Chapter Text
As we would lay and learn what each other’s bodies were for
And this is the room, one afternoon, I knew I could love you
And from above you, how I sank into your soul
Into that secret place where no one dares to go
- King of Carrot Flowers, Pt. 1, by Neutral Milk Hotel
Taissa doesn't care about gossip.
Honestly, she really doesn't care about stupid locker-room gossip. By senior year, everyone on their team has had enough outrageous rumors spread about them to make them all a bit numb to scandal. People still talk, and Taissa listens, sometimes, if she's bored, but she doesn't participate, she doesn't spread rumors, and she doesn't believe the ones she hears either.
Usually.
Today is just a little bit different. Today, she finds herself standing motionless, five feet from a small cluster of JV girls, partially hidden behind a locker, listening intently to the content of the hushed conversation they think they're having in private.
“Are you sure it was Van?” one of them says.
“It was definitely Van,” another one says.
Taissa stiffens, poised to intervene and defend Van's honor against whatever accusation is being made. Because her and Van are friends; maybe best friends. Well, Van is definitely her best friend. She's not totally sure if it's mutual. Van has plenty of friends; sometimes, when they walk together, it takes ten minutes to get through one hallway because so many people stop Van to say hi. Taissa doesn’t exactly have that kind of wide appeal. She knows she's respected around school, feared, even, but people don't really talk to her. Van is different.
Taissa's pretty sure the majority of the varsity team would be prepared to go to war if they knew the JV girls were shit talking Van, of all people. Anyone else would probably be fair game, but everyone just seems to like Van in a fond, uncomplicated way. Probably because Van doesn't share Taissa's instinctual, standoffish distrust of people she doesn't know. Instead, Van makes friends with a truly remarkable ease; she's friendly to everyone, she can make conversation about pretty much anything, and she never fails to make even the most serious people laugh within a day of meeting them. She’s just, like… good at everything. It’s absurd.
That’s how Van won Taissa over when they first met. Taissa, who has a bad habit of viewing everybody she meets as competition, and who within weeks of beginning middle school year had already gained a reputation as being a bitch of the highest order. And Van, who was half-ridiculous and half-terrifying at tryouts, making deadly field goals and blocking the net with nearly perfect accuracy, running past Taissa with a grin and a mock-salute as she scored goal after fucking goal. Van, who insisted on warming up with Taissa before their first practice, a goofy smile on her face, stretching one arm across her chest and squinting at Taissa as she said: You know, you're really not as scary as you look.
Taissa realizes she’s lost track of the JV girls’ conversation, and strains her ears again to listen.
“—no way that’s true,” one of them says.
“Apparently,” the smallest of the girls says, her voice so soft, Taissa can barely pick it up, “she got drunk and kissed Gen's sister in front of like... five people at a party.”
Taissa's eyebrows shoot up, and she clenches her jaw to stop herself from speaking as she listens.
“That's so weird,” the girl says to her friend. “Like... an actual lesbian at our school?”
“Please, we’ve all known Van was a lesbian since like… seventh grade.”
“I didn't know," the JV girl says.
Taissa—blinking rapidly, trying to mentally rearrange her perception of her best friend in her mind—silently agrees with the second speaker. She decidedly did not know. She presses her back against the lockers, out of view listening for a minute more.
“Do you think her friends know?” one of the girls asks.
“They must,” another replies.
Taissa shakes off her stupor, clearing her throat loudly and walking around the side of the lockers into view of all the girls.
They immediately scatter, looking at her wide eyed.
Taissa crosses her arms, enjoying the few seconds of silent apprehension. Wouldn’t be the worst idea to scare them a little bit, would it?
She raises an eyebrow.
“I know you girls aren’t stupid enough to be spreading rumors about the varsity goalie a month before nationals,” she says, looking at each one of them, letting her eyes linger meaningfully. “Right?”
“We weren’t—” one begins, but stops when she sees the look on Tai’s face.
“If I hear a single one of you breathe a word of gossip about Van, or any varsity girl for that matter, I will personally make sure you never get off the bench between now and the time you all graduate and move onto miserable state colleges with mediocre regional teams. Is that clear?”
They all nod.
Taissa smiles tightly.
“Great,” she says.
“So how was that party on Friday?” Taissa asks, after practice the next day.
Van is standing next to her in the mirror, undoing her french braid as Taissa reapplies her eyeliner, which is honestly just a strategy to buy time while Van gets ready to leave—Taissa’s eyeliner is always perfect the first time.
“Fine,” Van says, eyes flicking to Taissa’s in the mirror, then back to her own reflection. “Why? You hear something about it?”
“No,” Taissa says, as quickly as she can, watching Van comb out the last of the braid and part her hair down the middle with her fingers. “No, I just… thought it sounded fun.”
“I invited you,” Van says, narrowing her eyes in amused disapproval. “You could’ve come.”
“I know,” Taissa says. “But pre-calc is a bitch. I needed the extra night of studying.”
“You could spend the entire year cutting all your classes, slacking off all the time, and you’d still pass all your finals,” Van says, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t be top of the class,” Taissa says, with a smile, meeting Van’s eyes in the mirror. "Life is a competition, Palmer, and I plan to win it."
Van scoffs in understanding, tucking her hair behind her ears and turning away from the mirror to her gym bag to change. Taissa turns back to look at her own reflection, feeling weirdly scorned by Van immediately breaking eye contact. She turns her eyes to watch Van in the mirror.
Van is pulling her goalie shirt over her head unceremoniously, dropping it (unfolded) into her bag and picking up the shirt she wore to school—an orange striped henley that Taissa always thinks makes her look kind of glowy. Tangerine really is her color.
With Van’s back turned, Taissa can see the criss-cross straps of her white sports bra in the mirror, and the spattering of orange freckles on her shoulders. There were more of them when she was younger; when Taissa first met her, they used to cover her face like paint splatters. Now you can only really see the ones on her face if you get close enough.
Whatever girl she kissed at the party probably saw them pretty clearly.
Taissa shakes her head, trying not to think about that.
Maybe it was all rumors. Just stupid, made-up gossip to pass the time. Or maybe they had Van confused with somebody else.
Not that Taissa even cares if Van is gay. She doesn’t. It wouldn’t change anything if she was. They would still be friends, obviously. Taissa doesn’t even think she would feel this weird about it if Van had told her herself, it’s just, if it is true, would Van really lie to her about it?
Has Taissa not made it clear how willing she is to accept Van no matter what? Or just gay people in general? Taissa’s parents are democrats, which Van knows. Hell, Taissa even has an uncle who brings his roommate to Thanksgiving every year, and he’s practically her favorite relative. Why would Van think Taissa couldn’t be trusted with this information?
“Tai,” Van says.
Taissa blinks, snapping out of her thoughts.
Van is changed now, gym bag packed. Taissa is still in her uniform, eyeliner pencil suspended in air a few inches from her eye.
“You good?” Van asks.
“Fine,” Taissa says quickly, lowering and capping the pencil and turning quickly around to strip her uniform off and fumble in her locker for the jeans she wore to school.
As she grabs them, she chances a glance over her shoulder at Van, and finds Van turned away from her, eyes fixed intently on the ceiling.
Why is that weirdly disappointing?
If actually is a lesbian, wouldn’t she want to watch Taissa change? Half the baseball team has asked Tai out by now. Not that she said yes to any of them. She’s way too busy for dating. And way too smart to date an idiot teenage boy anyway.
But still. If Van likes girls, why doesn’t she at least glance over?
Unless she isn’t attracted to Taissa. Tai supposes that’s possible. And actually, that’s probably for the better. Tai wouldn’t want to put herself in the uncomfortable position of having to reject a friend.
She pulls her shirt on quickly and clears her throat.
“Ready to go?” she asks.
Van turns back around. “Yeah,” she says, with a quick nod.
Tai picks her bag up.
They always walk to Van’s house first, then Taissa’s. Usually they talk more than they are today, though Taissa supposes that’s her fault. She’s been distracted. She meant to start a conversation, to be normal, but now, she’s running out of time to say anything; Van’s house is coming into focus in the distance.
“Hey,” Taissa says, looking over at Van, who’s been kicking the same pebble five feet ahead of her at a time for the past half mile. “Van, you know you can tell me anything, right?”
Van’s eyes narrow.
“Uh, yeah,” she says. “Thanks, Tai.”
“No, but, seriously, I mean it,” Taissa says eagerly, looking at Van expectantly. “I would never, like, judge you, or be weird or anything.”
Van nods. “Great,” she says, still nodding, “thanks.”
Is she walking faster? Taissa could swear Van just picked up her pace.
When they’re a few feet from Van’s house, she gives Taissa a big, fake looking smile.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says.
“Uh, okay,” Taissa says, brow furrowing worriedly, watching Van disappear down her driveway, taking the key she always wears around her neck and unlocking the door.
She usually at least lets Taissa walk her to the door.
Did Tai weird her out? Or did she just not want Tai finding out what happened at the party?
She's definitely acting off.
Taissa scowls, walking home, trying not to dwell on it, and dwelling on it anyway.
The next day in school, Van’s usual seat next to Taissa in health class is empty.
Taissa tells herself it's nothing. Van is probably just sick. That would account for why she was acting weird yesterday, she probably just wanted to get home and lay down.
Still, it fucking sucks not having her in class.
Taissa finds herself staring at the empty desk, imagining phantom bursts of laughter, quick fingers drumming against the desk, flashes of bright, secretive smiles whenever Misty asks a particularly creepy question.
Class is just so quiet without Van.
Life is quiet without Van.
Taissa couldn’t really sleep last night. She kept thinking about Van having this whole entire life that Taissa wasn’t part of at all; one where she goes to parties and kisses girls and probably does a whole load of other shit that Taissa can’t even imagine.
The idea that Van could have this monumental fucking secret and just not tell Taissa about it honestly feels like a doorstop being wedged right into the center of her skull. World cleaved apart. All she was once certain of suddenly shifted dramatically off its axis.
There shouldn’t be other people out there who just know Van better than Taissa does. Like, seriously? Gen’s sister? The sibling of a JV benchwarmer gets to see this entire other side of Van that Taissa never has.
The more she thinks about it, the more annoyed she gets.
It distracts her during her pre-calc exam, and she finds herself rereading problems three or four times, forgetting her usual timed strategy for making sure she finishes exams and instead scrawling messy calculations onto her scrap paper, solving equations quick and dirty without checking her work.
By the time the final bell rings, Taissa walks out of the classroom in a huff, shoulder-checking a freshman who gets in her way and carving a straight line through the hallway to the girl’s locker room.
Laura Lee asks her how she is, which she ignores, sitting down on the center bench and unlacing one shoe.
“What’s her problem?” Jackie asks, as if Taissa can’t hear her. Taissa turns to glare, but then Van rounds a corner of the locker room.
“What’s whose problem?” Van asks, eyes narrowed playfully, but then she spots Taissa and the smile on her face fades.
“Van,” Tai says, getting to her feet, only one shoe on, crossing her arms. “You weren’t in class.”
“Yeah,” Van agrees, eyes shifting away from Taissa. Her hair is down loose around her shoulders; she hardly ever wears it like that. “Just didn’t really feel like watching Coach Ben pretend he’s qualified to teach reproductive health, honestly.”
Akilah scoffs from where she’s changing a few lockers down from them. Van forces a tiny smile, but it’s far from her usual grin.
“But that’s our only class together,” Taissa blurts out.
Van narrows her eyes.
“You-you could’ve asked me to skip with you,” Taissa continues.
“You?” Van says. “Tai, you study on weekends, you never skip.”
“It’s health class,” Taissa says.
Van nods slowly. “Yeah, maybe next time,” she says, unconvincingly.
Taissa scowls, turning her back, sitting down and pulling her other shoe off.
After practice, Van doesn’t hang back and wait for Tai like usual. Instead, she runs into the locker room, disappearing off into the showers before Taissa can even ask her what’s wrong.
She never showers in the locker room. Nobody does. The showers are ancient and weird; besides, they’ll both work up a sweat walking home anyway, there's no point.
Taissa’s frustration flares up yet again and she strips off her uniform, pulling her school clothes back on in record time and firmly planting herself outside the showers, arms crossed, waiting.
Practically the entire team is changed and on their way home by the time Van emerges, changed out of her uniform, dry hair braided neatly behind her head.
She actually flinches when she sees Taissa.
“Jesus, Tai,” she says, pressing a hand over her chest like an old lady. “Are you staking me out?”
“You’re avoiding me,” Taissa says.
“I’m not avoiding you,” Van says, opening then closing her mouth again, saying nothing. Finally she just shakes her head. “I have a lot going on right now, that’s all.”
“Okay, so tell me about it,” Taissa says. “We’re friends, friends tell each other things.”
“Look, Tai, I really don’t want to talk about it,” Van says, walking past Taissa to the now empty row of lockers where her backpack is stashed. “Can we just walk home?”
“Obviously something’s bothering you,” Taissa says quietly. “Maybe I can help.”
“You can’t,” Van says decisively.
“But why did you change in the showers?” Taissa asks. “Why did you cut class?”
“Tai!” Van snaps, turning toward Tai, hands balling into fists, “can you please just—”
“Van, I know you’re gay!” Taissa says before she can think the better of it.
Van freezes. Her eyes go wide. To Taissa's horror, quick tears well up in Van's eyes.
“Taissa, fuck, listen,” Van says after a shocked second, “fuck, okay, I know people are talking about me but it’s not— it really isn’t what it sounds like, just, I can explain, honestly.”
With the movement of her face, the tears roll down both her cheeks. Her cheeks are flushing a deep red. Her hands are trembling.
“Van, it’s okay,” Taissa says, as reassuringly as she can.
“No, I didn’t mean for you to find out,” Van breathes, bringing her hands to the sides of her face, roughly wiping her tears and pushing her fingers up through her hair anxiously.
“I know, and obviously it would’ve been better if you could’ve told me yourself, but Van, it doesn’t change anything,” Taissa says.
“Of course it does,” Van says.
“It doesn’t have to,” Taissa says. “That’s why I told you that I knew, so you’d know I already knew and that I don’t care. Now you don’t have to worry about telling me.”
Van presses her lips together, chin crinkling up.
“You don’t have to say that,” she says after a few seconds, voice sounding impossibly small.
“I know I don’t,” Taissa says, honestly offended at even the vaguest notion that she would be lying about this. “I mean it, Van. You don’t have to worry about me. We’re always going to be friends. No matter what.”
Van scrutinizes Taissa’s face, eyes still glassy.
“Really?” Van says eventually.
“Yes,” Taissa replies, and staring at Van, she can’t stop herself from crossing the distance between them and pulling Van into a fierce hug.
Van stiffens at first as Taissa embraces her, but when Taissa doesn’t let go, she relaxes, dropping her chin onto Taissa’s shoulder, hugging her back.
Taissa presses her face into Van’s hair, holding her as tightly as possible.
When’s the last time they hugged like this?
Sure, they’ve embraced after games, sweaty and manic with excitement. But when’s the last time they actually hugged each other just because?
Taissa wouldn’t let anybody else hold her like this. Not her teammates, not her classmates, not even really her parents. It always feels way too sickly sweet. Too intimate.
But Van is different. Van is her best friend. Her only real friend. How could she possibly think Taissa would give that up over something as insignificant as Van liking girls?
Come to think of it, this is really the only thing that ever would’ve made sense. Taissa can’t imagine Van with a boy. It’s one of the things she’s always loved about Van—when they’re together, Taissa never has to field the usual stupid locker-room questions about who likes who, who’s single on the baseball team, which boys are the least insufferable. Van has never once asked Taissa who she had a crush on, which is convenient, because Taissa doesn’t really have the faintest idea how to answer that question.
If Van had ever gone and betrayed her by getting a boyfriend? Taissa’s pretty sure she would’ve lost it.
Van pulls away from Taissa’s embrace, even though Tai didn’t mean to let her go, sniffling and brushing her hair back from her face. Taissa steps back too.
“Well. Thanks for, uh, not… being weird about this,” Van says. “Stupid fucking JV team.”
“If they’re still talking shit, I’ll fucking kill them,” Taissa says. “And they know that.”
Van raises an eyebrow. “Thanks,” she says. “But I think the damage’s been done. Coach Scott gave me this… weird, vague, cryptic fucking talk today about how brave I am. That’s why I wasn’t in health. He said I could hang out in his office while he taught if I needed some… space, or whatever. I wasn’t trying to blow you off. I guess he heard people talking about me.”
Taissa’s face flushes with irritation. “They shouldn’t talk shit,” she says, “practically everyone on this team has done something to actually embarrass themselves in the past twelve months. And you never gave any of them a hard time about it. They’re all such fucking hypocrites.”
“Yeah, well,” Van says, scuffing one sneaker against the locker room floor. “This is… different. I guess.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” Taissa says quietly.
“I should get home,” Van says, with a dismissive shake of her head.
“Let me walk you,” Taissa says eagerly. “We haven’t had a movie night in forever. I’ll watch whatever you want, even that boring Russian one, with the double VHS.”
“Okay, Anna Karenina is a masterpiece,” Van says, eyes lighting up for the first time in days as she looks at Taissa with fierce disagreement. “It is far from boring.”
“Okay, perfect,” Taissa says, trying not to smile too big at the change in her friend's demeanor.
“Don’t you have to study?” Van asks, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “Like you do every night?”
“Fuck it,” Tai says.
“Fuck it?” Van repeats. “Jeez, Tai, you must feel really fucking sorry for me if you’re giving the SAT prep a night off.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you,” Tai says, rolling her eyes as Van picks up her gym bag and the two of them start walking toward the locker room exit. “Actually, I think it’s pretty cool you don’t have to worry about boys.”
Van says nothing. Taissa’s stomach sinks uneasily at the thought of having said the wrong thing.
As they walk out of the locker room onto the sidewalk that leads to Van’s house, Taissa turns to look at Van as subtly as she can, trying to gauge whether she’s annoyed. Her expression is unreadable, but the sun is setting, and Van’s side profile looks particularly golden in the orange light. It’s distracting. New Jersey is ugly, but a sunset is a sunset, and Taissa has always thought Van looked coolest with her hair like it is now; wavy and a little dirty, pushed back from her face, spilling over her shoulders.
“So, uh,” Taissa begins, “Gen’s sister.”
“Oh God,” Van says, squeezing her eyes shut for a second. “Don’t start.”
“I just… wondered if you guys were… like, a thing now, or…” Taissa says, trailing off.
There’s an odd apprehension to the question. They can’t be, right? Taissa would know if Van had a crush. She’d just be able to tell. At least, she thinks she would. But then again, there’s apparently a lot she doesn’t know about Van.
“Definitely not a thing,” Van says. “Just… got too drunk, lost all impulse control, made a complete fool of myself.”
“Ah,” Taissa says, nodding. “Was that your… first kiss then?”
“No,” Van says.
Taissa blinks. “Oh,” she says. “I didn’t realize there were other… uh…”
“There aren’t,” Van says. “Just stupid straight girls who think it’s cool to experiment as long as no one finds out.”
“Huh,” Taissa says. “Does that… happen a lot?”
“Not really,” Van says. “I just go to too many parties.”
Taissa nods quickly. Van laughs quietly. Tai looks over at her in surprise.
“What’s so funny?” Tai asks.
“No, just, you’re doing that Tai thing where you try to… absorb as much information possible about something as quickly as you can.”
“That Tai thing,” Taissa repeats, with a small smile. “Yeah, okay, I guess I am. I like to be informed. Sue me.”
“Am I a subject now?” Van asks, with a tiny smirk. “Are you studying me?”
“Just getting to know a friend,” Taissa says. There’s a strange flutter in her stomach at Van’s words. Not the same anxiety from before. Something slightly different.
“I just wish you cared this much about old movies,” Van says.
“I do care about old movies!” Tai says. “Just… I mean, some of them are a little bit… dense, but—”
“It’s fine,” Van interrupts, with a wry smile. She breathes another quiet laugh. “Fuck, Tai, I really thought you were gonna stop talking to me.”
Taissa’s mood immediately plummets.
“How could you think that?” she asks.
“Because most people are fucking awful?” Van says. “I guess I should’ve known though. You’re, like, a million times better than most people.”
Taissa flushes. She looks down, biting the corner of her lip.
“Yeah, I know I am,” she says.
Van laughs, bumping her shoulder into Taissa’s.
When they get to Van’s house, Van unlocks the door and pushes it open, listening carefully for a minute before beckoning Taissa in after her.
“She’s already asleep,” Van says, inclining her head toward the living room where her mom is passed out on the couch. “Just, try not to walk too loud.”
She leads Taissa through the kitchen, to the back of the house where her bedroom is tucked in next to the back door.
Only when Van closes her bedroom door behind them does Taissa relax, exhaling and looking around.
It’s been a while since Tai’s been over here, but she’s witnessed enough fights between Van and her mom to know better than to be careless with her footsteps.
Van kneels on the floor next to her bed, pulling out the shoebox of the few VHS tapes she owns—ones she apparently needs to have on call at all times. Her room is a mess; clothes strewn everywhere, posters scotch-taped onto all the walls, school books collecting dust in the corners. Tai loves it here. It’s so far from her own room; painstakingly neat, because that’s the only way she can concentrate in it, yet entirely devoid of her personality. The Turner household is full of bare walls and spotless floors. Van’s room, on the other hand, makes Taissa’s overactive brain grind to a halt. It’s the only place she doesn’t mind wasting time.
“Greta Garbo will break your heart,” Van says, holding up the tape.
“Excellent,” Taissa says, flopping down on one side of Van’s bed.
Van slides the tape into her player, fiddling with her tiny TV.
Taissa will never forget the day Van found that thing out for the garbage at someone’s house on their walk home from school; they lugged it to Van’s house together and Van nearly cried when it actually turned on.
“I hope you’re ready to admit I was right about this movie,” Van says.
“Never,” Tai says, smirking, though Van can’t see her doing it—she’s facing the television. As the opening credits of the movie come on, Van sinks down to sit on the floor, back leaned against her bed.
Taissa frowns.
Van never sits on the floor.
“Van,” Tai says.
Van turns her head innocently.
“Why are you down there?” Taissa asks.
Van’s face flushes immediately. She’s so pale, her reddening cheeks are a dead giveaway.
“Uh, I… don’t know, I just thought…” Van says, blinking rapidly, “I didn’t want to be weird.”
“Why would it be weird?” Tai says.
Van’s nostrils flare in frustration.
“I don’t know, because… like, I didn’t want you to think I was…” she shakes her head. “I’m not.”
“Not what?”
“Tai, come on,” Van says.
Taissa shakes her head in silent question.
Van sighs heavily.
“I know how much it grosses you out when guys have crushes on you,” Van says quietly. “And I don’t want you to think that… you know, that I’m being… weird like that. I’m not.”
Van’s face is a fierce shade of red now.
“Oh,” Taissa says.
“Fuck,” Van breathes, squeezing her eyes shut and dropping her chin to her chest.
“Hey, no, no,” Taissa says, sliding off the bed, quickly kneeling next to Van on the ground. “Van, come on.”
Van squints one eye open, looking doubtfully at Taissa.
“It grosses me out because they’re stupid, unhygienic men. It would be totally different if it was you.”
“Tai,” Van says, exhaling audibly.
“No, listen, I don’t think you’re weird. I’m never going to think you’re weird,” Tai says, reaching out and grabbing Van’s hand. Again, Van stiffens. “Come on. Please?” Tai says.
Van’s brows furrow in concern, a little stitch appearing between them. Her eyes are so fucking wide and worried, it makes Taissa’s stomach turn.
She just wants to take everything wrong with Van’s life and rearrange it until it’s perfect. Tai has never met a logic problem she couldn’t solve. Surely, there must be some way to work this all out.
“We’re, uh, we’re missing the, the beginning, Tai,” Van stammers, eyes flicking over to the screen.
“So come up and sit with me,” Taissa squeezes her hand. Van looks down at their interlocked hands, brow still crinkled up.
“Fine, yeah,” Van says quietly. “Just, pay attention to the movie.”
Tai smiles, pulling Van to her feet and climbing back onto the bed. She drops onto her stomach, reluctantly letting Van pull her hand away, propping herself up on her elbows, and facing the television.
Van sits next to her, knees pulled into her chest, eyes fixed on the screen.
“That is the ugliest man I have ever seen in my life,” Taissa says, as the black and white movie shows a man in an army uniform.
Van scoffs. “I know,” she says. “And Anna’s about to destroy her entire life for a shot at him.”
“Idiot,” Taissa says.
“I don’t know,” Van says, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Maybe she’s just really in love.”
“Since when are you a romantic, Palmer?” Taissa asks, with a soft scoff.
“Since… forever?” Van says, looking down at Taissa with a tiny smile. “I spend half my time watching fictional love stories, and the other half of my time thinking about them. You really think I’m not a romantic?”
Something unfamiliarly strong twists in Taissa’s stomach.
“Right,” she says, breaking eye contact, looking back at the movie. She waits for Van to make some quip or comment, but she doesn’t. When she can’t stand the silence, Taissa says: “I don’t know anything about romance.”
Van shifts on the mattress next to Taissa, crossing her legs, looking down at her again.
“Yeah, I’m… not really sure I do either, honestly,” Van says. “You’re a quick study though, I’m sure you’ll pick it up somewhere.”
Taissa hums quietly in response. For a while, neither of them says anything. Van watches the movie. Tai steals more and more glances at Van as the minutes go by.
And once, when she looks up at Van, she finds Van looking back at her. Just a split second, then Van looks away, but still, Tai’s chest flares with a bright pulse of… something. That same sharp, foreign something.
“You’re bored,” Van says.
“No, no,” Tai says, shaking her head hard, staring back at the screen. “I’m invested.”
“You’re not watching,” Van says.
“I am,” Tai says, “I really am, just, are you sure you’re comfortable sitting like that?”
“I’m fine,” Van says.
Tai bites her lip, considering.
“Just, usually you lay down,” she says. “When we watch.”
What she doesn’t add is that the thought of her and Van’s friendship having this weird, stilted tint to it for the foreseeable future is fucking unbearable.
When they were younger, they used to curl up together under blankets and watch rented movies on Taissa’s parents’ big downstairs TV, sharing one couch cushion, pressed so close together they could hear each other breathing.
Sometimes, Taissa used to drop her head onto Van’s shoulder and pretend to snore during particularly boring movies, just to piss Van off. Van would always shake her awake with wide, indignant eyes and a bright smile. This is the best part.
“Yeah, when we were kids,” Van says, with a forced scoff.
Tai looks up at her, still chewing the corner of her lip anxiously, unsure of what else to try.
All of Van’s false casualness drains from her face, like it’s too much effort to keep it up.
“If it’ll get you to pay attention to the movie, then I guess,” Van says, voice weirdly stiff, shifting to lay on her stomach next to Taissa.
Tai smiles, looking back at the man and woman on the TV.
“So that’s Anna?” she asks.
“Yeah,” Van says, turning her head halfway to look at Taissa, “and the guy is Count Vronsky, he’s obsessed with Anna, but they can never really be together.”
“Why not?” Tai asks.
“Cause she’s married?” Van says. “And she’ll pretty much lose everything if she leaves her husband for him. Society, y'know?”
“Wait, are you showing me a sad movie?” Tai says.
Van smiles; big, genuine smile, like she’d have when they were younger. It makes Tai’s chest feel like it’s swelling.
“Maybe,” Van says.
“God, always the tragedies with you!” Tai says, rolling her eyes. “Can’t it ever be a nice love story where they just settle down at the end and get to be happy?”
“I like the sad ones, they’re realer,” Van says. “And you promised you’d pay attention.”
Taissa looks back at the screen, rolling her eyes fondly.
Anna and Vronsky are in a garden now, arguing about something. As Taissa watches, he grabs her by the shoulders and kisses her.
It’s a kind of face-smashing, fiery passion kiss that Taissa can’t imagine ever happening in real life. Anna melts into his arms, totally giving up on whatever point she was arguing a minute ago.
“It can’t possibly be that good,” Tai murmurs, with a slow shake of her head.
“Pessimist,” Van says.
Taissa turns her eyes to Van, who’s watching the on-screen kiss intently, almost as if she’s intentionally not looking at Tai.
Is she thinking about somebody else?
“Van?” Taissa says.
“Mm?” Van says, not turning her head.
Her refusal to even look at Tai makes prickling annoyance rise up on her skin like goosebumps. She just wants Van to focus on her.
“What does it... feel like?” Taissa blurts out. “Kissing, like that, I mean.”
After a second of silence, Van turns to look at Tai again, slowly repeating: “What does it feel like?”
“Yeah,” Tai says, looking down, weirdly embarrassed at the feeling of Van staring at her like that.
“I… guess… it’s kinda hard to explain,” Van says, raising an eyebrow when Taissa meets her eyes again.
“Right, sorry,” Taissa says. “I shouldn’t have—“
“It feels… good though,” Van says thoughtfully, eyes fixing on Taissa with a slightly distant kind of concentration—slight uncertainty, but more fascination.
Taissa feels like she’s burning.
Her eyes flicker to Van’s lips, to her hands, to the roots of her hair. Van must notice her looking, but she says nothing.
She’s patient like that. Taissa knows this about Van. She can withstand a silence if it means getting to the truth of something. Taissa could never. She’s all questions. All analysis. In a lot of ways, Van is a better student than she is.
Taissa would probably ask a follow up question right now if Van’s words weren’t echoing so all-consumingly in her head at the present moment.
It feels good. The very idea of that is infuriating. The idea of someone kissing Van, or, no—of Van kissing someone in a way that puts that faraway, thoughtful look on her face…
Shit. Taissa can’t stop herself from imagining it. Imagining Van’s hands, long-fingered and surprisingly delicate, cupping the side of some pretty girl’s face, pulling her back in for another kiss, chasing her lips, smiling as they pull apart.
Van inhales to speak, breaking Tai out of her thoughts.
“Have you… ever kissed anyone, Tai?” she asks, in a carefully measured tone.
Taissa feels her cheeks flushing hotter, if that’s possible.
If anybody else was asking, she would probably lie, but honestly she doesn’t think she could fool Van, even if she wanted to.
She hesitates for only a second before shaking her head no.
Van breathes out a surprised laugh. That slight stitch between her brows is back, she looks a little bit overwhelmed.
“Really?” Van says. “I always thought you were… miles ahead of me.”
Taissa forces herself to shrug. “Guess not,” she says.
“It’s not, uh, scary. Or weird,” Van says. “Not if you find someone you like.”
Taissa stares at her hopelessly, eyes drawn, as if by a magnet to Van’s unsmiling lips.
“I like you,” Tai says.
Van’s lips part—startled inhale.
“Not like like that,” Van says quickly, “I meant—”
“Could you show me?” Taissa asks.
Van blinks, mouth opening and closing again, seeming to find no words.
“Tai, Jesus,” she says, after a few seconds of silence, exhaling a forced laugh.
“I’m serious,” Tai says, quieter. “I trust you. A lot. And… I think it’s really cool that you… you know, like girls, like that. You’d be doing me a favor. Honestly. I could just get it over with.”
“Tai, are you fucking with me?” Van asks, sitting up and looking down at Taissa. Her face is going red again.
“No,” Tai says, sitting up to face her.
Van looks at her for a long second.
“You know how many guys in school would kill for—” Van begins.
“I don’t care about the stupid boys,” Taissa says.
Van goes quiet, gaze flickering from Taissa’s eyes to her lips then back a few times.
“I, uh…” Van says, with a slow shake of her head. “Fuck. I guess… if you really want.”
“I do,” Tai says, before Van is even done speaking.
A disbelieving smile tugs at the corners of Van’s mouth, though her brow is still furrowed adorably. And for a second, Taissa is sure Van is about to crack and start laughing, so the two of them can write this whole thing off as one big joke with a weird punchline, and Taissa can pretend her heart isn’t racing at the vaguest idea of Van kissing her.
But Van doesn’t.
Instead, she shifts closer to Taissa on the mattress, one hand coming to cup the side of Taissa’s face (exactly like Taissa fucking imagined) and leaning in slowly as if she’s waiting for Taissa to call her bluff.
Taissa does her very best to look back at Van with her usual confidence, though she can feel it wavering, face buzzing with blood rush, anticipation burning hot in the pit of her stomach.
“Hurry up,” Taissa says.
Van laughs again, too loudly for the quiet of the moment, effectively snapping the odd tension that seemed to form between them. Taissa smiles too, and Van watches her, her expression shifting to something like fond wistfulness in the instant before she leans forward and kisses Taissa.
Tai freezes at the contact, brain short-circuiting. Dimly, absorbs the feeling of Van’s chapped lips—a few degrees cooler than Taissa’s own skin, unhurried and light—against hers.
Taissa’s hand, moving mostly on its own with minimal direction from her brain apart from: keep Van Palmer as close as possible for as long as possible, comes to Van’s cheek, anchoring there as she parts her lips experimentally and closes them again, Van’s bottom lip slotting between both of Tai’s. It’s a deeper kiss, still mostly motionless, but now she can feel the warmth of Van’s mouth close to hers, and it’s fucking intoxicating.
Van’s thumb swipes absently over Taissa’s cheek, and Tai doesn’t move any more, just… waits.
After a few seconds, she pulls back.
“Shouldn’t we be… moving more?” Taissa asks.
Van scoffs. “Well, yeah, usually,” she says.
She’s still leaning forward, neck extended, face tilted ever-so-slightly up to look at Taissa. The position distracts Taissa slightly from the situation at hand, her mind wandering briefly, uncontrollably, to the thought of what Van might look like kneeling in front of her, chin tilted up, eyes expectant.
Oh fuck.
Why the fuck her mind just picture that?
“I just didn’t want to freak you out,” Van says, pulling her hand back from Taissa’s face.
“Why would I freak out?” Taissa replies, too quickly, a note of annoyed impatience slipping into her voice.
“I don’t know. Too much too soon?” Van says, brow furrowing.
“It’s fine,” Taissa says, because God forbid Van assumes Taissa isn’t absolutely perfect at something the first time she tries it, even kissing. Besides, she can’t help but feel slightly cheated out of a real first kiss. The first one was very chaste. Objectively. And she’d like to feel the real thing. “Do it properly,” she says. “I won’t freak out.”
Van considers her for a second, as if gauging whether Taissa is serious.
“Properly?” Van repeats, tongue darting out to swipe across her bottom lip.
Taissa nods rapidly, suddenly very aware of the way her pulse is beating throughout her entire body.
After only a moment's more deliberation, Van brings both hands to the sides of Taissa’s face, holding her steady as she leans forward and kisses her for a second time. Their noses bump together and Van scoffs, embarrassed, tilting her face.
There’s the same restrained slowness at first, but then Van pulls back a fraction of an inch and reconnects their lips with less control, mouth opening against Taissa’s lips, hands pulling her closer.
The feeling of it overtakes Taissa, all thoughts of control or perfection going quiet, replaced with the singular thought of Van, and the way her tongue is brushing Taissa’s as their mouths connect.
Absently, Taissa’s hands come to Van’s shoulders and she shifts position, coming to straddle Van’s waist without ever breaking their kiss. Van makes a quiet noise of surprise into Taissa’s mouth, but her hands move from Tai’s face to her hips, holding her firmly.
This is great. Taissa is going to get a good grade in making out.
Taissa is able to form semi-coherent thoughts for a moment more, until after a particularly daring swipe of her tongue, Van’s grip on her hips tightens, and one of Van’s legs slips between both of Tai’s and presses up. Taissa gasps into Van’s mouth in surprise at the feeling, a warm, urgent pulse of sensation rising between her legs. She tries to press down against Van’s leg, but before she can, Van pulls away.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Van says, leaning back from Taissa’s lips. She’s breathless, face flushed, lips shining. “I didn’t mean to do that, just… I mean, you were… uh, it was muscle memory, I think.”
Taissa blinks down at her.
“Muscle memory?”
Van squeezes her eyes shut in embarrassment. “I wasn’t trying to… start anything,” she says, somewhat desperately. “I just, uh…”
She trails off, clearing her throat and using her grip, still on Taissa’s hips, to move Taissa out of her lap, depositing her next to Van on the bed. Van scoots away, wiping her mouth absently with the heel of one hand and pushing her hair out of her face.
“We don’t have to stop,” Taissa says. There’s a humiliating note of desperation in her voice, but she can’t bring herself to care, not when all the blood that would usually supply her brain is currently concentrated between her legs.
“You know, I was really just… showing you the ropes,” Van says. “And I think you’re… basically set now. Go forth and… kiss whoever you want with your newfound knowledge. You seem pretty damn good at it already.”
She’s not looking at Taissa. Her face is a furious shade of red.
Van thinks Tai is a good kisser.
Taissa leans closer to her.
“I want to kiss you though,” Taissa says.
Van looks over at her, shaking her head slowly, though not in refusal. It looks more like disbelief. Maybe they can process emotions later. Taissa’s pretty sure if she can’t get back in Van’s lap in the next five seconds she’s going to explode.
“What did you mean muscle memory?” Taissa asks.
Van sighs, looking away.
“Nothing, that’s just… a thing people do,” Van says.
“A thing you do, with other girls,” Taissa says. “A thing you do enough to build subconscious reflexes?”
“No,” Van says quickly, going rapidly redder in the face. “No, just… fuck, I did it like one time. It’s nothing.”
“Huh,” Taissa says, nodding slowly. “Why are you embarrassed?”
A dry, surprised laugh passes Van’s lips.
“Why am I embarrassed?” she repeats. “I don’t know, Tai, maybe because everyone in school already thinks I’m a horny dyke freak trying to corrupt all the nice straight girls in New Jersey? And my very nice, very straight best friend is kind of throwing me for a fucking loop right now?”
Taissa blinks. “I’m your best friend?” she says.
“What?” Van says. “Yes, obviously.”
“Oh,” Tai says, smiling. “Yeah, you’re my best friend too.”
“Great,” Van says flatly. “Can we please just pretend this never happened now?”
“I don’t think you’re a horny dyke freak,” Taissa says. Van winces at the words. “I also wouldn’t really care if you were one,” Tai adds.
“Thanks,” Van says; same flat tone. “Um, you’re obviously not enjoying this film, maybe we should just call it a night.”
Taissa’s heart sinks. “No, I am enjoying it,” she protests.
“You literally have not watched one single scene of this movie with your full attention,” Van says.
“I’m invested in the story,” Taissa says, as steadily as she can. Her heart is still kind of racing. “Sex scandals, affairs, Russains, it’s… interesting.”
“Okay,” Van says, a tired exhalation of a word, eyes squeezing shut in frustration. “Great, let’s… watch the fucking movie then.”
“Van,” Tai says, scalded by the sudden annoyance in Van’s tone.
“Yes?” Van says, with an exasperated little shake of her head. “What, Tai, what?”
“I didn’t… mean to piss you off,” Tai says.
“No,” Van says, sliding off the bed, standing next to it and staring at Tai, anger twisting in her face. “No, but Tai, fuck.” She inhales sharply. “Just, like… Do you have any idea how it feels to be everybody’s fucking experiment? Fuck. I’m an idiot. I never should’ve— I’m just so stupid.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. She looks almost close to tears. Taissa wants to say something, but before she can think of a proper response, Van starts speaking again.
“You don’t have to be like this, I do,” Van says. “You kissing me isn’t the same as me kissing you.”
“What?” Taissa says, bewildered.
“It’s different for me!” Van says. “You can’t just… I mean, I don’t want to be someone you kiss just because I’m here, and I’m convenient, and it’s like a freebie because I’m not a guy. It’s not a freebie to me, okay? It means something.”
Taissa stares at Van, open mouthed, slowly processing.
“Van,” Taissa says slowly, “I don’t think you’re an experiment.”
“No, but, Tai, you get to live a whole life full of normal, happy relationships, and I am always going to be the weirdo who never gets a boyfriend, or a prom date, or a real fucking family. I can’t do anything else. I’m always going to be this. And… you are basically the only good thing in my fucking life, and you can’t be weird about this too, I won’t be able to stand it.”
“You’re—” Taissa begins, but Van shakes her head hard, silently cutting Tai off. Van’s eyes are welling up with tears now, and Taissa does not know how to fix it. How is it possible that she made all this worse?
“Actually, I think you should maybe just go, Tai,” Van says. “We’ll… finish the movie some other time.”
Van sniffles hard, blinking tears down her face, pushing her hair back from her face with one trembling hand.
“Van,” Tai tries.
“Tai, please,” Van says, “can you please just give me a fucking break?”
“Yeah, fine,” Tai says. “Just… call me. If you want.”
Van doesn’t respond.
Tai walks home.