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Graduation.
College.
Leaving this piece of shit town.
They both believed that once they got away from their little suburban town, away from high school, away from both their shitty families, their lives would automatically get better.
For Jecka, she’s out of that house. Out of Virginia. No more dread looming over her the moment she’s past curfew. No more flinching the moment a glass cup topples over. No more worrying about what the hell he’s thinking the moment she wears something showing a little more skin. She’s graduated high school, finally far away from the shallow social circles she forced herself to be in to avoid being alone. The only friends that Jecka considers are real enough to her are Nicole, and maybe Emily. College is the next step now. All Jecka just needs to do is focus on securing a good future for herself.
And she can do it without her family’s financial help.
“Fuck you, I don’t need your money,” were Jecka’s last words to her dad before she rolled the window up and sped down the asphalt.
Was it dumb for Jecka to refuse her dad’s help? Probably. But it’s not like the asshole would’ve helped anyway. Not with him always blowing money on a new, and probably barely-legal, girl every week.
Whatever.
Her parents only saw her as nothing but an asset. Something to prop up their image of the wealthy, white, suburban family that happens to donate to charity from time to time. Nothing to see here! This family totally doesn’t have screaming matches every other week, or beat their daughter just because she got a B in AP History.
Jecka can leave, and finally be away from all that suffocated her.
Or…
She can stay with them, continue to live the safe, financially-secure life, all while continuing to fit in a box her dad chose for her.
But she doesn’t want that. She fucking hated it. She has no idea what she’ll be doing in college, or what career she’ll be going for. But at least she’s far away from the things that suffocated her.
For Nicole, she’s not living with her mom and brother anymore. That’s already a major upgrade. There’s also the bonus that she can live rent free with Jecka as she’s going to school in LA. Jecka was just meant to be a temporary person. A friendship of convenience for her to last through high school. After that, the contract would be over.
Or at least it was supposed to be over after graduation.
“Do you want to come with me to California?”
Nicole was surprised to hear of Jecka’s request to come with her. She thought she was high when she came up to her that day, asking if she would want to live with her in a brand new state, free of charge. But in a way, this is probably just an extension of that friendship-of-convenience contract. Jecka doesn’t want to be alone, and who else would be a better option to come with her, than her proclaimed best friend?
“Yeah, why not?” Nicole could only shrug.
Once Jecka graduates college, she won’t need Nicole around anymore. That’s what Nicole keeps telling herself. It’s why she’s never sober when they happen to have nights where they’re spilling their guts out about their respective traumas. She doesn’t even know how it gets to that point–where they’re actually being vulnerable about themselves to each other. Where they’re pouring out each other’s hearts or whatever other cliche statement there is to describe that experience.
During one of those nights, Jecka finds out the full story of Nicole’s dad. How he blamed her for his suicide. How she was the first to find him when she tried to seek refuge at his house.
“The fucker shot himself and had the nerve to blame me!” Jecka remembers Nicole slurring out aggressively.
Pieces would start to fall into place for Jecka. It fully made her understand why Nicole is the way she is.
“Honestly? He was probably right.”
Nicole was smirking that day, but Jecka’s bullshit-detector never fails.
“I’m just surprised he lasted that long with me,” Nicole grieves before drifting to sleep on Jecka’s shoulder.
It’s not healthy, but in Jecka’s mind, sometimes all she can think about is how she can save Nicole. Or at least try to make her not want to off herself again.
Oh yeah.
Jecka forgot to mention that she was the first to find her best friend trying to hang herself in her room on that one day. It doesn’t matter. Because it happens to slip out during one of their drunk nights.
“I keep replaying that day over and over,” Jecka confesses as tears prickle her eyes. “What if I showed up to your house a minute too late? What if right now I’m dreaming, and the real nightmare is when I wake up?” Her voice croaks that last sentence, latching onto Nicole like a lifeline.
But Nicole doesn’t know what to say to that. Or how to process all that. So, in typical Nicole-fashion, she replies with, “Dude, did you take an edible before you started drinking?”
Jecka expects that kind of response from her. She knows Nicole won’t bear her heart out like that overnight. At least, not when she’s sober.
Nicole barely remembers much of what happened, and the events that led up to, the day she actually wanted to join wherever her dad is. Most of that memory feels like a hazy dream locked within the confines of her fucked up brain. But now it’s out in the open.
Jecka was there when she tried to end it all.
At least one person cared. One person cared…
The years continue to pass, and the two get closer. This friendship is just for convenience, Nicole continues to remind herself. Once Jecka has her bearings from college, she’ll toss her out, and Nicole will be left to fend for herself in a state she barely knows much of.
Everything in between seems to paint a different picture of this friendship-of-convenience.
Sometimes, when Jecka comes back from a long day of classes, she’ll find Nicole in the bathroom, razor blade in hand, ready to make more lines that will break skin. Nicole expects to get a scolding from her. She’s heard it all before. The fake cries of sympathy from her mom. The pitied looks from her classmates whenever they see her scars. Jecka always knew they were there, but she never actually saw her doing the act itself in real time.
But instead of the bullshit platitudes, Jecka just sits with her, and lets her do her thing. Horizontal lines decorate her wrists, followed by crimson dripping down skin. Once Nicole finishes her work, Jecka gets the bandages and antiseptic to help clean up the cuts and wrap them.
“Wow, maybe going for med school will be pretty useful after all,” Nicole laughs.
Jecka just smiles as she continues to wrap the gauze around Nicole’s arm. It ends up becoming a routine at some point, either finding her in the bathroom bleeding all over the floor, or knocked out on the bed with pills strewn across the sheets. She tries to steer her away from all that. Outsiders think she should just leave Nicole behind.
Dump the deadweight and focus on yourself!
You don’t owe anyone anything!
But Jecka doesn’t want to listen to them. The fuck do they know about Nicole? She may be a sociopath, hell-bent on making everyone else’s lives miserable…as long as Jecka isn’t included. But Nicole is cool too. And hot. And keeps her company. She’s the only company worth keeping around that won’t give her pitied glances with each parental abuse joke.
Is it distasteful to casually drop how her dad would bash her face in with an aluminum bat? Most likely.
Oh well.
More years pass and Jecka has graduated college, graduated med school. The blonde bitch actually did it and became a doctor. Yet, Nicole is still around. Still living with Jecka. Still living rent free. She hasn’t stopped thinking about the inevitable day where they’ll have to part ways and end their contract.
“If I wanted to kick you out, I would’ve done it awhile ago,” Jecka once told her. This was only a few days ago, yet it replays like a broken record in Nicole’s brain. Reassurances come and go. Jecka says one thing, but her brain says another.
Jecka might’ve graduated college and now has a fancy doctor job, but wait until she finds a rich husband. Then that’ll be the day she slowly fades from Jecka’s life. That’s how it always is. That’s how it always was. Her mom already proved it to her time and time again.
Nicoleism. She tries to remind herself. Keep using Jecka as long as possible until the day comes.
Don’t share anything.
Don’t get attached.
Don’t let her seep into parts of your life.
But Nicole already knows it’s too late. It’s already long been too late when Jecka told her how she spilled her whole emo backstory like some tragic TV/video-game character.
So, while Jecka is out, Nicole thinks of one thing she can do to “fix” this problem. One cut, and it’s all over. She won’t have to be homeless. She won’t have to fuck random strangers to survive. She won’t have to secretly worry about the inevitable anymore.
And Jecka? Jecka can be free from the dead weight.
When Nicole wakes up, she’s in the hospital. Jecka is there, face down. Her smooth and perfect golden hair is now nothing but a rat’s nest. She’s upset, furious even, but most of all, glad that her friend is still alive. Nicole doesn’t know what to say. All she knows is that she fucked up in trying to off herself…again.
“You’re an actual dumbass, you know that?” Jecka tells her as she tries to hold more tears from streaming down her face.
Jecka cares, she always has. Nicole knows this. She always has. But no matter what, it won’t stop the looming dread in the back of her mind from eating her alive. Trauma is a bitch. And it turns out, leaving the place and people that caused it in the first place doesn’t mean it goes away. It doesn’t go away no matter how much Nicole forces it down her throat, or shoves it in the far depths of her mind.
Drugs don’t make trauma disappear, it just puts a blanket over it, ready to be pulled away the moment the Percs, Vicodin, whatever, stop doing their magic.
This is a contract. Their friendship is a contract. It’s all Nicole knows. She hates that it’s all she knows, but she’ll destroy it first before everything good about it gets pulled away.
Jecka won’t let her.
If Nicole sees their friendship as a convenience, then fine. Let her.
“Let’s get married,” Jecka brings up one day.
Nicole doesn’t oppose. Gay marriage had been legal in America for a few years by now. And thank goodness. Finding a man that won’t subject either of them to domestic violence would’ve been hell.
They go on a random Tuesday morning. The papers get signed, and they find the process surprisingly easy.
“So, will you change my contact name from ‘hawt bitch’ to 'hawt wife’ then?” Nicole teases.
“I expect you to do the same,” Jecka pointedly responds. “You’re with a 10/10 now, so you better fucking show it.”
They both laugh amidst the banter. Everything between them is still normal. There’s no ceremony, no formal announcement to their friends, and no rings. Just each other. It’s all they need.
If Nicole saw everything between them as a friendship-of-convenience, then why not turn it into a marriage-of-convenience? She knows it’s not healthy. She knows Nicole is fucked up to even be considered an option for marriage. But then again, isn’t Jecka the same? It’s why they’re together in the first place.
If turning an imaginary contract between them into an official one, enough to keep Nicole alive for as long as she can…
…then so be it.