Chapter Text
mother effing yellowjackets
3:12 pm
mari
so i got to the locker room early cause i wanted to shower before practice and natalie was laying on one of the benches with her head in lottie’s lap?????????? what is going on
like there was tension in that room am i losing it
van
oh you sweet summer child
Taissa
Do we have to do this again?
van
sweet precious new member of the varsity team: get used to it
lottie
we were listening to the new boygenius album what is the problem????
Taissa
Oh jesus christ.
van
NOT HELPING YOUR CASE LMAAAOOOO
mari
and why were YOU listening to the sad lesbian music???? 🤨🤨🤨🤨
lottie
music doesn’t have a sexuality???? also nat was sleepy. what is the issue
mari
THIS is what i have to get used to???????
lottie
what is the problem??
van
yep.
Taissa
Yes.
.
It wasn’t like the entirety of Wiskayok High School rejected Lottie Matthews when she moved from wherever-the-fuck rich town in the mountains, but… okay, maybe it was a little like that. Nat wasn’t sure why, she didn’t see how Lottie was any different from Jackie Taylor, but then again, she tried to stay away from everyone as much as possible, so she didn’t really know much about anybody. That was how she liked it.
She liked walking to school alone, hunched in on herself as the wind got colder with every passing day. She liked roaming the halls alone, with only the occasional eye falling astray to watch her as she stomped along the dirty tiles of Wiskayok High. Most of those stray eyes were jocks staring at her ass in yesterday’s pants, anyway, which is fucking gross, so she tunes all of it out.
She might have her earbuds in at all times, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t notice footsteps behind her that October. Being completely baked by fourth period does not mean that she doesn’t notice the second shadow following her to the bathroom. She does think it's a gigantic lizard-beast coming to challenge her to a duel, but then she gets inside the bathroom and sees a very much not scaly, not green girl standing behind her.
A not-lizard girl with dark hair, deep, searching eyes, and a pink skirt on. A girl who looks like she is coming to the realization that she is very much caught.
She whirls around to face this new girl, common sense clouded by the weed Nat is quick to anger, and she considers just straight punching her, but before she can even ask What the fuck do you want –
“I’m Lottie. And you’re Natalie Scatorccio. And I’m Lottie. Matthews. Well, technically I’m Charlotte Matthews, but everyone calls me Lottie.” The girl frowns. “Well. I like to be called Lottie.”
Too high and confused to make any sense of her words, but soothed enough to not be inclined to hit this Lottie anymore, Nat crosses her arms over her chest. “And?”
“And… I don’t have any friends here, and, no offense, but you don’t really seem to have any friends, either… So I guess I thought maybe we should form an alliance?”
She laughs. It’s rude, but she’s too high to do the polite thing and resist straight up laughing at this new girl who's just asked Nat to be her friend.
“Yeah, no.” Nat puts a hand on Lottie’s shoulder, annoyed by how far she has to reach to do it. “Sorry, Charlotte Matthews, you’ll probably understand it a little better once you’ve been here a little longer, but I don’t do ‘friends’.”
“Everybody does friends ,” Charlotte Matthews protests, following Nat back out into the hallway, which is clearing out as the warning bell rings.
“Nope.” Nat keeps walking. A lizard creature shadow slides back behind her. “And stop following me. Following me is not going to make you the type of friends you can take back to your house with your closet full of skirts just like that in all different colors.”
She keeps walking, and the lizard creature gets smaller. Good .
When she thinks back on that day–which is not often. Only like once a month. Or maybe once a week. A day. Maybe several times a day. Whenever she walks past Jackie Taylor, forever adorned with Shauna Shipman at her shoulder, now with a dull-eyed Lottie Matthews walking heavily at her side.
Sometimes Lottie looks at her with what might be regret, and then Nat thinks about how the lizard thing got smaller and smaller in the hallway, and then she heard a soft, sad, “I only have one of this skirt,” and it was the first thing that had actually made her smile all month.
She doesn’t face Lottie when she smiles. It’s for the better. She wouldn’t want to give Lottie false hope.
.
She meant what she said that day, even if it was a little overly angsty or dramatic. She doesn’t have any friends, and she doesn’t want any. After her Dad died, nobody really wanted to be her friend, and Kevyn Tan wasn’t hard to get away from after he heard what happened after he left Nat’s house that day. At first it’s lonely, but Nat decides that she likes the solitary life. If nobody’s close to her, nobody can hurt her. She couldn’t care less about the strangers she shares classes with, couldn’t give less of a shit if Jackie Taylor thinks she’s a slut, or whatever the rumor of the week is.
Yet, she sees another shadow following her the next week after homeroom. Nat lets it be for a while, just watching it, noticing now, sober, that it doesn’t really look like a lizard monster at all, she’s just a tall girl. Then she rounds a corner, and really, she’s still here? Following Nat around like she’s her fucking babysitter?
“Fuck off, Matthews.”
Lottie promptly makes a hard right into a classroom, calling, “Bye Nat!” as she walks into the room that was apparently her final destination.
She chooses to believe that Lottie was, in fact, following her and that she just so happened to speak up about it at the same time that Lottie reached her classroom. The other option, that Lottie was just walking where she needed to get and Natalie happened to be in front of her, and then Nat yelled at her to go away? That is embarrassing as shit. She doesn’t need that on her conscience.
She feels brown eyes in a short skirt on her as she walks away, and she feels mollified.
.
mother effing yellowjackets
12:38 pm
shauna
why is womens soccer so queer
like the whole national team. gay asf
i dont mean it like its a bad thing, but like, just curious
van
idk but me personally i am committed to keeping soccer gay
nat
keep soccer gay 2k23
lottie
i would sign that petition
Taissa
Lottie you would sign any petition if it was Nat handing it to you.
shauna
😳😳😳😳
mari
while we're on the topic. are they dating or???
van
who nat and lottie?
mari
who else
van
old news
unfortunately as they would tell it no
lottie
nooo we’re just friends
nat
naw
why does everyone think that
lottie
for real
every new varsity member always thinks we’re dating. like. we are literally just friends who both play soccer
van
will lottie and nat ever escape the lovers allegations? truly who can say
lottie
we WILL
nat
stfu van nobody cares
van
hmm
whats that shakespeare quote?? the one. the relevant one
crystal
the lady doth protest too much
van
THATS THE BITCH
nat
well jokes on you i dont know what that means so you cant burn me
lottie
it means that someone is denying something a suspicious amount!! hope that helps :))
jackie
yeah theyre never escaping those allegations
.
Fucking Lottie Matthews. She should have known that Charlotte Matthews would have something to do with this.
First of all, her perfectly good nap in second period was ruined when her name was called over the intercom, summoning her to the principal's office. Second of all, she was summoned to the fucking principals office. What the fuck? What’d they do, find the weed in her locker? She’s usually very careful to keep it all on her person, Natalie knows the snitches they call students at this school would rat her out in a heartbeat. Wiskayok High’s very male principal is more than willing to go through any locker for any reason at any given time, but patting down a female student? Not so much.
Regardless, Natalie stumbles her way to the principal's office, still wiping sleep out of her eyes and wondering how old the weed they found is for her to have left in her locker. (It has to be weed. She's been very careful about leaving anything more intense than weed at home. Weed will get her a slap on the wrist, maybe some detention, but it's nothing new. They can't have found anything worse, right?)
She bursts into the office, fumbling for an explanation (Randy Walsh planted the weed in her locker because Natalie refused to sleep with him. That’s believable, right?) only to find absolutely zero weed, and one Charlotte Matthews smiling way too much for nine in the morning.
“Morning, Nat!” she chirps, smirking. “Good to see you again.”
Natalie scowls. “Hey, Lottie. Good to see you, too.”
Principal Johnson actually smiles at Natalie, which is really fucking unusual. “Good morning, Miss Scatorccio. Please, have a seat.” He gestures to the empty seat beside Lottie.
Looking at Lottie and Principal Johnson and unable to find anything but genuine smiles, she slinks into the seat.
“Miss Scatorccio, I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here. And, for once, I can assure you, you aren’t in trouble.”
Natalie raises an eyebrow. She and Principal Johnson have spent lots of time together, most of it him chewing her out and telling her that all the drugs and alcohol are “Bad for her future”. Like she has one of those.
“This is actually about Miss Matthews. Miss Matthews has been having some trouble adjusting, and so we were thinking about giving a new system a try. Miss Scatorccio, you’ve been at our school district since kindergarten. You know your way around this building, you know our teachers, our students. You have all of the, ah, student inside information. We were thinking you could spend some time with Miss Matthews, show her the ropes, as it were.”
Strange. He’s being unusually gentle to Natalie.
“And, Miss Scatorccio, let’s face it, you could use the involvement.”
There it is.
Natalie rolls her eyes, shifting in her chair to get up.
“There was one other thing, right, Principal Johnson?”
He looks at Lottie and smiles appeasingly. “Ah. Right, yes, of course. We would give you and Miss Matthews one additional period a day to yourselves. Provided you work it out with our counselors to still meet your graduation requirements, you would have an additional study hall to pass on your wisdom to Miss Matthews.”
What does he expect Nat to do, teach Lottie how to roll a blunt?
Still. More time out of class. Nat looks at Lottie. She’s smirking, only showing a little bit of an ulterior motive. Nat sighs.
“Fine. I’ll show her the ropes, or whatever.”
Lottie breaks out into a smile. A much wider one than Nat’s ever seen on her lips before, and she’s surprised by the effect it has on her. Principal Johnson’s words travel through water before they reach Natalie’s ears, she’s too focused on Lottie’s wonderful smile, at the laugh tinkling out of her mouth at the stupid look on Nat’s face.
She only recovers when Lottie schools her expression and she hears the tail-end of Principal Johnson telling them to go back to class.
Lottie leaves first, shooting a smirk over her shoulder at Natalie.
She sits slumped in her chair for a moment, forgetting about Principal Johnson altogether. The fuck was that?
Speaking of which.
“Hey. Charlotte. What the fuck was that?” Nat has to practically jog to catch up with Lottie’s long legs and head start.
She slows her pace for Natalie, looking down at her, eyebrows raised in clear amusement. “What? I just got you out of a class that you hate.”
“You don’t even know which class you got me out of.”
“Does it matter?”
Lottie has her there.
Nat smirks. “Whatever, dude. Why’d you do that?”
She shrugs. “I wanted to see you again.”
“What, following me around in the hallways wasn’t enough for you?”
Lottie looks down at the floor. “You clearly didn’t want me following you around the hallways. I figured you might like me following you around a little more if I was also getting you out of a class. Which one do you think you’ll get out of? I’m not sure yet, either, but my fifth period class is a real drag and I’ve taken basically the same thing at my old school.”
Nat has trig fifth period. The counselor will probably let her take remedial algebra or some shit twelfth grade if she spits out a sob story about her dead dad. “Yeah, fifth period sucks ass.”
Lottie actually laughs at that, the way she did back in the principal’s office when Nat agreed to show her around.
“It really does,” she says, still smiling from the laughing, and Natalie can’t hold back her own smile. She’s not really so bad, this Charlotte Matthews. Maybe Nat underestimated her.
“Well. I should probably get back to class. I’ll see you fifth period?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you fifth period.” Nat presses her lips together to keep from smiling.
Lottie doesn’t do a thing to hold back her magnificent smile, and it takes Nat’s breath away. “Bye, Nat.”
The exchange is stretching out longer than it needs to, Natalie can feel awkwardness seeping into the dingy tile beneath her feet, but she still lets her breath out a moment longer before she speaks. “Bye, Charlotte.”
Lottie walks away, flipping Nat off over her shoulder.
Nat huffs out a laugh. Lottie. She’ll call her Lottie to her face, someday. Just not today.
.
mother effing yellowjackets
5:21 pm
jackie
remember girls we’re all getting food after practice tomorrow for team bonding no excuses!
nat
who is this
lottie
that’s jackie, love
nat
thx
shauna
nat do you not have her number saved??? lmao
jackie
natalie thinks shes SOOOOOO funny
shauna
its a LITTLE funny
nat
yea jackie listen to ur bff
shauna
like. you guys clearly know each other super well your bickering sibling friendship is fucking hilarious
nat
what. no. lies
jackie
yeah shauna ily but thats bs
nat
who said that
jackie
FUCKS SAKE NAT
lottie
dw jackie ill make her apologize tmrw for team bonding
nat
THE HELL YOU WILL
lottie
natalie.
nat
fiiiiiiiine
not until tomorrow
shauna
……………..
van
………………………
Tai
………………………………………..
mari
…
jackie
lol whipped bitch
van
JACKIE NO
nat
I WILL SLIT YOUR FUCKING THROAT TAYLOR
lottie
nat !
nat
and then i will sew it back up again.
van
nice save
lottie
let her live
.
It’s become a sort of protest, somehow. That they don’t know each other, that Nat doesn’t call her Lottie because they aren’t close.
“Hey, Charlotte.”
“It’s a wonderful fifth period, today, Charlotte.”
“Fuck your history homework, Charlotte.”
Only, it kind of backfires. Because, okay. Maybe Lottie isn’t that bad. And maybe she’s a little bit funny, and there’s a miniscule chance that Nat actually finds herself enjoying her company. But she’s committed to the bit now, and Natalie Scatorccio is nothing if not somebody who sees things through. So she can’t back down now. Only, now ‘Charlotte’ is starting to feel like fond teasing instead of annoying teasing.
She says, “Hey, Charlotte,” and somewhere deep down, she thinks, “I missed you, Charlotte.”
She says, “It’s a wonderful fifth period, today, Charlotte,” and she means that “It’s a wonderful fifth period because I’m spending it with you, Charlotte.”
She says, “Fuck your history homework, Charlotte,” and she means, “Fuck your history homework, you should look at me instead, Charlotte.”
Charlotte alone becomes so sacred that Nat fears what will happen on the day that she finally gives in and says the name aloud that she calls the girl with the enchanting brown eyes and fluffy hair in her head all the time. Lottie. It’s what she calls the girl who occupies entirely too much of her thoughts in her head all the time, but she’s terrified to say it out loud. She’s gotten this far without saying it, she’s afraid that if she breaks now she’ll drop down dead. Cause of death? Embarrassment. She can see the headlines now. ‘Teenage punk bisexual deceased from saying femme girls cute nickname aloud’ .
She shivers.
“Nat. Hey, Nat. Natalie.”
Lottie waves her hand in front of Nat’s face.
“Anyone home?”
Heat rushes to her cheeks. “Sorry. What?”
Lottie smirks the way she does whenever she catches Nat zoning out staring at her, which has been annoyingly frequent, lately.
“I was asking if you wanted to come over to mine after practice, but I guess whatever shit you smoked during lunch is more important, I’ll be fine.” She says it with an air of lightness, of jest, but it hits deep all the same.
“I’m sober right now.”
Lottie raises an eyebrow, still smirking at Nat. “Okay.”
“I am. I’m sober, I didn’t smoke anything during lunch. My water bottle’s just water. You can give me your fucking breathalizer test or whatever, I swear I'm fucking sober.”
“Okay.” She must see the desperation in Nat’s eyes, the dull ache begging for just one drag, just one sip. The ache that she has been denying for weeks, fulfilling with another drug instead, one with dark, mesmerizing eyes and thick bangs with a soft spot for mini skirts. Natalie has been gorging herself on Lottie, and honestly? It’s been helping a lot.
“Okay. I believe you, Nat.”
She can feel those brown eyes on her as she looks down, trying to wipe away the tears burning in her eyes as quickly as they come. Stupid. Weak. She shouldn’t be getting worked up over this. Who even cares if Lottie believes her? Natalie sure as hell shouldn’t.
But she isn’t crying anymore because she’s upset. She does care, a whole fucking lot, because she’s crying tears of relief. That somebody, that Lottie believes her.
“Hey. C’mere.” Lotte pulls Nat over for a hug, but they’re sitting in chairs, and Lottie pulls Nat all the way off her chair, so now she’s basically sitting in Lottie’s lap.
If anything, it’s a wonderful method to get her to stop crying.
Lottie holds Natalie close to her chest, rocking her, whispering soothing words until she stops crying. Her lips move Nat’s hair when she speaks.
“Come over to mine after practice?”
Nat nods into Lottie’s chest.
.
mother effing yellowjackets
9:31 pm
mari
quick question. is anyone on varsity NOT queer??
van
welp.
Taissa
Choose your next words carefully.
van
well I am definitely gay asf for tai
Taissa
Good choice.
mari
ew.
anyway
van and tai are gay, lottie’s gay… anyone else?
nat
WHSDLKFJLAKSH HUH
jackie
i am an ally !
shauna
not gay
Taissa
Lol.
nat
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
mari
natalie what
van
shes buffering
give her a minute
Taissa
Nat’s bi, though.
She’s being very obvious, too.
lottie
is she okay??????? how often does this happen????????
van
oh only every once in a while. more lately tho. she’s surprised that you’re gay
lottie
i mean my ig bio is a boygenius quote and my pfp is julien baker i just thought everyone knew
mari
exactly thats how i knew
nat
nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggghhhhhhh
van
that girl does not check her instagram for the life of her
Taissa
To answer the question: Nobody’s straight, that’s for sure.
shauna
um.
Taissa
Yeah, no.
shauna
????
nat
yea give it like a year
lottie
oh thank god
.
Nat isn’t sure what she expected when Lottie scribbled her address onto Nat’s wrist, but she sure wasn’t expecting the street name to be fucking Lawlor. Jackie Taylor wishes she lives on Lawlor, street of the big ass mansions. The mansions bigger than Jackie Taylor’s mansion. And Jackie Taylor’s mansion is fucking huge.
Because yeah, maybe she’s been to a few of the team sleepovers at Jackie’s. They’re not what Natalie would call fun, but they were better than being at home with Dad. She hasn’t gone to one since he died, though, the girls kept looking at her weird. It might have been a stretch to say that they were all friends before, but they were something. Something tangible, people to smile at in the hallways, to form groups with for group projects when the pickings were slim.
They aren’t much of anything anymore, even though Nat still catches Van Palmer watching her in Spanish and Taissa Turner pulls her aside after practice every now and then and stares into Nat’s soul with her big brown eyes and asks if she needs to talk about anything. It’s whatever. Taissa only does it on the days that Nat fucks up their game, anyway, so it’s obvious that she only cares about Natalie when she’s a potential liability.
It works, anyway, because Natalie does not like having Taissa Turner examining her soul and she does not want to be a liability.
There aren’t any sidewalks on Lawlor, and Nat’s afraid that she’ll catch a lawsuit if she touches her ratty converse onto any of the perfectly manicured lawns with the decoratively trimmed bonsais and the fucking fountains and gates, so she walks on the street. One foot on the curb, one on the asphalt, Natalie trudges her way to Lottie’s house.
The house with the numbers on the wall that match the ones scrawled in messy writing on Natalie’s arm does not have a gate, allowing Nat to walk right up the walkway to the door.
It takes an awful lot of nerve to ring the doorbell, and Nat wishes for a moment that she had a cigarette to ease the nerves, but then she thinks of the way Lottie’s eyes lit up when Nat told her earlier that she was sober. Just remembering the light in her eyes keeps her standing on the stoop–although it’s so fancy that calling it a stoop seems inadequate–and her back even straightens.
A woman opens the door. Judging by her clothing and the way she doesn’t give Natalie a dirty look just for standing on the porch, probably someone employed by Lottie’s father. Woah. Obviously the Matthews were rich. They lived on fucking Lawlor, but Nat hadn’t pictured a housekeeper when she thought about Lottie traipsing about that great big house. She makes a mental note to adjust her mental picture of the whole scene later. For now, the woman at the door is tilting her head and squinting at Natalie.
“Hmm. You don’t look like you’re here to sell me Girl Scout cookies. Nor do you look like you’re here to tell me about our lord and savior.”
Nat smirks. “Is Lottie home?”
“I should have known.” The woman opens the door up wider and steps aside, ushering Natalie inside. “Please, come inside. You must be Natalie. Lottie’s been going on and on about you–”
“Marie!” Lottie appears in the doorway behind the employee, panting and pink. She grabs onto Natalie’s hand and pulls her inside. “Nat, this is our Housekeeper, Marie. Marie, this is my friend from school, Natalie.” Nat nods at Marie, who smiles at her. Satisfied with the introductions, Lottie yanks Nat away and whisks her up a staircase before she can fully realize how barren the house is for a place so fancy. At some point, being dragged up the stairs behind Lottie and still getting accustomed to being inside, Nat starts giggling. She can hear Lottie laughing, too, and by the time Lottie’s lead her through hallways and behind what must be the door to her room, they’re both laughing uncontrollably.
Lottie flops down onto her bed, holding her stomach, and Nat slides down the door, landing on the floor, hugging her knees as she laughs. Whenever they calm down they make eye contact, and then they’re set off again, laughing like a pack of hyenas.
Taking deep breaths to calm herself down, Nat looks around Lottie’s room. It’s interesting, but it also seems exactly right. Watching Lottie chuckle on her bed, wiping tears out of her eyes from laughing too hard, she blends in perfectly. She has bookshelves filled with self-analysis how-to’s, tarot instructions, crystal indexes. But there are novels, too, young adult, science fiction, romance, fantasy. Her dresser is covered in various rocks, but she also has a display of little origami swans, and it feels like a perfect blend that all mixes together to form Lottie.
She sits up in her bed, fixing her gaze on Natalie. “I heard you talking from upstairs, you know.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I was watching from the window as you walked up.”
“Alright, creep,” Nat says jokingly. “What’s the big deal?”
Lottie smirks at her. “When you asked if I was home. You didn’t ask for Charlotte. You asked for Lottie.”
Oh.
Heat rushes to Nat’s cheeks. “Whatever. I didn’t know who Marie was, I wasn’t sure if she would know who I was talking about if I said Charlotte.”
“Yeah, right you didn’t.”
“Shut up.” Lottie’s right, and they both know it.
“You’ll call me Lottie to my face someday.” She doesn’t say it like a question. She says it like a command, like she’s absolutely positive that she’ll know Nat long enough for them to know each other that well.
Normally this is when Nat pushes herself away from people, when they start making promises about the future, no matter how vague. The voice in the back of her head is telling her to make an excuse, to stop at the liquor store on the way home.
For the first time, she ignores the voice. She stays in Lottie’s room, goes and sits beside her on the bed when Lottie pats the spot next to her on what must be a king sized mattress. She rolls her eyes but grins when Lottie lays herself across Nat’s lap, feeling herself be acclimated into the environment. She’s becoming one with the origami and crystals, and honestly? It feels pretty fucking good.
Lottie curls herself into Nat and looks up at her, reaching up an arm to tug on Nat’s hair to make her look down.
“Admit it. Admit that you’re going to call me Lottie someday.”
Nat laughs, shoving Lottie’s head. “Whatever, Charlotte.”
Lottie laughs and puts herself right back into Nat’s lap, her smirk widening, even though she doesn’t push it, Nat has a feeling she just gave Lottie some nonverbal ‘yes’ cue that she wasn’t even aware she was sending.
She doesn’t want to give Lottie false hope, but this doesn’t feel false at all.
Natalie has never felt more real.
.
mother effing yellowjackets
11:24 pm
nat
someone tell lottie to fucking get over herself and talk to me
mari
do i smell drama??????
nat
gtfo
van
lottie fucking get over yourself
what happened???
jackie
personally i’m with lottie
nat
i literally could not care less
Taissa
Why should Lottie be getting over herself?
This will affect my opinion.
nat
she’s being a stuck up loser
lottie
I AM BEING REASONABLE
YOU ARE BEING A STUBBORN ASS
van
THERE YOU ARE
what happened!!!!
lottie
natalie has never eaten a fig and she refuses to try my fig jam
nat
your fancy ass gross ass fig jam
van
lmaoooooo
mari
that’s it???????
lottie
figs are not that fancy!!! and they’re really good!!!!
nat
they are fancy as FUCK and do you know how they are made lottie????? hmmm???? bees fucking die in figs for them to grow into fruit!!!!!!!! fucking gross!
lottie
nat that is the best part of eating a fig. i fuckingn hate bees every time i eat a fig it’s like a great big f u to bees. once in kindergarten i got three bee stings in a day
Taissa
Lottie you had me until the part where you encouraged eating bees.
lottie
it’s not really eating a bee!!!! they like. melt or smth idk. but ur not ACTUALLY eating a bee
nat
do the stingers melt???? what if a little bee bone doesn’t melt all the way and gets caught in my throat and i die?!
lottie
natalie bees do not have bones they have exoskeletons
nat
no idea what that means
Taissa
Their bones are on the outside
nat
so they’re like the berries of living animals
Taissa
…… I guess?
mari
HOW ARE BEES BERRIES WTF IS HAPPENING
lottie
it’s like how the seeds are on the outside of berries the bones are on the outside
nat
duh
lottie
eat my fig jam now pls
nat
i would rather die
mari
you guys are really fucking weird
nat
don’t worry i can’t stand you
lottie
actually she has your number saved with your name!!
can’t say that for everyone in here….
jackie
SAVE MY NUMBER GODDAMNIT
NATALIE WE HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER SINCE KINDERGARTEN
nat
who’s that
lottie
that’s jackie :))
jackie
SAVE. IT.
mari
i actually feel kind of special now
nat
don’t.
lottie
you are very special :))
.
Natalie surprises herself with how good her grades are when her final report card for grade eleven comes out. She has a fucking B+ in English. A B fucking +. Mom couldn’t care less, because when Nat holds it in front of her face she’s barely coherent, anyway. Nat doesn’t really care, though. She learned to stop caring about Mom a long time ago. Lottie, however, is a completely different story. She’s ecstatic when Nat shows her, literally picks her up and spins her around in Lottie’s bedroom, nearly shoving Nat’s head up into the drywall. Nat couldn’t care less, she’s too busy enjoying the breeze and the fondness in Lottie’s eyes.
They go out to a diner to celebrate, and Nat orders a hot chocolate with whipped cream, and Lottie teases her about it and her whipped cream mustache, but she reaches across the table and wipes it off Nat's upper lip and then licks it off her finger, and Natalie suddenly forgets all about her report card. She’s just staring at Lottie, at her finger, her lips, tongue, and Lottie’s eyes widen slightly when she looks at Nat, like she’s just realizing what she’s done. Her lips twist into a guilty smile, then Nat laughs, then Lottie laughs, and just like that, the moment is over. The electricity that sparked when Lottie swiped her finger across Nat’s lip evaporates into the thick, bacon-scented diner air as quickly as it came.
Nat sleeps over at Lottie’s that night, because it's summer and she’s almost eighteen and it’s not like Mom notices that she’s gone, anyway. And she tells herself it’s because Lottie’s bed is more comfortable, and she has much softer blankets. There’s also much better company, but Lottie’s ego doesn’t need to be any bigger, not after the graduating seniors from the soccer team let it slip that Coach Martinez was most likely going to make Lottie team captain next year.
Lottie obviously isn’t arrogant about it at all, Nat’s been talking about it more than Lottie has. It’s new for her, this feeling in her chest. Pride. For someone else. Because she is. She’s proud of Lottie. They didn’t really talk last soccer season, but Lottie’s fucking good. Really fucking good. She deserves it, and someone needs to say it, and if Lottie isn’t going to, Natalie’s going to remind her as many times as it takes for her to get it in her head.
“It’s all because of you, you know,” she whispers much later, when the stars are high above and Lottie’s curled up in bed beside her.
Lottie rolls onto her side and looks at Natalie in the dark. “Your report card? That’s bullshit.”
“No, Lot, it’s not. I didn’t give a shit, but you made me give a little bit of a shit. We were fucking efficient in fifth period.”
“No. I didn’t do the work, Nat. You did. I’m so proud of you, but you’re the only one who gets credit for your hard work.”
Nat doesn’t bother arguing any more, although she doesn’t agree. She knows more arguing will only make them both upset. It’s her team captain, she supposes.
Plus, Lottie doesn’t point out that Nat called her not even Lottie but ‘Lot’, a nickname for a nickname, although, knowing Lottie, she definitely noticed. She just knew it would embarrass Natalie, so she let it go.
They’re starting to understand each other in those ways.
Natalie sleeps best on the nights that she sleeps at Lottie’s house.
.
mother effing yellowjackets
2:54 am
jackie
i cannot imagine being natalie scatorccio trying to scroll through this gc the night after a party with the hundreds of incomprehensible texts and all the unsaved numbers 😭😭😭
nat
i actually have everyone saved but you
jackie
WHAT THE FUCK SCATORCCIO
lottie
this does mean she knows it’s you whenever you text bc she has everyone else saved
she just likes getting under your skin
nat
ur really easy to wind up
jackie
SAVE MY NUMBER
nat
no
jackie
AAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
lottie
case in point
van
god i love this soccer team
.
The Monday after tryouts, Nat is not surprised when she sees Lottie’s name at the top of the varsity list, right next to the words ‘Team Captain’. Even Jackie seems at least a little happy, in her sort of pouty, bitchy way (she nudges Lottie on the shoulder and half-smiles at her and says ‘Don’t mess it up, Cap’ while Lottie’s still rushing to get her first glimpse of the schedule).
And everyone congratulates Lottie, even Misty fucking Quigley (whose name is on the roster, for some reason? Below all the players, neatly typed out:’ Misty Quigley; Team Manager’. The girl probably snuck into Coach Martinez’s office and added it herself) cheers and shouts and jumps up and down with more zeal than the situation requires. Nat doesn’t say anything while the entire team rallies around Lottie, just watches with a small smile, a newer one, one that feels different on her face than her usual smile. She’s been doing it since she started hanging out with Lottie, more and more lately.
Nat doesn’t feel upset about being torn away from Lottie as she’s engulfed in the group celebration, because when it ends and they all disperse to start getting ready for practice, Lottie returns to Nat’s side like she’s coming back to her center of gravity after a high jump. And they link hands automatically as they pick lockers next to each other, and Nat whispers, “I’m so proud of you, Lot,” and Lottie smiles, bigger and in a different way than she did for everyone else. Natalie loves when Lottie smiles like that, because she only does it when she looks at Nat.
It makes her feel warm inside, that smile of Lottie’s.
They have a sleepover at Lottie’s house afterwards, because it’s a Friday night and they both know that Nat would rather be with Lottie than be alone, and Lottie pulls Nat aside before she leaves school and tells her that she’s staying the night, not asks her if she wants to, because they also both know that Nat would rather be alone than admit that she would rather be with Lottie.
They shower in stalls that are next to each other in the locker room and whenever Nat catches a glimpse of Lottie’s feet or hands above and below the stall she feels a flutter in her chest that she chalks up to nerves for the first game of the season, even though it’s not for a month.
Nat sits in the passenger seat of Lottie’s fancy ass car, and they drive past Van and Tai walking out of the locker room while they leave. Lottie waves eagerly, so Nat rolls her eyes and waves, too.
“Didn’t take you for a passenger princess, Scatorccio,” Van teases, smirking at Natalie.
Nat flips Van off. “Drive.”
Lottie takes the command to heart, and they burst out of the Wiskayok High School parking lot at a ridiculous speed, Van’s laughter and Taissa’s complaints barely audible in their hasty exit. Lottie looks at Nat in the rearview mirror, and there’s a smile in her eyes, some fondness, some unspoken words, and Natalie feels her own eyes reflecting everything and more right back.
“Passenger princess, huh?”
Natalie flicks her shoulder. “Oh, fuck you.”
Lottie laughs, that beautiful thing that haunts Nat’s dreams.
They greet Marie inside and head up to Lottie’s room. Nat hates Lottie’s house, because it’s disgustingly empty, but she loves Lottie’s room. It’s perfect, and it’s Lottie’s. She tolerates the necessary evil of walking through Lottie’s parents house to get to Lottie’s room.
“I can’t believe he made me team captain,” Lottie says, stretched out on her bed.
Nat braids a strand of Lottie’s hair the way Jackie was trying to teach her at lunch. She leans over, so her face is above Lottie’s. “I can.”
“Piss off.” She rolls her eyes. “You always believe in me.”
“That’s the point, yes.”
Lottie just looks up at her for a long time after that. Long enough that she’s actually starting to get the hang of this braiding thing. Then Lottie sits up abruptly in the middle of a braid, and it’s only now that Nat notices how glossy her eyes are.
“Nat.”
She says it like a question, like a prayer, like a lifeline. Whatever she said next, she could have asked for anything, and Natalie would have complied.
Her eyes hold everything, her lips twitch with everything they could possibly say, and instead of saying everything she says, “Thank you.”
Then she throws herself into Nat, into her soul and into her arms, and jesus Natalie has never been hugged like this before. Like someone’s entire being is in her embrace.
She steps out on a limb and offers her entire being to Lottie, hugging tightly back.
“Not like you wouldn’t do the same for me, right?” she murmurs into Lottie’s ear.
Nat doesn’t need to be thanked, really. She doesn’t need to hear everything else, either. She already knows everything Lottie’s thinking, because she’s thinking it, too.
.
mother effing yellowjackets
9:13 pm
van
everybody who has been personally victimized by nat and lottie making u feel like a third wheel even tho they insist they arent together please speak up im starting a support group
shauna
lmaoo what happened
van
so lottie asked me to go to the carnival with her and nat
shauna
that was a red flag u shoulda seen it thats on u sorry
van
I KNOW but first of all they shared a funnel cake and nat was literally feeding it to lottie
nat
she had whipped cream on her hands what was i supposed to do
jackie
idk maybe get her a napkin
van
oh she did do that too, just after she fed lottie for like five fucking minutes
lottie
the view from the ferris wheel was so cool i think i could see our field
van
you are not allowed to talk about the “view” you were staring at natalie the whole time
guys i need you to be so real right now nothing was platonic about that
shauna
well one time i did a drill with lottie and nat n they bickered like an old married couple the whole time i had no idea what was going on. terrifying. never again
jackie
yeah one time i did a project with lottie for french and nat wasnt even THERE but lottie talked about her so much i felt like i was third wheeling
mari
lmaoooooooooooo
i asked lottie to go with me to the bbq fundraiser for the girls volleyball team and she brought nat without consulting me and then when i spilled bbq sauce on my shirt nat laughed at me then lottie made her apologize and then we left and they stole me a new shirt at tjmaxx i felt like i was third wheeling but i also felt like id been adopted by better parents. so
Taissa
One time I was the last person left in the locker room with Lottie and Nat. We weren’t even hanging out, we were just in the same room. It was nauseating.
nat
mari did u ever talk to that girl on the volleyball team
mari
NATALIE
lottie
NAT
DONT EMBARRASS HER
nat
sorry
but like did u
mari
NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS
lottie
what about the matching shirt that i took from tjmaxx for her did u give it to her yet
mari
leave me aloooooooonneeee
nat
wow
they grow up so fast
van
congrats to lottie and natalie for having their first kid together and now being empty nesters i guess
lottie
its tough but we’re getting through it together
shauna
and now everyone in this gc has been a third wheel personally victimized by lottie and nat
.
Nat could have seen this coming in her sleep, but Lottie turns out to be an excellent team captain. She always knows just what to say, what kind of energy they need, be it tough love, gentle scolding, an angry wake-up call, a team chant. Whatever it is, Lottie can somehow sense the vibe and act accordingly. She can also tell when it isn’t words they need at all, but silence. Sometimes they don’t need words, they just need time to reflect and come to conclusions on their own, and Lottie knows and respects that. Plus, she’s an excellent strategist with a knack for winning coin tosses.
Before she got to know Lottie, Nat didn’t like being on the bench. She was always itching for the field, always feeling her legs twitch whenever one of her teammates made a good play that she wanted to be on the receiving end of, or whenever she would have made a different call if the ball were in her feet.
Since getting to know Lottie, though? Completely different story. It’s not that Natalie doesn’t want to play, she still loves it. Lives for it. That rush, the exhilaration of running, the wind in her hair, ball between her feet. The dopamine rush whenever she dribbles around a defender, successfully passes the ball, not to mention whenever she or her teammates get the ball in the net. But when she’s subbed out, sitting on the bench, chugging water and pouring it over her face, drenched in sweat, she can’t help but be mesmerized by Lottie. She falls into a trance every single time, just watching her hair, her expression, the muscles in her legs rippling when she runs.
Nat can always tell when Lottie’s going to score. Before she even gets the ball, before she shoots it with her foot, or knocks it with her head. There’s just something about her that shifts before she scores, something that travels through the air and wraps around Natalie. She grows still, even if she’s running, something in her very molecules slowing down.
Lottie scores a lot. They’re good like that.
There is something indescribable about their team, the Yellowjackets. She hears whispers of it sometimes in opposing teams, in their coaches and parents. There’s a way that they all blend when the whistle blows, a way that they all become one with the ball. Lottie’s the brain of their grand machine, and, Nat thinks whenever Lottie gets the ball in the net and turns right to her, beams straight at Natalie, runs for her, their collision of an embrace meeting in the middle, something about the feeling of sweat on her body that isn’t hers after these exchanges; there’s a certain way that they look at each other. A certain way that Nat thinks might make her the heart to Lottie’s brain.
And Jackie can clear the ball from their defensive line no matter who had it before, and when she inevitably passes it to Shauna she darts down the field quicker than Natalie can track it. Then Tai’s open, and she boots it to Nat, then Nat makes the final move down the line, either shooting or passing to Lottie. It runs like clockwork. Pieces of the gears are still settling, but its all coming together. Mari, fresh to the varsity team, is still finding her way into her place, but she has clean footwork and she can throw the ball halfway across the field when it goes out of bounds. And, of course, Van is a fucking brick wall in goal.
All of them are incredible. Nat loves watching Lottie play the most, though. Nothing reinvigorates her in the second half of a game more than passing the ball off to Lottie, seeing her incredible stillness, and watching her swiftly kick the ball into the net. Nothing brings a smile to her face quicker than Lottie making a goal and looking to Nat before she looks to anyone else. They’re always the first to hug when they have a huge team hug whenever they win a game, and Nat has never felt so comfortable somewhere and with people in her life.
The soccer season has been going pretty well. They’ve played five games so far, won four, and tied once. The game they tied was zero to zero, the other team was fucking tough.
Nat’s afraid they’re about to lose their streak, though, because the team they’re playing today is aggressive as fuck. Their strikers are pushing Jackie, Mari, and Crystal all over the field, and their defenders are not hesitating to grab onto whatever part of Nat they can to stop her from getting away from them. So far it’s been shirts, arms, and even her hair, which fucking hurt. She can deal with them messing with her. It’s whatever. She’s been messed with her whole life before Lottie, so she knows her limits, and it is nowhere near some petty girls on a fucking soccer team on a random Tuesday in October. What gets her riled up is that they’re not just fucking with Nat, they’re fucking with her team. And not just that, they’re fucking with Lottie. Tripping her, kicking her, pulling at her. Lottie’s taking it like it’s nothing, but she’s getting tired. The ref isn’t making any calls when he needs to be, isn’t giving them the yellow cards they deserve, and all of the Yellowjackets are getting tired of it. Really, they’re not as good as the Yellowjackets. They know it, and they’re getting desperate. And Nat is getting fucking sick of it.
The other team has just gotten a rare shot at Van. Jackie was blocking the girl who had the ball, Crystal was still getting up from being run over, and Mari was practically being held with her hands behind her back. The girl with the ball passed it, and there was nothing Jackie could do. Van blocks the shot, and they all heave a collective sigh of relief. Van kicks the ball to Jackie, starting a familiar pattern. Jackie passes to Shauna, who dribbles up the field. She gets caught up, surrounded three-to-one, but she manages to sneak it out to Laura Lee, who makes the wise decision of passing the ball to Tai. Tai has been a fucking beast, which has made Natalie’s respect for her go up considerably. She has been taking no shit from the other team, even matching them in their dirty plays on occasion. It’s a risk, but it’s been working so far. She’s good, she’s subtle. They kick her, she gets an elbow to their ribs.
Plus, Taissa is intimidating as fuck, and some of the players on the other team back off as soon as they see the murderous look in her eye. But not number 48. She’s been giving all of them shit playing midfield, kicking Nat once she’s already passed the ball to Lottie, pushed Laura Lee so hard she practically did a flip as she fell.
Number 48 rushes right up to Tai, but she passes the ball before they make contact. Surprisingly, she passes to Lottie. Usually when they work the ball up the line this way Tai passes to Natalie, then Nat brings it the rest of the way up and then Lottie gets the ball in the net. But they work the system every which way in practice, and it’s not like they don’t have two strikers. Nat knows what to do. Lottie takes the ball and runs, and now that she does Nat sees that it was a smart move on Tai’s part. The other team has been catching on to their routine, three players are near her, guarding, ready to block a pass, but nobody was right by Lottie. Now they all spread out, rushing to take the ball, and Nat races up the field. If Lottie has the opportunity, she’ll shoot. It’s not selfish, it’s how the game works. It’s what Nat would do if she were in Lottie’s position. What she has done, countless times. The other thing Lottie could do, the other thing Nat has done countless times, is pass the ball.
Lottie, by some miracle, tailed by four players, makes it to the box. There’s a defender between her and the goalie, and one between her and Nat. She passes the ball between her feet, mere seconds to make her choice before it’s too late. Nat can see the gears turning, can see the movements in her feet before Lottie even makes them. She can see the stillness come over her, and she’s certain of what’s to come. She doesn’t have time to question the choice, to read into it beyond her team captain making the decision to take the risk that passing the ball will get it to Natalie and give her a clean shot at goal as opposed to Lottie having to face a defender and the goalie. She doesn’t have time to worry about Lottie’s tendency to doubt herself, to wonder if she would be passing the ball if she were Shauna, if they didn’t know each other the way they do, if they didn’t fit together the way Lottie and Nat do.
She sees the pass coming, prepares herself, can see exactly how she’ll receive the pass and what kind of approach and kick to make to give it her best shot at getting the ball in the net. But the pass never comes to fruition, because number fucking 48 throws Lottie into the grass long after the ball has left her feet. Noticeably after the ball has left her feet. And Lottie hits the ground hard and doesn’t get up.
Nat doesn’t hear the whistle blow, doesn’t even know if it has, but she doesn’t even notice the ball rolling directly in between her feet. She doesn’t even get angry, doesn’t pay any attention to the smirk on 48’s face, to Taissa shouting, running up the field. To Van racing out of goal to hold Tai’s fists away from smashing 48 to a pulp.
All of it pales in comparison to the crumpled girl on the field.
Lottie.
Nat’s at her side before she even realizes that she’s moving, pulling Lottie’s sweat-sticky hair away from her face. Lottie gasps in a breath, trying to roll over and push herself into a sitting position. As she shifts, Nat feels herself grow still at the sight of blood. Gushing from her nose, from cuts on her hands, her face, her arms, her legs. Lottie licks her lips and winces.
“Lottie. Hey. Don’t move, you’re okay.” Nat scoots closer, cradles Lottie into her lap. “Lottie, can you hear me?”
A nod.
“Okay.” Nat lets her breath out. “Okay. Can you see me?”
Another nod.
“Okay. Lottie, who am I?”
Bloody, grass-stained fingers reach for Nat’s face, caressing her cheek. The sight of Lottie’s bloody hand against Nat’s pale skin makes her stomach churn.
“Nat. Natalie.” Lottie smiles as she says it, scraped-up thumb running a finger along Nat’s skin.
“Yeah. It’s me, Lottie. Okay?”
A third nod. A mumbled, “Okay.”
Natalie lets herself nod. “Okay. Jesus, Lottie.” She balls up her jersey and holds it to Lottie’s nose in an attempt to staunch the blood flow.
A hand lands on Natalie’s back.
“Is she okay?”
Jackie .
Nat wipes at her cheek, where she can feel Lottie’s blood drying. “I think so. I mean, I’m not a medical professional, but… she just seems disoriented.
“Okay. Good.” Jackie doesn’t look like she thinks it’s very good. In fact, she looks like she’s going to throw up. “Um… coach?”
Coach Scott and Misty Quigley come into Natalie’s peripheral vision. Exchanging animated glares with the ref, approaching Lottie. Now, looking around, Nat can see that the other players have taken a knee, that Van apparently stopped Taissa from attacking 48, who’s stalking towards the bleachers.
“Natalie.” The weak voice draws her right back to Lottie.
“What’s wrong, Lot?”
Lottie fights Nat’s embrace, pushes herself away to be sitting up on her elbows independently. The distance takes Nat’s jersey away from her nose, and blood starts oozing again. Lottie looks at her, long and hard.
“Don’t ever stop playing before the whistle ever again.”
A shocked laugh bubbles up out of her. She can see the other team looking at each other in shock, confusion. They probably think that Nat’s crazy for laughing at her teammate in such bad shape, but she can’t stop. And when she starts laughing harder, losing her sense of composure, forgetting her worry, her anxiety at seeing Lottie knocked to the ground like a ragdoll, Lottie starts to lose it, too. Laughing, mouth dropping open. Until blood starts to trickle down into her mouth. Then she grimaces and scoots closer to Nat, reaching for her jersey.
“Here.” Nat bunches up a corner that isn’t already saturated with Lottie’s blood, and Lottie holds it up to her nose.
“Use this instead.” Misty Quigley materializes across from Natalie, holding gauze. Lottie reluctantly takes it, holding it to her nose. “And let’s get you up and to the bench.”
“I can keep playing,” Lottie protests.
Misty raises an eyebrow. She and Nat help Lottie to her feet, and the girl sways.
“Yeah, we’re going to the bench.”
Lottie murmurs but doesn’t protest when Nat and Misty take an arm each and walk her to the bench.
“Let’s hear it for number five, Charlotte Matthews,” the announcer declares as Lottie stumbles to the bench. The announcer’s just a volunteer student, Nat’s pretty sure that Jackie’s stupid boyfriend volunteered today, it sounds like his stupid voice over the speakers.
The audience claps, and the other players stand back up. Coach Martinez is yelling, pointing at a sophomore Tai sits with at lunch sometimes–Akilah?–and telling her to get up and play for Lottie.
A shoulder comes into contact with Nat’s. Tai. She’s weirdly happy, grinning and nodding towards the scene of the accident near the other team’s net. Nat stares for a minute, failing to comprehend why Lottie’s blood on the turf is a good thing. Then, she sees it. The spray-painted lines, the box, where Lottie’s blood falls. Inside the box.
“You wanna take it?” Taissa asks, smiling at Natalie conspiratorially.
The penalty kick. Their prize for being fouled in the box around the goal and losing their team captain. Nat fixes her gaze on 48, slumping on the bench on the opposite side of the field. She feels the blood on her jersey soaking into her skin, dripping down her stomach. She smiles, wolfish and dangerous.
“Fuck yes.”
Jackie sort of steps in as captain with Lottie being tested for a concussion, and she can’t say no to Natalie asking to take the penalty kick with the blood on her face and jersey and the crazed look in her eye.
It’s not like a regular kick after a foul, when the players all line up and one of them kicks it back into play. A penalty kick is different. Much more likely to garner a point. In a penalty kick it’s just the goalie and the hopeful scorer on the field. The shot is taken, either made or intercepted, and then the clock stops, the field is reset, and play resumes as normal.
Natalie has done this a million times in practice. Cracked her knuckles, rolled her neck, scanned the field, taken a deep breath, taken the shot and scored. She’s intimately familiar with the look, sound, and feel of the ball hitting the net. But she’s also familiar with failure. With the taste of dirt in her mouth and the smack of the goalie blocking the ball, or it hitting the crossbar.
She shakes her hands, bouncing on her toes to warm up as the goalie pulls on her gloves. She has dark hair and bangs, if Nat squints she could almost be Lottie. But she isn’t. Lottie’s on the bench, bleeding and possibly concussed, all when she wasn’t even in possession of the ball.
Familiar anger curls in her stomach, and, for once, Natalie embraces it. Grabs it and swings it around her head like a lasso. She’s shaking, practically radiating power. She looks back one more time at the bench. Lottie blows her a kiss.
Heart warm, refocused, Nat lines up her shot. Says a little prayer to whoever the fuck, preps, and shoots. The goalie with the bang dives. In the right direction, too, correctly guessing which side of the net Nat was aiming for. But even then, there’s nothing she can do. She dives, and the ball slides above her reach, landing beautifully in the top corner of the net.
Goal.
Holy fuck.
She can hear screams, can see all of her teammates rushing from the sidelines, but she runs right past them. Lottie is ready to greet her, pushing to her feet and with her arms out. Nat picks her up without thinking about it, laughing and swinging her around. Lottie’s a great deal taller than she is, but she manages fine. Lottie laughs, smiling wide. When she’s back on the bench, the rest of the team arrives and they all hug.
The game continues, but it’s no use. 48 got a red card, banning her from play for the remainder of the game, and the morale of the opposing team has been irreparably damaged, while the Yellowjackets has been permanently boosted.
They dominate the field for the rest of the game, passing back and forth, making runs up and down, blocking the opposing teams feeble attempts at plays with ease. They even get another strong run upfield, Tai passing to Nat, who takes a risk and passes to Akilah, who, much to everyone’s shock and delight, fucking scores.
In the end, the score is 2-0, Nat is carried on her teammates shoulders to the locker room, and Lottie doesn’t even have a concussion. Nat drives them home anyway, and even with a bunch of scabbing cuts and tampons poking out of her nose, Lottie looks ethereal in the passenger seat.
“Nat?”
Waiting at a red light, Natalie takes the chance and looks at Lottie expectantly.
“Yeah?”
“Earlier, when I was on the ground. You called me Lottie.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, cause I thought you were fucking dead.”
“Yeah.” She shrugs, even though nothing about her line of questioning is casual. “But you were asking me questions, and I was nodding and you kept calling me Lottie.”
Natalie bristles at Lottie pushing the subject, accelerating as the light turns green. “Yeah, well, you said it yourself, you were on the ground. I was worried, because, in case you haven’t noticed, I fucking care about you, Lottie.”
“You just did it again.”
Fuck.
“Fuck. Whatever, alright? You’re like, my best friend, or whatever. And yeah, when I think about you I do think Lottie, I don’t think Charlotte. You keep this up, I’ll call you dickhead instead.”
She wrinkles her nose. “It doesn’t have the same ring as Lottie.”
A laugh bubbles up out of Nat as she flicks on her turn signal at Lawlor. “No shit.”
She makes the turn at Lawlor, driving past mansion after mansion, until she arrives at the familiar mansion belonging to the Matthews.
Nat helps Lottie walk inside, even though she insists she doesn’t need the help. Marie, fortunately, has already gone when they arrive, as neither of them really feel like explaining their predicament.
Nat has one hand wrapped around Lottie’s waist, her shorter frame making assisting difficult, but she does what she can. She mumbles as they walk up the stairs, about being worried, about how badly Lottie scared her, about how Tai almost destroyed number 48, about how Misty Quigley turned out to be a medical pro, who also offered to do some investigating on number 48. Mostly just nonsense to fill up the quiet. Lottie just absorbs all of the nonsense with a blank expression, wincing whenever she grazes one of her cuts. They have an understanding this way, silence always has to be filled with something, be it music or nonsense babbling about whatever’s on either of their minds. Quiet is not good for either of them.
Today, Natalie is in better shape, so she takes on the job of being the talker. Usually she’s worse off, and Lottie holds her close and tells her about her shopping trip, how the food at the mall was awful, describes the clothes she got, ways she thinks she could spend her father’s money better than he does.
Nonsense. She just talks to fill the quiet, to distract Nat from herself. It always works, and she always winds up enraptured, hanging onto Lottie’s every word as she describes her perilous shopping adventures.
It’s part of the deal that the stuff they talk about isn’t important, it’s just talking and word vomit, the other person is not expected to remember anything mentioned at the time.
Nat spouts nonsense all the way up the stairs and into Lottie’s bathroom, where she sets her companion down on the toilet, lid-down.
Lottie takes her dirty jersey off while Natalie digs in her cabinet for the first aid kit, and when she pulls her head out of the pill bottles and band-aids, the sight takes her breath away. She can’t tell if it’s because she’s looking at Lottie’s sports bra or the large bruise blossoming across her abdomen.
Nat swallows down her anxiety and the strange squirming in her stomach and pulls out the disinfectant. “Ready?”
Lottie grits her teeth, and, for the first time, Natalie has a view of her stomach when she clenches it. She nods, and Nat almost doesn’t notice, she’s so fixated on Lottie’s abs.
“Right. Right, okay.” She tears her eyes away from Lottie’s mid-section and looks back at her face, setting her focus on the biggest gash across her cheek made by a rock in the turf. “This is gonna hurt.” She holds a cotton swab to the lid of the disinfectant and turns it upside down, saturating the cotton swab.
She can hear Lottie holding her breath and hissing as she attempts to gently pat at her blood-encrusted scratch.
“They’re not deep,” Nat says in an attempt to be soothing, still dabbing away blood on the first cut. “There’s just…” she looks down at Lottie’s body, which is littered with small cuts and bruises. “A lot of them.”
“I know,” Lottie says, groaning as Nat hits the center of the wound and it hits deeper. “Ow.”
“Sorry.” Nat lowers herself to get a closer look at the wound, Lottie’s eye that the wound is beneath meeting with Natalie’s. Locked in her gaze, Nat feels frozen. She’s pretty sure she isn’t breathing, she’s just standing half-hunched awkwardly by Lottie’s face and staring into her lovely brown eyes.
Like nothing happened, Lottie breathes out and looks away from Natalie. She can feel Lottie’s breath on her chin, can barely stand to look away from those enchanting eyes. She struggles through the rest of the disinfectant and puts band-aids over each and every cut and scrape, only her dignity keeping her from placing a kiss on each and every one. She isn’t even sure why she’s having a hard time, why being near Lottie without a shirt on feels like she’s been treading water for four hours and she isn’t sure how much longer she can keep her head above water.
So it’s a relief to Lottie and Natalie when she finishes, and Lottie takes a sponge bath and washes her hair, and puts on fresh clothes that, thankfully, include a baggy t-shirt that covers up her abs.
What seemed to be the source of the problem is gone, but it’s like seeing Lottie shirtless was just the domino tipping in a very long stack, because even after the sight is gone and she’s just laying in bed beside her, Nat can still feel something , some foreign twitching low in her stomach. It’s burned into her vision, she sees Lottie whenever she closes her eyes.
“Hey, Nat?”
In the dark, Nat turns to where she knows Lottie is, even without seeing her, even without knowing where she laid down.
“Yeah, Lot?”
Fingers creep along the blankets, touching Nat’s wrist. She redirects them to Lottie’s likely target, and the link hands.
“You’re my best friend, too, you know.”
Natalie’s heart pounds. “I sure hope I am. I have no idea how you’d manage to hang out with someone else more than you hang out with me.”
Lottie laughs, the sound both soothing her and sending her heart on yet another marathon.
“Yeah, no. I’ve never cared about anyone like I care about you.”
Nat squeezes Lottie’s hand. She feels Lottie squeeze back, without hesitation. In the dark, she stares at their linked hands and feels very warm.
“Me neither, Lot.”
Natalie doesn’t sleep that night, not until Lottie falls asleep first, and the dead weight of her hand and the steady in and out of her breath lulls her in.
Unease keeps her awake. She’s a little worried about Lottie, but she’s strong, not so weak that a few scrapes will keep her down. Mostly, she’s worried about herself. What the fuck was that? She doesn’t want to lose the sense of security she has around Lottie. She’s never felt so safe around anyone in her life. She never thought she would find someone that made her feel like that.
She never wants to lose that.
Nat never wants to lose Lottie.
.
mother effing yellowjackets
11:34 pm
mari
hold on.
lottie
miss “music doesn’t have a sexuality” AND miss “my ig bio is a boygenius quote and my pfp is julien baker i thought everyone knew” which is it????
van
DAMN
she kinda got u
lottie
well music doesn’t have a sexuality it isn’t it’s own person. however certain music groups made up of people can have reputations that imply a certain sexuality
shauna
lmao what
nat
no no hear her out i’m following
van
lottie got caught with nat and went ‘play dumb!’ ‘music doesn’t have a sexuality’ ‘not that dumb!’
jackie
it really went like that lmaaooooo
lottie
we did not get caught doing anything wrong!!!!!!!!
mari
nothing wrong, per se, just some gay ass behavior
lottie
well i am gay, so that makes sense
jackie
yeah. GAY FOR NAT
van removed jackie from mother effing yellowjackets
van
timeout
nat
and STAY OUT!!!!