lap. Instead, she moves off Nicole and back onto the floor before resting her head on Nicole’s lap, facing her stomach.

“Now let me sleep, bitch,” Jecka slurs closing her eyes.

Nicole coughs. When the heavy stone that’s clogging up her throat refuses to leave, she coughs again. Her face is burning, she notes faintly.

“Face the other way,” she mumbles, hoping her voice isn’t as high as it sounds.

“What?”

Nicole clears her throat. “Face the other way. If you make me go home with your vomit all over me, I’ll kill you.”

Jecka giggles again, nestling deeper into Nicole’s stomach.

-

Megan barges into the room ten minutes later with this shit-eating ugly grin on her face. God, Nicole hates this nosy bitch.

“So, apparently you’re-“ she chokes on the stench . “Oh, fuck, could you two not go five minutes without a fucking smoke?”

Nicole glares at her.

“I mean, seriously-“

“Megan, shut the fuck up.”

Megan finally acknowledges the precarious position they’re locked in – Jecka using Nicole’s jacket as a blanket, snoring contently in her lap and right hand locked with Nicole’s.

Megan grins again. “Oh, I already know, bitch. You think this was the first time I tried to check up on you two?”

Nicole’s brain spins. The door creaking, when Jecka was pushed up against her like that-

She composes herself as much as she can with Jecka on top of her. “What the fuck is this going to do for you? Outing somebody in Washington when Obama’s about to be president is just gonna get you bullied, dumbass,” Nicole glares. “Better idea; If you don’t get out right fucking now, I’ll make sure the fact that every girl in this school has seen your boyfriend’s ugly fucking dick before you is the least of your worries, bitch.”

Megan frowns. “That’s not-“

“Get out.”

“Fuck you,” Megan utters as she leaves.

The room is silent again, save for the commotion outside and Jecka’s steady breaths against her stomach.

-

Jecka wakes her in the next morning with a phone call that makes Nicole jump. She puts off answering for a moment before deciding, fuck it.

“Why the actual fuck are you calling me this early?”

Jecka groans, and the scratchiness in her voice is the only thing stopping Nicole from ripping her head off. “You know I can’t sleep when I’m hungover, bitch. Did you take me home last night?”

For as groggy as she feels, Nicole registers that Jecka’s memory is gone – and she’s more than a little confused at the disappointment she feels. She hums in confirmation.

“Thank fuck. Mom’s been looking at me weird all morning. I thought some guy was with me when she opened the door, or something.”

“As if a guy wouldn’t have just ditched you at the party.”

“Whatever. Skip with me today?”

Nicole grins. “Thought you were looking to get into a good college, or whatever.”

“Nicole, I’m hungover and tired and Mom was being a bitch all morning. If I have to listen to Jeffrey for even a second, I might actually murder him.”

“Why are we skipping, then? That’s hot as fuck.”

Jecka’s silence that lasts for a beat too long is confirmation enough that she does remember something, and some of this is an act. Nicole doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that.

Jecka clears her throat. “Shut up. Are you coming over or what?”

“Whatever, fine. See you in a bit.”

She hangs up before she can hear whatever Jecka says in response. God, she hates parties. If she just hadn’t come, Jecka probably would’ve gone off with some guy, and Nicole wouldn’t have seen her and heard… that.

That Jecka loves her.

And that she needed to be wasted to actually admit it. God, what the fuck is she supposed to do?

Whatever. Whatever. If Jecka wants to be like that… fine. Nicole can be a bitch too.

She’ll force Jecka to confess, one way or another. She’ll plan it out, and leave Jecka desperate, until all she can do is confess.

-

Jecka answers the door with a grimace on her face.

“You didn’t have to ring the doorbell,” she groans as she closes the door behind Nicole.

“Just wanted to see how bad the hangover is,” Nicole grins.

Jecka glares. “Happy now, bitch?”

“Very.”

Nicole watches as Jecka makes her way onto the couch. She’s dressed in sweatpants and a singlet, and even with no makeup and the seemingly unmoving stormy look on her face, she still looks better than everybody else at their school combined. As if that’s saying much.

Her hair’s fully down as well. Nicole kind of wants to run her hands through it.

Instead, she follows Jecka to the couch. It feels lame in comparison to where her brain was leading her, but whatever. Baby steps.

“Where’s your parents?”

Jecka rolls her eyes. “Dad’s working. Mom’s going out for an ‘afternoon with the girls,’ which means day drinking and harassing everybody who isn’t white.”

“They have drugs?”

“They’re rich, obviously.”

“So, why the fuck are we sitting here?”

“My parents at least pretend to care about me. There’s a lock on the cabinet, and shit. Even if there wasn’t, Mom’s a bored housewife with no job. She’s probably got some list of everything in there.”

Nicole sighs.

“God, you’re a bitch, fine.” Jecka reaches under her singlet to pull out a pill. Nicole’s seen her do it hundreds of time before, but after last night? Her brain immediately jumps to Jecka doing the same while she was pressed up against her, with her pupils blown, and cheeks flushed, and body pressed up against Nicole’s.

And how fucking good it all felt.

Nicole hopes her blush doesn’t show when she takes the titty-Xanax from her. Nicole’s hand burns when they make contact, and evidently Jecka feels it too, because Jecka’s resolutely staring at the TV when she looks up. Her cheeks are dusted with pink.

“What even happened last night?” She asks without making eye contact.

Nicole shifts closer to Jecka. “Aside from you ditching me for fucking Kelly? Nothing, really.”

Which isn’t exactly a lie – once Jecka had passed out, Nicole had spent the rest of the party with her in Kelly’s room until they’d been kicked out – it’s just neglecting what had happened in between. But Jecka wouldn’t know about that, right?

“I didn’t fucking ditch you-“

“The hottest bitch at the party left me alone at a party where I hate everybody. That’s not ditching?”

Jecka coughs. Her face is back to that delicious pink. “Second hottest,” she says quietly.

“What?”

“Second hottest. We’re both tens, but you’re the hottest bitch I know.”

Nicole flushes. Oh, this is not good. Her insides feel… gooey. Her mouth doesn’t obey her anymore-

This is so not good. If she’s going to get Jecka to admit it, she needs to work harder.

Nicole forces herself to recompose, staunchly ignoring the heat running through her blood at Jecka’s words. Then she shifts on the couch so that she’s stretched across the side Jecka’s not on, lifts her legs, and rests them on top of Jecka’s lap.

Jecka finally looks at her, but for some reason, Nicole can’t return it with a glare.

“Lying is only hot when you do it to other people, you know,” she croaks.

Jecka opens her mouth to argue. She struggles with the words, falters, and then closes her mouth. She bites her lip – she bites her lip, oh fuck – then leans back on the couch, pulling Nicole’s legs across her torso as she goes.

When she looks at Nicole, she’s wearing a content smile and that lovely dusting of pink as perfectly as she does anything. Nicole has to force herself to look away, or the raging inferno simmering beneath her skin could let loose, and ruin all of her plans-

She’s not losing to Jecka.

But when she looks like that? Nicole hasn’t thought of anything as cute for years. Having the thought come about Jecka, who she’s seen lie and manipulate her way through countless situations almost as easily as Nicole…

Fuck. Jecka is her type.

Jecka’s hand brushes across her calf, a light touch that makes her ache for the sensations she felt a night ago, and Nicole can’t bring herself to care about the feelings rising within her.

-

The next phase in her plan is nothing so involved as spending an entire day sprawled atop Jecka, watching movies until her Mom stumbles home, screaming about evil baristas who sabotage her order. While that was fun, she doesn’t think piling it on will get Jecka to make any moves herself.

No, she needs to be cautious about it… enough to frustrate.

It’s as simple as slinking into her usual seat at lunch period besides Jecka a few days later, sighing loudly, and letting her leg press up against hers under the table.

Jecka makes a sound somewhere between choking and coughing.

“Picking art class might be the dumbest thing we’ve ever done,” she complains innocently. She keeps her eyes trained on Jecka, watching her reaction.

Jecka twitches. “What happened this time?” Her voice shakes but doesn’t break. She trains her eyes on her food – packed from home, of course, because as much as she says she only dresses preppy, Nicole knows her better than that.

Fine. If Jecka’s not going to acknowledge it, neither will Nicole.

She bats her lashes at Jecka as she presses her leg further, keeping her face impassive. “I thought it would be like, an easy class, but you know how Mr. Lorre is all about ‘affirmations,’ or whatever?”

Nicole shuffles closer. The closer proximity lets her curl her leg around Jecka’s. In response, Jecka lets a hum loose from her lips without looking at Nicole.

“Well, because he heard me calling Coach Colby a pedo, I had to stay back and listen to him affirm Jeffrey’s creepy fucking drawings of all the girls with boobs bigger than their heads.”

“S-seriously?”

Nicole hears the stutter, and she thinks there might be an inferno raging beneath her skin, what with how fast it makes her heart run.

She lets a grin show. “Yup. Worst part is, instead of calling it shitty fetish art made by a creepy future pedophile, he said it was stylistic.” As she speaks, she presses even closer, until they’re barely separated.

Finally, Jecka starts to push back. Though she’s blushing prettily, she still possesses a defiant glint in her eyes. “So, he’s still gonna stare at us when he thinks we’re working?”

“Probably. Worst part is, I’m not allowed to show Jeffrey what I draw anymore.” Nicole lets her knee trail up Jecka’s leg.

“The stuff about all his characters getting killed in weirdly graphic ways?” Jecka responds by pushing back harshly. Nicole holds back a jolt.

“Exactly. Like, is he fucking serious? Maybe he should affirm my urge to watch them both drown in the school bathrooms.”

Jecka halts their under-the-table battle to laugh softly. It’s not exactly her best line, but whatever works.

Jecka bridges the last remnants of the gap between them by shifting to steal a reheated fry from Nicole’s lunch tray, and she knows it’s a flimsy excuse to seek more contact because Jecka has never even looked at her food before.

Jecka winces at the taste. “God, how can you stomach this shit every day?”

“It’s basically cutting at this point.”

Jecka shrugs. She doesn’t move away, though her leg remains still – another victory, Nicole notes triumphantly.

Nicole softly presses her thigh against Jecka’s, who returns the motion after a beat.

They stay like that until the bell rings.

-

The next step in her plan isn’t exactly planned, but Nicole wouldn’t have risen to the top of this fucking hellhole of a school if she didn’t know how to improvise.

The worrying thing is it’s less of an improvisation and more… reactionary than she’s used to.

Because once school is over, Nicole sees Jecka smoking in the car park outside her car, talking to – no, Crispin has never held a conversation that remained consensual the entire way through – being harassed by Crispin, with his shitty graphic t-shirt, and his shitty grin, and-

Before she can even think of what her body is making her do, she’s inserting herself in between the two of them, and giving him the most violent side-eye she can muster.

“Fuck off and die, Crispin. We have plans and, like every other day, they don’t involve fucking you.”

Crispin does that stupid half-hearted chuckle, “who said anything about-“

“Fuck off and die. Do I have to say please? I mean, I’m not going to, but still.”

Crispin backs off rapidly after that. When Nicole turns, Jecka is stubbing out her dart with a grin.

“He was asking about math homework, you know.”

Nicole scoffs. “It’s Crispin, it’s never just one thing. It’s always, ‘you wanna study together? I’m really getting into enlightenment and shit lately, you know?’ God, he’s such a fucking loser.”

“I know,” Jecka says, and Nicole almost does a double take when she hears the tender tone. “I’m good at getting him to leave, but you’re like, that guy who won American Idol good.”

“I don’t have cable, remember?”

“Bitch,” Jecka’s words lack any heat. “We didn’t have plans today.”

“…You wanna get fucked up at mine? Mom got a new prescription last week.”

“Totally.”

-

“Are you sure nothing happened at the party?” Jecka asks her later, when there’s hazy clouds floating through her brain and her words have to force their way through a harsh fog for Nicole to register them.

“You seriously think I’d lie?”

Jecka raises an eyebrow.

“Bitch, I’d tell you if you got drugged, relax.”

“That’s not what I-“ Jecka groans. She sits up and eyes the position they’ve found themselves in – how their legs are tangled under Nicole’s fluffy blanket, how their fingers had intertwined at some point and never separated, how it feels like every point on her body with sensation is connected with her in some way, and how the crook in her neck feels infinitely emptier without Jecka’s head nestled in it.

Nicole tauntingly meets her gaze, matching the raised eyebrow. “What?”

Jecka inches closer, and Nicole feels the pull desperately, like there’s a force from within screaming at her to let their lips meet. She watches Jecka’s mouth work – with great interest, admittedly – and try and fail to say the words that Nicole knows she’s thinking. Her mouth opens, and then it closes. Nothing.

Her disappointment is tempered by that heady desire, dripping from the room and invading her senses until it’s running through her heart and into her arteries. It’s like drinking lightning; electricity flows through her and she feels it in every pore of her skin. She’s about this close to pushing forward herself and kiss her finally, even when she knows if she was sober, she’d never let her off the hook, even if it was Jecka, who’s probably the only person she knows deserving of mercy. Not to be too dramatic.

Jecka shakes her head. Resolve washes over her face as she pushes forward. She opens her mouth-

A crash from downstairs interrupts them. Nicole’s Mom screams from below, “Nicole! Why the fuck am I getting calls from the school about you drawing gore in art class?”

Nicole watches as Jecka jolts backwards like she’s been pricked with a needle, scrambling to remain upright and cover up the various pill bottles and shit they’ve left around Nicole’s room. It’s the perfect excuse for her to keep being a pussy.

What-fucking-ever.

“Try again next time, Jecka,” Nicole husks when she looks her way, and it’s all she can get out before she hears stomping up the stairs.

Chapter Text

“Anyway, that’s why I think cannibalism is kind of romantic,” Nicole says from her perch on Jecka’s car’s hood, twirling the dart they’re sharing in her fingers.

“Yeah, totally. Me too.”

Nicole does a double take. Jecka’s mind is clearly elsewhere – she isn’t even fucking looking at her. Is this how it feels to be Crispin?

“You could at least try to listen, bitch.”

Jecka’s eyes come into focus finally, but she still can’t look Nicole in the eye. She hasn’t been able to in the three days since they’d almost kissed, even though she also can’t seem to pull away from Nicole.

They walk and sit closer to each other at school, the lingering touches are longer, and every little jab stings a little less. Even passing the cigarette around like they are now feels loaded, as if she can smell Jecka in the smoke if she lets it linger and surround her.  

And then Nicole catches her eye, and that hazy feeling around them dissipates. Every single fucking time.  

On one hand, Nicole loves the attention, and she loves that her plan is working. On the other, she’s sick of Jecka being a pussy. God, preppy bitches are not worth the effort.

“Sorry, what were you talking about?”

“Cannibalism is sexy.”

Jecka chokes on her spit. “Seriously? If some guy-“ she coughs. “Someone wanted to eat your fingers, you’d be turned on?”

Nicole pauses her train of thought. This is getting ridiculous. “Okay, is that really how you’re asking me if I’m lesbian?”

Jecka colours. “Bitch, I’m allowed to know.”

“Yeah, but normally you’d do it with way less tact. It’s just weird now.”

“How am I supposed to ask?”

Nicole shrugs. “Ask if I’m experimenting with the gay girl or something, I don’t know.”

“…Are you?”

“Nah. Ari’s way too easy to manipulate. It’d be like our counsellor going after twelve-year-olds.”

“What does that even- did you just compare yourself to a pedophile?”

“That is not what I meant,” Nicole glares. “I just mean, there’s no challenge in it with her now that I have practice with like, everybody else at this fucking school.”

“So, because he has practice trying to fuck us, younger kids are too easy?”

“You’re taking this the wrong way. The point is Ari’s boring.”

Jecka eyes her with confusion. “So, you’re not gay?”

“God, take a hint,” Nicole sighs. “Yes, I think tits are hot. Yes, I think that one psycho girl in remedial classes is really cool, and yes, in a gay way.”

Jecka grins. She turns to hide it almost instantly, but Nicole still sees it. “How was I supposed to get that from anything, Nicole?”

“Whatever. Not like it even matters. If I’m still alive by graduation, it’ll only be because I’m rich enough to not even think about interacting with another disgusting creep or annoying bitch again. Dating pool’s kinda small like that.”

Jecka’s face shifts and shifts, and Nicole’s kind of sick of having to crane her neck to see what she’s thinking. It’s only when she hands over the cigarette that Nicole’s able to see the light pink dusting on her cheeks.

“My family’s rich,” she says, faintly.

Nicole blinks.

God, how can she be so fucking stupid?

Nicole takes a few extra-long drags, just to rid herself of the urge to kill herself then and there.

“You also have amazing tits,” Nicole says when she’s finished, and then she grins when she sees Jecka flush red and choke on air.

-

So, yes, Nicole still has to go through with her plan. Even if she had almost fucked it up when they were high, even if she knows Jecka doesn’t forget shit when she’s high and she obviously remembers how close they had been, Jecka is apparently more of an unbearable idiot than she had first thought.

(Putting aside the fact that every time she sees that shy look paired with a blush, she wants to tell Jecka herself. That there’s something in her chest that she’d long forgotten, newly beating and alive and on fire around her specifically, and sure, maybe this whole plan is her way of dealing with having no idea how to handle it-)

Whatever. Jecka’s stupid.

The next step is simple.

She logs onto her other Facebook account – the one that nobody except for Jecka knows is her and lets her stalk whoever she wants without being bothered – and scrolls through Jecka’s account. She has a few photos up of parties, concerts, and a lot of posts bitching about the school and her parents, but none of them are what she’s looking for.

Finally, she spots it. A two-week-old photo of Jecka at Ari’s house, on a lounge chair in front of the sun and beside the pool. She’s posing like she knows she’s hot – which, obviously Nicole isn’t arguing with – staring off across the distance while laid primly on her back, clad only in a bikini and sunglasses, hair splayed out across the chair.

Nicole remembers the day. She had taken the photo, after all, at Ari’s birthday pool party. She’d also taken the twenty photos that preceded it, and she had helped pick the best one out of the bunch to post, and she’d complained the whole time.

But now, she can’t help but congratulate herself on a great choice. Jecka’s always hot, but this photo only serves to accentuate it all. She looks… beautiful.

Way too good for Nicole.

It’s a sobering enough thought to have her reconsider her plan for a moment.

Fuck it, is the thought that ends up winning out over all the rest.

Nicole likes the photo. Then she turns the computer off and waits.

Her phone rings three minutes later.

“Hey, Jecka-“

“Why the fuck did you like that picture, Nicole?”

“Huh?”

“Bitch, we agreed to share our stalking accounts. Why were you stalking me?”

Nicole smiles. “Ohhh, that one. Finger must’ve slipped, I guess.”

“Finger slipped- bitch, you’re not fifty.”

“What’s the problem? You’re hot, just take the like.”

“The problem is- I just don’t- Fuck, Nicole!” Jecka groans loudly into the phone.

“What did I do?”

“You know what you’re doing.”  

Nicole almost lets her grin bleed into her tone. She recomposes. “Is this another ‘you were mean to me in a dream,’ situation?”

Jecka goes silent. When she speaks, she’s quieter. “You’re a bitch, Nicole.”

“More,” Nicole prods.

“Whore.”

“Keep going. This is really getting me going-“

“Slut. Fuck you.”

Jecka hangs up before Nicole can get another word in, but not before she hears Jecka giggle softly into the phone.  

-

A few days later, Nicole is lazing around on Jecka’s bed. She’s having a totally normal one, and not at all busy trying to keep her eyes from Jecka’s bare legs.

After all, she’s seen Jecka half-naked before many times, and never once has she felt like this-

Totally normal. This isn’t an almost impossible task.

“Do you ever-“ Nicole clears her throat when it catches on nothing. Shit. “Do you ever think about how our whole school would be diagnosed with hysteria like, a hundred years ago?”

Jecka turns her head to level her with a glare. “There’s a lot of things you could be diagnosed with, Nicole.”

“Shut up. It’s kinda cool, right?”

“What?”

“That we’d all be crazy together.”

Jecka holds up a pair of jeans in front of her mirror. Without looking away, she says, “don’t you hate everybody at our school?”

“Duh. But it’d be cool to see them get like, lobotomies, or whatever they did. I’ve always wanted to know-”

“I’m pretty sure the treatment for hysteria was a vibrator and some antidepressants.”

Nicole blinks. “Seriously?”

Jecka drops the pants with a shake of her head, and suddenly Nicole has no distractions from the fact that her legs are really hot. And now she’s thinking about vibrators, too. Fuck.

“Do I really look like I know for sure?”

“They didn’t just burn every woman at the stake?”

“I think that was a little earlier on,” Jecka shrugs as she leans back into her closet. “Megan did a whole presentation on this stuff in history.”

Nicole sours. “She’s such a bitch.”

“Right? I’m pretty sure Kelly saved it by asking like, four questions about the types of vibrators they used.” Jecka pauses, bent over at the waist as she rummages through her clothes. Nicole is absolutely not struggling to keep her eyes away.

After a moment, Jecka stands with a triumphant smile and a pair of jeans. She slips them on, struts forward, and poses in front of Nicole. “How about these?” She asks.

Nicole clears her head as quickly as she can. “Totally. Better than the last ones.”

Jecka peers back at the mirror. She takes the jeans off, and Nicole’s gaze is forced up. God, why is she so weak now?

When Nicole finally lets herself look at Jecka, she catches her staring at her.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Jecka says, with her voice one tone too high.  

“Whatever.” Nicole lies back on the bed and yawns. “Why’d you even need me here? You know you’re hot, as if you need me to tell you.”

Jecka coughs. She doesn’t say anything else.

And neither does Nicole. There’s nothing else to say, really, when Jecka lies next to her, and she feels her bump their legs together.

Jecka turns on her side to face Nicole. “So, I’m not wasting my time?”

“What, shopping?” Nicole flips over to meet her gaze. “As if.”

And there’s something else in her eyes that goes deeper, stretches further, as if that’s not at all what she’s talking about.

There’s probably meaning to it, but Nicole is Nicole, so all she knows to do is shrug and pull one of Jecka’s jackets on top of her.

“Good,” Jecka says softly, her hand slipping into Nicole’s, holding tightly enough to stop Nicole from pushing her away.

-

Nicole wears Jecka’s jacket to school the next day.

Jecka does a double-take when she sees her, chokes, and drops her cigarette on the ground.

Nicole doesn’t bother wiping the smug smirk off her face for the whole day.

-

A few days later, Nicole thinks she’s at her breaking point.

They’re sharing a cigarette outside the school, leaning against Jecka’s car side-by-side in a spot they know is just out of view of the counsellor’s office.

And sure, it’s fun to watch Jecka’s reactions when she mentions taking the dart, putting it out on her neck, and licking the burn, but also, it’s infuriating. She doesn’t even argue anymore.

She just calls her gay while she stands there, blushing and squirming, like Nicole can’t see clear as day what she really thinks about that idea.

And Nicole is just about ready to go through with it and kiss her herself, when fucking Megan walks up.

“You know, as class president, I can’t let students skip right in front of me,” and god, Nicole can just hear the ego inflating enough to choke her.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because it’s my spot on the honour roll or you bitches, and I know which one is more important.”

Nicole blows a cloud of smoke in her face. Megan dodges it with a grimace.

“Why are you even out here? Aren’t you supposed to be in some nerd class?” Jecka says.

“We’re all in the same science class, dumbass.”

“So, what, you got up to look for us yourself? God, you’re embarrassing,” Nicole smirks.

“I didn’t. The teacher couldn’t help but notice Jecka left her books behind.”

Nicole turns to glare at Jecka.

“What? You said we were going to the bathroom, how was I supposed to know we were skipping?”

“Who actually uses the school bathroom?”

“Don’t get mad at me, I was just as confused.”

“Both of you shut up!” Megan interjects. “Just come back to class so I can get my extra credit and make it to a college far away from you both.”

“That makes me want to do it even less, bitch,” Jecka snarks.

Megan rears back as if she’s ready to yell. Nicole leans on Jecka’s shoulder, smirking. “Aw, you made her mad, Jecka.”

Megan stops. Her eyes dart between the two of them. She sighs, “I fucking hate couples. Seriously, just come with me.”

Nicole narrows her eyes from behind Jecka. She shakes her head, and fuck, she might actually murder Megan if she keeps speaking.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Nicole steps in front of Jecka.

Megan glances at Nicole and grins. “I mean, I saw you two at Kelly’s party-“

“Megan,” Nicole interrupts. “Get the fuck out of here, now.”

“I can’t, bitch, what am I supposed to tell the teacher-“

“Megan, I swear to god, you are the most pathetic loser I’ve ever met, and I know Jeffrey. Tell him we’re not here, bitch.”

“Why would I-“

“Because I’m going to fucking murder you if you don’t.”

Megan doesn’t glare back at Nicole. Instead, her gaze shifts over to Jecka behind her. The anger is replaced quickly with a self-satisfied smirk, and god, Nicole wants to kill this bitch. “Fine. Have fun, you two.”

She stalks off with only a wave, which is weird. Megan always has something else to say.

Whatever. She’ll never turn down less time with Megan. “God, what a bitch,” Nicole sighs.

Then she freezes. Jecka’s face is tight with anger, and she’s glaring at her like she’s just fucked her ex.

Fear seizes her. “Wait, you don’t actually believe her, do you?”

“I didn’t. But then you started acting like that. Now, I do.”

Shit.

“We didn’t-“

“Just get in the car, Nicole.”

Shit, shit, fuck.

-

Jecka doesn’t speak for the entire ride to Nicole’s house. She just stares ahead, eyebrows drawn tight, and mouth clenched.

Nicole hates it. She tries everything save for crashing the car, but no matter what, Jecka just won’t look at her, and honestly, she should be used to it by now, but it’s so much worse like this.

Her brain – somewhere in the long buried and not-as-dead as she’d hoped part of it – knows this overwhelming, sinking feeling is guilt, and that she’s felt it before.

Never for somebody who’s deserved it, though.

“Get out,” Jecka finally says when they’ve pulled up to Nicole’s house, in a clipped tone that makes that guilt reverberate through her.

Nicole obeys wordlessly, leading Jecka through the house and into her room. She sits, pulls out her stash, and offers some pills to Jecka.

When she gets a withering look in response, Nicole shrugs. “What? You can’t expect me to have a serious conversation without being high.”

Jecka sighs. She holds out her hand, and Nicole supplies.

The two of them swallow, and then Jecka settles across from her.

“Talk.”

Nicole groans. “About what?”

“You said we didn’t fuck,” Jecka’s tone is clipped and low, “but Megan’s been giving me funny looks since the party, and you’ve been doing that thing where an old hookup starts flirting and making it all weird. What else am I supposed to think, Nicole?”

“We didn’t fuck-“

“Hooked up. Whatever, same thing.”

“We didn’t do that, either. Megan’s just a bitch who’s pissed at me.”

Jecka glares. “Fuck you if you think I’m believing that. You’ve had screaming matches with people who accidentally touch you before, now you’re actually initiating shit with me?”

“When have I done that?”

“Like, two days ago, when Jeffrey tried to give you the quiz in science.”

Nicole scoffs. “Firstly, it’s Jeffrey. Secondly, he tried to get me to do work, and thirdly, fucking Jeffrey? Seriously?”

“Whatever, Nicole. I’m not an idiot.”

“Uh, yeah you are, if you think Megan isn’t a vindictive bitch.”

Jecka shakes her head. “Well, she thinks something happened, and I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

And, honestly? Nicole really isn’t liking this.

Like, if it was anybody else, Nicole would tell Jecka to fuck off. They’d avoid each other at school for the week and glare at each other in between classes, but eventually Jecka would get sick of listening to Kelly’s shitty sex stories that can’t be that interesting, and she’d ask to get high with her and Nicole would say yes because she knows what she really means is if they could go back to normal. And Nicole would say yes not because of titty-Xanax, and how she smiles when they gossip, and Jecka’s stupidly pretty eyes, and the way her leg gravitates to Nicole’s when they sit together now, and how fucking hot-

But Jecka isn’t anybody else. They haven’t been normal for a long time.

So, Nicole speaks. “We really didn’t hook up, Jecka. I’m not Kyler. You were basically passed out.”

Evidently, the… honesty, ugh, in Nicole’s tone reaches Jecka because her shoulders begin to lower, and she loses some of the tension in her face. “What happened, then?”

Nicole breathes in. If this is what it takes to get that shitty feeling out of her chest, whatever. “Megan walked in on us not making out.”

Jecka blinks. “What?”

“You had been pestering her for a while because she elected herself to be the drunk caretaker and you were like, three bottles of vodka deep. She said you were missing me-“ Jecka makes a choking sound. Nicole ignores her. “So, Megan found me and made me stay with you.”

“How is that not-“

“God, relax. I’m getting to it,” Nicole shakes her head. “Anyway, you start doing your drunk thing, and I’m like, whatever, and then you climbed in my lap. Megan saw us like that, and then she saw you passed out, still on my lap, later. That’s it.”

Nicole sighs. The guilt in her chest isn’t exactly gone, but whatever. This might be better than-

The look on Jecka’s face makes Nicole stop. She’s flushed a deep scarlet that Nicole has never seen before, even when she thought she’d won a contest to meet Ryan Sheckler. It makes her heart roar, and reminds her that this entire time, Nicole has been holding herself back from saying what she’s really wanted to, and the whole time, she’s been wishing to see that look again for her, not some dumb fuck white dickhead.

“Is that really it?” She asks quietly, like she’s… like she’s fucking terrified.

Maybe she is, Nicole realises, and her blood sings.

“You tried to kiss me,” the words force themselves out in a whisper when she realises Jecka being scared makes her feel like utter shit. “I said you were too drunk. You said that you loved me.” It comes out in a rush, unbidden.

Jecka squeaks. “I- oh fuck, really?”

“Yes.”

Jecka stands. She turns away from Nicole with a cigarette in hand, lighting it and taking a drag.

“And you just… knew this?”

Nicole hums.

“You didn’t tell anybody?”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Just seems like a you thing to do,” Jecka shrugs.

“Bitch.”

Jecka takes another inhale. She breathes out a cloud of smoke, and when she looks back at Nicole, her eyes are narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Nicole groans. “Fuck off.”

“No, seriously. There better be a good fucking reason, Nicole.”

Nicole looks away.

“Is this shit all a game to you? The flirting, the way you’ve been acting lately…” Jecka trails off.

Whatever. Whatever. Nicole hates this. Even now, when she knows it’d be so easy to get Jecka to leave her alone for good, she just can’t make herself, because it’s Jecka.

“I was trying to get you to admit it when you were sober.”

“Why?”

“When you’re drunk, it doesn’t mean anything. But you’re just such a fucking pussy that I could never know for sure-“

Jecka cuts her off by coming over and sitting right in her personal space. She takes the cigarette from her mouth and holds it out to Nicole. She accepts it without a second thought.

There’s a long pause, one that’s filled with silence and everything but. Nicole thinks she hasn’t spoken like this in years, since before her dad and everything that followed.

And it had to be because of Jecka.

With her mouth occupied, Jecka speaks. She lingers close now, so they’re separated by barely anything at all. “You wanted insurance?” She asks.

Nicole breaths in the smoke, then exhales away from Jecka. “Maybe. Doesn’t help you were being an idiot-”

Jecka leans in impossibly closer, so her breath tickles Nicole’s skin. It’s odd, but whenever Jecka gets this close, she can feel every sensation in her bones – and Jecka’s breath makes her shiver.

Oh fuck, is she-

Jecka presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, on the opposite side to where she had when she was drunk. Nicole feels like she’s been shot with a harpoon through the chest. Everything in her body feels punctured, crushed, yet she’s being pulled right into Jecka.  “So, you knew all this time?” Jecka whispers, from right beside Nicole’s ear.

Nicole hums. The cigarette is a good excuse for not being able to move her mouth.

“And this… thing, isn’t one-sided?”

Nicole coughs through a nod.

Jecka’s eyes lose their last trace of nervousness, replaced with a sly, calculating look. She snakes a hand around Nicole’s side and fits herself against her body. “I’ve never flirted with somebody for this long, you know. Guys always want to get straight to fucking.”

Nicole puts the dart out on the ashtray. “I’m not a guy,” she croaks. “In case you haven’t noticed.”

Jecka presses her chest against Nicole’s side, and she’s never really thought about how hot it is to have somebody’s boobs pressed against you until now. Jecka trails kisses down from Nicole’s cheek to her throat, and she burns at every little sensation.

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” she giggles into the tender parts of Nicole’s throat, where she knows Jecka can feel every little hitch in her breath.

Nicole shudders when Jecka presses her lips against a pressure point. “What, is this like, tradition now? Fucking on the first date?” She husks through the sensations.

Jecka kisses lower to her chest, pushing Nicole’s shirt down to accommodate herself and keeping her body pressed against her. “Bitch. This isn’t a date.”

Jecka’s hands slip under Nicole’s shirt, playing with the hem. “What is it, then?” She pants.

Jecka smiles into another kiss against tender skin. “Payback.”

Suddenly, Jecka pulls away from her entirely, and Nicole whines at the loss of the contact. Then the urge to kill herself grips her, because holy shit, how embarrassing, but Jecka gives her a look that has her desperate all over again.

“Jecka, I swear-“

“What? We could’ve been doing this for like, a week. You were the one who made it a stupid fucking contest,” Jecka smiles like she’s so fucking proud of herself.

Nicole growls. She’s not used to being this out of control, but Jecka has always done things like this to her – thrown her out of whack, and then acted like nothing’s changed and things are just peachy.

“What do you want?” Nicole growls.

Jecka hums. “Dunno,” she shrugs.

Nicole’s whole body pulses with potent lust, and her brain feels like it’s been split in two, with how slow everything feels – God, this must be what it’s like to be Kyler – and then she wants to kill herself again, for thinking of Kyler now.

Somehow, this is all Jecka’s fault. “Jecka, you bitch.”

“Someone’s eager,” she giggles. “Kinda gay, Nicole.”

“God, I am fucking gay! For you!”

Jecka smiles then, but it’s not clouded with desire – it’s softer, and filled with affection. She whispers, “so am I.”

“Doesn’t look like it, bitch.”

“I have been. And… I will be. Probably.”

Nicole pauses. There’s that same scared tone she hates, that same uncertainty. Nicole pauses for a moment.

“This isn’t going to be a one-time thing, Jecka. I can’t- I don’t know what-“ Nicole cuts herself off. There’s a million things she could tell her, but her mouth doesn’t want to let her say them. “But I want to try,” is all she can force out.  

Jecka seems to understand all that goes unsaid, because she gives her a nod that feels like so much more.

“Now, are we doing this, or should I just go fuck myself?”

Jecka places a finger below her chin as if she’s thinking, even as she begins to lean back into Nicole.

Her body comes into contact with Nicole’s, her hands begin to slip around her waist, she smiles as she inches closer and closer, and Nicole’s senses are dominated by Jecka, Jecka, Jecka.

Then, she pauses right in front of Nicole’s lips. “Beg.”

“What-“

Jecka puts a finger up to Nicole’s lips to stop her from surging forward herself. “You heard me,” she says.

Nicole wishes she didn’t. She wishes she didn’t know the part of her that wants to-

“Please,” she obeys.

Fuck.

-

It takes Nicole almost an entire week to remember that technically, her plan failed.

They’re curled up together in Jecka’s room, watching some terrible Scream rip-off that Jecka had wanted to watch because she loves listening to shitty actresses sing, and Nicole had agreed on it because Jack Black getting killed brutally is at least kind of interesting.

And sure, it had been interesting, but Nicole hadn’t planned on letting the movie go any further. She does, but only because Jecka rests her head in the crook of Nicole’s neck, and Nicole is way too comfortable with her arm wrapped around Jecka’s back and their legs intertwined to kick her out, and the movie is gory enough to give her some interesting thoughts that linger for a little too long for her to stop watching.

But then Nicole realises that she was the one who had confessed, not Jecka, and she has to do something to get her back.

“You know,” she drawls, when that thought the movie has been giving her resurges, “I think you’d look really fucking hot covered in blood.”

Jecka looks up at Nicole in confusion. “What?”

“Like, how horror movie characters get covered in blood. You’d look so sexy.”

Jecka sits up, but there’s a lilt in her voice that shows Nicole she doesn’t intend to stay away. “Is this your idea of foreplay? Because it is not working.”

“I’m thinking of you, drenched in blood with an axe or something and looking all crazy-“

Jecka sits up and pushes Nicole back an inch, to give her space to shuffle up onto her lap. “You’re so fucked up, Nicole,” she whispers.

Nicole grasps Jecka’s hips, pulling her in closer to her chest. “Maybe I’d lick the blood off your throat-“

“Am I going to have to fuck you to make you shut up?”

Nicole scoffs. “I’m fucking you this time, bit-”

Jecka surges forward, stealing Nicole’s lips and all of her senses. In an instant, all she feels and breathes is Jecka, and her lips are like fire against hers.

Jecka’s hands find the back of Nicole’s neck, and if her lips were mere fire then her tongue feels like magma in her mouth. There’s a beat, a breath, and then Jecka’s hands shoot lightning through Nicole’s chest when they reach down to pull off her shirt.

Jecka pulls back to breathe heavy gasps from atop Nicole, visibly relishing in how their position has been shifting in her favour.

With the last bits of sanity, Nicole reaches up to pull Jecka back, but she’s rebuffed by a hand that shoves her down into the couch.

“Mine,” Jecka whispers, and then she kisses Nicole until she forgets all about winning or losing, until she’s hoarse and tender and fuller than she ever has been in her life, and Nicole thinks that somehow, she might be okay with this.