Archive of Our Own

“I’m serious, Shauna! Randy likes you!” 

She wishes Jackie would just drop it. Anybody with half a brain could tell Randy Walsh liked her- this wasn’t new information. Shauna just didn’t care how Randy felt about her. He didn’t matter, not really. Not to her. 

“I dunno. He’s just… it’s Randy,” Shauna mumbles, trying to keep her eyes closed while Jackie cups her chin and brushes eyeliner onto the bottom of Shauna’s eyelids. She didn’t know how to even begin to explain why nothing Randy thought mattered, especially not to Jackie, of all fucking people. Jackie’s fingers were too warm on her face. It was distracting, honestly, the feeling of Jackie touching her. Like her whole body was on fire. She couldn’t focus. Shauna squirmed a little under Jackie’s hand. 

“Oh my god, Shauna, stop moving. I’m gonna poke you in the eye,” Jackie tightens her grip on Shauna’s face, trying to keep her steady. “What do you have against Randy, anyway? He’s cute.” 

Shauna scoffs a little. “You’re kidding, right? He’s an idiot.” She’s glad that she can’t see Jackie’s face when she says this- she can picture the disappointed expression too well, from all the times she’d seen it before. All upturned eyebrows and pouts and flushed cheeks. She had no desire to see it again.

Jackie sighs a little, and Shauna can feel her breath, warm on her face. Her ears burn, red hot, although she can’t quite place why. Maybe Jackie won’t notice. “I wish you would at least try, Shauna. You haven’t even talked to Randy.” 

For somebody who’s supposed to be her best friend, sometimes Jackie really doesn’t understand how Shauna operates. It shouldn’t be a shocker that she doesn’t want to have a conversation with Randy fucking Walsh, but Jackie can’t seem to pick up on that. Jackie’s just used to Shauna following her around, like some sort of lost puppy. She loves Jackie, honestly, she does, but it’s fucking exhausting sometimes, going along with whatever plans she has. 

That’s always the thing with Jackie. She looks at Shauna, eyes wide and a little pout on her face, and it’s impossible for her to say no. Shauna hadn’t even wanted to wear makeup, but Jackie gave her the eyes and her hand was on Shauna’s thigh, and it was like Shauna physically can’t say no. Shauna Shipman- yet another victim of Jackie Taylor’s spell. At least Jackie had promised to keep it subtle (although, you could never really be sure what counted as “ subtle ” to Jackie).

She can deal with soccer, even though she’d rather be playing softball. She’d go along with Rutgers, even though she’d rather be applying to Brown. But she was not going to give in and date Randy Walsh. Shauna has higher standards than him and the rest of Jeff's stupid baseball friends that Jackie seems intent on setting her up with, like she’s trying to pawn Shauna off or something.

“Jackie.” 

“Jesus, okay. I’m just trying to help, Shauna.” 

The scowl on her face must be pretty gnarly, because Jackie finally stops talking about Randy.  Small blessings, even if Jackie refuses to apologize for anything. You would think that by now Jackie would get the hint. Still, Shauna can’t help the small pit in the bottom of her stomach that starts developing any time she makes Jackie feel bad. 

It’s stupid, and she knows it, because it’s not like Jackie has ever particularly cared how Shauna feels. Or maybe she does, and she just doesn’t realize when she’s hurting Shauna, or being too much. Shauna is always the one who has to think about Jackie’s feelings, skate around her words to make sure Jackie doesn’t get upset. It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter.

“Okay, you can open your eyes.” 

The first thing Shauna notices is how close Jackie’s face is to hers. Like, uncomfortably close. The second thing is the way that Jackie’s eyes flick down, once, then twice. 

“Uh, Jackie?” Shauna sits up a little, trying not to meet Jackie’s eyes- she can’t quite figure out where this pit in her stomach- this sudden inability to look at Jackie straight in the eyes- comes from. This feeling in her chest that makes her feel like her heart is on fire whenever Jackie is a little too close. The way she’d been feeling since she was 9 years old, spending the night at Jackie’s house for the first time. 

“Jackie?” 

“Sorry!  Sorry.” Jackie jumps back, and Shauna can’t pretend like she doesn’t miss the feeling of Jackie’s knee digging into the outside of her thigh. 

“You look amazing, Shauna, honest. You really need to let me do your makeup more often.”

“Yeah, right,” Shauna scoffs, sliding her legs off the side of her bed in order to face the mirror in the corner of the room. Jackie rests behind Shauna, resting her chin in the crook of her shoulder and running her hands gently through Shauna's hair. The feeling of Jackie’s hands tangled in her hair, scraping the nape of her neck, sends a shock through her spine that feels like an electric current.

“See? Beautiful.” 

Jackie’s technically right. She looks good. Better than normal, with the blush adding a little more color to her frankly dead looking cheeks, and the eyeliner making her eyes stand out. But it doesn’t really look like Shauna . It’s like some alternate version of her, who’s maybe a little more like Jackie and a little less different . The kind of girl who would jump at the chance to go on a date with Randy Walsh. The way she is now, though, it just looks wrong on her face.

She doesn’t want Jackie to feel bad, though, so instead of trying to voice the mix of emotions swirling around in her brain, she just nods and forces an unnatural smile. It seems to make Jackie happy, anyway, so she tries not to mind too much. 

“You’re right about Randy. He is an idiot. You deserve a good guy,” Jackie says quietly, so quiet that Shauna can barely hear, like she’s being let in on some sort of secret. “You deserve whatever you want.” 

The thought that immediately infiltrates her brain is too much- too much for this moment, for tonight, for ever, really, so she pushes it deep, deep, down. ( I want you, I want you, I want you, I just want you.) This is something for future Shauna to worry about (and god, will future Shauna think about this moment until the day she dies), and so present Shauna just swallows her feelings. It’s easier than the alternative- the thought that the feeling in her chest that blooms whenever she’s with Jackie could actually mean something. 

One of Jackie’s hands untangles itself from Shauna’s hair, rests on the bed, only an inch away from Shauna’s. 

Her hand is close to Jackie’s. So close it’s almost torture. If she were to move her hand just an inch, it would be on top of hers. Her pinkie twitches towards Jackie’s hand, so unassuming at first, with the pink painted nails and the smooth back of her hand, but also calloused and rough on the palms from years of sliding around on the field. There’s a scar on her ring finger, from when they were twelve and a kid on the other team stepped on her finger during a game. Jackie had cried, and cried, and Shauna had held her until they got to the emergency room. Shauna had insisted on going- she had been holding onto Jackie so hard it almost hurt- and Jackie’s parents figured it wasn’t worth the fight. Her hands tell a story, one that Shauna has been there for every step of the way, from their first little league game to their loss in the championship at state last year, and now to this new chapter, their senior year. She wonders if Jeff realizes that.

Everything that’s difficult about being Jackie’s best friend fades away during moments like this, with Jackie looking at her like she’s the only thing that matters. Jackie’s smile is fucking radiant. She’s practically glowing. It’s not like the practiced smile that Shauna has seen her wear so many times- when she’s talking to Jeff, the team, her parents- the one that stretches a little too wide and looks almost painful, even though Shauna is the only one who can tell. She’s spent so long staring at Jackie, memorizing her features and the smile she wears when she’s with Shauna. It’s raw, and it’s real and it’s imperfect, and it’s just so Jackie . Shauna lives for moments like these, with just the two of them. It’s all worth it.

“Alrighty!” Jackie untangles her other hand from Shauna’s hair and jumps to her feet, like she’s snapping out of a trance. She clears her throat, very obviously disoriented, and it almost sounds like she’s choking. Maybe she’s just as nervous for tonight as Shauna is. She doubts it, but it’s a nice thought. “We should get going. You ready for this?” 

The truthful answer was no, absolutely not, under any circumstances.

“As ready as I can be, I guess.”

“Just.. try to have fun, okay?” Jackie looks at her with those too big eyes that make her look a little like a doe, and Shauna can’t disappoint her. Fuck Jackie and her stupid deer eyes. She holds out a hand expectantly, raising her eyebrows.

“Okay. Fine,” Shauna gives in, reluctantly taking Jackie’s hand (calloused on the palm, smooth on the back, tiny, almost imperceptible scars on her fingers that only Shauna can see) and letting her pull her to her feet. “The things I do for you.”

“Oh, shut up. You know you love me.” 

Shauna rolls her eyes, bumping Jackie in the shoulder. “In your dreams, Taylor.” Jackie gasps, pressing a hand to her chest, pretending to be offended. Neither of them can hide their smiles, though, no matter how hard Shauna may try to suppress it. They both know the truth. Shauna loves Jackie so much it hurts, but that’s left unspoken.

She has the rest of her life to worry about this. (The rest of her life to worry about all the things she did wrong.) 

For now, all she has to do is take Jackie’s hand and hope this night isn’t a total shitshow.

She should have known better than to hope, because of fucking course this night is a total shitshow. The party was all the way in Holmdel, about a 45 minute drive from Wiskayok. Jeff had known the host, Arnold Walker- their dads were friends, went to high school together or something like that- and this kid was fucking loaded. Holmdel was like some far away dream for most kids in Wiskayok, so for Jackie, it had been a big fucking deal to get an invite to a Holmdel party. 

Naturally, Jackie had told all the Yellowjackets. Mari was practically salivating when Jackie started talking about it. Nat and Mari had practically strong-armed Jackie into an invite- Nat said she wanted to go for that good rich person vodka, and Mari was obsessed with the idea of meeting some cute, rich Holmdel boy who would fall madly in love with her. 

The rest of the team (except for Allie, because nobody wanted to deal with a drunk freshman, and Misty, who everyone had forgotten about) had decided to tag along too, and suddenly Jackie’s big Holmdel outting had become a Yellowjackets team event. Shauna had kind of figured that Jackie was a little upset about it- the Holmdel party was something for Jackie to flaunt, some pretty, shiny thing that only she had access to. It was just the way she was. If she did have any particular feelings about it, though, she didn’t say anything. 

As soon as they walk through the obnoxiously large doors of Arnold’s obnoxiously large craftsman-esque mansion, Jackie is immediately swept away by an already pretty buzzed Jeff. What complete bullshit, because Jackie was the one who made Shauna come here in the first place- she hadn’t even wanted to go, and now Jackie is just leaving her alone. Her promise to try to have fun is already forgotten. 

It’s a typical high school party, just like the ones that Jackie had dragged her to before. The air already smelled distinctly of weed- Arnold would have a fun time explaining that to his parents whenever they came back. 

The house is already packed full of drunk teenagers, which isn’t a surprise, but it doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable for Shauna, who usually only lets Jackie- and the rest of her teammates, but usually just Jackie- touch her. The worst part about these parties is all the people ramming into her, touching her, or god forbid, trying to dance with her. 

The music they were playing was shit, too. Jackie always said that Shauna got too pretentious and moody about music, but come on, how can anyone listen to this? Her music may be broody, but at least it’s good. The bass is pounding in her ears, but in a distinctly uncomfortable way, like something is shaking her brain around in her skull. It’s too loud, it’s too much- which is always the problem with these fucking parties. It’s all too much. Shauna has only been here for 5 minutes, and she’s already wishing she was at home.

Left to her own devices, Shauna did the only thing that she could think of, which was to find the drinks and then find a quiet enough corner she could hang out in until Jackie decided it was time to go. It was her usual strategy for these kinds of parties. 

It takes forever to find the drinks in Arnold’s absolute maze of a house. Shauna is just wandering, completely hopeless, searching for usual signs of alcohol. Shauna pushes her way through the foyer, then the living room, through the wave of buzzed teenagers and bad dancing. After a few minutes of picking her way around the house, she finally finds the bar (what kind of house has a bar?) God , does she need a drink. Alcohol would be the only thing to make tonight bearable. She’d been appointed the designated driver by Jackie, though, so she had to settle for finding a soda. 

After retrieving her drink and avoiding talking to a completely hammered boy with his hair flopping down over his forehead and his polo half unbuttoned already trying to talk to her about the economy, she made her way back to the living room and found her quiet corner. It was still packed, albeit a little less, but it was much more calm. The music wasn’t quite so loud, and most of them were just there to smoke. It was as good a place as any for Shauna to make camp for the next few hours. 

It’s just like Jackie, dragging her to a stupid party right before conditioning starts, and then immediately leaving her stranded in an ocean of completely buzzed teenagers. She knows she promised Jackie she would try to have fun, she knows, but high school parties just aren’t for her. Especially when she’s sober. She’d rather have stayed home, just with Jackie, watching a stupid movie. Hell, she would even let Jackie paint her nails.

Jackie is with Jeff, in the center of the crowd, dancing to some shitty pop song. Jeff is making a big show of grabbing her ass, like she’s some sort of trophy for him to grope in front of half the fucking student body. They’ve been attached at the lips for the past half hour, and it looks like Jeff is trying to eat her. Their bodies don’t fit together- he’s too tall, too overpowering, and it just doesn’t work. It looks so wrong to Shauna, seeing Jackie with him.

It’s a performance, with the spotlight shining down on the leads of the shitty show while they force everybody else in their general vicinity to watch. Shauna would like to look away (because honestly, who would want to watch Jeff Sadecki slobber all over anyone, much less her best friend), but it’s like a train wreck she can’t look away from. She can’t tear her eyes away from Jackie, with her hands on Jeff’s shoulders, and his hands all over her body. He doesn’t deserve her- nobody does, not really, but especially not Jeffrey fucking Sadecki.

Shauna doesn’t get why Jackie is still with him. Ever since freshman year, they would fight, they would break up, be mad at each other for, at most, a week, and then get back together. Rinse and repeat for 4 years. It’s an endless cycle of fucking misery for everyone involved, and Shauna is always left to be the shoulder to lean on whenever Jeff fucks up (because it’s always Jeffs fault). It’s routine, at this point. Jackie will stay at Shauna’s house for a night or two- Shauna will know exactly the right movies to play to cheer her up, what flavors of ice cream are her favorite, and she’ll be the one to hold Jackie while she cries, all the while Jeff is out making out with some other girl the night after they break up. 

Every single time, after a few days of sulking, Jackie comes back to him, groveling, like she’s the one who messed up. Like she was the one who never supported him, went to his games, remembered their fucking anniversary, like she somehow needs this waste of space that she calls a boyfriend. Shauna watches her best friend degrade herself for this waste of fucking space. 

Jeff isn’t anything special- he’s a mediocre baseball player that only made it on varsity his senior year as a bench warmer, he has severe personality issues, and he treats her like shit. He’s not even hot- he’s all lanky, like he isn’t quite aware of how much space he takes up, and he always has that stupid, cocky grin on his face, like he’s the best thing to happen since sliced bread. It would take hours for Shauna to list off all the things that are wrong with him. But still, Jackie keeps coming back for more. He’s like a parasite, attaching himself to Jackie’s brain and spreading all over, until he’s taken some sort of sick hold on her. His influence is all over Jackie- the way she laughs whenever she’s around anyone that isn’t Shauna, the makeup she wears, the way she dresses. His undeserving hands on her body. She thinks about what Jackie said earlier, about how she deserves a good guy. Does Jackie not see that she deserves the same? That she deserves better than him ?

And still, Shauna always comes in second to Jeff fucking Sadecki. The moment he’s around, Shauna is all but forgotten, and Jackie is hanging off of his arm.

She wishes she understood. She really wishes she did. She wishes she understood why Jackie lets him touch her, lets him treat her like some sort of exclusive collectible. Shauna sees him shove his tongue down her throat, and his hand dips a little too low, and she feels nauseous, and she just wants to yell at him to get off, to get away from her best friend. 

Of course, she can’t. So instead she just watches, the sick feeling in her stomach growing with every moment. 

“Shipman!” 

She turns just in time to see Van crashing into her, her breath carrying the scent of cheap liquor. 

“Shipman, isn’t this fun? Are you having fun?” Van giggles into her side, hugging her tightly by the waist. 

“Van, holy shit!” Shauna grabs her by the shoulders, trying to keep her from falling straight on her ass. Van’s got that dumb, wolfish grin plastered on her face that she always has when she’s hammered, that reaches all the way past her eyes. She looks like she’s never been happier to see anyone in her life, which is funny, because Van and Shauna aren’t even friends, not really. Just teammates. 

“Ship. Shipman. Shauna. C’mon, we gotta take shots. You gotta go take a shot with me.”

She opens her mouth to start saying no, but Van is already grabbing her hand and pulling her over to the counter, with Shauna’s mouth still hanging open like a trout. There's shot glasses already at the ready at the counter, right next to a bottle of vodka, lime, and salt.

“I don’t know, Van, maybe this isn’t the best idea-” Shauna looks off to the side, trying to see if she could spot Tai in the crowd, who’s the official Van wrangler at parties. But Tai is nowhere to be seen, and Van is pulling on her arm, already setting up the glasses.

“Don’t be a pussy, Shipman! They have chasers,” Van lets go of Shauna’s arm and starts pouring out the shots. Arnold doesn’t have shot glasses, so instead Van is just using a red solo cup. Shauna absolutely does not trust Van to not pour in way too much. She glances over at Jackie, still dancing with Jeff, looking right at home, and not giving a second thought about Shauna. Shauna is supposed to be the designated driver. She’s supposed to get Jackie home after. 

(Shauna didn’t want to be the designated driver. Jackie decided that for her. Shauna didn’t want to be the designated driver. She needed a drink. ) 

But she can’t just leave Van alone, and well, she’s here, so she might as well. All she can think about is how Jackie would’ve never let Shauna do something like this, not when she was the designated driver. Jackie would be pissed. Jackie would never let Shauna be so fucking stupid, and for some reason, that’s what tips Shauna over the edge. 

“Alright, Palmer. Let’s do this shit.” 

“And you know, Van, I don’t even get it, ‘cause like- y’know, I’ve done everything for her, right,” Shauna stumbles her way through the sentence, not even sure what she’s trying to say. She just knows she needs to say it. 

Van and Shauna had always gotten along. It’s not like they were friends or anything, but Van was easy to get along with. Never too serious, like Tai, or overbearing, like Jackie. Really, the only person Van didn’t get along with was Allie, and, well, it was pretty difficult for anybody to get along with Allie (but damn if Van didn’t try). So yeah, Van and Shauna got along. They skirted alongside each other, worked well together in games, had amiable, if not stunted, conversation if they needed to, just the basic tenets of being teammates. 

If Shauna was being honest, the real reason that she and Van weren’t friends was probably because of Jackie. Jackie and Tai were both, well, strong personalities. Shauna had nothing against Tai or Van- she quite liked them, actually. She’s always suspected that Jackie is a little insecure over the fact that Tai would be a better captain, and should’ve been captain. You can tell in the way that Tai naturally commands the field in a way that nobody else can, the way that Tai fights like nobody else can. Jackie’s a good captain- a great one, even, but there’s no denying that Tai would’ve been a better one.

(Tai has her flaws, of course- she’s cutthroat. She’s a fighter. Jackie was the safe choice.)

Since there’s no Van without Tai, and no Tai without Van- they were basically a package deal- Shauna had always kept her distance. Jackie loves everyone on that team, she does- but that doesn’t mean she likes them, and since she didn’t like Tai, it seemed like the easiest thing for everyone involved. An unspoken rule, if you will.

But something about the combination of Shauna’s heightened emotions, about Jackie, about the team, about Randy fucking Walsh, and, of course, the booze, just made her and Van click. 

Why did she never talk to Van before? Because Jackie wouldn’t like it? What did Shauna care about how Jackie felt? Jackie never seemed to care what Shauna thought- about soccer, about Rutgers, about the makeup she was wearing right at this moment that weighed down on her face. She just expected Shauna to want to do what she wanted to- it wasn’t even malicious, it was just the way that Jackie was. She was too wrapped up in herself for her own good, and if she was being honest, Shauna was probably a little too wrapped up in Jackie. 

But you know what? Van was freaking awesome, and for once, Shauna wasn’t concerned with Jackie’s feelings. 

After a few too many shots and an incredibly messy game of beer pong, Van and Shauna have found their way back into the corner where Shauna was standing at the start of the night. Now, though, they’re both sitting on the floor, Vans legs on top of Shauna’s, and Shauna’s head on Vans shoulder. It felt nice for Shauna to just let it all out- all the feelings that she’s had, and never voiced before. She really needed to start drinking more.

“You’re so fucking right, Shaw- can I call you Shaw? I’m calling you Shaw- you’re so fucking right. You gotta say something, man!” Van shifts to sit up on her elbows and look Shauna in the eyes, which, tragically, moves her head off of Van's shoulders. Shauna pouts a little, her head lulling without the support of Van as her makeshift pillow. If Van notices, she doesn’t say anything. “You’re your own person, man!” 

After her mini tirade, Van flops back down onto her back. Shauna is grateful to have her headrest back, and, even in her drunken state, she thinks Van likes to be of service. Van’s shirt, which tastefully read I Love Hot Moms, was covered in beer stains, and smelled like teenage B.O. Van would probably be upset about it the next day, but for now, she seemed happy to just lie there, her legs over Shauna’s, their hands clasped, and Shauna running her fingers along the veins on Van’s forearm. 

Shauna is still cradling her 5th beer when Van suddenly bolts upright, staring at her with a crazed look in her eyes. She immediately knows this is going to be a nightmare- Van’s ideas were notoriously stupid, even when she’s sober.

“Come on, Shaw. We’re finding her.” Van extracts her legs from the tangle of limbs and stands up, pulling Shauna up with her. 

“Wait, Van, what are you doing, Van-” Shauna starts to whisper-scream at Van, looking around desperately to see if Jackie is anywhere in their vicinity. Fortunately, Jackie is nowhere to be seen in the crowd. “Van Palmer, get back here right now!” 

Arnold Walker's house is unfamiliar to both of them, but Van is power walking through the halls of that house with a purpose. The house is surprisingly big- bigger than it looks from the outside, anyway. Most of the party was happening in the basement, the living room, and the kitchen. The upstairs area was uncharted territory, but that didn’t seem to matter to Van right now. Shauna is trailing behind her, desperately trying to pull her back to their safe little corner.

“Van, I’m so serious right now, I know where you sleep,” Shauna hisses as Van peeks into the bedrooms upstairs. 2 of the bedrooms are empty, but 1 is occupied by an incredibly… eager couple, to say the least. They’re too wrapped up with each other (or inside each other) to notice Van quietly shut the door. Van makes a gagging noise, and grins over at Shauna like she isn’t about to totally ruin Shauna’s life. 

Unfortunately for Shauna, Van has luck with the fourth door.

Nat looks positively fucking awful , leaning over the toilet, deep bags under her eyes and a gross mixture of saliva and throwup dribbling out of her mouth. Jackie is kneeling behind her, holding back her hair and rubbing her back. It’s a rather strange scene- Jackie taking care of Nat. It must be really bad if Nat is letting anybody, much less Jackie, take care of her. 

It’s not a shocker to see Natalie Scatorccio in the bathroom after a night of drinking. Nat isn’t by any means a lightweight- she can handle her liquor- but she always drinks more than she should, and every late night ends basically the same. Shauna’s surprised she hasn’t had to have her liver pumped or something like that yet. Usually, though, Nat holes herself up alone until she’s thrown up all she can. She doesn’t accept help.

Nat and Jackie don’t really get along. It’s a natural disposition. Nat causes chaos- she’s a damn good player, but she’s a wildcard. You never know when she’s going to show up drunk at practice, or when she’s just not going to show up at all. The only guarantee about Nat is that she never misses a game, she kicks absolute ass, and she’s always there for her team when she needs to be. 

Jackie likes safety- she likes security. 

(Maybe that’s why she always comes crawling back to Jeff.) 

Nat is the opposite of that. She’s everything that Jackie isn’t- she’s comfortable in herself, free in her expression and the way that she is. Everything with Jackie is a performance- Shauna is probably the only person to have seen the real Jackie Taylor. Nat simply doesn’t care what people think.

Jackie respects her as much as she can- she respects the way that Natalie just is, without concern. The way that she can show up at a game and be there for her team, without worrying about judgment from other people. Nat bleaches her own hair, imperfectly and patchy, wears whatever the fuck she wants, listens to whatever music she wants, sleeps with whoever she wants. Jackie puts her everything into the way that she’s perceived- Shauna has seen her countless hours of putting together the perfect outfit, perfecting her makeup, how she does her hair, finding the perfect boyfriend. There’s a natural disposition there, in the way that Jackie cares too much, and Nat couldn’t give a single shit if she tried.

If she’s being honest, Shauna thinks that Jackie is maybe a little too hard on her. Anyone who’s met Nat can tell that her drinking is a problem- it’s not news. And yeah, she needs to get her shit together, but Nat has never truly been an issue when they’re actually playing. She supports her teammates, and she’s always there for the Yellowjackets. Hell, when it comes down to it, Nat is honestly the nicest person on the team. She never runs out of patience if she knows that you’re trying. For all the things that Nat doesn’t seem to care about, she really does give a shit about soccer.

Jackie can be pretty convincing, when she needs to be- she gets those big doe eyes and nobody can really say no to her- and that’s probably why Nat is letting her do this. No matter how much she and Nat might disagree, no matter her personal opinions, Jackie will never leave one of her teammates alone like this.

Perhaps most strange of all, though, is Lottie, lying down in the yellowing bathtub, cradling a half empty bottle of vodka like it's her child. Her eyes are shut tight, brows furrowed, and nose scrunched, like she’s trying to squeeze her entire face together, and she’s murmuring something under her breath that sounds like gay, gay, homosexual, gay, which is, you know, interesting. If it were anybody else, Shauna would probably be a little concerned, but Lottie Matthews has always been a little special like that. Lottie looks perfectly at home in this too big house, and this too big bathtub. Rich people, man.

Lottie is a little like a cat- her eyes always flitting around, jumping at things that nobody else seems to see, like she’s privy to something that other people can’t see. There’s something about her eyes, too, covered by a curtain of dark bangs, that’s distinctly feline. She kind of slinks around like a cat. She’s probably the tallest girl at Wiskayok High, so she’s always a little hunched over, like she’s trying to hide how much space she takes up. Despite her towering over most of the girls on the team, except for maybe Tai, and her impossible amount of money, Lottie is impossible to be scared of. She’s surprisingly down to earth, considering the whole rich person thing, and real easy to talk to, not to mention her amazing footwork out on the field. 

Drunk Lottie is a very different version of normal Lottie- she’s something of a psychic. She becomes someone entirely different, someone a whole lot weirder. Her eyes, which are normally pretty freaky anyway, stare right through you, like she’s seeing your aura, taking a peek into your soul or something like that. Lottie doesn’t have any of the normal symptoms of being drunk, or even tipsy- she’s perfectly concise and well spoken, walks in a straight line fine, and Shauna has seen her take 5 shots without even being fazed. Lottie just gets like a mind-reader when she’s drunk. She always knows what’s going on- it’s pretty scary, actually. Shauna’s always figured it’s some sort of rich girl thing, even though she has no evidence to back it up. Maybe all that money messes with your system.

“Jackie! Hey, Jackie. Shauna’s got something that she… that uh, she wants to say to you,” Van slurs her way through the sentence, leaning against the door for support. Shauna wishes Van wasn’t so damn short, because there’s nothing more she wants to do then hide behind her and pretend she isn’t there.

 “Fuck, Van! Jesus, you scared me,” Jackie jumps, pulling a little on Natalie’s hair, which earns a little growl from Nat. Lottie lifts her head a little, opening one eye, and after seeing it’s just Van and Shauna, resumes her strange bathtub ritual. Maybe she’s seeing the future or something. 

“You mind?” Nat groans, glaring back at her. Jackie’s sweater, which Shauna knows for a fact is her favorite, is absolutely covered in Nat’s puke. Nat doesn’t seem to look like she feels the least bit bad about it, but she’s also a little preoccupied with emptying her guts into the toilet right now. 

“Sorry, sorry, Nat,” Jackie murmurs apologetically. She runs her fingers through Nat’s hair, just like she did with Shauna’s earlier, and Shauna really shouldn’t feel jealous of a girl who is currently emptying her guts into Arnold Walker’s toilet right now. Sue her, okay? Her only comfort is that Jackie looks more annoyed than anything, her jaw set forward, her eyebrows furrowed, and her expression tight- not the way she looked at Shauna, like she was the only thing that mattered. Like in that moment, Jackie wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. That look in her eyes, that was something for Shauna and Shauna alone. That’s hers.

God, she really is pathetic.

She can’t do this. She really, truly, can’t do this. What’s she supposed to say? Everything that she told Van is swirling around in her head, and the pit at the bottom of her stomach is growing, and she feels sick, and she absolutely, fundamentally, can’t do this. 

Van elbows her in the ribs hard, which is extremely unnecessary, but she gets the point. “Come on, Shaw, don’t be a pussy,” Van says, right into her ear, slurring the words together. She’s trying to whisper, but she has very little awareness right now, so it comes out much louder than she intends. 

Well, no backing out now. Thanks, Van. 

“Hey, uh- Jax, can I talk to you?” Shauna shuffles her feet, staring at the back of Jackie’s head. Jackie isn’t looking at her- she’s entirely focused on Nat right now, which, okay, Shauna can admit that's fair, since she’s still actively throwing up. She doesn’t really want to look Jackie in the eyes right now, anyways. If she did, if she looked at Jackie’s face, she would pussy out and she knows it, but she needs to talk to her. 

Jackie looks back at her, still with that annoyed look on her face. “What? Shauna, she’s throwing up. I can’t just leave her,” Jackie scoffs, and starts to turn back to Nat.

“I can do it,” Lottie volunteers, sitting up on her hands with the vodka bottle still on her lap. She’s stopped her weird chant, although nobody had really noticed until now. If it were anyone but Lottie, Jackie would never let anybody who’d consumed that much alcohol take over babysitting duties, but, well, it was Lottie. All Lottie did when she was drunk was tell you cryptic shit and then continue on as normal. Most of the team even suspected that Lottie could probably drive completely normal while drunk, although nobody really wanted to test this theory (except maybe Nat). 

Jackie raises her eyebrows skeptically. “Are you sure you’re feeling up for that?”

Which, yeah, is probably a valid question, but she’s been around Lottie enough that she should know that a drunk Lottie is capable of most things that a sober Lottie is able to do. Maybe Shauna is just finding reasons to be annoyed at Jackie right now- reasons to back out of this conversation.

Lottie just shrugs. “I feel fine.” 

There seems to be a very serious mental battle going on in Jackie’s brain right now. Jackie knows as well as anyone how capable Lottie is while drunk, but she still gets really paranoid about these kinds of stuff. Like she’s automatically responsible for everyone on the Yellowjackets, so if something goes wrong, it’ll be on her. 

After a very critical once-over of Lottie in the tub, Jackie finally nods. “Okay. If you’re sure,” she says, although she still seems a little uncertain. “Just make sure that you’re-”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got experience.” Lottie shoots her a quick grin and swings her legs out of the bathtub. 

Jackie nods, and makes her way into the hallway, staring expectantly at Shauna. Shauna is still standing there, like an idiot. Her feet feel glued to the floor. 

Shauna swallows quickly and follows Jackie out the door. (Following, follows, always a follower.)

The floor is shaking softly underneath their feet from the pounding bass of the music down on the floor below. Shauna can still hear it, although now much softer. She knows this song, very vaguely- something Jackie had made her listen to months ago. Jackie’s hair is falling over her face, and her bangs are plastered to her forehead by sweat. Shauna hadn’t noticed before. Her shoes, a pair of Jackie’s heels that she had lent Shauna, seem very fascinating right now. 

“Well? What’s up?” Jackie crosses her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. 

Her hands are sweating, and she quickly shoves them in her pockets, hoping Jackie doesn’t notice. She tears her eyes away from her shoes to try and look Jackie in the eye. “So I was talking to Van, and I think- well, you know-” She’s tripping over her sentences, and she knows it, and she knows that Jackie can tell. The words are all jumbled in her head, and she can’t quite pull together the right words to say what she needs to say. 

“Are you drunk?” Jackie asks incredulously, taking a step towards Shauna. She pulls on her arm, bringing them closer together so that Jackie can investigate. 

“I- uh, I just did a few shots. It’s not a big deal.”

As soon as Shauna says it, she knows it was a mistake. 

“Not a big- you’re the designated driver!” Jackie releases Shauna’s arm and shoves her back a little. She looks so pissed already. Shauna knew this was a bad idea. She should’ve just stayed downstairs with Van, distracted her with another game of beer pong, anything to keep her as far away from Jackie as possible. 

And yet, a single thought in her mind pervades- she didn’t want to be the designated driver. Jackie hadn’t even asked if she wanted to be the designated driver, couldn’t even comprehend that Shauna didn’t want to be of service to Jackie. Does she just see Shauna as someone waiting around for her always, who doesn’t exist when she isn’t in the room?

Jackie and Shauna hardly ever fight. When they had fought for the first time, in first grade, Shauna had cried for two days straight. She had thought Jackie would never talk to her again. She doesn’t even remember what it was about, anymore, but she knew that she never wanted to do that again. She and Jackie weren’t meant to fight. 

They’d fought more, over the years, of course. It’s always something petty, something stupid. Shauna is always the one to diffuse the situation. When they fight, Shauna can’t operate as usual. There’s a chorus in her head that just keeps repeating, Jackie, Jackie, Jackie. Not talking to Jackie is weird. It’s painful, like there’s a part of her being torn away. She’s lived her entire life with Jackie; how is she supposed to go through her life without her?

(Even later, Shauna never quite gets the hang of it.)

Sometimes the fight is her fault, sometimes it’s Jackie’s. Sometimes it's both of them, sometimes it’s neither. But Shauna is always the one who apologizes. She hates fighting with Jackie, she hates it, and Jackie is too stubborn to ever say, hey, Shauna, I’m sorry. Hell, Jackie never even thinks she’s wrong. 

This does not have to be a fight. She can fix this. 

“I’m sorry, Jackie, I’m sorry, Van wanted to-” 

“How are we supposed to get home? Do you ever think of the fucking consequences, Shauna?” Jackie turns away, holding her head with her hands. She can see how Jackie’s brain is working- all of the possibilities in her head. Shauna knows the signs of when Jackie is spiraling. 

(But god, can Jackie be mean.)

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” Shauna says quietly, reaching out to link her pinkie with Jackie’s. 

They’d been doing this since they were kids. Shauna had learned over the years that it had helped calm Jackie down, that little bit of contact. 

Fortunately, it works, because Jackie lets out an exasperated sigh and lets her other hand fall to her side. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. We can figure something out.” She offers a small smile to Shauna. There’s still a little bit of anger behind her eyes, but she’s seemed to calm down.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m sorry.” 

“Jesus, just stop apologizing,” Jackie bites out, letting go of Shauna’s pinkie. 

“Sor- okay. Okay.” Instinctively, Shauna’s hand twitches back towards Jackie, but she’s already stepped away. Her hand stings where Jackie had touched it, like a chunk of her skin had been ripped off when Jackie let go of her hand. 

The silence that fills up the hallway, interrupted only by the thrum of the music below, is painful. Normally, the quiet moments between her and Jackie were comfortable, safe. The most natural thing in the world. When you’ve been friends for so long, sometimes there are times where nothing more needs to be said, where Shauna just needs to be near Jackie to feel complete.

Now, though, the silence is weighed down by all the things that Shauna has left unsaid. The rage boiling up underneath her skin, the biting words that she tries her best to swallow down like bile, like there’s something sick inside of her. 

There’s one more thought, too, the vague idea of a feeling beating between her lungs, pounding underneath her sternum. Shauna hasn’t quite figured that one out yet. It just sits in her chest, one of the many things that will be left unspoken between her and Jackie.

“What was Van talking about, anyways?” Jackie asks. 

Oh, fuck . She should’ve known that Jackie wouldn’t just ignore Van’s lack of a filter. “Nothing. Nothing. She’s just drunk, you know how she is,” Shauna shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant. She really hopes Jackie doesn’t notice how her shoulders tense when she lies.

(Of course, Jackie knows all of Shauna’s tells. It’s impossible for her not to. They’ve known each other since they were 5 years old. She’s memorized every single one of Shauna’s expressions, all the little things she does whenever she talks- the way her hands twitch whenever she’s nervous, how she rubs the back of her neck when she’s pissed. So, yeah, Jackie knows that she’s lying, but she’s too fucking tired to try and figure out what it was about. It wasn’t like Shauna told her anything anyway.)

The silence is back already- it’s pervasive, filling up every space inside Shauna’s body- every organ, every intestine, even the air that’s inside of her lungs. She wonders if Jackie feels the same way- nothing ever seems to touch Jackie, not really. Maybe she’s just floating through, oblivious to the oppressive silence that flows through Shauna’s body. 

“Where’s Jeff? I thought you were gonna be with him,” Shauna asks awkwardly, shuffling her feet in an attempt to get rid of the pressure that’s pushing her down. 

“He’s hanging out with Arnold or something. We had a fight. It’s not that big of a deal,” Jackie shrugs, but Shauna can see the hurt in her eyes. She wonders what Jeff had done this time- Shauna is already mentally preparing her routine for tomorrow. Strawberry ice-cream, Beaches, and Gwen Stefani. 

“Oh, Jackie, I’m sorry,” Shauna says softly, reaching out to grab Jackie’s hand. Surprisingly, she lets her. Jackie stares at their hands, and then looks back up at Shauna. She offers a small smile and squeezes Jackie’s hand, reassurance that it’s okay, I’m here. I’m always here.

“It’s nothing. He’s an idiot. It’s whatever,” Jackie sniffs a little, but she’s trying to put on a brave face, and Shauna just wants to take her back home, to watch Beaches for the thousandth and get drunk on her moms shitty wine. 

“Still.” 

“Lottie, I swear to god, I’m gonna throw up on you-” Nat’s voice rises suddenly, and they hear something crash onto the ground. “Holy shit!” Van yelps from inside the room.

“I should probably check on that,” Jackie murmurs, letting go of Shauna’s hand. 

“Yeah.”

“Yep.” Jackie gives Shauna one more tired smile, and turns back towards the door.

“I love you,” Shauna calls after her, but Jackie has already stormed into the bathroom to start her tirade. The too bright lights of the bathroom are illuminating Jackie as she starts scolding Lottie and Nat over- well, who even knows what? 

Van slides past Jackie, looking very amused at whatever the hell happened while Jackie wasn’t present. God, the team really can’t be left alone anywhere without her. 

“She seemed pissed,” Van barks out a small laugh, that wolfish grin of hers already plastered back on her face, her razor sharp canines shining. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess.” Shauna glances over Van's head, watching as Lottie crosses her arms, for once using her whole height to tower over Nat. Jackie is currently trying to mediate, but for as well as Nat and Lottie get along most of the time, their fights are fucking explosive. Especially when Nat is mixed with alcohol. 

Van looks at Shauna, really looks at her, her eyes scanning all of Shauna's body. Something like understanding flashes through her eyes.

(Van is one of the most empathetic people on that team. She even tries to get along with that bitchy freshman. So she gets it when Shauna shrinks into herself, holding onto her own arms tight for reassurance.)

“More shots?” Van suggests, bumping Shauna’s shoulder. 

Shauna swallows thickly, trying to keep down the bile that’s slowly rising in her throat. Yeah. More shots sounds good.

After another round of ill advised shots, they find their way to Arnold's couch, laughing at nothing in particular. Everything just seems so incredibly funny at the moment. Shauna loves vodka. 

“Did you know that they used to put cocaine in coke?” Shauna looks over at Van, sitting up on her elbows, giggling at her own stupid fun fact. 

“Of course there’s cocaine in fucking coke, Shauna, coke is cocaine-”

“No, dude, like the soda. There was cocaine in Coca Cola.”

“You’re kidding,” Van looks back at Shauna, her eyes wide. Shauna shakes her head.

“I’m being so serious.”

“Why the fuck did they take it out ?” Van throws her hands up at the ceiling, smacking Shauna straight in the nose. 

“Ow! What the fuck, Van?” Shauna can’t even pretend to be angry, because the laughter is coming through her voice, and soon Van is shaking too, laughing so hard they forget what they were even laughing about in the first place. She feels like a kid again, giddy, completely removed from the consequences of her actions. 

That’s how Tai finds them, a tangled mess of laughter and limbs. She looks down at them, holding back a smile. She fixes her face into a scowl. “The fuck have you been? I was worried.” 

“Tai! Tai, you missed shots,” Van grins up at her, lifting her head a little off the ground. 

“Thank god for that, because who else is gonna drive your ass home?” Tai tries to sound pissed, but there’s a hint of laughter in her voice, and a glint in her eye that really only showed up when she was with Van. Shauna was a little jealous of them, if she was being honest. Their friendship just seemed so simple. She wished it was like that with Jackie. 

“You’re no fun.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tai mutters, trying to pull Van up to her feet. 

“Where’s Jackie?” Tai asks, directing this question to Shauna. “Thought you guys were attached at the hip.” 

Shauna just shrugs, sitting up on her hands. The question makes Shauna want to cry, want to fucking scream. Despite what people might think, she’s somebody outside of perfect fucking Jackie Taylor. Her head is really starting to hurt. 

“They’re fighting,” Van supplies helpfully, and Shauna throws a look that could kill her way. They’re not even fighting, not really. Either way, it’s none of Van’s business. Tai’s eyes flash with understanding, and she nods a little. Luckily for Shauna, though, Tai knows not to pry. Thank god for Tai and her occasional moments of emotional intelligence. The Yellowjackets could really use more of her.

“Alright, you crazy kids. Let’s get you some water.” 

After a few glasses of water that Tai basically forces her to drink, Shauna’s head is already starting to clear up. 

“We’re gonna head out,” Tai says, holding Van up by the waist. Van looks like she’s on the verge of passing out, with her head resting softly on Tai’s shoulder, and her eyelids heavy. There’s something so comfortable, so loving about them. Van is absently smiling into Tai’s shoulder. Van's smile is noticeably softer than the grin she gave Shauna earlier. Shauna feels like she’s intruding a little bit. They look so safe together, in their own little world, where Tai can be a little less uptight, more of herself, and Van can have somebody to lean on, where she doesn’t always have to be somebody other people rely on. 

It’s like being best friends is the easiest thing in the world for them.

“You got a ride home, Ship?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Don’t worry about me.” Shauna grimaces, holding her aching head. Now, Shauna remembers why she doesn’t like drinking. Her grip on the glass of water tightens, and she takes another quick sip. She felt like she was finally coming back down to earth. Alcohol is one hell of a drug. Or drink. Or whatever. God, her head hurts.

“Shaw, remember what we talked about. I love you, man,” Van stares directly into Shauna’s eyes, grasping her wrist with a sense of urgency. (In order to hold her wrist, Van takes her hand out of Tai’s back pocket, which Tai does not seem pleased about.)

Van will absolutely not remember any of this the next morning. 

She’s still nursing a cup of water and dealing with the beginnings of a migraine when Jeff finds her. 

Jeff and her have never talked without Jackie present. He has a sort of awkward energy whenever he talks to Shauna. She doesn’t even get why- she hasn’t done anything to Jeff, and Jeff hasn’t done anything to her. Shauna may hate his guts, but he has no reason to suspect that. They get along perfectly fine whenever Jackie is there. 

“Shauna, hey, have you seen Jackie?” 

Shauna nods, taking her hand off of her still aching head. Of course somebody else is already asking about Jackie, like it’s unusual to see Jackie Taylor’s lapdog off her leash. She knows that Jeff doesn’t mean anything by it, she knows she’s being unfair, and she knows that she’s drunk, so instead she just says, “Nat had a little too much to drink. Jackie’s babysitting her right now.”

She wonders why Jeff even wants to see Jackie right now. Normally he just sits on his ass, smug and self assured after being hyped up by his gaggle of asshole friends, and waits for her to come simpering back to him like a kicked puppy. Like he’s confident that Jackie couldn’t possibly go through life without his arm over her shoulder, trapping her in like a chain.

“Natalie Scatorccio? Yeah, that tracks,” Jeff shakes his head and smirks at Shauna, like he’s being funny. His smile is too big for his face- it stretches over the skin unnaturally, like he’s a Ken doll or something. He probably thinks it's cute. Of course it makes sense for Natalie, but what right does Jeff have to talk about her? She’s not his teammate. He doesn’t know about all the hours she puts in, he doesn’t know about the way she cares for her teammates. He doesn’t know her .

In lieu of a response, she just glares at him. Apparently that gets her point across.

He shuffles his feet uncomfortably now, the smile draining from his face as he purses his lips and looks over his shoulder, probably for a get out of jail card from this conversation. 

There isn’t a lack of excuses for him- it’s almost 1 in the morning now, but the party is still in full swing. She can tell that Jeff has been having fun- he’s full on hammered. Jackie hadn’t shut up for days before the party about how Arnold had gotten a keg, and where there’s a keg, there’s a Jeff. Jeff and Randy’s natural habitat was a keg. Normally, though, he doesn’t get this messed up (although, to be fair, normally Shauna doesn’t get this messed up).

Maybe the fight with Jackie had an effect on him, or maybe the fight with Jackie had been over how fucked up he was. Jeff could be a real asshole when he was drunk. 

If possible, the new song that just came on is somehow more fucking annoying than the last one. God really fucked Shauna over tonight- she’s stuck talking to Jeff Sadecki while the shittiest music imaginable plays, just to top it off. The sound of it is grating- it worms its way into her ears, shaking her brain. The same repetitive fucking pattern. 

“Do you and Jackie need a ride? ‘Cause if you’re drunk you probably shouldn’t drive,” he says nervously, all of it bursting out at once in that awkward manner of his. He looks hopefully at Shauna, like a lost 6 year old. 

God, when will this song fucking end? It just seems to get louder and louder, closer and closer, trapping her in this conversation. It’s claustrophobic. Everything is closing in, and she just wants to go home- and isn’t that what Jeff’s offering? But she would rather fucking die than get in a car with him right now- much less with both him and Jackie when they’re fighting. 

It’s then that over the sound of the music, over all the teenagers dancing and yelling and drinking, one sound rings out over everything else. 

“Everybody fucking out! There’s fucking cops!” 

Oh, shit. 

Of fucking course it wasn’t a song. How could Shauna be so stupid, so imperceptive? She and Jeff lock eyes, and an understanding passes through. They can’t just leave Jackie. Jeff may be an idiot, but even he knows not to leave his girlfriend to get caught by the cops 3 counties away from Wiskayok. 

Jackie, Jackie, Jackie, they have to fucking find Jackie.

They start off running, perfectly in sync, trying to get a head start before a stampede of drunk teenagers starts. 

“We have to go up to the street,” Shauna yells over the noise, trying not to lose Jeff in the crowd. 

“Are you fucking crazy? That’s where the cops are gonna be!” 

Shauna lets out a quick scream of frustration- just a short little burst, because how does she have to explain something so obvious to Jeff? Alcohol is a hell of a drug.

Her car is parked a block away from Arnold’s- that’s where Jackie’s going to be headed. That’s her only hope of avoiding getting caught, unless she wants to run into the woods in the middle of the night, which is the absolute worst case scenario. Jackie’s a shit driver- failed her test 3 times before finally passing, and even then her driving is akin to a five year old playing with Hot Wheels. 

But dealing with Jackie’s shit driving is the best option they have, since Shauna and Jeff are both too hammered to even remember how to start a damn car. 

“Just fucking trust me!” 

At some point or other, the music had stopped, but nobody would’ve noticed (or cared, really) with the chaos unfolding on the ground floor of Arnold’s house. People are running in every direction, towards every exit, every hiding place. Some kids are making a wild break through his back door, straight into the woods behind his house. 

Despite their best efforts, they still end up caught in the wave of teenagers running towards every exit. They’re one of very few kids, however, who elected to try the front door. They push past disoriented wanderers and runners alike. Somehow, she and Jeff manage to stay close enough to see each other the whole time. 

As soon as they get out of the house, the sirens get infinitely louder. There’s more than one car- there has to be, with how the sirens are blaring. The sound of it is sharp, a stab to her dulled senses. It’s hammering into her brain, and she has to resist the urge to lift her hands up over her ears. 

Jeff sees Jackie first. He shakes Shauna’s arm, pointing at Jackie with his mouth hanging open. She’s still with Lottie and Nat- Nat, however, seems substantially more lucid. She’s able to run, at least. 

The cars parked closest to the house are packing in as many kids as possible. Someone's shitty old ‘92 Corolla fit 8 people before the car peeled out of the driveway. Jackie’s much farther down the street than Shauna is already (she always was faster than Shauna, even on the field), she and Lottie and Nat looking desperately for a car to hitch a ride in. 

Hell, maybe they could test Nat’s theory that Lottie could totally drunk drive.

The thing is, though, that Jamie Hoffman had gotten a van for her 17th birthday that year. She was herding as many people into her car as possible, seemingly out of the goodness of her heart (or maybe a way to make a quick buck off the Holmdel kids), and Jackie and co. were approaching pretty rapidly. 

Fucking shit. If they get into that van, there goes any hope Shauna has of, y’know, not getting arrested . 

“Jackie!” Shauna yells out wildly, waving her arm out, but it’s too late. By the time Jackie finally hears her, Nat and Lottie are already safely secured in the van, and Jackie is scrambling in as the door slides shut. Shauna gets one last look at Jackie before the door closes and Jamie floors the gas, peeling away from the curb down the street. 

She just looked surprised, mostly, like she had forgotten Shauna existed, her eyes were wide and her mouth hanging half open.

Had she even thought about finding Shauna before running off in Jamie’s shitty van? The moment Shauna had heard the sirens, the only thing she could think was, Jackie, Jackie, Jackie, and apparently Jackie hadn’t even spared her a second thought. 

Shauna just stands there, in the middle of the fucking road, looking like an idiot. Maybe Jeff was right, and she was crazy. All she knows is that there’s no way in hell she can get home now. The sirens are even louder now, and the lights are flashing up against the houses that border the street by Arnolds. 

She thinks about just staying there for a second, letting herself get caught. Maybe Jackie would feel bad then, when Shauna has to wait for her mother to pick her up in the middle of the night in a whole other county, while Jackie just made off in Jamie’s fucking van. Maybe Jackie would finally get her head out of her own ass and think about someone other than herself, for once. 

“Shauna! Shauna, hey, we gotta go. We gotta fucking go!” Jeff grasps her wrist, pulling her out of the street, and towards the forest. 

Shauna runs like she’s never run in her fucking life. She runs until the cool February air burns her throat, until the air that's filling up her lungs stings and prickles. She runs well past the point where she no longer hears the sirens, leaving behind that stuffy Holmdel neighborhood. She runs until the balls of her feet ache, until she’s physically unable to run anymore. 

Jeff is behind her, of course. Like a leech, or a tick, attaching himself where he doesn’t belong. She can hear him panting and gasping for air behind her, his tongue hanging out of his mouth like a mutt. For how shitty he was at baseball, he could run. He was keeping up with Shauna okay, at least. 

At a certain point, and she truly doesn’t know when, the running stops, and Jeff is walking beside her now, in a surprisingly peaceful silence. The woods stretch in every direction. The only sounds are the crunching of dirt and sticks beneath their feet, of their heavy breathing, and of the occasional scuttering squirrel. She doesn’t know how long they’ve been out here, or what time it is. Her mom was cool– she remembered all too well what it was like to be a teenager– but god, was she going to be pissed whenever Shauna got home. 

The woods are surprisingly large. Shauna doesn’t know where she’s going, or where she would even go if she knew, or how long she’s even been walking for. Everything has just faded away, into the open blackness of the forest. It should be scary, out in the woods at night, with the trees casting deep shadows over her, the moon barely peeking through the pine needles that obscure the sky above, but it’s not. It’s nice, actually, to not know where she’s going, and not needing to know. And so she just walks, hardly noticing Jeff walking right besides her. 

She does notice, though, the way that he keeps stealing glances at her. Maybe he thinks she knows where she’s going. Maybe he just trusts her. 

“Jackie and I are done.”

It bursts out quickly, suddenly. He very pointedly isn’t looking at her- he’s staring straight ahead, into the trees that lead nowhere. 

“Oh,” she says, because what else is she supposed to say? I’m sorry? Because she isn’t. She isn’t sorry that Jackie dumped his loser ass. The only thing she’s sorry for is the way that she’ll crawl back to Jeff by next week. 

This isn’t like his normal reaction, though. He seems sure this time. His eyebrows are scrunched together, and his jaw is tight, slightly jutting forward with his apparent newfound resolve. He looks deep in thought, which is a new experience for him, probably. Normally after they have a fight, he finds some random girl to make out with while Jackie cries into Shauna’s shirt. Maybe that’s what he would’ve been doing, if the cops hadn’t come.

“She said she wasn’t sure she wanted to be with me anymore,” he added quietly, lowering his gaze down to his feet as he scuffs the dirt with his shoe. His face is obscured by the darkness, but his eyes are glassy. He’s really fucked up about this, she thinks quietly to herself, glancing over at him. 

Fuck. Doesn’t she know what it’s like to love Jackie Taylor? She’s known Jackie since kindergarten- she knows all the highs and the lows, all the pain and all the joy that comes along with loving her. She wonders how many times she’d curled up in her bed, with that same expression on her face because of something Jackie had said. Maybe Jeff isn’t as shitty a guy as she thought.  

(Deep down, in her brain, she knows why they fought. It’s the same thing every time. Jeff was a teenage boy, and he wasn’t any different than most. Maybe Shauna just didn’t want to think about that. Maybe she needed this to feel okay.) 

“Jesus, Jeff, I’m sorry,” she tells him, grabbing his arm to make him turn and face her. His expression has softened- his eyes look into hers searchingly. “You deserve better than that.” 

The gap between them is closing rapidly, and Jeff’s hands are hovering uncomfortably close to her waist. She should stop this. Why isn’t she stopping this? 

She catches the slight scent of Jackie’s strawberry perfume on him, and like some inexorable pull of gravity, her lips are crashing onto his, and his hands are around her waist.

It’s more painful than she expected, the feeling of Jeff moving inside of her. She thought maybe it would feel different, but really, it’s just awkward, with the weight of his body on top of hers, like she’s being smothered. 

She can almost imagine that the sounds of Jeff breathing heavily into her ear is actually Jackie’s stuttered gasping, that his chapped, dry lips moving along Shauna’s neck, is actually her warm, soft lips grazing Shauna’s collarbone. That Jackie’s body is pressed up against hers, moving alongside her. Jackie would’ve hated sex. She can still smell her perfume on his neck, and it almost overpowers the scent of sweat and cologne. She imagines Jackie’s hands on him, her mouth on his, her tongue inside his mouth. She can almost taste her vanilla lip gloss on him.

There’s this deep need inside of her, so she tells Jeff faster, harder, anything to put an end to the helpless feeling inside of her. She lets him inside of her, but nothing is enough, and she has a feeling nothing ever will be. She needs so much, and she doesn’t even know what for, and she knows this isn’t it, but she can’t stop it, not now. This is the closest she’s ever going to get.

Jackie always talks about how romantic she wants her first time to be, how it links you together for life. Like it’s some sort of poem. She would sure be in for a surprise, knowing how awkward it actually is. When Jackie and Jeff finally seal the deal, round home, whatever other euphemisms Jackie loves to use because the word sex scandalizes her, she won’t know that Shauna is linked to Jeff. In that way, Jackie will also be linked to her.

This moment is hers. It’s not Jackie’s. Jackie will never have this, she will never experience this. She’ll never realize how Shauna had done this first. 

Jeff comes quickly. Embarrassingly quick, actually. Now, at least, Shauna understands what all the talk is about. She can’t say she’s the biggest fan, but it’s more than that. So much more than that. She’ll apologize to Jackie for getting drunk, she’ll pretend to feel bad, and she will know that she has experienced this thing that Jackie could never have, not with Jeff. She will accept this victory, and Jackie will never even need to know.

If she submits her application for early admission to Brown the next day, well, Jackie doesn’t need to know that, either.