Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jecka was sure she was in her living room—yeah, there were a lot more…things… there than usual– but she was in the right place…probably. 

When you’re this fucked up this late (or this early, she didn’t really know anymore), things start to…blur. Times, smells, faces, places– it all gets kinda… mushy. 

The living room seemed mostly the same– except both couches were practically spilling with these stretchy, pulsing, dark, long blobs buzzing conspiratorially amongst themselves.

Jecka frowned. Whatever they were, they’d probably be gone in the morning.

As she slipped toward the stairs, the blobs' heads (heads?) snapped toward her as if called. Before Jecka could yell, they did.

‘Surprise!’ 

Jecka blinked, and blinked and blinked. 

So they were people, she could be sure of that, couldn’t she? But now she had to ask— who were they?— and why the fuck were there so many of them?

“Jessica, welcome home,” started Dad’s disembodied voice. He was using that tone. The ‘TV Dad’ tone he’d play on ‘good days’ like an entire divorce’s worth of rage wasn’t loudly boiling in his throat. “You’re back a whole 3 hours late, Jessica! What were you doing?” 

“Sorry, I’m back…late…” Jecka murmured, slurring long and syrupy, “someone put…welcome to the black parade on the store playlist, and some freak tried impaling himself with the Disney isle's clothing rod. So like… what’s going on here? Somebody die?”

“No– we’re just here to talk to you, is all,” a large, knowing hand gripped Jecka’s wrist, a firmness that told her she had no choice but to obey. “Come on, sweetie, sit down,” Dad managed.

“Right…”

When her Dad forced her onto the only empty couch, some of the figures began to take shape– their dark shrouds melting into something more…human.

After some time, faces began to form, and the first she recognised was— “Megan! Get the fuck out of my house!”

Megan began to take shape–  sitting as straight as she would on one of the stools in science class despite being on a couch, arms folded in a prissy little ‘I had a purity ring before the Jonas brothers did’ way. “That’s no way to speak to me, Jecka. I’m your guest!” she sneered.

“Yeah, and now I’m kicking you out so—”

“Jessica!” Dad roared. He drew a sharp breath. Jecka jolted. 

A woman’s voice cracked in “Excuse me!” 

An assertive depth, a commanding rasp. The distinctly teacher-ish sort of voice that school worked you like a goddamn house pet to pay attention to.

The room was silent.

“Sit down, everyone. We’re here to help Jessica, aren’t we?”

The human-ish blobs murmured something like agreement. 

Jecka furrowed her brow, “Help me?”

The woman smiled, “Yes, help you.” Her lipstick was red.

“What? Like rehab?”

Finally, Jecka got a good look at her. Her figure was first to take shape, an hourglass body practically pinched by a pepto-pink suit and pencil skirt. If her cleavage was less…spilling… she might look like one of those ‘power suit’ Moms from TV– she had the slick-shiny bun–  the pointy headmaster’s glasses and terminally serious tone. 

“Yes, think of it like rehab, Jessica, an intervention of sorts."

Dad cleared his throat, “Jessica, we’re intervening because—” he made a sweeping gesture around the room, “we have noticed some…concerning behaviour from you.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Jecka sighed. Could nobody see how high she was? “I’m like… fucked up.”

“Admitting you have a problem is a great first step,” the woman praised, writing something on a small clip-board.

“I just think you've been influenced by an unnatural way of thinking…" sighed Dad, "Look, what I’m saying is... do you remember that t.A.T.u. poster your Mom bought you? Well, I...well...”

Jecka blinked, “Huh?”

“Don't worry, I’ll take it from here,” The woman nodded, “So Jessica, my name is Lynda Lynn (A name that made Jecka imagine asking, "How's Lois Lane? "), and I’m here because we’ve all got some concerns. We believe you've been displaying some homosexual tendencies, and we’re here to help.”

“...What?”

“Your family and peers have noticed some ‘behaviours’ from you that lead us to believe you’re a lesbian. I work for an organisation known as ‘True Directions,’ think of it like homosexual rehab– or a school if that makes you more comfortable–” It did not. “At true directions we take homosexuals like yourself and…straighten them out, make them upstanding members of society. Learn the reasons behind your attractions and how to heal them.”

“So you’re like,” Jecka paused, swearing her brain was dripping from her ears, “From what? The Westboro Baptist Church? Can’t you just put me in normal rehab? I’m literally not even—”

“I found this in your room, Jecka,” sighed Dad, unrolling a large t.A.T.u. poster. It was the one with Julia and Lena, arms crossed, faces bursting with attitude, wearing white shirts with patterned underwear. Back when Mom was slightly sober (between her first and second heroin stint), she’d picked it up on the way back from work after Jecka had squealed about how cool they were at the VMAs. “This just isn’t appropriate…” Dad grumbled.

“I’ve had that since like…2003, and I'm not even— I mean— they’re not even real lesbians—""

Miss Lynn shook her head, “It’s gay iconography, Jessica.”

“No, they’re like Russian…”

“Russians can also struggle with homosexuality. It's more common than you might think,” hummed Miss Lynn, “Remember, the Russians did win last year’s Eurovision…”

“That’s not what I–"

Megan stood, “Eh-hem. Jecka, you keep this in your locker!” She held a crumpled Jennifer's body poster with the local cinema’s logo in the corner, making damn sure the entire room could see it, holding it high like some prize, “There are like, no pictures of guys in there, just Hayley Williams magazine pages and stuff from Megan Fox movies.”

“And I’ll fucking put it back in my locker!” When Jecka tried to stand, her knees buckled, sending her sinking back into the couch like a stone, “How the fuck did you even get that?!”

“Sexual imagery,” hummed Miss Lynn, writing something down.

"I'm your class president, Jecka. You should show me some more respect."

Then came Kelly,  “Look, Jecka, I really think that most of all you need someone to talk to– I mean, you’re always turning down really hot guys and stuff, it’s just sad to see you that way…”

“Since when were you two even homophobic?"

Kelly smirked, “I’m now in a relationship with Jesus and God– changed a lot since you last saw me, huh?”

“Last time I saw you, you were literally in sex addict rehab because you wanted to fuck your cousin.”

“Jessica!” Growled Dad.

“Jessica!” hissed Miss Lynn through gritted teeth, “That is extremely inappropriate! Her therapy is not yours to discuss!”

“What the hell?” Kelly screeched, “What the fuck is your problem?!”

“That’s horrible!” Megan yelled, tugging Kelly toward the front door, “Don’t listen to her, remember your affirmations! Jecka, you'd better apologise!”

In your fucking dreams. 

Jecka swore she heard the mantra ‘my cousin is not hot’ being chanted outside.

I'm too high for this shit— or maybe not high enough. Whatever.

Dad’s breath came in huffs– heavy, chesty breaths he’d take when he was just about to scream about how bad his heart was getting and how Jecka was gonna kill him someday.

“Thank you to…Kelly…” murmured Miss Lynn, “this is exactly why we staged this intervention. This attitude is simply unbecoming of a young lady. So, moving on, we have—”

“Um, Miss Lynn! I have something to add, if that’s alright,” a snorty sort of voice peeped.

“He’s here?” Jecka hissed. Packing up and leaving looked really good right now– that way, Jeffery wouldn’t know where she lived.

Miss Lynn sighed, adjusting her glasses, tapping her pen against her clipboard, “Yes, Jeffery? What is it that you’d like us to add?”

Jeffery made a snorty sort of noise, “Yes, well, I’d like to add two incidents of my own that have led me to believe Jecka here may be a… homosexual.”

“Oh my God..." Jecka winced.

“Yeah, so one day I was showing her one of my manga books in civics class. It’s a pretty niche one so I’m not sure if anyone here would have um… heard of it… but it goes by the name of ‘K- Kiss X Sis,’ it’s the story of two really really, really–” he began to heave, “rrreally, adorable girls called—”

Miss Lynn clicked her tongue, “Please spare us the details, Jeffery. We’re on a pretty tight schedule. Just say what you told me earlier.”

“Oh– oh! Of course Miss Lynn… so uh essentially Jecka was…looking at the pages a lot when I was reading it– she wasn’t talking to me either, just glancing at it now and then…like she was too distracted by the g- g- girls…to speak to me…everyone gets that way sometimes but…” 

“I stared because I couldn’t fucking believe you were reading porn in civics!”

"Jessica! Language!" spat Dad.

Jeffery blushed, scratching the back of his neck in a cartoonishly sheepish ‘No I didn’t steal from the cookie jar’ way that made Jecka roll her eyes so hard she swore they might just lob out.

“It’s not pornographic! It’s extremely wholesome!”

Miss Lynn cleared her throat, “Is that all, Jeffery?”

“Oh no! I have one more thing.”

“...Go on.”

“Uh, so my second reason is that– Jecka once told me…after I…” his voice began to quiver, “–worked up the courage to ask her to hang out with me after school…that she wouldn’t even…have sex with me if I was the last man on earth. Now I’m sure that this means she’s either a huge liar or—” he adjusted his glasses, “or a lesbian."

The room was silent.

“Jeffery…how does not wanting to...have sex with you... make me a lesbian?"

“Because, notice how you said that you wouldn’t have sex with me if I were the last guy on earth. That’s hugely impractical. Every human wants to keep the human race going, and the fact that you’d choose ending humanity over heterosexual reproduction means you’re probably gay.”

Jecka almost choked.

“Thank you, Jeffery,” murmured Miss Lynn.

“You’re welcome, Miss Lynn!” he chirped.

“Now Jecka, I’m sure you’re rather overwhelmed. I see you’re still in denial, and I want you to know that this is natural. I see it in most patients, and we’re going to explore this denial at True Directions." Her voice was almost sterile— like how ghosts talk in movies. Too welcoming— warning enough for Jecka to decide that she was not going in any 'True Direction' any time soon.

“You’ll realise the truth soon, Jecka! Don’t even worry!” Squeaked Jeffery, extending a bony thumbs up toward her.

Jecka’s dad cleared his throat, straining a smile, “Think of it as lesbian rehab, sweetie. Homosexuals Anonymous.”

"You can't seriously just send me to some 'pray the gay away' camp! I'm seriously not—"

True directions was a screaming match with dad, a pink bus, and a highway away.

For some reason, she’d envisioned being smuggled in a trunk across state lines to some asscrack southern town famous for being Habsburg jaw ground zero and world's largest ball of yarn. But no, True Directions was just north– an hour away. Pretty odd when basically everyone you knew swore they voted for Obama. 

Did gay people go through this a lot? She wasn't exactly straight— nobody really was, according to an article she'd read before…but she certainly wasn't a lesbian so all of this— the intervention, this gay camp 'True Directions' thing— was just unnecessary. I just need help— any help. She patted her bra, feeling the cig and lighter she’d slipped in whilst packing and let her eyelids sink. Maybe this is fine.

“We’re here!” Miss Lynn yelled sometime later, taking a handful of Jecka’s shoulder and shaking her like she owed her money.

With a yelp, Jecka jerked out of groggy, not-quite-awake and not-quite asleep.

As she stepped off the bus, a quaintly pink and white wooden colonial-style house that looked like it could neighbour Kent farm and the smell of wet earth greeted her.

Jecka bit her tongue.

“I’ll take this one,”  smiled Miss Lynn, handling one of Jecka’s suitcases, “Now follow me inside– the others are waiting for you.”

As she followed, struggling with her suitcase up the path, she glanced behind her. The bus revved and began driving straight on– away, away, away until it became a pink dot on the horizon– a sick blister against the greenery.

Chapter Text

“ –then, maybe I’ll let you live with Mom, how about that?”

Jecka pressed the landline’s receiver to her cheek, the vibrations of Dad’s words slithering up her face, tickling her mouth.

“Jessica? You’re still there, aren’t you?”

She pressed the transmitter to her lips, swallowing, “If you say so.”

Dad drew a sharp breath, “Perfect– now who’s Daddy’s little girl?"

She stared across the office to Miss Lynn, who sat at her desk, arms crossed, studying Jecka through black cat-eye frames and thick, scrutinising lenses.

“...I am.”

“What are you?” Dad cooed in the same stupid-low tone dog owners and toddler parents put on when they cuddle their 'good boy'.

Jecka scrunched her eyes shut, “...I’m Daddy’s little girl.”

“Wonderful! I’ll be seeing you in what? Two months?”

“…yep.”

“And I trust you’ll be coming back a little more…straightened out– like when you were little, won’t you? I can’t send you to your mother if you’re not."

The urge to say– ‘Why not? It’s not like Mom cares about that sort of thing...’ pressed her tongue with an anchor’s force– but then Miss Lynn stood mouthing, “You should start wrapping things up now, alright?” 

Jecka nodded.

“Um, Dad…I…gotta go now."

“Oh, right. Well, I’ll see you again on family therapy day– I trust you’ll have made some amazing progress by then! I love you, honey!”

Jecka passed the handset back to Miss Lynn, who snatched it with all the force of a parent confiscating a misbehaving child’s toy before placing it on the receiver. Beep.

“Is there anyone else you need to call? What about your workplace?”

“Oh no, I—” got fired like a month ago, ”– I’ve already called them”

“That’s great,” Miss Lynn smiled, guiding Jecka toward the club chair opposite her side of the desk.

Jecka sat, sinking into the plush, and allowed a moment to shut her eyes. Miss Lynn's office must’ve been one of the worst places to be hungover– if not the worst.  The cleaner-lime walls and lemon celing seemed to seep past her eyelids, invading her like the sick sting of bleach in the back of your nose, or the thick cough of dusty velvet. To the left and right of Miss Lynn's desk were two tall (also lime) bookcases filled with long silver, strange twisty ornaments that beamed sorely against the slip of sunlight the green sheer curtains filtered them. Some of them looked like symbols, stars, snake-like coils, arrows— the sort of creepy shit you'd call Sam and Dean about. Where'd she even…find those?

“Remind me where you work again?” smiled Miss Lynn, wheeling in her towering leather executive chair.

“Uh…” Jecka strained, “Hot topic,” for some reason almost saying ‘American Eagle'— as if she’d ever work there.

“I’ve heard of that one,” Miss Lynn hummed, “Do you enjoy your work at Hot Topic, Jessica?”

“I mean like… I manage.”

Miss Lynn quirked a brow, “Ah, a managerial role. I'm sure that's quite the responsibility.”

“No like– I manage as in… I do enough.”

“Oh, I see,” Miss Lynn adjusted her glasses, “Well, I trust you take your job extremely seriously.”

What are we talking about again?

“Anyway, it’s time we got to business.”

Oh yeah— ”””buisness.””””

“True Directions is a 2-month program that relies on 5 very simple steps– but I’m sure you read that on the leaflet, didn’t you, Jessica?”

“Leaflet?”

“Oh, I suppose your father forgot to give one to you.” Miss Lynn slipped a leaflet from her desk drawer and slid it across the desk toward Jecka, “Here.”

‘TRUE DIRECTION. IN 2006, EMILY WAS A NORMAL, ALL-AMERICAN GIRL. BY 2007, THE HOMOSEXUAL AGENDA HAD ITS ROOTS WITHIN HER’, screeched the leaflet, its scrawl similar to an old horror movie logo– complete with splatters to dot the ‘i’s and slashes to cross the ‘t’s. If it wasn’t stamped at the corner with the clean, pink and blue ‘true directions’ logo, Jecka would’ve sworn it could've been one of those things Dad called devil worship when she was a kid (or as he liked to call it 'when this country had any sense').

Imagine it– INNOCENT GIRL MANIPULATED INTO GAY SATANISM BY JAY GAY ROWLING FROM HOMO POTTER AND BOARD GAME— DUNGEONS AND DYKES. (A title straight out of some obscure crack of RedTube.)

Below the title was a picture of two girls– a sort of ‘before vs after’ comparison, but without a makeover from Jenny Mai.

To the left was a blurred, party-bleached flash photo of a beaming ice-blonde, her hair thickly chopped into the long-banged, layered scene kid cut. A riot of facial piercings blinked in the flash, and her eyes— circled a black hole of eyeliner appeared as if sinking into a heavy abyss. Sort of like that 'eye mask' makeup Gerard Way did to piss off Marilyn Manson.

‘In July of 2007, the homosexual lifestyle took her.’

‘We never imagined something like this could happen to our girl…' says her Mom 'First came the piercings…then the drugs, and then she brought home this absolute… bulldog of a woman.’

Jecka hummed. Maybe snakebites were the real gateway drug all along.

To the right was also Emily, but this time, a plain-faced, sandy-blonde Emily with hair that barely passed her shoulders. She wore a fuchsia-pink apron sprinkled with white polka dots and smiled the gentle, barefaced beam of someone who’d never heard of Tumblr– of someone who'd call lipstick and blush ‘rouge.'

The words, ‘Nobody, not even Emily, would’ve guessed what would happen to her. She grew up being mommy’s little helper, dreaming of being a housewife, a straight-A student, and a runner-up for prom queen. She grew up just like you— dreaming of that car, that house, that man,’ were scribed beneath the image in crisp white Baskerville. ‘True directions helped Emily rediscover her femininity– sending her toward her true direction.’

The other side was the same, a decision that struck Jecka as sorta poor design…

“It’s quite the story, isn’t it?" said Miss Lynn.

“I mean..she looked pretty... crazy,” murmured Jecka.

“How does it make you feel, Jessica?”

“…Ready to leave…"

Miss Lynn pursed her lips, “Jessica. To get through this program, we’re going to need you as much as you need us. I hope that, with the others’ support, you can stay motivated,” she smiled with a scalding warmth that made Jecka wince, “You’re going to have to promise to try. You have a mother and a father relying on your success."

You mean a father’s wallet relying on my success and a mother who knows literally nothing.

“I mean…” Jecka lowered her eyes, “I dunno…"

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that and give you another chance to cleanly agree. Your parents put in good money—"

“I promise.”

“Right, then why don’t we focus on the first step? Admitting you have a problem. You did seem quite insistent that you weren’t a homosexual earlier despite the mounting counter-evidence."

“Well, yeah, that’s because I’m not a—”

“Well, why don’t we think of things this way?” Miss Lynn inched forward, Jecka inched back, “Your father said you enjoyed Jennifer’s Body– the movie, didn’t he?

“Um…yeah?"

“Well…when you watched the movie, or perhaps looked at the poster of it you kept in your locker…how did it make you feel?”

Jecka furrowed her brow, “How is this supposed to prove that I’m gay?”

“Just give the exercise. Close your eyes, think of the movie– of Megan Fox, of Amanda Seyfried… just everything you like about them…”

With some effort, Jecka closed her eyes.

“Now, are you thinking about them?”

Jecka nodded.

“What do you see?”

“Like...my poster?”

“And how is your poster making you feel?”

“...I dunno.”

“Do you perhaps find the image of Megan Fox…sexually appealing?”

Jecka’s eyes practically burst open, “Gross! You’re like fifty!”

“I’m choosing to ignore that comment. Let me try to put things more…lightly.” Miss Lynn frowned, adjusting her glasses, “Have you ever thought Megan Fox, or any other actress, to be…let’s say, physically attractive?”

Jecka bit her tongue, “I mean, I think Megan Fox is hot as much as the next person, but—”

“A-ha!”

“…A-ha?” 

 Miss Lynn clicked her tongue, “and you don’t even think that it’s wrong.“

“...Think what’s wrong?”

Miss Lynn smirked, red lips smouldering into a sly curl as if she’d just uncovered some great mystery or won big.

“Oh, you mean like…thinking she’s hot.”

“Until you come to terms with your sickness, you’re going to have to wear these,” from the desk’s right drawer, Miss Lynn took a strait-jacket-grey, cotton-specked fold and placed it onto the table, “You’ll earn your right to civies once you’ve completed your first step.”

“C– Civies?” A word Jecka only ever heard in jailbreak movies.

Jecka lifted the fabric, revealing a long, drab hospital gown.

“I trust you’ll give it your all. Now, I’d like you to meet one of your fellow students– Ari!”

The office door clicked, then creaked open.

A redhead– hair in a tousled bob with bangs that reached her eyebrows stood in the doorframe. So slim, tall, and slouched that she appeared almost all arms and legs. Her dark pink skirt hung just above her knees, and her light pink shirt was buttoned to the top.

"Yes, Miss Lynn?” She asked, tucking her hair behind her ear, revealing a silver earring.

“This here is Ari, she’s volunteered to give you a tour."

As they strolled along the deck, Jecka bundled her hospital gown together like a blanket. The sky was smoky grey, and the fields toward the horizon were a sanded yellow– a real chill having just come out of such a muggy, oven of an office.

"So we all wake up at like…7:00 every day."

Ari's hair was even redder in the white natural light— even redder than Miss Lynn's lipstick. And yet, as she guided Jecka around the camp, her words wobbled and she'd glance behind her again, again and again as if she feared Jecka was going to vanish.

"Oh my God, 7:00?" Jecka hissed.

"Um, yeah," Ari winced.

Jecka made a wry face.

"Okay…anyway," Ari swallowed, "after that we have breakfast at 8:00 and group therapy is in the 'big room,' until lunchtime."

Jecka clicked her tongue.

"Do you know where the big room is?" Ari breathed, "Just wondering because you didn't… ask and all, Jessica…"

"It's Jecka, actually."

"What? Is that like, a different pronunciation or…?"

"What?!"

"Like…um…Jessica could be spelt like Jessica— but it's actually pronounced—"

"No, I get what you're saying— I just don't get why you're asking it. Who the fuck names their kid Jecka? Of course it's a nickname."

"…Hippies?" Ari stammered.

"Don't call me that!"

"Okay jeez…" after a few moments and a few deep breaths, she continued, "so do you know where the big room is or not?"

"I'll find it when I need to."

"Okay…" Ari grimaced, stopping by a door, "Anyway, here's the dorms, this is where we sleep," she let Jecka in first.

"Ew…" Jecka murmured, glancing around.

The dormitory felt like stepping into the garish 'before' of the makeover show– what one of those TV designers would call 'Maximalist.'

Flamingo-pink gloss-painted walls. Light and dark pink checkered ceiling. 6 beds sheened with pink plastic wrap comforters that flared in the sunlight with pillows so stone-still it was as if they hadn't been touched in an aeon. As Jecka stepped in, she was sure to tred lightly as the carpet was thick with dust– practically itching to cough up a cloud of it.

"Yeah, it's…a lot…" Ari murmured, "but the beds are pretty comfy!"

"Oh I'm sure…" Jecka frowned.

"Anyway, this room has three rules: keep the place tidy so like do your bed and stuff, lights out at 9:00pm and no inappropriate behaviour."

"Inappropriate how?"

The door swung open, and two girls shoved past– a brunette in a ponytail and a blonde with layers.

"Innapropriate like fucking," the brunette shot.

"Yeah Ari, you can just say it you know," spat the blonde, sulking onto the bed nearest the window.

"Oh um, hey Nicole," Ari murmured, voice drawing near a whisper, "and Emily."

The brunette sprawled herself onto the bed furthest from the window, feeling through her skirt pocket. Her pink shirt was untucked and her skirt short enough for Jecka to assume it'd been folded at the waist. Her white socks were folded to her ankles, cuffing just over a pair of greyed black converse.

"So this is Nicole… she also goes here…" Ari muttered, head slightly bowed so that her bangs covered her eyes.

Wow, it's not like the uniform gave it away.

The blonde lay on her side, facing away from Jecka. From what she could see, her uniform was pretty much the same as Nicole's— cuffed and folded in all of the same places— the only major difference was her shoe choice, some simple, decently-worn black and white vans.

"…And that's Emily."

Emily?

Emily?!

"Wait, what?" Jecka hesitated.

Emily glanced over her shoulder, "What?" she muttered, voice raspy in a 'I watch too much reality TV' way rather than a ‘2 packs a day’ way.

Jecka squinted, getting a better read of the girl's face and almost immediately catching her familiar pinchy nose and distinctly wide blue eyes. The girl from the leaflet.

"What?" Emily pressed.

"It's… not important," Jecka faltered, figuring it'd be best dealt with another time.

Emily smirked and turned back around.

Nicole took a packet of cigarettes from her right pocket, then reached into the left— presumably for a lighter.

"So yeah, let's head to the next room…" Ari sighed.

Only when they were both back on the deck and the door was shut did Ari speak again, "So yeah, they're Nicole and Emily. They're usually...fine."

"…Sure."

"Okay, so last of all we've got–" she gestured toward a large pink chart listing a column of seven names next to a 5 columns, "–our charts." Ari pointed at the first row, running her finger down the list of black ticks until she found two empty boxes, namely, 'Jecka' and 'Kelly' "Step one is admitting you're a homosexual, and we all— well apart from you and Kelly— completed that yesterday." Ari drew in a sharp breath before taking one bold step toward Jecka, "I'm a homosexual," she declared, "It's pretty easy once you've done it before."

"Um okay," Jecka swallowed, taking a step away.

"Anyway, this girl Kelly—" she pointed at Kelly's name, "Miss Lynn told me she's due tomorrow, and you're both gonna do your first disclosure together. Transport issues, I guess. This place is sorta in the middle of nowhere."

"We're literally in NoVA, not 'the middle of nowhere'– also…what do you mean, 'disclosure'?"

"No."

It seemed Jecka wasn't the only one who thought the back of the camp, away from Miss Lynn's room, would be a good smoke-spot.

"What?"

Nicole turned to Jecka, "I stole these with my own fucking money," she snapped, white smoke snaking from her lips and from her nostrils.

Jecka shuddered in her hospital gown– cursing those midnight nicotine cravings. The October night seemed to bite harder here– like the open air gave it more room to bare its teeth.

"Your…oh! I don't want your cigs. I've got my own."

"Oh," hummed Nicole, taking a drag.

Jecka smirked, holding her Marlboro pack for Nicole to see in the porch light.

"Marlboro…" Nicole muttered, tapping some ash over the deck railing, "Where was that? Your strait-jacket has pockets?"

"Nope, bra."

"I guess you haven't met the counsellor yet," she seemed to spit the word— counsellor– like a bad taste.

"What do you mean?" Jecka asked, lighting her cigarette.

"He's a pedophile."

"Oh… ew. How'd you know?"

"Why else would a grown man want to work at a place like this?"

Jecka took a drag, "Maybe he's just like…super religious or something, I dunno."

"Priests fuck kids all of the time– being religious doesn't make you not a pedophile— statistically it probably makes you more of one."

"But like…how'd you know he's a pedophile? Was there like…an incident or…?"

Nicole sighed, "He managed to convince Miss Lynn that he should be able to give everyone pat-downs before they come in for like…security reasons and stuff— aka, he wants to grope teenagers."

"God."

"Yeah," Nicole took a drag, "I guess he's not into blonde Brandy employees."

Jecka rolled her eyes, "My mom works corporate for department stores, so I get all the expensive stuff for free, but trust me— I don't give a fuck."

Nicole stared at Jecka, lips quirking as if she were about to laugh. Instead, she took another drag.

"So are you the Jessica or Kelly?"

"Neither, it's Jecka."

"Is that short for Jessica?"

"Duh, but Jessica's like, the most married at 20 name ever."

Nicole smirked, "That's pretty punk rock for someone so..."

Jecka smirked back, tapping ash over the railing.

Nicole cleared her throat, "Anyway, Jecka, what're you in for?"

"Oh, everyone in my life thinks I'm a lesbian."

"Thinks?"

"Yeah, but I'm pretty straight."

"What?" Nicole snickered, "You got a boyfriend?"

"No, but I—"

"Right, and no girlfriends?"

"I'm straight."

"Okay…party kisses?"

"Why do you care?" Jecka glared, "fuck, I'm cold," she shuddered.

"Well, there's gotta be some reason you got sent here."

Jecka pursed her lips, "I mean, I've had a couple party kisses with girls— but that's just sorta what you do at parties."

"What? For the guys watching?"

"I guess."

"And you've… never thought it was hot?"

"Duh, I have— but that's literally the point."

Nicole raised her eyebrows, humming.

"What?" Jecka challenged.

"Nothing. Have fun at your disclosure tomorrow."

Her words held a certain venom— like the ‘fun’ part wasn’t meant for Jecka.

After a second cigarette, Jecka went to bed— still somehow craving nicotine. She woke up just the same. The heavy itch in the back of her throat, buzzing between her forehead's skin and skull.