Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Come on, Ship. Just stay at mine tonight,” Jackie said coolly, turning away from me with a slight smirk playing on her lips.

The butterflies in my stomach didn’t flutter, they spiraled, sharp and chaotic.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll call my mom and let her know.”

I said as I slipped out of the backseat.

“Bye, baby,” Jackie murmured, brushing a kiss over Jeff’s cheek before sliding out of the passenger seat without a second glance.

I looked back at him, but his eyes were still locked on her as she laced her fingers through mine and tugged me toward her house.

“They might be asleep already, so just be quiet,” she whispered as we stepped inside, that familiar playful smile never quite fading.

She was definitely buzzed, maybe more than buzzed, but not so much that she didn’t know exactly what she was doing. The glint in her eyes, the easy confidence in the way she touched me, it wasn’t nothing. It hadn’t been nothing for a while now.

This, whatever it is, is still new. Still fragile. But it is … something. Tonight wasn’t just another sleepover.

“Here… I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” she said, tossing a pair of her pajamas at me before disappearing into the bathroom. I was left standing in the center of her room, holding soft cotton and a fast heartbeat.

Jackie was usually bold about what she wanted, blunt, direct, unflinching. But lately… lately she’d been all lingering touches, coy grins, and unspoken things that hung in the air like static. Jackie, the eternal flirt, had always been .. suggestive but this .. it felt targeted. It felt personal.

And I hadn’t let myself really think about it until last Saturday night.

That night had felt like the beginning of something. A shift. A new normal, or maybe a new non-normal. A line blurred past recognition.

We hadn’t done anything, not really. But it had left my brain buzzing for days. Jackie had curled up beside me in bed, our legs tangled, her mouth too close to my ear when she whispered, “Do you ever think about it?”

She never clarified what “it” was. She didn’t have to. Her fingers had traced my wrist like it was something delicate. Her eyes didn’t leave mine.

We hadn’t done anything. But it felt .. intimate. Dangerous. Confusing.

But she spooked, her body language shifted so abruptly. She was on the edge of the bed before I could even process the moment.

We didn’t talk about it afterward. The silence was heavy with things unsaid.
That was last Saturday.

Now, it was the following weekend, and Jackie was brushing her teeth again, and I was standing in her room again, and everything felt the same but nothing was the same.

The shift had already happened. The slide into this in-between place where I didn’t know what she wanted from me, except maybe I did.

“Ship? Are you awake?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but I felt her tense beside me.

I could feel her tension as clearly as my own. The weight of whatever we weren’t saying sat between us like another body in the bed.

She knew. Of course she knew. I’d been different for years, I’d tried to bury it, hide it behind jokes and fake crushes and exaggerated reactions to boys, but Jackie saw me. She always had.

“She can feel it,” I thought. “She’s weirded out, she’s going to—”

“Shauna, I can hear you think-breathing,” she cut in, slicing through the panic.

“What the hell is think-breathing?” I whispered back, more curious than angry.

“You breathe different when you’re overthinking. Like this.” She demonstrated with quick, shallow breaths. It would’ve made me laugh if my heart wasn’t about to explode.

“Jax, I can expla—”

“I want to have sex—with Jeff,” she interrupted.

Of course. Of fucking course. This wasn’t about me. This was about her. About Jeff. About Jackie Jackie Jackie.

Always.

This is Jackie’s world and we’re lucky to be living in-

“And I want to practice… with you… before him.”

Silence. It was like all the air was yanked from the room and the sound with it.

“W-what?” I turned toward her sharply, disbelief crashing into me like a wave.

“I just… I want it to be good,” she rushed on. “People say their first time’s awkward, right? But if you practice, it doesn’t have to be. And if I practice with you, it’s not cheating, because we’re both… you know.”

A beat of silence.

“And it could be good for you too, since you’re like… the most virgin virgin ever,” she added with a weak laugh that barely masked the panic in her voice.

The words tumbled out of her mouth in a chaotic rush. Every word landed wrong. She was usually so smooth, so impossibly charming. But this? This was messy. Desperate. And a little cruel without meaning to be.

She wasn’t thinking about what she was asking. Or maybe she was, and that made it worse.

“Not cheating since we’re both ‘you know.’” The phrase ricocheted through my head, again and again. Girls. She meant because we’re both girls, it didn’t count. Practice. I was a fucking rehearsal.

I wasn’t a person to her right now, I was a trial run before she gave the big performance to Jeff.

I wanted to storm out. Wanted to scream. Tell her to go screw herself. Tell her practice wouldn’t make sex with Jeff any less disappointing. That I wasn’t a stand-in for Jeff-fucking-Sadouchey.

But instead, I heard my voice, quiet and humiliatingly obedient:

“Okay.”

Her whole body relaxed. I felt it against my side. She smiled, soft and god, almost grateful.

“We can start-” “Soon .. let’s just sleep tonight.”
I spoke quickly before she could finish her sentence.

She smiled shyly as she curled into my side, her head resting in the crook of my neck like we did this all the time. Like she hadn’t just asked me to help her fuck someone else better.

And just like that, I’d signed myself up for my own personal hell.

Yippee-fucking-yay.

“Sex practice” with the girl I’m hopelessly in love with… all for a stupid fucking boy.

My parents would be so proud.

What the fuck am I doing?

Chapter Text

It started on a Wednesday.

Not because I asked. Not out loud. I’d said soon, deliberately vague, like it didn’t matter. Like it wasn’t the only thing I’d been thinking about every night since Saturday. Since Jackie’s breath caught on my neck and something inside me had cracked open like heat under ice, aching and irreversible.

She brought it up casually, leaning against my locker like she did every day. Like it was nothing.

“You said soon,” she reminded me, standing in the doorway of my locker after practice, her hair pulled into a bun, loose hair framing her face perfectly. “It’s Wednesday. That feels soon enough, don’t you think?”

My heart pounded so hard I was sure she could hear it over the dull clang of lockers and the slow shuffle of cleats and gym bags. My fingers clenched the strap of mine tighter, anchoring me.

“Y- yeah. Sure.”

She smiled at that. Small. Secret. Like she’d just won a game I didn’t even know we were playing.

I’d forgotten how determined she could be when she wanted something. Or maybe I hadn’t. Maybe I just liked pretending she wasn’t paying that much attention.

We ended up in her room before sunset. The light pouring through her curtains turned everything gold, like we were already inside a memory. Like this had already happened, and all we had to do was live it.

Jackie moved around the space with the kind of ease that made me feel awkward by default. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt and soft cotton shorts that made my throat dry. She caught me looking, but didn’t say anything.

She’d clearly cleaned, her bed was made, her perfume lingered a little heavier in the air than usual, and the playlist she had playing was just shy of intentional.

“I wasn’t, like, getting ready for you or anything,” she muttered, catching me glancing at her damp hair. “I just felt gross after practice.”

I didn’t respond. Didn’t trust myself to. I just nodded and sat down on the edge of her bed, trying to look comfortable in a body that suddenly didn’t feel like mine.

She sat beside me on the bed. Our knees touched. They always did. But today, right now, the contact was searing. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Every nerve under my skin was on edge.

“So,” she said after a long silence, “we could start with kissing. Just … to break the ice.”

I nodded again. My throat felt tight.

There was a pause. Long enough that we both let out nervous little laughs.

“This is weird, right?” she said, glancing at me sideways.

“Yeah .. a little.” I spoke honestly, “But It doesn’t have to be,” I continued with a mask of confidence.

She smiled sheepishly. Another beat passed. We looked at each other. Not smiling. Not laughing. And then, without a cue, without a signal, we leaned in. At the same time. Eyes closed. Breath held.

We met in a chased kiss, brief. A pause as we looked at each other. For a moment it was a mistake, an unbearable, irreversible mistake.

And then her eyes shut and she melted into me with fervor. Her lips slightly parted.

I tilted my head and leaned down into her and she opened her mouth further giving me more room to explore. Our tongues collided for the first time and it awoke something deep in my core.

She tasted like mint and vanilla, soft and inviting, like the first sip of hot tea after a cold walk home. From my hands to my feet, my whole body was aching with desire.

She shifted back slightly, bracing herself with her hands behind her on the mattress. The move made her shirt ride up.

My left hand moved on instinct, landing on her thigh, my thumb stroking upward, searching for more. Her skin was warm, velvet-soft, and when she didn’t stop me, I let my fingers wander a little higher.

Then she bit my bottom lip, just barely.

I gasped softly, startled.

I pulled back for air, eyes fluttering open. She didn’t move. Her eyes were still shut. Her lips followed mine eagerly.

I surged forward again. I kissed her harder. Needier. Desperate to lose myself in this moment. My teeth grazed her lip in return, and then I sucked gently on it, the way I’d only ever imagined doing in the dark.

Jackie let out a soft, breathy sound, not quite a moan, more like a gasp that wanted to be one.

Without thinking I broke away from her lips and swiftly moved to her neck. A brief press of my lips and it happened.

Completely unmistakable.

She moaned.

Not quiet. Not polite. It tore out of her, full and deep, like it had been pulled from someplace low and unguarded. The sound reverberated straight through me, hot and raw. It came from her throat and spilled out against my mouth like something primal. A sound that didn’t belong to best friends or practice sessions or anything we were saying this was.

She froze.

I froze.

Her body went rigid in my hands. She reached up, covering her mouth like the sound had slipped out by accident and now she had to reel it back in.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, dragging a hand down her face. “Shit, I didn’t mean to—I don’t know where that came from—”

She was flushed, breathless. Hot. Swollen lips and red cheeks, wrecked in a way I’d never seen her before.

I stayed quiet. My heart was thundering, but I didn’t move. Didn’t say what I was thinking: that the sound of her wanting me had just changed everything. That it had hit somewhere deep and sharp and permanent.

“I-” she started, voice tight. “We can stop for today.”

“I- uh didn’t mean to make it weird.” She filled the silence.

Before I could answer she stood, a little too fast, brushing imaginary lint from her shorts like she needed something to do with her hands.

“I’ll be right back,” she mumbled. “Just gonna get something.”

And I sat there, lips swollen, breath shallow. My thighs clenched instinctively. Her taste still on my tongue.

Her moan echoed in my chest like it belonged to me. I’d drawn it out, and now I couldn’t stop hearing it on loop.

I had to remind myself who this was for. Why we were even doing this. Practice makes perfect. Practice makes perfect.

Chapter Text

The fucking boob dress for a casual hangout at Lottie’s house was overkill, and I knew it. But after Jackie spent the entire week avoiding me post Moaning Gate, I was craving any kind of attention I could get, from anyone, honestly.

Fine. Maybe I wanted her attention. Maybe I wanted her to notice I’d taken her advice and worn the dress, the one she’s always begging me to wear. The one that clings to my chest like it was sewn on wet. Whatever.

From the driveway, I could see the team through Lottie’s giant living room windows, sprawled across the couches and carpet, drinks in hand, laughing like they were in a teen movie.

Everyone looked cute, as usual. But I felt overdressed, tight red fabric, plunging neckline, combat boots I pretended were ironic. The second I opened the door, I was hit with the scent of booze and weed, and the sound of high-volume chaos.

My eyes found Jackie immediately. She was on the couch talking to Tai, wearing a sundress that should’ve been illegal. It clung to her hips, barely brushing the tops of her thighs, and her legs—

“Damn, Shaun! You clean up nice!” Van’s voice tore through my thoughts like a bullet through a water balloon. She emerged from the kitchen holding two beers and a lopsided grin.

I laughed, flustered. “Thanks?”

“Yeah, Shauna—what gives?” Akilah added, wide-eyed. “You got a date after this or something?”

From across the room, Jackie’s head snapped up like she’d been summoned by name. Her eyes locked with mine for a second too long before she looked back down at her drink.

“No date,” I said, shrugging. “Just figured you guys deserved to see me in something other than a flannel. A gift, really.”

Lottie giggled, brushing past me to grab a slice of pizza. “You do look hot,” she said casually. “Maybe I’ll take you out myself.” She continued with a goofy smile.

That earned a low whistle from Van and a snort from Mari, who rolled her eyes but not before checking me out too.

Jackie stayed on the couch, but I could feel her looking. Every few minutes, like clockwork, her eyes found mine and then darted away again.

“Okay, truth or dare!” Mari yelled from the living room, holding up an empty beer bottle like a torch.

“Fuck yes,” Nat said, already tipsy and halfway through a joint.

By the time I made it over, the only open seat left was next to Jackie. Of course.

She didn’t acknowledge me when I sat down, didn’t even flinch. But her thigh was warm against mine, and I felt it like a shot of whiskey behind my ribs.

“Okay, Tai,” Mari said, twirling the bottle. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth. Obviously.” Tai smirked.

“Is it true that you’re not a virgin?”

“Oooooooohhh,” the group chorused like a Greek choir of horny idiots.

Tai laughed. “A lady never kisses and tells.”

“The hickey on your neck does tell a lot though,” Van teased, leaning into her shoulder.

The laugher that filled the room was immense and immediate.

“Alright, fine, I’m not a virgin. Fuck you guys,” Tai said, raising her beer in mock salute. Everyone cheered.

A few rounds passed, mostly harmless stuff, and then Lottie locked eyes with Nat. “Okay, Nat.” She spoke slowly and deliberately “I dare youuuu …” she paused like she was deep in thought, “To kiss someone in this room.”

Gasps. Cackles. Van added, “Unless you’re too chicken, of course.”

Nat grinned like the devil. “Do you even know me? The day I back down from a dare is the day hell freezes over.”

She stood dramatically, tapping her finger against her lips like she was genuinely giving this some thought. Then she turned to me.

“Come on, Shipman. You’re the hottest one here tonight. Let’s give ‘em a show.”

Jackie’s entire body tensed beside me. Most people probably wouldn’t notice. I did. Her posture went stiff, her fingers clenched around her drink. She looked like she’d just been slapped and had to pretend it didn’t hurt.

What’s that about?

I shoved the thought aside and took Nat’s outstretched hand.

“GO GO GO!” the room chanted. Nat pulled me in by the hips and dipped me so dramatically and so intentionally it felt like the climax of dirty dancing or something.

She tasted like vodka and cigarettes. Not unpleasant, just not Jackie.

Her hands found my waist, firm and confident. My arms looped around her neck. Her mouth moved against mine with purpose. She was good, great, even, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Jackie’s mouth. Her heat. Her breath. Her stupid full lips.

And then it was over. Everyone whooped and cheered. Mari gagged theatrically. I saw something flicker across Lottie’s face, like a light turning off. Maybe that was supposed to be her kiss. Oops.

“Damn, Shipman,” Nat said, catching her breath. “You sure that was your first kiss?”

More laughter. I smiled with an outstretched arm and a middle finger up, my heart hammering.

And Jackie?

Gone.

I scanned the room. Empty couch.

I leaned toward Laura Lee. “Did you see where Jackie went?”

“Bathroom.” Laura Lee responded. “Said it might be food poisoning, but I feel fine.”

Food poisoning. Right.

I made my way down the hallway and knocked lightly on the bathroom door. “Jax? You okay? Laura Lee said you might have food poisoning…”

The door whipped open.

Jackie stood there, furious.

“What the fuck, Shauna?” she snapped, yanking me inside and slamming the door shut.

“Ouch. What?”

“Why the hell would you agree to kiss-no-make out with Natalie fucking Scatorccio?”

“It was a dare! It was fun! What’s your problem?”

“My problem is—” she stopped herself, then shook her head, flustered. “Just… you don’t know where her mouth’s been.”

“Oh my god, Jackie, seriously? That’s not fair. And not exactly feminist.”

“Fuck feminism, Shauna. You could get herpes.”

“You’re being a fucking dick. Nat’s done nothing to you.”

“Whatever. Kiss whoever you want.” She shoved past me, leaving me alone in the bathroom, hot with confusion and something else I couldn’t quite place.

What the fuck is her problem?

Nat’s not dumb. She’s responsible. She gets tested. She’s careful. So what if I kissed her?

It’s not like I give Jackie shit about Jeff, who’s probably tongue-deep in someone else right now.

As the night went on the party dwindled. People filtered out. I grabbed my keys and headed to my car.

“Got any room for me, Ship?”

Her voice was quiet behind me. That nickname. That smile. That look. My anger dissolved like salt in warm water.

“Shut up and get in.”

We drove in silence. My heart beat steady, like it was biding its time.

As we pulled up to her house, she finally spoke.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” she said softly. “It was dumb.”

I nodded.

“I just worry about your judgment sometimes, Shauna.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I was too tired to unpack it.

“Thanks for the concern, Jax.”

“Night, Ship,” she said, slipping out of the car.

I always watched her go inside. Just in case. But halfway to her door, she turned and came up to my window.

Her face was unreadable, but her voice wasn’t.

“Stay tonight?”

I should say no. I know that.

But she looks so fucking good in that dress. And she’s looking at me like that.

“Yeah,” I said, almost breathless.

Chapter Text

Jackie’s room is too quiet. The door clicks shut behind us like it’s sealing something in.

I hear the turn of the lock.

“I’ll grab you something to sleep in,” she says, already halfway to her dresser, her voice unsteady.

She tosses a soft t-shirt onto the bed, worn thin with time, smelling like her perfume.

I don’t move. I just watch her as she peels off her dress with a practiced tug over her head. She’s not being seductive, exactly. She’s just being Jackie. Confident. Oblivious and fully aware at the same time.

Her bra matches her underwear. Of course it does.

I think my brain stalls for a second. Or maybe it’s just everything else in my body trying to keep me upright while every cell in my body short-circuits.

I try to breathe, but I’m too aware of my own body. Of the heat pooling low in my stomach. Of how damp I am and how flushed my skin feels just standing here watching her.

Fuck.

She’s not even looking at me when she says, “You gonna change or just stand there staring?”

It’s teasing. Barely. But her voice is taut, stretched like a rubber band that might snap.

“Sorry,” I say, but I’m not.

I turn around to change, even though I know she’s watching me in the mirror. I pull my dress over my head slowly, pretending I’m not dragging it out for effect. My bra strap slips off my shoulder on its own, an accident so perfect it feels scripted.

I think I hear her swallow.

By the time I turn around, I’m just in her t-shirt, which hangs mid-thigh. I don’t bother with a bra. I have a feeling I won’t need it.

Her eyes are dark. She’s on the bed already, propped up on one arm. She pats the spot beside her, soft and expectant.

I climb in, cautious, scared proximity might start a fire. She shifts, positioning herself so our knees touch. Her hand brushes mine, lingers, then trails up to rest lightly on my thigh. Casual. Possessive. A contradiction, like everything Jackie does.

Her fingers drum idly, like she’s pretending not to mean anything by it. But her gaze drops to my lips.

The silence stretches between us, crackling with something unspoken and hot. I can feel her breath at my side.

Her voice is low when she finally speaks. “Why’d you kiss her like that?”

I stiffen. “What?”

“Nat,” she says. “You kissed her like you wanted it. Like you do with .. guys.”

I turn to look at her. “It was a dare.”

“I know,” she says, like it’s hurting her to admit it. “But you didn’t have to enjoy it.”

I roll my eyes. “Jesus, Jackie. You didn’t have to enjoy it—it was Nat’s dare.”

“You did enjoy it, though.”

I can’t help it, I laugh. “Nat’s hot and she knows what she’s doing. Why shouldn’t I enjoy it?”

Jackie lifts her head, glare sharp. “You think she’s hot?”

“Even you think she’s hot,” I fire back, half-laughing just to defuse the tension crawling over my skin.

She doesn’t smile.

She stands slowly, walking to my side of the bed with deliberate calm, like a lion circling prey. Her gaze pins me down.

“Forget it,” she says, cool and clipped. “Let’s just practice. Unless you’re saving your energy for someone else on the team.”

My stomach flips. There it is.

The bite in her voice. The jealousy she won’t name.

“Jackie, I-whatever. Fine.”

Her smile is razor-thin. “Fine.”

There’s no hesitation when she climbs into my lap, knee between my thighs, hands finding my waist, nothing about it feels like practice.

It’s intent. It’s territorial.

Her fingers dig into my sides like punishment.

Her mouth crashes into mine with heat and purpose, like she’s trying to rewrite the memory of someone else’s lips on mine.

Just want.

Her kiss is all teeth and breath and desperation. Her hands find the back of my neck and tangle in my hair.

We fall into sync, our lips keeping perfect time. I gasp and she swallows it, her grip tightening like she can’t bear to let any part of me go.

Then her hips shift. She’s straddling me.

Instinctively, my hands go to her waist for balance. She whimpers so softly I almost miss it.

Then she shocks me, suddenly I’m the one straddling her, legs spread around her waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Her hands slide to my hips, gripping hard as her lips drag along my jaw.

She pulls back just enough to make me open my eyes. The loss of her mouth feels like being dropped from something high. She’s watching me, waiting.

For permission.

Her fingers skim the hem of my -of her shirt.

That’s the question.

“I don’t have anything on under,” I say, breathless. Weirdly self-conscious, despite the million times she’s seen me naked. This feels different. This is different.

But desire burns through hesitation.

I nod, too eagerly.

Her eyes pupils widen, blown and dark, something wild and hungry sparking in them.

Her hand slides up from my hip with excruciating patience, fingers skating over skin, reverent, deliberate, until they ghost beneath my breasts.

As she pulls the shirt off, I reach for her, lips aching for hers again but she leans back, just out of reach. A red blush creeps up her neck and cheeks.

She’s transfixed. Lips parted. Tongue peeking out like instinct is guiding her now.

Her lips find my neck, slow and exploratory. Her hands splay over my stomach, fingers brushing furiously over tense muscle.

And then-she bites. Sharp. Sudden.

My breath shudders.

Her tongue follows immediately, soothing where her teeth left fire. The contrast rips a sound from me I didn’t mean to make, low and guttural, startled from somewhere bone-deep.

Her breath catches, like the sound did something to her too.

I freeze.

This is where she stops. That breathless, blistering high before she remembers herself and pulls away.

But she doesn’t.

Instead: she smiles against my skin.

And then she sucks harder, like she wants to leave a mark this time.

“Will you say my name next time you do that?” she whispers, hot against my ear.

I shudder. “Whatever you want.”

My voice is ruined. I can’t think. I can barely breathe.

“God, Shauna…”

I grind into her- unintentionally but completely. She gasps into my mouth.

Her hands fly to my hips. She guides me, a push and pull that creates a rhyme between our bodies.

Her mouth trails lower, past my collarbone. She kisses her way down, lips grazing my bare chest. She looks up, checking.

“Can I-?”

“Please,” I breathe, cutting her off, my hands find the back of her neck and pull her into me as I arch my chest into her mouth.

She wraps her lips around my nipple slowly, purposefully, like she’s claiming it. Claiming me.

Her tongue moves with precision, circling, licking, and finally sucking.

The sound that tears out of me is obscene.

She whines in response. Her hips jerk up, reflexive.

My core grinds against her in frantic, sloppy circles -desperate. Soaked underwear. Cotton shorts. Barely anything between us. Every shift makes my hips grind down harder. Less controlled. I need her.

She groans, deeper this time, her mouth still wrapped around me, my hands buried in her hair.

“Fuck, Jackie- please…”

That word please snaps something in her.

She reacts with a sound I feel more than hear. Her mouth goes hot and ravenous, her moan vibrating through my chest.

Then she flips us again and it’s effortless. She pins me down with a hand on my sternum, holding me there.

Her mouth stays at my left nipple, hot and open, as her other hand slides lower, achingly slow down my abdomen. Her fingers trace circles on my hips before she pulls back, eyes meeting mine.

“Say my name,” she almost whines. My hips jerk in response.

“Jackie please,” I whisper, wrecked, as her hand reaches the waistband of my soaked underwear. Her fingers toy with the elastic, teasing. Her mouth finds its way back to my chest just as-

The front door creaks open.

We freeze.

“Shit,” Jackie breathes, already rolling off me.

I scramble for the shirt she gave me, nearly tripping over the edge of the bed as I yank it on. My heart is hammering out of my chest.

Footsteps. The floorboards creak again.

“Jack? Are you asleep?”

The lock.

Her eyes go wide. She lunges for the knob, unlocking it a second before the door opens.

Mr. Taylor stands in the doorway, arms crossed.

“A locked door while your mom and I are out?” he says, narrowing his eyes. “Jacqueline Elizabeth Taylor, if Jeff is in here, I swear to God-”

He pushes past her before she can stop him.

I’m standing next to the bed, clutching the too-big shirt around me, pulse still hammering.

Mr. Taylor spots me and relaxes instantly.

“Shauna. Hey. Thank God,” he laughs.

I force a smile. “I was just changing, Mr. Taylor.”

Jackie hasn’t moved. Her face flushed, lips bruised, pupils blown. She looks wild and stunned. Like she hasn’t come back into her body yet.

The room is still thick with tension, desire .. sex.

He doesn’t notice.

Or he pretends not to.

But I see it, the flicker in his eyes. The way they sweep the room. The disheveled sheets. Jackie’s face. The tingle on my neck that has to be visible.

His jaw clenches, just slightly.

“We brought back dessert, I’ll bring it up,” he says finally, backing out slowly. “And Shauna, your shirt’s on backwards … and inside out.” He finishes with a tight smile.

The silence is heavy.

The door clicks shut behind him.

And all I can think is two things:

That was too close.

and

Jackie Taylor is never going to touch me again.

Chapter Text

Jackie doesn’t look at me after her dad leaves the second time. A piece of cheesecake that neither of us can stomach sits on her dresser.

She locks the door again, out of habit or panic, I don’t know. Then she presses her back against it like she’s holding up the walls.

Her chest is rising too fast. Her lips are still red and swollen. Her skin’s flushed and her hair’s a mess and I’m still sitting on the edge of her bed, covered in the memory of what we just did.

What we almost did.

She won’t look at me.

“I should shower,” she says, voice thin and stretched tight as she makes her way to the bed, straightening the sheets and fixing the pillows like she’s cleaning a crime scene.

My pulse is still pounding between my thighs. My shirt’s still backwards and inside out and the skin of my chest is still tingling from where her mouth had been.

I blink. Slowly. Trying to pull myself out of it.

But she’s already turning away, already gathering her clothes and stuffing the moment into a drawer she’ll never open again.

“Jackie.”

She freezes at my voice. It sounds foreign in this room now.

She doesn’t turn. Doesn’t speak.

“Can you just…” I swallow hard. “Can you look at me?”

There’s a pause. A breath. A tightening.

She says it without facing me. “Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t make this into a big deal,” she snaps, quiet but sharp. “You always-“ she stops herself. Shakes her head. “Just- can we not do this right now?”

I blink.

I almost laugh, except nothing’s funny. “What is ‘this’? Talking?”

She exhales hard. Her head turns slightly, she looks back at me, barely, her body still facing forward. “No. This-you… looking at me like you expect something.”

I don’t even know what she means. Or maybe I do. Maybe it’s the way I’m sitting here still wanting her, still waiting for her, while she’s already halfway out the door of the moment we just shared.

“I expect honesty, Jackie,” I say, hating how small I sound.

She turns fully towards me, finally, but it’s not the Jackie I had in my mouth ten minutes ago. It’s the polished version, controlled, annoyed, something cruel sparking in her eyes.

“Okay, you want honesty?” she says, arms crossed. “This is messy. And complicated. And maybe we shouldn’t do it anymore.”

My heart falls into my ass. But I breathe. Slow. Shaky. “Do you want me to go?”

She hesitates. It lasts too long.

“…No,” she says finally. “Just- I don’t want to talk anymore.” And with that the door shuts silently.

She disappears into the bathroom, and the click of the lock is louder than the creak of the front door.

I sit in the silence, in the scent of us still thick in the air. I fold my arms across my chest and press my thighs together like it’ll stop the ache there. My mouth still tastes like her. My skin still feels branded.

And I know this part. I know what comes next.

Jackie will come out of the bathroom in twenty minutes in a fresh shirt with damp hair and a new version of herself, scrubbed, clean, emotionally dry. She’ll climb into bed like she didn’t almost fuck me. And we won’t talk about what happened. Ever.

We’ll turn off the lights. Pretend to sleep. And she’ll stay a breath too close, but not close enough.

I’ll count the cracks on her ceiling and wonder if she means it, if this is truly the last time I’ll experience her like that. Jackie’s never been one to follow through on her words but there was a certain finality in her tone.

I lie back on the bed and close my eyes, trying to slow the riot inside me.

Jackie is everything I want and everything I can’t have, and somehow, she’s the one who made it that way.

The water runs in the bathroom. I hear her drop something, shampoo maybe, and mutter a quiet curse. She sounds like herself again. Like the Jackie everyone else gets to see.

And I wonder if she’s trying to scrub me off her skin.

Because I can still feel her on mine.

And I don’t think I ever want it to fade.

Chapter Text

As predicted it’s like it never happened.

That night, her hands, her lips, her tongue on me. Her mouth kissing, licking, sucking. Those breathless, obscene moans into my neck. We never talk about it.

I pick her up for school like always. She flashes that too-perfect smile and brushes her hand across my back in the hallway like she didn’t spend last weekend nearly getting off on my thigh.

And I let her. That’s the worst part. I let her act like she’s normal. Like we’re normal.

Tonight is a team dinner, Van’s idea. “Bring your flavor of the month,” she said, which meant it was supposed to be fun and flirty, a low pressure meet-your-girlfriend’s-insane-teammates thing. I hadn’t planned to bring anyone. Obviously.

When I walk in, Jackie’s already there. With Jeff. And Randy.

Jackie smiles politely like she didn’t bring the emotional equivalent of a war crime to team dinner.

“Shauna!” Randy lights up like I’m his prom date. “I saved you a seat!” He gestures to the spot beside him, also directly next to Jackie. 

I sit. Too aware of myself and the space I occupy beside her.

“You look amazing tonight, Shauna,” he says. “Seriously, like, magazine cover-level. If it were a magazine about like… really hot geniuses.”

Van snorts.

“Fucking christ, Randy, can you save some dignity for dessert,” she says.

Randy flushes. I smile politely. Jackie tries to hide a small laugh at Van’s comment.

We sit. Jackie beside me. Jeff beside her. Randy beside me. Together, Jackie and I are the meat in a Jeff-Randy sandwich. Just as gross as it sounds.

The table’s loud, cluttered with food and overlapping conversations. Van’s already two swigs into Nat’s flask, telling Akilah how her mom’s last hookup had a tattoo of Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes peeing on a football.

“He had the nerve to say it was ‘tasteful,’” Van says, scandalized.

“Is it still technically a red flag if it’s so bad it loops back around to funny?” Akilah asks, sipping soda like it’s wine.

“Only if it’s not on his lower back,” Van fires back, and the table erupts in laughter and disbelief. 

The vinyl booth is sticky and the overhead lights are flickering like we’re in a horror movie. Jackie’s leg is pressed against mine and it’s making me hot. I pretend to care about my italian soda. I don’t.

On the other side of the table, Lottie leans forward, composed and beautiful, sipping her drink. She stares at Nat with a little too much intensity- something I clock immediately. Not because I care. Just… being observant.

Nat is sprawled out next to Mari, jacket half off, legs wide, laughing with her whole face. Mari’s practically in her lap. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Nat had a thing for her. But I do know better and Nat flirts for sport.

“I’m just saying,” Nat declares, waving a breadstick like it’s a cigarette, “if aliens landed and asked for our most evolved specimen, we should hand over Mari. No hesitation.”

The table cracks up.

“You laugh now, but I’d save Earth from an alien invasion by fucking all the aliens,” Mari announces like she’s accepting a Nobel prize.

Tai nearly chokes on her drink.

“You’d cause an intergalactic incident in minutes,” Van deadpans.

“She can’t fuck them all in minutes,” Nat sighs, like she’s being reasonable. “Give her, like, a week.”

“I’d ration them out by species,” Mari says thoughtfully. “Start with the hot ones, work my way down.”

“But would Mari still be our first pick if the aliens wanted the best kisser?” Tai asks, mock-serious.

“Not according to Danny Mears,” Lottie laughs into her soda.

“Don’t sweat it Mar. Danny’s cousin can just do things you can’t.” Van adds, grinning as Tai shoves her lightly.

Mari flips her off, but she’s smiling.

“Ha ha ha, none of you would qualify as Earth’s best kisser. Okay, well- maybe Nat," Mari snorts, elbowing her in the ribs. "But that’s only because she’s kissed, like, everyone."

"Hey, not everyone ," Nat says, feigning offense. Her grin curls. "Not for lack of trying."

She turns her gaze on me.

“Shauna.”

My straw freezes between my teeth. “Huh?”

“You all saw that truth or dare kiss. I mean I’ve never had anyone make me question my own technique before.”

The heat on my cheeks burns so intensely I feel like I'm glowing. I hate how easily Nat does this to me and she loves it.

I laugh, trying to breathe through it. "I was just really committed to the bit." 

“Sure, yeah” Nat says, that slow grin still playing on her lips. “I think your tongue might have been more committed than you were.”

I choke on my drink. The table howls, but it all goes fuzzy at the edges. Jackie’s hand is suddenly on my thigh. 

Right there. Under the table.

Her fingers drag slowly up the inside of my leg like we’re alone. Like Jeff isn’t sitting inches away and we aren’t surrounded on all sides by the world's nosiest high school soccer team.

“Well, if Nat’s giving out gold stars, Shauna, you must really be something. Considering she’s got.. such a big grading curve.”

A few forced chuckles ripple around the table.

Nat just blinks, unbothered. She leans back casually, spinning her fork between her fingers.

“What can I say? I’ve done the research. You’d be surprised how many people fail the oral exam.”

Jackie smiles back, a little too tight to be friendly, “I don’t know if I’d be surprised considering the only things so many of those people had to offer was five minutes and a light up.” 

Nat’s eyes flash, amused and ruthless. She leans forward, voice soft with a razor-sharp edge.

“Jackie,” Nat says sweetly. “As much as I appreciate your dedication to being Wiskayok High’s biggest bitch, you should worry less about what I’m doing with my mouth and more about what Jeff isn’t doing with yours.”

The table goes dead silent.

You can see the muscles in Jackie’s jaw clench, her piercing gaze never leaving Natalie’s. Jeff’s wide eyes drop to his plate, hands clasped tightly in his lap. 

Nat bites her lip in a slow, smug smirk, clearly savoring the chaos she’s caused.

“Anyway,” Nat says, voice dropping playfully but still holding its edge, “Shauna, your entrée was tiny.” She twists her fork thoughtfully. “Try this. It’s... incredibly mediocre.”

Before I can stop myself, I open my mouth.

Nat leans in and feeds me a bite, her hand cupping my jaw gently like we’re the leads in some cheesy rom-com.

Sauce clings to the corner of my mouth, and before I can wipe it, Nat’s finger brushes it away,  then she licks it off.

Jackie outwardly stiffens but under the table her fingers dig into my thigh, painfully hard. 

I want to scream. In pain. In arousal. Maybe both.

She leans in slightly, her perfume -lavender and vanilla- short-circuiting my brain. Her lips brush my ear.

“It’s really not a good look, a dare with E-ZPass is one thing but letting her flirt with you like that in front of everyone is gross,” she whispers, voice low and irritated, using a cruel nickname Nat had all sophomore year. “In front of Randy,” she adds, like he matters in any capacity.

My stomach twists, a sick, dizzying mix of anger and want.

Before I can say a word, her hand goes higher. Her fingers brush the damp fabric of my underwear and I yelp- loudly. I jolt, spilling my drink across my lap.

“Shit,” I mutter, trying to hide the flush rising up my neck.

Jackie’s hand retreats -momentarily- only to return, her warm palm now high on my inner thigh.

I cover the drama with a cough, but it fools no one. Everyone stares.

“What the fuck was that?” Tai asks bewildered. 

Jackie sits twirling her pasta with her dominant hand, a wicked smile on her lips. 

“Yeah, Shauna, what the fuck was that?” she echoes, low and teasing, before taking a bite.

I glare at her.

“Sorry. Just one of those random sharp side pains,” I mutter, staring down at my food.

That seems to satisfy most everyone. The chatter resumes.

But Van’s eyes linger.

She leans toward me and deadpans, “Those random spasms are the worst, just sudden and super inconvenient. Good thing you had a cold drink in your lap to, y’know…” She looks between Jackie and I with a small smirk, “cool things off.”

She says it just loud enough for me to hear. And Jackie.

Jackie’s hand vanishes after that. Her attention goes fully to Jeff. Like she’s punishing me.

So I’m left to talk to Randy, who has no understanding of the concept of friend zones.

Eventually, dinner wraps. Jackie and Randy climb into Jeff’s car without looking back.

I head to my own.

Before I can get in, Nat’s voice rings out.

“Yo, Shipman! We’re going to Lottie’s for some after dinner omelets,” she says, fingers miming a joint as she slips into Lottie’s backseat next to Van.

“Yeah, Shaun,” Van adds with a smirk. “Come with us, we’ll keep you dry!”

Tai rolls her eyes but smiles, nudging Van’s arm.

And like magic, Jackie materializes next to my car door.

She’s silent at first. Her hand plays on my arm like she’s adjusting my jacket, smoothing something that doesn’t need smoothing. 

“Busy night for you,” she says, voice soft, falsely amused. “Flirting. Smoking. Nat.” Her eyes flick to the car, to Nat laughing loudest in the backseat. “Trying to check every box, are we?”

I bristle. “Jesus, Jackie. I’m allowed to have fun.”

She hums, like it’s a funny thought. “Sure. It’s just… you don’t always make the best choices when you’re .. having fun.” She leans in slightly, brushing my hair behind my ear with infuriating care. “Lucky you’ve got me.”

I stare at her, heat rising in my chest. “I don’t need you babysitting me.”

She smiles, sweet, quiet, so condescending it makes my skin crawl. “That’s not how it looks.”

I step back, away from her hands. “You know what? You don’t get to stand here acting like you’re looking out for me. You’re worried about losing control.”

Her smile falters, but she stays silent.

I keep going. “You don’t like that I can have fun without you. That maybe, not everything has to orbit around you.”

For the first time, she doesn’t have a quick comeback. She just stands there, jaw tight, lips pressed together.

I don’t wait for her to recover. I turn, open my door, and slide into my car. 

She’s still standing there, frozen, as I pull away.

Chapter Text

Lottie’s house is stupidly perfect as always. Everything smells like eucalyptus and money.

Lottie’s curled next to Natalie on the floor like she just happened to land there. But no one just happens to land that close to Natalie. Lottie’s doing that thing where she laughs too hard, her hands linger a little too long, and she stares like Nat hung the moon.

Tai and Van are doing their usual low-effort PDA in the corner. Van has her head resting in Tai’s lap and Tai’s fingers in her hair, lazy and casual and somehow more intimate than making out. I envy that, even if I’ll never admit it. They’re comfortable in their skin, in each other. I can’t even figure out what mine is doing half the time.

I stand awkwardly in the corner, sipping on a drink. I’m desperately trying to act like I belong here without Jackie but I feel her absence like a bullet wound.

“Hey,” Natalie says, catching me mid-stare. “You look like you need something to do.”

She pulls a joint from her jacket pocket like it’s a playing card she’s been waiting to lay down.

“I don’t really smoke,” I say, automatically.

She raises an eyebrow. “You don’t have to lie to me about your proclivities, Shipman. I’m not Jackie.”

That’s all it takes. The match flares. The tip glows. She takes one long drag, then steps into my space. I think she’s going to hand it to me, but instead she leans in close and exhales, slow and deliberate, straight into my mouth.

It hits hot and heady, dizzying. I blink up at her, my pulse quickening, and Natalie grins like she knows exactly what she just did to me.

“You’ve done that before,” I say dumbly.

“Yeah.” She shrugs, “maybe.” She finishes with a smirk.

I can feel Lottie’s stare before I see it.

I lower my voice. “You know you’re pissing her off, right?”

Natalie follows my glance toward Lottie, but there’s something sharp under her lazy grin now. “Good.”
I blink. “Good?”

Nat shrugs. “Lottie… she’s complicated.”

I sense it, something heavier under her tone. “So you did notice she’s been throwing herself at you for months?”

Natalie scoffs but her smile falters for half a second. “I didn’t think it was real. She’s not supposed to want someone like me.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

“Look at her.” She gestures vaguely. “Perfect house, perfect future, perfect girl. She’s the kind of person who only wants you if she thinks she can fix you. And I’m not… fixable.”

There’s something bitter about how she says it. My stomach twists.

“I think you’re wrong,” I say softly. “But I also think you like making her jealous.”

She glances over her shoulder at Lottie who’s still watching. “Yeah,” Nat says finally. “Tonight I do.”

The weight of her statement settles between us like static. And for the first time all night, I realize how hot my skin feels. My blood’s boiling and buzzing. It’s not just anger. It’s not just resentment. It’s everything.

“You know,” I say suddenly, high on the adrenaline of my thoughts of Jackie, “if you really wanted to make her crazy.” Taking a step into her space.

“What?” She blinks, having been caught off guard for the first time ever.

It’s not a suggestion. It’s a dare.

This molten, reckless fury bubbles under my skin and I want to shove Jackie’s possessive, controlling bullshit right back down her throat. I want to do something I can’t take back.

Nat blinks, but her grin is slow and dangerous. “They’ll never let us live it down,” she glances at Tai, Van, and Mari still chatting, none of them paying us any mind.

“I’ll live.” My voice is steady but my stomach flips.
She doesn’t wait.

Her hands pull me in by my hips, lips meeting mine softly at first, playful even, but it builds fast. Her tongue brushes mine and it’s dizzying. Sweet. Rough. Electric. I can taste the cherry lip balm, the weed, the heat rising between us. My whole body is alive and thrumming.

The slam of a door breaks the moment like glass shattering.

I freeze. Natalie just stands there with a shit eating grin.

Jackie stands in the doorway.

Her stare is locked on me. Her nostrils flare. Her face goes red. She steps forward like a predator who’s spotted her prey.

She says nothing at first, just grabs my hand with a force that nearly jerks my shoulder out of its socket. She drags me toward the stairs.

“Someone’s in trouble,” I hear Van call after us with a drunken giggle. The room dissolves back into nervous chatter.

As we climb the stairs, I catch Lottie’s death glare. A chill runs down my spine. I’m curious how that’s gonna play out later.

Jackie storms into one of Lottie’s guest rooms, slams the door behind us, and spins to face me.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Shauna?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Mom?” I shoot back, the alcohol in my blood giving me more courage than sense.

“Stop calling me that!”

“Then stop acting like it!” I snarl. “I’m allowed to have a life outside of you.”

“You kissed her!” she screams, voice cracking. “Again! What the hell are you thinking?!”

“So what?” I throw my hands up. “It’s not like it means anything. It’s just practice anyway.” I say it like a challenge.

Her jaw tightens. “Fuck you, Shauna.”

“Fuck you, Jackie.” I say back in a taunt.

The silence after is sharp and heavy. We stand there, breathing hard, staring each other down.
And then suddenly her mouth is on mine.

There’s nothing soft about it. It’s desperate and hungry. Her hands claw at the back of my neck as she slams me against the door. My back hits with a thud, and her entire body presses into me.

It’s too much and not enough.

I pull back, breathless. “Shouldn’t we tal-”

“Do you want to stop?” she snaps, her voice raw with anger, hurt, something hotter.

“No-” I barely manage.

“Then shut up.”

Ouch. But also, fuck, she’s so hot when she’s angry.

She reaches for the buttons on my flannel. I go to help her, our hands meeting briefly before she slaps them away.

“Don’t fucking touch me Shauna! I don’t need your help!” She practically screams into my mouth, biting my lip so hard I think she might actually draw blood.

I scoff in disbelief and arousal. It feels so agonizingly good I want to cry out.

Before long our tongues are fighting for dominance. Her hands shake as she struggles to unbutton my shirt while our lips are still attached. Frustrated, she grunts and simply yanks it apart, buttons scattering across the hardwood, tiny casualties.

“Fuck,” I gasp. My skin is burning. My underwear’s soaked. I hate how much I love her like this.

She pulls the shirt down my arms and shoves me backwards toward the bed. I fall onto it and try to sit up, but she pushes me back down harshly, straddling my thighs. Her dress hikes up over her hips.

Her underwear is red, lacy, and bikini cut. New.
Did she wear these for Jeff? For me?

She yanks my dress up to my stomach. My hips buck involuntarily and she pins them down roughly.
Her soaked panties slide against my skin as she rocks forward, grinding into me. The wet heat dragging against my bare stomach is electric. My hands fly to her waist, desperate to touch her, but she grabs my wrists and pins them above my head with one hand.

“I said, don’t touch,” she says firmly. Her voice is breathless but commanding. My pulse pounds in my ears and my core.

She reaches down and slides my underwear off in one fluid motion. The next roll of her hips sends a choked moan bursting from my mouth.

Her hand instantly clamps over my mouth. “Shut the fuck up, they’ll hear you.”

She grinds harder into me. Her face contorts with the effort of keeping quiet, biting her lip until a tiny whimper escapes anyway.

“Fuck,” she whispers, long and drawn out.

She pulls me up from my laying position. Our bodies slide together perfectly as she remains straddled on one of my thighs. She pulls me into a desperate kiss as her hands find the back of my neck and tangle in my hair. Our breaths collide, gasping and wild. I lose track of who’s moaning anymore.

She shifts focus to my neck. Bite after bite soothed by her tongue. I yelp when I feel her suck. She does it so hard and so intentionally it’s like she wants everyone to know what went on in this room.

“Jackie-“ I moan out before her hand covers my mouth again, her mouth still skillfully on my neck.

My hips buck into her, matching her rhythm, building. She rides me harder, hips grinding, our bodies slick and hot. Her underwear barely an obstacle in feeling the full heat between us.

“Faster Shauna.” She whines into my mouth, not able to fully kiss me back. Our moans and curses happening in unison.

She rests her forehead against mine. Her eyes shut tightly and her bottom lip between her teeth.

One final thrust and she stiffens. Her cries are muffled as she rests her face in my neck, her whole body shaking before fully collapsing into me.

I can barely breathe as I lay us both back into the pillows. My arms hold her tightly, stroking up and down her back for what feels like hours.

Eventually she lifts herself off of me without a word. Fixing her wild hair and wiping at her swollen lips and flushed face. But her legs are still shaking and her eyes are unnaturally dark, her pupils blown.

“Get up, we’ve been gone too long.” She says without looking at me.

Why do I keep letting her do this to me?

Chapter Text

My knees are still weak. My dress is still high on my thighs. Jackie’s lip gloss is smeared across my mouth like proof.

Jackie approaches quickly, looking through me instead of at me. Her hands reach for my hair and smooth the sides. She does a quick but throughout once over, lowering my dress and wiping her lipstick from my lips.

Her left hand ghosts the mark she left on my neck, placing my hair thoughtfully over the spot.
Her hand lingers and finds my cheek, cupping it softly. My cheek follows her warmth and I let myself lean into the touch.

She finally meets my eyes. She lets me in for a moment and her face holds so much emotion: love, hate, anger, contentment, satisfaction, regret.

And then it's gone. The vulnerability she doesn’t let anyone see. Her hand retracts and her features settle back into that calm and confident girl she always is.

“Let’s go,” she says mildly and unamused, as if we didn’t just fuck like two people trying to fuse at the hips.

We step back into the living room and it’s too bright. Too loud. I’m floating somewhere five feet above my body, and the lights are conspiring against me.

I’m flushed, glowing, pulse still in my throat. Jackie walks ahead of me like she’s not even winded. For a moment I wonder if I had just imagined the defiling of Lottie’s mom’s perfectly fluffed sheets.

I follow her into the living room, still buzzing.

The group’s sprawled on the couch and floor like they live here. Nat’s lying upside down with her legs up the wall. Van’s fiddling with the cassette deck, trying to get it to stop eating her Veruca Salt tape.

“There they are!” Van calls. “Took you guys long enough. We were about to call the FBI.”

“Or Unsolved Mysteries,” Tai adds.

I sit beside her on the carpet, shoulder grazing hers. She leans the other direction, plucking a Twizzler from a bowl like it’s no big deal. I brush her knee with mine. Nothing.

“Had a good talk did we?” Nat adds, tone sharper than the others, a smug look on her face.

“A perfect talk actually Nat. Shauna apologized for her complete irresponsibility and her utter lack of taste,” Jackie says sickly sweet, with a pointed smile directed at Nat.

The room falls silent, everyone somewhat stunned at Jackie’s obvious dig at Nat. Nat, however, seems perfectly content, that smug grin still adorning her features.

Jackie looks around. “Drinking and driving guys.” She laughs innocently.

“Right.” Van says , throwing a knowing look in Nat’s direction.

The chatter resumes.

Nat tosses a sock at me.

“What’s that look?” she gapes.

“What look?”

“That face,” Van says. “You look nauseous."

My ears burn. “I’m fine just-”

“A stomach ache. I can feel it coming on too. I told you we need to stop going to that sketchy Italian place, Van.” Jackie finishes matter of factly, a tight smile on her features.

I lean back on my hands. Jackie’s pinky brushes mine. I wiggle mine, testing her. To see if she’ll just look at me. She flinches, adjusts her position, and suddenly there’s a whole throw pillow between us.

God.

“Who’s up for Mortal Kombat?” Tai asks, plugging up Lottie’s Nintendo.

“I’m not getting beat by Van again,” Mari mutters. “She button mashes like she’s having a seizure.”

“It’s called strategy,” Van says proudly. “Don’t hate the player Mar, just step up your game.”

While the game starts, Jackie stands and disappears into the kitchen. I follow a beat later, pretending to need water.

She’s at the counter, arms leaning on the counter. I find my hand reaching toward hers.

“Can we tal-“ I say just above a whisper.

She steps back, quick to evade my touch.

“Shauna,” she says, voice low but sharp. “Can you just… chill?”

I blink.

“What?”

“Just. Be normal.”

She opens a cabinet like it’s nothing. Like she didn’t just stick a knife in my ribs and twist.

“Jackie-”

She turns, exasperated. “Seriously. We’re around everyone. Act like it.”

I step back.

“Not to mention I’m still so fucking mad at you.” She laughs humorlessly. “Go kiss Natalie again.” She scoffs.

When I just stare back blankly instead of responding she rolls her eyes so hard I think they might get stuck there. She reaches for the corded phone on the wall and dials.

“Hi, Mr. Sadecki? Is Jeff home yet?” She says using her best girl next door voice.

She paces with the curly phone cord wrapped around her finger.

I stand frozen in place.

“Hey, babe,” she coos when Jeff picks up. “Want to come back? We’re just hanging out, playing games. It’s chill. Bring Doritos if your mom has any.”

I walk back into the living room like a balloon someone let go of, quiet and drifting.

“Hey.” Van nudges me. “Everything okay?”

Nat’s watching too.

“Fine,” I lie. I sit cross-legged beside Lottie and stare at the screen, nearly catatonic at this point.
Jackie reenters a minute later and flops dramatically onto the couch.

“Jeff’s coming,” she announces. “I told him to bring Doritos.”

“Oh thank God,” Mari says. “We were running dangerously low on edible snacks. Seriously Lottie can’t you get your mom to buy the non organic stuff for once.”

Everyone laughs.

Jackie stretches her legs out, across the couch and into Tai’s lap. An exaggerated happiness envelopes her.

“Earth to Shauna,” Van says quietly.

I look up.

“You’re like… staring off.”

“Yeah,” Nat adds, “And what’s up with Jackie? She’s acting like way more of a bimbo than usual.”

“She’s being normal,” I say flatly. “So normal.”
I want to scream.

But I don’t. I sit, perfectly still, while Jackie acts like
we’re strangers. Like I imagined all of it. Her teeth on my neck. Her voice in my ear. Her hips on mine.

She tosses her hair and leans back, sighing dreamily. “I think I might tell Jeff I love him this weekend.”

I gulp hard, enough for both Nat and Van to notice.

“Jackie, that's amazing!” Mari responds excitedly like she can’t wait to hear all about it.

Jackie giggles and flips her hair. The two fall into effortless girl talk.

I stand up.

“Where are you going?” Tai asks genuinely.

“Put my feet in the pool,” I look at Jackie, practically begging for her attention, just a look of fucking acknowledgement that I exist. But she doesn’t look. “Or something,” my voice nearly inaudible.

I don’t get far.

I make it about foot onto Lottie’s back porch before I hear the screen door creak open behind me.

“Shauna.”

I turn. Van.

“Hey,” she says, falling into step beside me like this was planned.

Nat’s close behind, lighting a cigarette with that same ratty purple lighter she always loses and then finds again.

“This because of the whole… Jackie turning into a Stepford wife thing?”

“I’m just tired,” I say. Which is almost true. Exhaustion is leaking from every part of me, but not the kind sleep fixes.

Van raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push. “Come sit.”

We make it to the edge of the cement porch. It’s quiet out here, dim porch light, string lights draped over the fence and the pool rippling in the breeze.
We settle onto the deep end of the pool. Our feet all hitting the water at the same time.

Nat flops down and exhales smoke toward the stars. “You ever feel like life is one cosmic joke and you’re the butt of it?”

“All the time, but it’s a good thing I like butts.” Van laughs.

“Cheers.” Nat responds gleefully.

I smile. Barely.

Nat hands me the cigarette and I take a slow drag, just to have something to do with my hands.

Van watches me quietly. “You wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Right,” Nat says. “Just your best friend acting like you don’t exist, right after throwing a public tantrum over something totally normal and friend appropriate.”

I just blink because yeah. Is it that obvious to everyone?

“I’m observant,” she says.

I shrug. “It’s not like we’re… anything. But …” I don’t finish.

Van tilts her head. “It’s the pretending, right? Like, if someone stepped on your foot, and then denied your foot even existed.”

“Exactly,” I say, eyes locked on the pool and the way the string lights dance across its surface. “It’s like… I’m only real when we’re alone.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“She sucks for that,” Nat says. “You know that, right?”

“I don’t think she means to,” I say. “She just… compartmentalizes.”

“That’s not a sexy word,” Van mutters. “That’s a therapy word.”

“She just can’t handle anyone knowing. Not really. And I keep letting her choose Jeff in the daylight and me in the dark.”

They’re quiet again. But it’s not awkward. It’s peaceful and thoughtful.

“You deserve more than that,” Van says. “Someone who doesn’t treat you like you’re something to be ashamed of.”

“I don’t know if I want a label,” I say quickly. “I just want to not feel like a regret.”

Nat passes the cigarette back. “Jackie’s got a habit of choosing whatever makes her look best. You know that.”

“I know.”

“Then stop playing her game Shauna.”

The words hit hard, too real to argue with. I nod, slow. Breathe.

“I don’t want to be anyone’s secret anymore,” I say softly. “Not hers. Not anyone’s.”

Van kicks at a floating leaf in the pool. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Everyone is still hanging out inside, Jackie’s probably curled up on the couch with Jeff by now, eating Doritos and laughing like some suburban tradwife.

I think about how her voice dropped. How she touched me like I was hers. And how less than 10 minutes later she couldn’t put enough space between us.

And then, like a match being struck in my mind, I think of that night. The truth-or-dare game. The kiss. Tonight’s kiss.

Nat, bold and reckless and grinning against my mouth.

I don’t say it out loud. I don’t have to.

Van must see something shift in my face because she nudges me. “Oh shit. What just happened?”

“Nothing,” I say, letting a smile creep onto my lips. “Just… a thought.”

Nat looks over at me, smoke trailing from her lips. “If you’re about to get slutty, I fully support it.”

“Hypothetically,” I say slowly, “what would you do if you wanted to make someone jealous?”

Van leans back. “Is this the part where we pretend it’s not about Jackie, or…”

“Hypothetically,” Nat cuts in, eyes glinting, “I’d kiss someone hotter. Someone she already knows you have a habit of kissing. Maybe someone she already hates a little.”

Van raises her brows. “Shaun, I’m flattered but Tai would beat your ass.”

We all laugh.

But inside, my stomach is settling. My spine straightening. Because suddenly I’m not floating anymore. I’m grounded. I’m focused.

I’m done being Jackie’s secret.

If she wants to play pretend, I can too.

And I know exactly where to start.