Chapter Text
Once upon a time, after seeing her mother cry herself to sleep, Jackie promised to herself that she would never be like her father. She wouldn’t cheat on her partner, would never sleep around, wouldn’t break other people’s heart just because she had the capacity and opportunity to do it.
She promised herself that she would be successful were her parents had clearly failed; she would fall in love and make it work, she would be honest about it once she felt it and knew it. She wouldn’t play around with it like one plays with a coin found in the street. She would cherish it.
She wouldn’t put her significant other in a hard position, making them create excuses for her, forcing them to justify every little thing.
She would make a home from the broken foundations of her house.
Or at least that’s what she thought before Shauna decided to rip her heart out by sleeping with Jeff.
That was before she realized love wasn’t real, friendship wasn’t real, and there was no point in even trying to sustain relationships with other people. And it would be stupid out of her to pretend otherwise.
She refused to be weak, to one day wake up to look in the mirror and only see her mother in it. She wouldn’t be like her, desperate to justify the actions of somebody else in the name of a twisted conception of love, when it was rather a fear of being alone. She wouldn’t stay in a place where she knew she wasn’t wanted.
If she had to be like one of her parents, to inherit a vision of the world, she decided that she would be like her father. She would make the world her playground and would have fun while doing it. But were her father had a wife and a kid to come home to, a place to crash and burn with his decisions, Jackie would be responsible enough not to have anything; nobody waiting for her to come back home, nobody to disappoint and let down, no one to scar to the point of no return.
The heartbreak of Shauna had been too much to handle. She knew she loved the girl, even if a part of her refused to acknowledge it was in a way more serious than a friendship, that Shauna felt more like her partner than Jeff ever did.
She locked herself in her room to cry her eyes out, waiting for Shauna, praying that she would choose her, that she would come up to the door of her house, of her room, and they would make everything alright, that they would make it work.
She kept praying for something. Anything.
And when nothing but silence came her way, she decided she couldn’t wait anymore. She couldn’t skip school anymore; she couldn’t let her life slip away. So, she went ahead with the only lesson her parents had given her that she could actually implement in the real world; pretend.
She went back like nothing changed, like she didn’t when to bed with shacking hands. She forced herself not to look at Shauna at least it was forced upon her by circumstances. She smiled at people and started idle chatting with anyone, not caring so much about the conversation but rather by the message it sent; she was fine.
When the yearbook came around, she went ahead and wrote little and nonsensical notes in anyone who would handle her their yearbook, she had them prepared from the night before ‘I hope you have a great summer. Don’t let the sun burn you’ Thank you for all the laughter during these four years. Will miss you’ ‘Let’s keep making choices that will change our world. This summer is for remembering it without the need to write it down’. Impersonal, in a way that only a few would notice.
She had just finished writing on the yearbook of some junior she had seen once or twice at the pep rally’s during the school year, wishing them a good summer when Lottie arrived next to her, handing her yearbook to the girl to sign up.
“Can you believe this is it?” Lottie said, looking around curiously, as if she was waiting for something more to happen. “Four years gone. Just like that”
Jackie smiled while writing one of her memorized notes in the girl’s yearbook. “Yeah, I thought I would feel like those characters in movies, but this is really anticlimactic, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I guess that means that what its coming will only better, right?” Lottie tilted her head trying to peek at the writing. “I hope I’m getting a dedication worth crying captain.”
“Can’t promise to make you cry, you know I have never been the best with words” Jackie closed the yearbook and handed it to the girl, not bothering to hand her own yearbook to the brunette.
Before Lottie could respond, Nat slid up beside her, fanning herself with her yearbook. “How long do we need to be here? Attendance isn’t even being taken, I don’t get why I need to be here Lot” she groaned, eyes narrowing at the sun that was fully shining from the main window in the student hall.
Lottie laughed “You are talking as if I’m forcing you to stay here. You know you are free to leave, right Scat?”
Jackie used that opportunity to leave silently, moving through the crowd of students, not bothering to even say goodbye, noticing how both girls had started to banter, not bothering with the world outside their bubble.
She didn’t even bother to read what other people wrote to her; she knew it would be empty. So, she discarded the yearbook once she reached her house, leaving it with the other yearbooks in her father’s studio.
And on the day of her ceremony, she accepted everything with a blinding smile, she smiled so much it hurt her cheeks, but she knew that the pain was needed, a small pain to avoid letting the world seeing the real for of her grief and pain. She took pictures with everyone, accepted flowers from some girls from JV and some of the clubs she had participated in through high school.
She even hugged and posed for a picture with Jeff. And yes, maybe she stepped on his foot a little too hard and whispered in his hear, in the sweetest voice known to mankind “Your life will always be the biggest joke in the universe. Do you know that? You will never amount to anything.”
Jeff blinked at her while breaking the hug, confused. “What?”
“Nothing. I just hope you will get to do great things in life you know?” she answered, raising her voice so it would be heard on the crowd of people watching them.
“That’s so sweet of you Jackie” Jeff’s mother beamed. “Now pose guys, one last picture for the books.”
And once it was all over, her parents had left her once again to go on one of their ‘impromptu’ trips. Excusing themselves with the need of distraction and connection, which in other words meant an opportunity for his father to sleep with girls 10+ years younger than him, while her mother passed out in some spa.
She waited to hear the closing of the driver’s door, the sound of the car motor leaving the street, to finally turn herself off, for once and all. — that part of her that once believed in fairy tales and friendships that lasted forever.
She started digging a box from the back of her closet, a brown box filled with random stickers and doddles from the years passing by. She knew what it was inside; every single memory of Shauna and herself that felt too personal to have in plain sight in her room. A bunch of folded notes, paper and napkins with conversations and doodles of them together. Polaroids of them throughout the years. The first friendship bracelet she exchanged with Shauna.
She wanted it all gone.
So, she dragged it all outside and dumped it into a metal trash bin she had dragged out from the garage to her back garden.
She filled the bin with everything that reminded her of Shauna, the girl’s clothes she still had, the notes and pictures. She was holding a funeral in her mind to the only person who ever truly held her heart.
And yes, maybe she was being dramatic, striking the match and setting fire to the oldest picture of them together, a picture of them at what seemed to be five years old, holding hands in the playground. Maybe it was a bit theatrical, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t contain herself from crossing her arms and watch how her childhood burned to the ground.
She was so distracted by sight of it that she didn’t notice somebody approaching until it was too late. “Jackie, honey? Everything alright?” her neighbor, Mrs. Callahan, an elderly lady who lived with her oldest son, who was never actually around, was standing over the hedge, peering at her nervously.
Jackie forced herself to smile “Yeah. Totally! I’m running a trial for a bonfire”
The woman blinked and asked skeptical. “A trial for a bonfire?”
“Yeah. I thought it would be fun to host one before everyone leaves for college. But I don’t want anyone to get hurt” Jackie gestured vaguely at the fire, and the heat licked to close at her wrist, making her realize she was standing too close to it. “So, a trial!”
Mr. Callahan frowned at her but seemed to be satisfied by the tale she had created. “Well, try not to set the lawn on fire, dear.”
“I won’t” Jackie chirped.
By the time all had finally burned down to ashes, her whole neighborhood was asleep while she trembled from the summer cold of the summer night. She watched the last remnants of her memories with Shauna turn to ash, telling herself this would free her from the love she still carried, even as her shaking hands betrayed her.
And once she was back in her room, not bothering to change her clothes, deciding to go to bed with the smell of smoke clinging to her hair, her throat raw from the heat of the fire and cold of the night, she decided she wouldn’t ever let anyone hurt her like that again.
---
She knew change wasn’t easy, that she couldn’t just decide to be somebody else that it would work out of thin air. But she also knew she wasn’t somebody who just quit because things got thought. Turning a new leaf was never easy, but she was sure she could do it. Because the part of her that was filled with spite, the part that wanted to prove she could rise above the damage and hurt caused by Shauna, was stronger than her fear.
So, she woke up the next day with a new purpose; she would enjoy herself in a way that she had never before. She would have the type of fun that burned everything on its way, leaving nothing behind.
It took her a week to go into action, having mapped her starting plan in a sage green notebook she had bought at an artisan fair downtown. She decided to go to one of her dad’s sisters. It was perfect. Her aunt was too busy with her art exhibitions, and any free time she had, she spent in her studio working on commissions. She was too busy to worry much about Jackie, and her cousins were already halfway through adulthood: graduating, working internships, or busy making plans that didn’t involve family.
Which meant no one would be hovering. No one who would ask where she’d been, who she was with, why she came home smelling of perfume that wasn’t her own.
She played it smart at first.
The first two weeks since her arrival she played the dutiful niece, helping in the studio, setting canvases and taking calls, and sat quietly through family brunches, listening to her cousin’s chatter about job offers and law school applications.
She smiled when it was expected of her, and laughed at the right moments, asked just the right type of questions. All practice, a theatre she was experienced in. She knew they’d drift away soon enough, and she wanted it to look like an accident when she was left alone.
Her aunt worried, of course.
“You’ll be all by yourself once the others scatter,” she said one night over dinner, setting down her wineglass. “I don’t like the idea of you rattling around here with no one. Maybe you should bring a friend for the summer? Someone to go with you to the beach house.”
Jackie speared a piece of roasted vegetables, kept her tone light. “I’ll be fine, Aunt Margory. Honestly, I think it will be good for me. I need to broaden my circle anyway." She added with a careful smile, the kind she knew looked grown-up. " I’ll be at NYU in the fall, remember? It’s time I stop to be to grow up.”
Her aunt studied her for a moment, then nodded. “That’s very mature of you.”
Jackie forced herself to smile brighter.
Her choice of NYU had surprised everyone, she had spent the last year speaking about Rutgers every moment she had the chance, about how excited she was about their sport program and how much she loved the idea to stay close to everyone back home. But nobody seemed to question it too much. Her parents hadn’t fought it, though. Nobody in her family really cared about sports, so they didn’t even blink when she traded Rutgers’ Division I women’s soccer program for NYU’s Division III. To them, it was all just college soccer.
But Jackie knew what she had done, she had walked about from a dream program, from a dream team, from what would have been considered the prudent choice.
Still, she had told herself that it was for the better that she needed a new start. And that joining a team still finding its footing would give her more room to breathe and create a life outside of soccer and university, something she craved.
Or at least, she tried to convince herself of it.
---
The first few days at the beach house were uneventful, filled with lazy swims in the pool and music that rattled the windows, offering a quiet freedom Jackie hadn't felt in a long time.
She swam lazy laps in the pool, wandered through the second-floor halls, blasted music until the speakers rattled the windows. At night, she would drink wine coolers and alcopops in the backyard and would look at the stars while the ocean sang below.
She wasn’t happy, but it was freedom, it was quiet. And Jackie told herself she had earned the small pieces of quiet life sent her way.
It didn’t take long before the first invitation found her.
She was at a convenience store near the beach when a boy who looked about her age, with a very aggressive tan that didn’t seem natural from the sun, fumbled through holding snacks with one hand while trying to take a six-pack with the other. He caught her eye as she reached for a bottle glass of cola.
“You know,” he said, trying a little too hard to sound casual “it tastes way better out of those than a can.”
Jackie raised a brow, amused. “Really? The glass bottles make it too sweet. I think plastic is the best.”
His grin faltered. “What? But plastic makes it flat.”
“I’m kidding, I’m not a monster,” she teased, slipping a bottle into her basket. She laughed in her mind, seeing the boy ears turn a shameful shade of red.
They kept talking for a few minutes, mostly bantering about the importance of drinking from the right bottle, a ridiculous conversation to have between young adults, but she knew boys her age, she knew how to work them like a charm. And by the time she headed for the register, he was blurting out an invitation:
“Hey, a bunch of us are having a bonfire tomorrow night. Uh… you could go, if you want, I mean.”
Jackie tilted her head, letting her eyes run through the boy’s whole body, faking interest in what she was seeing, letting her smile sharpen just enough to be suggestive but not give her away “Maybe I will. But you better make it worth my time.”
He nearly dropped his wallet. “I will.”
She walked out the store after getting the complete information about the party. Congratulating herself on her amazing performance. She knew what the boy wanted from her, and it did not matter, because she had an in, she didn’t need to see him again, she knew the time and place.
Cute, though.
And so, Jackie went.
She decided to wait until the bonfire was in full swing. So, once she arrived the night was already alive with the smoke from the fire and whatever people were smoking, the pounding of someone’s portable speaker and the laughter of a sea of strangers. The advantage of arriving late was that she was able to slip right in without questioning, she could enjoy herself in the sea of strangers without anyone asking who she was supposed to be, who had invited her.
And for the first time, in what felt like months, Jackie felt the spark of something that almost felt like happiness.
She mingled like it was nothing. She started conversations out od thin air, sliding into groups as she had always been there, greeting people when she knocked onto them by accident. And as the night went by, she didn’t really need to keep initiating the interactions. People started to come to her on their own volition. Girls complimented her hair or her summer dress, guys made lazy jokes about what she was drinking.
At some point, every interaction blurred into one big interaction that meant nothing at all, failing to spark her interest or motivate her to pursue anything further.
As she was about to give up, telling herself that this was just one night, and that there was no need to go all the way right away; she was her.
Across the firelight stood a girl.
She had long dark hair, that caught the light of the fire when she tossed her head back laughing with a smile that seemed to break open her whole face. Jackie could feel the sharpness of her eyes even across the fire, even when they weren’t directed at her.
But what called Jackie was the girl’s laugh, how it carried over the sound of the waves crashing down, a bright and unapologetic sound that cut through the night. Jackie’s chest tightened, not in pain, but in recognition: that’s the one.
They locked eyes and Jackie didn’t look away.
A small smile with a subtle tilt of her head. The signal was clear, as tale old as time. She’d seen the game played a million times with guys and refused to believe it was any different with girls.
If the girl was interested, she was sure she would get it. And if she didn’t, Jackie would simply move on.
And before she noticed, the girl had crossed the sand like it was nothing and was standing beside her, grinning at her while pointing at her cup “Looks like you need a refill.”
Jackie laughed, surprised. “I guess I do. I’m Jackie.”
The girl grinned even harder, her sage green earrings catching the firelight. “Dani.”
They walked side by side towards the coolers far away from the firepit, weaving past the cluster of people pressed together dancing and chatting all around the fire. Different types of noises coming from all places, someone strummed a guitar off to the side; others were shouting over each other in a sort of argument; a girl was discussing with the guy who owned the speaker about ‘playing real music’. The air smelled like smoke and saltwater, and when the wind shifted, Jackie could taste the ash of the wood of the bonfire all the way to her throat.
At the coolers, bottles clinked as people passed them around without caring who’d brought what, some had been passed so much that the coldness of the melting ice of the cooler and the friction of the hands had taken of the label of some of the drinks.
Jackie knew, in some corner of her mind, that it was reckless, that she didn’t know a single person here. But she didn’t care.
They chatted idly about the start of summer, about who was at the bonfire, with Dani pointing at different people and telling Jackie dumb stories about them. But Jackie wasn’t listening to the words so much as the rhythm of the conversation, so she leaned in at the right times and laughed loudly on purpose, directing the other girl’s attention to her mouth repeatedly.
The kiss happened because Jackie leaned in first, not caring about waiting anymore. She wanted to know what it felt like to take something just because she could. She moved like she’d been planning it all night, like she’d been waiting for this exact second.
Their lips met, all messy and teeth. Jackie could only concentrate on the taste of warm beer and something sweet — probably the lingering taste of chewing gum— from the girl’s mouth. Dani’s lipstick smearing into Jackie’s gloss.
She felt the girl laugh into the kiss, tugging Jackie closer, like she was the most interesting and exciting thing in that whole party. In answer, Jackie let her hands linger where they shouldn’t, feeling something burn inside of her, feeling like the fire was crackling from her chest outwards and not the other way around.
And just like that, Jackie decided to spend the rest of the night with the girl.
They kissed until their lips were sore, fingernails filled with sand from where they would rest their hands between kisses. She toyed with the other girl’s necklace between her index and thumb while she listened the girl talk about her plans for the summer, about her classes in university – it turns the girl was going into her sophomore year of graphic design and was really excited about it.
She asked question between drinks and kisses. And redirected the conversation whenever it seemed like it would turn back to herself, in a way that seemed unintentional. She laughed at the girl’s jokes and charmed her enough to get her to give up her jacket when Jackie expressed that she was getting cold from the sea air.
But when she expressed that she was tired and it was better if she went back to her place, she gave her unknowingly the sign that she needed to end it all. The girl had asked Jackie for her number, saying something about how they could go to an arcade close to the beach together. And Jackie already knew the ending of the tale.
“Can I get your number?” Dani asked, hesitant but hopeful while toying with one of the rings in her own hand, as if trying to coax herself into calmness. “There is this really cool arcade close to town, maybe we could go and hang there. I think you would like it…”
Jackie shook her head, stepping away from the girl slowly with a practiced ease. “I’m not carrying my phone tonight. Sorry” She slipped out of the jacket and pressed it back into Dani’s hands like a parting gift. “See you around.”
She kissed Dani’s cheek goodbye and turned toward the dunes, her pulse buzzing, ears ringing with the echoes of the music and the fire.
Her chest didn’t ache. Her throat didn’t burn. She wasn’t thinking about Shauna or Jeff, or about how her whole world had cracked in half. For the first time in weeks, Jackie wasn’t thinking about anything at all