Chapter Text
Jecka was sure she was in her living room—yeah, there were a lot more…things… there than usual– but she was in the right place…probably.
When you’re this fucked up this late (or this early, she didn’t really know anymore), things start to…blur. Times, smells, faces, places– it all gets kinda… mushy.
The living room seemed mostly the same– except both couches were practically spilling with these stretchy, pulsing, dark, long blobs buzzing conspiratorially amongst themselves.
Jecka frowned. Whatever they were, they’d probably be gone in the morning.
As she slipped toward the stairs, the blobs' heads (heads?) snapped toward her as if called. Before Jecka could yell, they did.
‘Surprise!’
Jecka blinked, and blinked and blinked.
So they were people, she could be sure of that, couldn’t she? But now she had to ask— who were they?— and why the fuck were there so many of them?
“Jessica, welcome home,” started Dad’s disembodied voice. He was using that tone. The ‘TV Dad’ tone he’d play on ‘good days’ like an entire divorce’s worth of rage wasn’t loudly boiling in his throat. “You’re back a whole 3 hours late, Jessica! What were you doing?”
“Sorry, I’m back…late…” Jecka murmured, slurring long and syrupy, “someone put…welcome to the black parade on the store playlist, and some freak tried impaling himself with the Disney isle's clothing rod. So like… what’s going on here? Somebody die?”
“No– we’re just here to talk to you, is all,” a large, knowing hand gripped Jecka’s wrist, a firmness that told her she had no choice but to obey. “Come on, sweetie, sit down,” Dad managed.
“Right…”
When her Dad forced her onto the only empty couch, some of the figures began to take shape– their dark shrouds melting into something more…human.
After some time, faces began to form, and the first she recognised was— “Megan! Get the fuck out of my house!”
Megan began to take shape– sitting as straight as she would on one of the stools in science class despite being on a couch, arms folded in a prissy little ‘I had a purity ring before the Jonas brothers did’ way. “That’s no way to speak to me, Jecka. I’m your guest!” she sneered.
“Yeah, and now I’m kicking you out so—”
“Jessica!” Dad roared. He drew a sharp breath. Jecka jolted.
A woman’s voice cracked in “Excuse me!”
An assertive depth, a commanding rasp. The distinctly teacher-ish sort of voice that school worked you like a goddamn house pet to pay attention to.
The room was silent.
“Sit down, everyone. We’re here to help Jessica, aren’t we?”
The human-ish blobs murmured something like agreement.
Jecka furrowed her brow, “Help me?”
The woman smiled, “Yes, help you.” Her lipstick was red.
“What? Like rehab?”
Finally, Jecka got a good look at her. Her figure was first to take shape, an hourglass body practically pinched by a pepto-pink suit and pencil skirt. If her cleavage was less…spilling… she might look like one of those ‘power suit’ Moms from TV– she had the slick-shiny bun– the pointy headmaster’s glasses and terminally serious tone.
“Yes, think of it like rehab, Jessica, an intervention of sorts."
Dad cleared his throat, “Jessica, we’re intervening because—” he made a sweeping gesture around the room, “we have noticed some…concerning behaviour from you.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Jecka sighed. Could nobody see how high she was? “I’m like… fucked up.”
“Admitting you have a problem is a great first step,” the woman praised, writing something on a small clip-board.
“I just think you've been influenced by an unnatural way of thinking…" sighed Dad, "Look, what I’m saying is... do you remember that t.A.T.u. poster your Mom bought you? Well, I...well...”
Jecka blinked, “Huh?”
“Don't worry, I’ll take it from here,” The woman nodded, “So Jessica, my name is Lynda Lynn (A name that made Jecka imagine asking, "How's Lois Lane? "), and I’m here because we’ve all got some concerns. We believe you've been displaying some homosexual tendencies, and we’re here to help.”
“...What?”
“Your family and peers have noticed some ‘behaviours’ from you that lead us to believe you’re a lesbian. I work for an organisation known as ‘True Directions,’ think of it like homosexual rehab– or a school if that makes you more comfortable–” It did not. “At true directions we take homosexuals like yourself and…straighten them out, make them upstanding members of society. Learn the reasons behind your attractions and how to heal them.”
“So you’re like,” Jecka paused, swearing her brain was dripping from her ears, “From what? The Westboro Baptist Church? Can’t you just put me in normal rehab? I’m literally not even—”
“I found this in your room, Jecka,” sighed Dad, unrolling a large t.A.T.u. poster. It was the one with Julia and Lena, arms crossed, faces bursting with attitude, wearing white shirts with patterned underwear. Back when Mom was slightly sober (between her first and second heroin stint), she’d picked it up on the way back from work after Jecka had squealed about how cool they were at the VMAs. “This just isn’t appropriate…” Dad grumbled.
“I’ve had that since like…2003, and I'm not even— I mean— they’re not even real lesbians—""
Miss Lynn shook her head, “It’s gay iconography, Jessica.”
“No, they’re like Russian…”
“Russians can also struggle with homosexuality. It's more common than you might think,” hummed Miss Lynn, “Remember, the Russians did win last year’s Eurovision…”
“That’s not what I–"
Megan stood, “Eh-hem. Jecka, you keep this in your locker!” She held a crumpled Jennifer's body poster with the local cinema’s logo in the corner, making damn sure the entire room could see it, holding it high like some prize, “There are like, no pictures of guys in there, just Hayley Williams magazine pages and stuff from Megan Fox movies.”
“And I’ll fucking put it back in my locker!” When Jecka tried to stand, her knees buckled, sending her sinking back into the couch like a stone, “How the fuck did you even get that?!”
“Sexual imagery,” hummed Miss Lynn, writing something down.
"I'm your class president, Jecka. You should show me some more respect."
Then came Kelly, “Look, Jecka, I really think that most of all you need someone to talk to– I mean, you’re always turning down really hot guys and stuff, it’s just sad to see you that way…”
“Since when were you two even homophobic?"
Kelly smirked, “I’m now in a relationship with Jesus and God– changed a lot since you last saw me, huh?”
“Last time I saw you, you were literally in sex addict rehab because you wanted to fuck your cousin.”
“Jessica!” Growled Dad.
“Jessica!” hissed Miss Lynn through gritted teeth, “That is extremely inappropriate! Her therapy is not yours to discuss!”
“What the hell?” Kelly screeched, “What the fuck is your problem?!”
“That’s horrible!” Megan yelled, tugging Kelly toward the front door, “Don’t listen to her, remember your affirmations! Jecka, you'd better apologise!”
In your fucking dreams.
Jecka swore she heard the mantra ‘my cousin is not hot’ being chanted outside.
I'm too high for this shit— or maybe not high enough. Whatever.
Dad’s breath came in huffs– heavy, chesty breaths he’d take when he was just about to scream about how bad his heart was getting and how Jecka was gonna kill him someday.
“Thank you to…Kelly…” murmured Miss Lynn, “this is exactly why we staged this intervention. This attitude is simply unbecoming of a young lady. So, moving on, we have—”
“Um, Miss Lynn! I have something to add, if that’s alright,” a snorty sort of voice peeped.
“He’s here?” Jecka hissed. Packing up and leaving looked really good right now– that way, Jeffery wouldn’t know where she lived.
Miss Lynn sighed, adjusting her glasses, tapping her pen against her clipboard, “Yes, Jeffery? What is it that you’d like us to add?”
Jeffery made a snorty sort of noise, “Yes, well, I’d like to add two incidents of my own that have led me to believe Jecka here may be a… homosexual.”
“Oh my God..." Jecka winced.
“Yeah, so one day I was showing her one of my manga books in civics class. It’s a pretty niche one so I’m not sure if anyone here would have um… heard of it… but it goes by the name of ‘K- Kiss X Sis,’ it’s the story of two really really, really–” he began to heave, “rrreally, adorable girls called—”
Miss Lynn clicked her tongue, “Please spare us the details, Jeffery. We’re on a pretty tight schedule. Just say what you told me earlier.”
“Oh– oh! Of course Miss Lynn… so uh essentially Jecka was…looking at the pages a lot when I was reading it– she wasn’t talking to me either, just glancing at it now and then…like she was too distracted by the g- g- girls…to speak to me…everyone gets that way sometimes but…”
“I stared because I couldn’t fucking believe you were reading porn in civics!”
"Jessica! Language!" spat Dad.
Jeffery blushed, scratching the back of his neck in a cartoonishly sheepish ‘No I didn’t steal from the cookie jar’ way that made Jecka roll her eyes so hard she swore they might just lob out.
“It’s not pornographic! It’s extremely wholesome!”
Miss Lynn cleared her throat, “Is that all, Jeffery?”
“Oh no! I have one more thing.”
“...Go on.”
“Uh, so my second reason is that– Jecka once told me…after I…” his voice began to quiver, “–worked up the courage to ask her to hang out with me after school…that she wouldn’t even…have sex with me if I was the last man on earth. Now I’m sure that this means she’s either a huge liar or—” he adjusted his glasses, “or a lesbian."
The room was silent.
“Jeffery…how does not wanting to...have sex with you... make me a lesbian?"
“Because, notice how you said that you wouldn’t have sex with me if I were the last guy on earth. That’s hugely impractical. Every human wants to keep the human race going, and the fact that you’d choose ending humanity over heterosexual reproduction means you’re probably gay.”
Jecka almost choked.
“Thank you, Jeffery,” murmured Miss Lynn.
“You’re welcome, Miss Lynn!” he chirped.
“Now Jecka, I’m sure you’re rather overwhelmed. I see you’re still in denial, and I want you to know that this is natural. I see it in most patients, and we’re going to explore this denial at True Directions." Her voice was almost sterile— like how ghosts talk in movies. Too welcoming— warning enough for Jecka to decide that she was not going in any 'True Direction' any time soon.
“You’ll realise the truth soon, Jecka! Don’t even worry!” Squeaked Jeffery, extending a bony thumbs up toward her.
Jecka’s dad cleared his throat, straining a smile, “Think of it as lesbian rehab, sweetie. Homosexuals Anonymous.”
"You can't seriously just send me to some 'pray the gay away' camp! I'm seriously not—"
True directions was a screaming match with dad, a pink bus, and a highway away.
For some reason, she’d envisioned being smuggled in a trunk across state lines to some asscrack southern town famous for being Habsburg jaw ground zero and world's largest ball of yarn. But no, True Directions was just north– an hour away. Pretty odd when basically everyone you knew swore they voted for Obama.
Did gay people go through this a lot? She wasn't exactly straight— nobody really was, according to an article she'd read before…but she certainly wasn't a lesbian so all of this— the intervention, this gay camp 'True Directions' thing— was just unnecessary. I just need help— any help. She patted her bra, feeling the cig and lighter she’d slipped in whilst packing and let her eyelids sink. Maybe this is fine.
“We’re here!” Miss Lynn yelled sometime later, taking a handful of Jecka’s shoulder and shaking her like she owed her money.
With a yelp, Jecka jerked out of groggy, not-quite-awake and not-quite asleep.
As she stepped off the bus, a quaintly pink and white wooden colonial-style house that looked like it could neighbour Kent farm and the smell of wet earth greeted her.
Jecka bit her tongue.
“I’ll take this one,” smiled Miss Lynn, handling one of Jecka’s suitcases, “Now follow me inside– the others are waiting for you.”
As she followed, struggling with her suitcase up the path, she glanced behind her. The bus revved and began driving straight on– away, away, away until it became a pink dot on the horizon– a sick blister against the greenery.