Chapter Text
It was as if Jean had wanted to be caught, the way she’d laid the trail of clues leading to her real identity. As she was giving her speech, Jean saw Sid standing by the entrance door to the auditorium, regarding her with an intense stare. It gave Jean a thrill to see that Sid had tracked her down to the school. Now Sid knew everything, and the burden of deception she'd been carrying for so long was lifted at last. She felt exhilarated.
Jean looked back at the audience and concluded her talk. There was applause, and the principal came up onto the podium and shook her hand. Michael came up with Dolly, who hugged her, and other parents and teachers flocked round. When she looked back, Sid had disappeared into the night. Jean made all the right noises, but her thoughts kept returning to Sid. That expression on her face had been so mysterious. The game had just been taken to a whole new level. What would be Sid’s next move?
Finally, the event wound up. The Holloway family went outside and Jean scanned the parking lot, but there was no sign of Sid. Jean was disappointed and relieved at the same time. They got into the car and Michael drove, while Dolly chattered away in the back seat. Jean couldn’t resist checking her phone, pretending she was hoping for a message about Allison, but there was nothing. Michael gave her a suspicious look. It seemed he didn’t believe a word of the spiel she’d given him earlier. She’d thought she meant it, at the time, but one look at Sid’s face and the world had tilted on its axis.
When they got home, Michael took Dolly upstairs and Jean poured herself a generous Bulleit on the rocks. She had just taken the first sip when her phone buzzed. At last, a message from S. Jean gave herself a second to savor the anticipation, before her self-control expired. She took another swig and tapped in her passcode.
The message was a single sentence. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”
Jean considered her reply. In the end, it wasn’t the most articulate. “Maybe??!!”
She cursed herself for not being able to come up with something better. But she’d got Sid’s attention, that was the main thing. The phone buzzed again. “Now I know everything.”
Jean inhaled sharply. Was that a hint of blackmail? She needed to regain control of the situation, and think of something that would appeal to Sid’s twisted mind.
“Not quite ...” she typed, and pressed Send.
Another sip of bourbon. Another agonizing wait.
“Really? Do you want to explain?”
“Yes. When can I see you?” God, she sounded so needy, almost as needy as that pathetic dickhead Sam. But she couldn’t help it, she was in deep now. She rummaged in the back of one of the kitchen drawers and found her secret stash of cigarettes. She opened the window and lit one to calm her nerves.
The phone buzzed again. “Tomorrow. But only if I get an apology.”
Jean shuddered. She was at Sid’s mercy now. It was an intoxicating thought.
“Agreed.”
“My place 7 pm.”
“I’ll be there.”
Jean put the phone back on the counter and breathed. Michael came down the stairs and raised an eyebrow at the cigarette and empty glass, but Jean was in no condition to deal with his judgemental bullshit right now. She went up to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. What had she gotten herself into this time? Michael was still sleeping on the sofa downstairs so she was able to ease the tension in her own way, aided by fantasies of Sid in a tight red dress. Sid really should get a dress like that. Perhaps Jean would buy her one, if they ever made it to Marfa.
The next morning, Jean picked out her most bohemian outfit, a green dress with wavy patterns on it, zipped up her knee-high brown boots and applied her make-up and perfume, the one she'd copied from Sid. She had agreed with Michael that she would drop Dolly off at school and Stacey would pick her up. Jean sent a second, secret message to Stacey to ask her to stay till midnight if necessary. She wasn't sure how this evening was going to play out.
Jean had a long work day to get through, and struggled to concentrate on her patients complaining about all their personal problems. She ate her usual lunchtime yogurt and it was all she could do not to follow it up with a chaser of the pills hidden in her desk drawer. At long last the clock reached six and the wait was over. On the way out, Larin tried to engage her in conversation about something, but Jean made a vague excuse. Larin could obviously tell she was up to something but Jean could no longer be bothered even to pretend to give a fuck.
All she could think about was the full Sidney experience, part two.
Jean made her way to Bushwick and found the converted warehouse where Sid lived. With all the graffiti on the wall and trash in the stairwell, it was a far cry from her own picture-perfect house out in Darien, but so much more authentic. She closed her eyes and took a moment to compose herself, then knocked on the door. Sid opened it, wearing even more eyeliner than usual, a short black dress and biker boots. It was the same combination she’d worn at the restaurant a few days ago, when the sight had taken Jean’s breath away, and it had the same effect this time. Jean devoured Sid with her eyes. She was so fucking perfect.
Sid smirked. “Well, what do you know,” she said, extending a hand to grab Jean’s scarf, and pulling her inside. Sid kicked the door shut, span Jean round and pushed her up against it. Jean was breathing heavily, feeling as if she’d just walked into a lion’s den. Sid unwound Jean’s scarf and slid a hand up the side of her bare neck. Dark music was playing in the background, Jean wasn’t sure what exactly, these bands all sounded the same.
“Hello - Diane,” said Sid with a sneer.
Jean stuttered and before she could get any words out, Sid kissed her forcefully, tongue invading Jean’s mouth without hesitation. Jean closed her eyes. The kiss went on for some time, then Sid pushed her back.
“Sorry, I forgot. Hostessing 101. Let me get your coat. A drink?”
Jean nodded warily, unsure of Sid’s mood, and took off her coat. She found a place to sit, while Sid went over to the fridge and got out a bottle of bourbon and some ice. She placed two glasses on the coffee table, sat down next to Jean and poured the drinks. Sid knocked hers back and Jean followed suit. Sid refilled the glasses.
“So, I guess you’re wondering…” started Jean.
Sid cut her off. “Not a word out of you until I get my apology.”
Jean looked around, awkwardly.
“Those were the terms,” continued Sid. “You agreed to them. I have it in writing.” She indicated her phone, lying on the table. Jean wasn’t going to be able to delete that particular text in a hurry.
“Yes, but…”
“Don’t do that. You’re just making it worse for yourself,” said Sid. “Do you have any idea how you made me feel?”
“Shit,” thought Jean. Sid really was upset with her.
“All that crap you came out with about how manipulative I am, how I like to fuck with people, how reckless I am with people’s feelings. While you were living a double fucking life all along! Unless that was your identical twin fucking sister up on that stage?”
“I’m sorry,” said Jean, softly.
“What’s that? I didn’t hear you,” said Sid.
“I said I’m sorry,” repeated Jean, looking her in the eye.
“Well, you will be by the time I’ve finished with you,” said Sid.
This sounded dangerous. Jean remembered the bullets she had seen in Sid’s drawer. Perhaps she shouldn’t have messed with this girl after all. Feeling suddenly panicky, Jean darted a glance at the door, but Sid grabbed her by the arm.
“And the Academy Award goes to… You can stop the act. I know you’ve been dying for this,” said Sid.
Jean froze. Sid could read her better than she’d realized. “What do you have in mind?”
“You don’t get to ask questions. We’re not playing that game this time,” said Sid. “Tonight, I’m in charge. You have to do whatever I say.”
“It seems I don’t have a choice,” said Jean, breathing raggedly.
“None whatsoever,” said Sid.
Fuck, I should have taken those pills while I had the chance, thought Jean. She tried to think of something to lighten the tone. “I hope it’s not going to involve dancing.”
Sid laughed, leaned over and traced a finger across Jean’s cheekbone. “No. This time, it’s going to be far, far worse than that,” she said with a wicked smile.