Chapter Text
Yeah, that’s what I always
Loved the most about you
You’re so strong
Come and knock me down
September 3rd, 2017 (Tobin: 29, Alex: 28)
Alex walks through the dark wooden French doors of the venue, ducking away from the ceiling vents as cool air blows down. A banner hangs overhead, Happy 20th Birthday Aquila! painted in block white letters, and she cranes her neck to read the name of her old TV show in its familiar loopy font. Sounds bounce around the high ceiling of the ballroom: the absent chitchat of the occupants, the resounding bass line of a 90s pop song, the clink of glasses, and the scrape of chairs against the floor, all combining into a cacophonous static in her ears. Turning, Alex wrinkles her nose at the mixture of many varied perfumes and colognes floating about.
It’s one of those events that you have to be a little drunk for, she decides. Before she has a chance to grab a glass though, she’s spotted.
Sydney rushes to her, one arm slung heavy and excited around Alex’s neck, and Megan is similarly determined to make Alex forget about personal space, lips on her cheek and hands firm against her midriff. Not too far away comes a boom of laughter and strong arms secure themselves around all three women, lifting them slightly off the floor as they squeal.
“Abby!”
Alex’s smile splits wider as her feet touch solid ground again. More and more of her old cast mates spill in, chattering away like not a day has passed.
///
Tobin arrives about half an hour late—by her standards, which means she’s really an hour late—when the photographers hired for the occasion have already abandoned the entrance, and for the most part she enters unnoticed. In her leather jacket and skinny jeans, Tobin looks less like an attendee and more like an employee. Keeping her head down, she walks past the gossiping waiters and into the kitchen, stepping into the swirling steam and pleasant aromas.
Through the circular window on the door leading to the main area, Tobin spots a flash of brown hair and the breath is knocked out of her. Logically, she knows it could have been anyone, but the possibility that it was Alex…
Pivoting, Tobin heads back into the decadent lobby. In a twist of cruelty, she actually finds Alex there, sandwiched between Heather and an obviously tipsy Christie. Alex’s dress hugs her body, the black contrasting with her vivid red lipstick perfectly, and leaves several strips of skin exposed, just enough to taunt. She’s always been the epitome of beauty, but tonight, Tobin can’t bear to keep looking.
It’s been, what, a year, maybe two since their last conversation. There’s something different about Alex now, something that Tobin can’t quite put a finger on. Her hair is shorter or a little lighter in color. It hurts to think about any change, so Tobin doesn’t. In typical form, she retreats instead.
As Tobin ducks away, hand absently rubbing at the back of her head, she bumps straight into Lauren.
“Watch it, Tobs,” Lauren jokes, pushing at her shoulder.
“I try and try but you’re always in my way,” Tobin says, forcing an instant change in mood.
Tobin wraps Lauren in a tight hug, a small grin on her face.
“How’re Jrue and the kids?” Tobin asks once they’ve separated.
Lauren makes a face and waves it off dismissively. “What about you, still homeless and wandering the world?”
Tobin turns back for a glimpse of Alex and regrets it.
“Something like that.”
July 23rd, 2004 (Tobin: 16, Alex: 15)
Tobin usually spends her summers skateboarding with friends and hiking with her family, but this year her agent insists that she join the rest of her cast mates in San Diego for Comic-Con. Generously, Alex’s parents offer Tobin housing for the two-day event, so she runs out of excuses to dodge the publicity.
As the newest regulars, Alex and Kelley are paired together for the less important interviews, but Lauren, Amy, and Tobin are signed up for a special New Kids Q&A panel. Tobin had expected more free time that weekend—to wander the convention grounds with a few cast mates, maybe hang out with some fans—having heard from Amy that she and Lauren had just been expected to show up for the cast signing session last year. And okay, she’s here to work, but still —the nickname coined by Aaron, the show’s PR manager, technically doesn’t even apply to the trio anymore given the newer regulars last season, so she didn’t expect to have any actual responsibilities.
She manages her time poorly and almost misses her introduction at the panel, and at some point gets caught mid-chew with half-eaten granola bar in hand when a fan question is directed at her. This is to their showrunner’s displeasure, and as punishment Pia makes her field the end of the day interviewers with Kelley and Alex while Lauren and Amy join the other cast members in meeting fans.
At the interview, Tobin sits with her knees falling open and crosses her ankles, doing her best to pay attention to the scruffy man asking them questions.
“So your show, Aquila, is coming up on its seventh season now?”
“Eighth, I think,” Tobin says.
“Eighth,” Alex confirms.
“Really?” Kelley asks, leaning forward. “Because 2004 minus 1997 is seven.”
“No, you… you count 1997 as one,” Alex says.
“What?”
“Like you have to count 1997 as a year too.”
Kelley exchanges a look with Tobin, but Tobin’s just as confused.
“Count up with your fingers,” Alex tells her patiently. “Start with ‘97.”
“’97, ’98, ’99, ’00, ’01, ’02, ’03…” Kelley trails off. “Oh.”
“Stay in school kids,” Tobin says and faces the camera, grinning cheekily.
Kelley reaches over Alex to slap Tobin’s shoulder. “You were just as lost as I was!”
“But I knew we were going into the eighth season, so I feel like I’m still ahead.”
“Looks like you guys have a good rapport outside of the show too,” the interviewer comments with a smile.
“Yeah,” Tobin confirms, shrugging away from Kelley’s reaching hands. “We all spend a lot of time together even when we’re not filming. Like for events.”
“And in our downtime too,” Alex says.
“Yeah, definitely.”
“I’m pretty sure I saw these losers more than I saw my parents last year.” Kelley laughs.
“And you guys do schooling on set, right? There was a picture, I think, of one of your cast mates working hard over a biology textbook.”
“Bue,” all three of them chime.
“Some of us just work harder than others,” Kelley says. And then pointedly, “Tobin.”
Tobin shrugs, unbothered.
“Do any of you feel like you kind of missed out on having a normal life though, like high school drama or school dances? Stuff like that.”
“Well I think all of us can do without the drama,” Kelley says, looking at her co-stars for confirmation.
“Right,” Alex agrees. “And we dance on set a lot actually.”
“Yeah, Kelley thinks she has moves,” Tobin mocks.
“I do. The Sprinkler is my go to.” Kelley demonstrates for their amusement.
Once the laughter dies down, the interviewer presses on. “So what can we expect in this upcoming season?”
“Uhhh… drama,” Tobin says.
“Yep. Lots of it.”
“There’s some fun stuff too. I don’t know if we can talk about it,” Kelley says. “Don’t want to get into trouble with the higher ups.”
“Again,” Tobin mutters, ignoring the playful glare Kelley shoots her way.
“Well, we all definitely get more screen time. And we get to hang out with like Syd and Abby and Carli,” Alex says.
“It’s basically just a grand old time,” Kelley says.
Tobin chuckles and says a little sarcastically, “Grand… grand old time. Yeah, that’s season eight.”
The interviewer checks his watch and gestures. “Well, thank you ladies, it was a pleasure to interview all three of you. I hope to see you guys next year too!”
“We’ll definitely look forward to it,” Alex says, smiling winningly at him.
The cameraman nods, and he and the interviewer head on to the next table. Without the scrutiny of the camera, the three girls are able to relax.
“How much longer till dinner?” Kelley asks, shoulders slumping, exaggeratedly holding her stomach.
“It’s like four now,” Tobin says, “so maybe a couple hours.”
“Oh man,” Kelley says, suddenly alert, “I gotta go find Barnie, we have that giveaway thing.”
As Kelley scampers off, Tobin stands too, tugging at Alex’s sleeve.
“Come on, we should get to the autographs booth or Pia will yell,” Tobin says. Again, she almost adds.
“Careful, Heath,” Alex teases as she follows, “or someone might mistake you for a responsible individual.”
Their elbows bump affectionately the entire walk to the other side of the conference center.
///
Having Tobin Heath over is apparently a big deal. Alex’s parents fuss over every detail in every room: the table cloth needs to drape just so and the curtains are drawn too tight or not tight enough. This is how Alex knows that her parents don’t have the slightest inkling of what Tobin is really like. As long as Tobin’s got a roof over her head, she’s golden.
Still, her parents’ anxieties are palpable when Tobin finally arrives, giving off such vibes that Tobin herself seems a little nervous walking in as well. Though her mother offers up Jeri’s old room, Tobin insists on the couch. Alex has never met anyone more stubborn than her mother, so she expects Tobin to acquiesce after a minute or two. But Tobin turns on the charm with a lopsided smile, and for the first time in Alex’s life, her mother is the one to back down.
After an uneventful dinner, Alex and Tobin stay up to watch Finding Nemo. Alex burrows her feet under Tobin’s legs, and it’s well past midnight when they’re done. Alex tosses Tobin a pillow and a blanket before heading off to bed with a mumbled, “Night.”
Tired after a long day of interviews and promotional appearances, Alex falls into bed gratefully and sleeps soundly until—
“... you awake?”
Alex groans, squinting at Tobin’s dark shape hovering near the foot of her bed. Stretching her neck, Alex looks for the liquid green digits of her alarm clock. 3:21AM.
“Alex?”
“What?”
“Your, uh, dog really likes me… which is fine but he keeps licking my feet. Won’t leave me alone,” Tobin whispers.
Alex scoffs and rolls onto her side. “Just sleep here then.”
“You sure?”
Alex mumbles something back, too exhausted for anything coherent. Before she falls into her slumber again, she feels her mattress dip with Tobin’s weight and her body heat against Alex’s back.
///
Alex Morgan is a sleep cuddler, Tobin discovers.
When the birds chirping outside wake Tobin up in the morning, she’s on her back in Alex’s bed. Her arm is numb, and Alex’s cheek rests against her right shoulder. She thinks Alex might also have an arm flung across her stomach under the covers, but Tobin can’t be sure. It’s not the most comfortable position in the world, but she’s strangely content staying like that.
Tobin’s eyes trace down the straight line of Alex’s nose down to her slightly parted lips. A stray strand of light brown hair tumbles down into Alex’s face, over her closed eyes. Immediately, Tobin moves her free hand up to brush it away.
Alex stirs, eyelashes fluttering as she rouses. It takes a few seconds before she is awake enough to take stock of her surroundings.
“Hey,” Alex mutters into Tobin’s oversized t-shirt, burrowing her nose into the material. Her voice is gravelly with sleep, and Tobin smiles reflexively.
“Hey,” Tobin echoes lamely.
Alex moves to untangle herself from Tobin, and belatedly, Tobin realizes they’re a lot closer to the edge of the bed than she thought. Next thing she knows, they’re slipping and slipping, and they fall off with a thump.
Though her bones and muscles protest upon impact, Tobin is surprised into a laugh. Alex laughs too, hands fisted in Tobin’s shirt, straddling her lap. The light pours in from the window, bathing them in warmth, haloing in Alex’s hair gloriously.
Tobin sits up, entranced.
Every fiber of Tobin’s being is painfully aware of Alex’s presence and touch in that moment. And it’s a revelation, all too much at once.
The smile slides off Tobin’s face, replaced with something akin to wonder.
“Girls! Breakfast!”—cuts through the moment.
Turning, Alex calls back. “Coming!” She stands, offering a hand to Tobin. “You okay?”
Still staring, Tobin nods dumbly.
November 15th, 2006 (Tobin: 18, Alex: 17)
The season finale involves a big formal dance, requiring the whole cast to be on set. Alex has her first ever heavy and emotional scene in it. Abby and Ashlyn are constantly by her side during the day of filming, lending her words of advice and support.
As Jill, the director, speaks with the cameramen, Alex prepares herself, channeling her anger and getting in character. Sydney, her partner for the scene, avoids Alex so as to not interfere with either of their states of mind.
Then they’re rolling and Alex puts every ounce of rage that she can behind her words. Sydney shoves her twice, and Alex loses her footing. They restart the scene and Sydney pushes at her again. Alex pushes back and they grapple while arguing, faces red and veins popping.
By the time Jill is satisfied with the footage, Alex’s throat is raw and her biceps ache from where Sydney had a firm grip on her.
“That’s a wrap for season ten,” Jill declares with a nod and a decisive clap. “Good job, girls.”
The crew breaks into applause and cheers of relief, filing about to pack everything up.
Alex and Sydney turn to each other and immediately burst into tears, rushing to hug each other.
“Are you okay?” Sydney asks between hiccups.
“Yeah,” Alex says, chuckling wetly.
Abby bowls into them, nearly knocking them over, and envelops both of them into a tight embrace.
“You two were amazing,” Abby says, grinning from ear to ear, “fucking amazing!”
As they separate, two scrawny arms wrap around Alex’s midsection from behind.
“Hey,” Tobin says.
“Hey.” Alex wipes away the last of her tears and rests her hands on Tobin’s.
Tobin continues to hug her and whispers in her ear. “Dude, you were great.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, if it was up to me, you’d get an Emmy nom.”
“Just a nomination?” Alex asks as if offended.
“All the accolades.” Tobin amends.
The emotional fallout of the scene finally leaves Alex’s system, and she is stable again. She relaxes the muscles in her shoulders and takes a long breath.
When Alex glances over to see Sydney and Abby still talking, Sydney fixes Alex with a pointed look and raised eyebrow. Alex promptly extracts herself from Tobin without knowing why and blushes.
Unwilling to let the set go to waste, the season wrap up party takes place the next evening in the hall where they filmed the final few scenes. Lavender streamers hang from the muted accent lights against the walls and similarly colored balloons surround a raised stage in the formation of a semi-circle. Lauren picks the music, acting as the impromptu DJ, and reads the mood of the cast like a pro, choosing a blend of classic favorites and some newer experimental picks.
Becky and Hope sit at the bar, eating snacks and sharing watered-down drinks. Abby is on the dance floor, moving in what she thinks passes as dancing as a few of the other cast members look on, laughing and copying her.
Alex sits on the edge of the front stage, nursing an iced tea, happy to just watch her friends for the time being. Across the room she spies Tobin and Amy chatting absently and picking at their food. This is one of those rare occasions where Tobin is in a dress, a long shimmery silver number, and Alex maybe stares a little. Tobin looks up and catches Alex’s eye before Alex turns her head, feigning that she had been in the middle of a cursory glance around the room.
When she lets her eyes wander back in Tobin’s direction, Alex sees Dom Dwyer, Sydney’s onscreen boyfriend (and offscreen, as of last week), talking to Tobin and offering her his hand. The corners of Tobin’s eyes crinkle with amusement and she accepts, letting him lead her to the dance floor.
It’s a confusing spectacle, but Alex doesn’t have time to dwell on it as Sydney steps in front of her, cutting off her line of sight.
“Hey Alex, let’s dance,” Sydney demands, gesturing with her head.
“I’m kind of tired, Syd,” Alex says. “Probably just going to sit for awhile.”
“Alex.” Sydney’s voice is slow and measured. “Dance with me.”
“I’m… okay right here.”
“Alex,” Sydney hisses as she grabs Alex’s hand, “I made my pretty ass boyfriend ask Tobin to dance. Tobin! Patently gay Tobin! Do you understand what’s going on here?”
“Not really,” Alex says, brow furrowing.
“So pretty, so dumb,” Sydney bemoans. “Just a few songs, come on.”
“Fine,” Alex huffs, partly because she knows Sydney is relentless and partly because she’s curious as to what Sydney and Dom are scheming.
Sydney leads her, and they dance their way through two songs before Sydney herds Alex towards Tobin and Dom.
“Tobin, I’d like my boyfriend back,” Sydney says, poking her tongue out teasingly. “Let’s switch.”
Catching on now, Alex opens her mouth to object, but Sydney tightens her hold on Alex’s wrist warningly.
Tobin laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, sure. I’m done for tonight anyway.”
“And you’d leave Alex partnerless?” Sydney challenges.
“Uh...” Tobin looks at Alex uncertainly.
Alex desperately wants the floor to crack open and swallow her whole so that she doesn’t have to experience this situation a moment longer.
“Oh my God,” Sydney says, exasperated, “dance!”
With that, she pushes Alex into Tobin and drags Dom away. Alex stumbles and grabs onto Tobin’s bare shoulder as Tobin catches her around the waist.
“She’s a woman on a mission,” Tobin notes as Alex straightens.
“Apparently.”
Alex forces herself to stop fidgeting. It’s only Tobin, she reminds herself.
The music switches to a new song with a starkly different tone, slow and rhythmic guitar chords as opposed to the upbeat hip hop songs from before. Alex recognizes the song as Lifehouse’s You and Me.
“Looks like more people were in on it,” Tobin comments, narrowing her eyes at Lauren who waves innocently.
“I guess we should give them what they want,” Alex suggests, riding off of Sydney’s confidence. Might as well, now that they’re here.
Tobin raises an eyebrow questioningly.
Alex gently pries at Tobin’s stiff arms until they’re draped over Alex’s shoulders and places her hands at Tobin’s waist, the fabric of the dress smooth under her palms. Typically Alex is only an inch taller but tonight she’s in heels and Tobin’s not, so Alex has a good few inches on her.
Scowling, Tobin sways under Alex’s direction. “Last time you made me lead,” she argues.
“Last time was when we were twelve,” Alex reminds her, “and we’re literally moving from side to side right now. No one’s leading.”
“Put your arms around my neck.”
“But I’m taller.”
“Only ‘cause you’re cheating with those heels.”
“I’m taller either way,” Alex points out with a smirk.
Dom and Sydney have circled back near them, slow dancing as well. Sydney shakes her head. “Stop bickering. This is supposed to be romantic.”
“Maybe that’s their version of romance,” Dom quips.
Tobin redirects her scowl to the backs of the retreating couple, and Alex similarly casts her disdain their way. Sydney is as subtle as a giant gorilla rampaging about downtown, and Alex feels the beginnings of panic in her chest again. It doesn’t look good, like Alex was too much of a coward to make a move and asked Sydney to do this.
When Tobin turns back, Alex’s breath catches in her throat. Recognizing the tension Alex holds in her shoulders, something in Tobin’s face seems to soften, and she steps a little closer into their shared space, moving her arms to encircle Alex’s neck more properly.
“You’re just as bossy as you were when we were thirteen,” Tobin teases, nudging Alex lightly with her arm. Her grin is so easy, so relaxed that Alex reflexively reciprocates and hopes it doesn’t come off looking more like a grimace.
“I wanted to get it right,” Alex defends, her eyes glued to Tobin’s bare shoulder where her hand had been placed the last time they did this.
Tobin’s seemingly uncanny ability for noticing the subtle changes in her moods makes Alex feel transparent, naked. It’s something that she usually loves about their friendship, but tonight it only highlights Alex’s vulnerabilities.
“Yeah, in case Steve asked you to dance,” Tobin says with a playful roll of her eyes, recalling Alex’s first on-set crush, a guest star whose eyes Alex once thought were ‘oh so dreamy’ to which Tobin had shrugged ‘eh, I guess, if you’re into that floppy haired JTT look’.
“Well, Steve’s not here,” Alex mumbles. A flush creeps up her neck as her fingers play with the loose material around Tobin’s waist. Alex is both relieved and grateful that Tobin is doing what she does best, keeping the mood light.
Another part of Alex, however, wants this moment to be real, to be special. She dips her chin into Tobin’s shoulder, hoping to cut off whatever retort Tobin probably already has at the tip of her tongue. There’s a sharp intake of breath next to her ear, but neither of them acknowledge it.
“He’s not,” Tobin agrees after a while, and Alex burrows her face deeper, taking comfort in the familiar scent she breathes in as they continue swaying into the next song.
December 25th, 2008 (Tobin: 20, Alex: 19)
Tobin arrives at Pia’s place about a half hour after the party has started. It’s only the second time she’s ever been, and the exterior looks completely transformed for the winter holidays. Multi-color lights line the roof and outside paneling in dotted greens, reds, and whites. Reindeer and elf decorations litter the lawn generously, and Tobin weaves her way between them to reach the front door.
After a long reverberating ring, Megan answers the door in the ugliest Christmas sweater Tobin has ever seen and greets her with an one-armed hug. Tobin steps into the foyer and swivels, taking it all in. Pia has coated the walls with green and gold glitter and hung wreaths in the center of every door. A majestic pine stands in between the two staircases leading upwards to the second floor, decked out in swag, guarding a huge swath of immaculately wrapped presents.
“Damn, she goes all out,” Tobin says, awed.
Megan laughs and guides her to the living room where the other guests have gathered. Casually, Tobin slides in next to Kelley, shoulder bumping hers as she mentally amends her previous statement about the Christmas sweater (Kelley’s is somehow far worse).
“You think I can get Hope under the mistletoe with me?” Kelley asks, leaning into her.
Tobin laughs. “Yeah, and also a punch to the face.”
“Christmas miracle, come on.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“You have a miracle in mind for yourself, Toby?”
“I’ll take whatever God throws my way,” Tobin says, “but hopefully it’ll be the end of the name ‘Toby.’”
“What’s being thrown your way?” Amy asks as she hands Tobin a beer.
“Some game would be nice,” Kelley says, winking as she shoots Tobin a pair of finger guns.
Tobin pops the cap off the bottle using the ring on her middle finger. “I have plenty of game.”
“So why aren’t you and Alex dating then?”
Mid-sip, Tobin chokes and splutters.
“See? No game,” Kelley says with a triumphant grin. “Am I right, ARod?”
Amy holds her hands up. “So not getting involved,” she says, hopping off the couch.
Tobin glares, wiping at her nose and mouth with a napkin.
“It’s your last chance,” Kelley reminds her unnecessarily, “before we all move in different directions.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tobin mumbles.
“You’re hopeless.”
Tobin knows she’s right. But the affection that Tobin has for Alex feels endlessly complex, like love in its infancy, like fear magnified a hundred times, like an attachment that can’t be shaken off. If there are even words to express that, Tobin doesn’t know them. And so what she and Alex have now seems close enough. (It has to be.)
Kelley watches her closely, maybe too closely, so Tobin musters up a smirk and a joke. “No, you’re Hope-less.”
That gets Kelley off the topic with a sputtering protest.
///
The realization that Pia’s Christmas party will be the last time that they’re all together hits Alex full force.
Even with New Year’s Eve—her favorite holiday—just around the corner, her heart is heavy this time around. The show couldn’t last forever, she’d understood that from day one, but now that the end is actually upon her, Alex is distraught. It’s all she’s known for the past seven years, and she needs at least seven more years with the people who have become her best friends and mentors.
Still, she keeps her head up, keeps a grin on her face.
She sings a verse or two of Santa Baby with Sydney that has Ashlyn and Julie in stitches. Then Pia and Abby pull her into a conversation about TV movies. Alex flits from group to group, so unwilling to let any of this go.
“Hey,” Tobin greets when Alex comes around to the living room.
Tobin’s in dark sweatpants and a striped tank, as casual as can be, so quintessentially herself. It strikes Alex then that she doesn’t know when she’ll see Tobin again. Tobin’s parents live on the East Coast, and Tobin has a dream to travel and see the world. It’s a frightening thought that she and Tobin might just drift apart, might just let life get in the way. Alex doesn’t know what to do with this new fear.
“Hey,” Alex says back, hugging Tobin tightly. Then she lifts Tobin slightly off the floor and swings her around twice before setting her down.
Tobin beams at her. “What was that for?”
“Because I’m going to miss you, dummy.”
“Why?” Tobin asks teasingly.
“You know why,” Alex says faintly.
“Come on.” Tobin clasps Alex’s hand and her eyes soften. Just for Alex. “It’s not goodbye yet.”
///
When the festivities have died down and everyone is stuffed from an extravagant dinner, Tobin knows it’s time to say their goodbyes. The amount of tears and laughter is about equal, and Tobin finds herself wiping at her eyes every few seconds. The promises they all make about keeping in touch might very well be broken in a few years time, but for tonight, Tobin believes every single word.
“Merry Christmas, Tobin,” Alex says, cornering her before she leaves.
Alex hands Tobin a thin rectangular box encased in simple white paper.
“What is this?” Tobin asks.
“A present,” Alex replies with the raise of an eyebrow. “Friends sometimes give them to each other.”
Tobin chuckles and makes to unwrap it, but Alex reaches out and stills her fingers.
“Later,” Alex says quietly. Then she presses her lips to the corner of Tobin’s mouth sweetly.
(And Tobin’s heart wants to burst with the entirety of this moment.)
“Okay,” Tobin says.
“Okay.” Alex smiles.
That’s when Tobin knows for sure that this is far from a goodbye.
(Tobin waits until she’s at the airport to open Alex’s gift, popping the lid hesitantly. Inside is a single charm silver chain bracelet engraved with an eagle taking flight, the logo of Aquila Academy, the fictional school on their show. It takes Tobin four tries to hook it around her wrist. She lifts her arm, observing the way it hangs perfectly, and misses Alex a little already.)
December 19th, 2009 (Tobin: 21, Alex: 20)
“All done with finals then? ” Ashlyn’s voice filters over a bit muffled.
“Mhm,” Alex replies, switching her phone to her other hand. “Just packing now.”
For a few seconds, all Alex can hear is the rustling of plastic bags in the background. “ Sorry, I’m packing too. ”
“You going somewhere?”
“I’m moving in with Ali. I thought I told you, ” Ashlyn says distractedly. “I’ve just been crazy busy, what with updating my address everywhere and shopping for some new furniture and—”
“Ash.” Alex chuckles, endeared by her friend’s behavior. “It’s no problem at all. I totally understand.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of a big step I guess.”
“It is,” Alex says. “How’re you feeling about it? Like really feeling?”
Ashlyn doesn’t answer right away, but Alex can envision that not-quite dopey smile that Ashlyn dons every time she talks about her future with her girlfriend. “Honestly, I’m not even nervous. I know exactly where I wanna be and where I’m going. Knowing Ali will be with me every step of the way is all I need. ”
Chest tightening, Alex swallows her envy and tries to focus on Ashlyn’s happiness and confidence.
“Enough about me. You going home for break?”
“No. Tobin invited me to Spain.”
“Spain? She living there? That’s swanky. ”
“She’s just there for two months. Filming.”
“So you two keep in touch then. ”
International rates made texting difficult, and the frequent changing difference in time zones as Tobin traveled certainly didn’t help with communication either. Alex was just able to find one matching instance in their shared schedules to Skype during her Spring semester. Seeing Tobin’s pixelated face on her laptop screen had only made the distance between them more frustrating, more evident.
Still, Alex answers, “Sometimes.”
“You excited?”
Excited? Not exactly.
A year away from Tobin was one of the hardest things Alex ever endured. Every little thing would remind Alex of Tobin, and inevitably she would want to tell Tobin each detail down to the insignificant and incoherent. More than once Alex would twist in her seat, mouth open, to find empty space, and sink in disappointment. Missing Tobin was an unfamiliar and unwelcome feeling, unbroken by any amount of socialization with other friends.
No, excited isn’t right at all. Cautiously hopeful, maybe. Apprehensive, definitely.
“Alex? ”
Alex bites her lip, wistful for what Ashlyn and Ali have. Their certainty and safety.
“Yeah,” Alex says finally. “I really… It’ll be good to see her.”
When Alex arrives at Madrid-Barajas Airport approximately fifteen hours later, her palms are sweaty despite the slight chill in the air. She shoulders her duffel bag and tugs on her suitcase, heading to customs. She makes some small talk with the customs officer who compliments her on her Spanish. Then she’s past the baggage claim and on her way to the arrival lobby.
Alex clenches the handle of her suitcase tightly. It’s ridiculous to be nervous, and yet.
The doors slide open and Alex scans the crowd, unreasonably afraid that she won’t recognize Tobin though it’s only been a year. With each passing second, Alex’s heart beats faster, and the people’s faces blur together. Maybe the plane got in too early, maybe Tobin’s late, maybe this is somehow the wrong airport, maybe—
“Alex! Alex Morgan!”
Alex pivots towards the call and catches sight of a familiar smile, so unrestrained and beautiful.
Then she drops into a run, flying across the waiting room and, tossing aside her luggage, jumps into Tobin’s open, awaiting embrace. Alex wraps her legs around a slender waist and locks her wrists behind Tobin’s head. A grin, as big and wild as Tobin’s, spreads across Alex’s face.
“Hey,” Tobin says simply, holding her, and Alex should've known that no amount of time, no amount of distance could take Tobin away from her. Not truly.
“Hey,” Alex says as Tobin sets her down carefully.
Fingers still digging into Tobin’s shoulder, Alex stares and stares. Tobin’s skin is darker, tanned from her days under the sun all year long, but the twinkle in her eyes, the curve of her lips, the edge of her jawline are all exactly as Alex remembered. If Alex hadn’t just spent a difficult year away from Tobin and the rest of the cast of Aquila, she could swear that no time had passed.
“Did you miss me?” Tobin asks playfully.
Alex slugs Tobin across the shoulder and gathers up her belongings, embarrassedly strewn about on the floor.
“So only everyday?” Tobin grins.
“If you weren’t so bad at replying to emails, I wouldn’t have to miss you at all,” Alex says as she follows Tobin out. Honestly, Alex thought she’d be more bitter about it, but in the presence of Tobin any trace of that emotion gives way to something softer, something forgiving.
“I’m working on that,” Tobin says, flagging down the first taxi.
“Catch me up on your life,” Alex says as the driver takes her bags, and the two of them slide into the backseat comfortably.
“Uh I tried a semester at Rutgers,” Tobin says, “but college life was not for me.”
Alex cocks her head and feels a twinge low in her gut of surprise (and maybe something else too).
“Rutgers, really? I’m not sure I can see you in a classroom.”
“Yeah, well, neither could my professors.”
Alex laughs as Tobin grins lopsidedly. In their time apart, there were instances when Alex had to struggle a little to picture Tobin’s smile just right. Now, faced with the real thing, Alex’s memory pales in comparison, and yet she still wants to memorize the slant of Tobin’s mouth for when they are separated again. (And though Alex is loathe to remind herself of it, that time will come faster than she expects.)
The taxi driver asks them their destination, and Alex watches amusedly as Tobin uses some remarkably broken Spanish phrases to direct him to a hotel.
“Okay so no to college, what then?” Alex asks once Tobin’s done, eager to know everything about her again.
“Remember Alyssa? She helped us with choreography like season nine or something.”
“I remember,” Alex says patiently—or as patient as Alex Morgan gets.
“She said she saw some of Kelley’s YouTube vids with me doing some flips and stuff.”
Narrowing her eyes, Alex asks, “Your really, really dangerous and stupid flips?”
“Yeah, those.”
“I’m going to hate where you’re going with this,” Alex predicts with a sigh.
“Probably. Anyway, she said that the movie she was working on was short a stunt double. Needed to have acting experience, be 5’6” ish, have brown hair, and lanky limbs. I think my limbs are pretty normal but—”
Alex runs a hand over Tobin’s arm. “Eh, lanky.”
“Don’t be rude.” Tobin jostles Alex’s knee with hers. “Anyway, long story short I think I’m a stuntwoman?”
Alex rolls her eyes, “I knew I wouldn’t like the story.”
“Hey, I’m a pretty good one,” Tobin defends.
“I’m so sure,” Alex says, this time softer.
A stuntwoman. Tobin could pick up an entire new career without Alex’s knowledge—what else is she missing out on? The twinge from before returns and this time Alex recognizes it as a quiet wistfulness, wondering at the distance between them.
From the corner of her eye, Alex sees Tobin tilting her head to the side, observing or trying to read Alex as effortlessly as she used to.
Tobin settles on changing the subject and asks, “What about you, acing all your classes?”
Exhaling hard through her nose, Alex allows the distraction to be a relief. “I only got a B+ in Classical Theories of Political Economy. I’m pretty sure it’s ‘cause my GSI hated me.”
“How tragic,” Tobin drawls. Just like that the situation is full of levity again. “You’ve truly disappointed me, Morgan.”
Alex elbows Tobin in the gut, and Tobin clutches at her stomach, feigning a mortal wound.
Tobin’s joking tone doesn’t fix anything but the way her fingers brush carelessly over Alex’s knuckles are healing anyway. And for that, Alex can muster up a smile.
///
It turns out Alex likes doing touristy things like watching the Flamenco dancers and touring the Alhambra. Tobin humors her for a few days before she accidentally loses Alex’s itinerary and drags her down to Barcelona. They crash with Tobin’s friend—some dude who introduces himself as ‘Che, like Jay, only… not’ and whose last name Tobin doesn’t even know but ‘seemed chill’ from the one time they went surfing together—sharing a long sofa that forces them to sleep wrapped tightly around one another. Though Alex calls Tobin’s lifestyle anarchy, she seems to enjoy it or at least the change of pace it presents.
During the day, Alex insists on trying new foods and catching some local concerts. In exchange, Tobin chooses their evening activities. It’s not the season for swimming so they just walk along the moderately populated beaches, sand cool beneath their bare feet. One night Tobin tackles Alex into the chilly waters of the Balearic Sea and, after a bit of competitive splashing, that’s the end of their nightly walks. (And the next night Tobin and Alex fall off the tiny ass couch just as the sun is rising, so that’s the end of their Barcelona detour as well.)
They take the train back to Madrid and laze about for a few days before Alex is motivated to go sight seeing again. During one of their outings, Tobin mistakenly orders a plate of just cheese for lunch which Alex mischievously doesn’t correct. In retribution, when Alex takes (what Tobin deems as) too long snapping pictures of the Plaza Mayor, Tobin surprises her from behind and initiates a tickling war until they’re both doubled over, gasping and breathless from laughter.
(Tobin can’t remember the last time she was this happy.)
When they get bored of wandering around, Alex leads the way to a bar and Tobin follows, intrigued. It’s fairly crowded considering it’s only 7PM, but they manage to squeeze into an empty booth anyway.
“Trying to get in with Spain’s drinking age laws?” Tobin asks, yelling over the loud live music and surrounding chatter.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Alex shouts back, grinning impishly.
Alex takes the chance to show off her Spanish and orders a tinto de verano for herself and a regular draft beer for Tobin.
“Look at you,” Tobin says admiringly, “like you fit in with the locals.”
“I’m gonna wash my hands real quick,” Alex says.
“Alright,” Tobin says. “I’m gonna be tweeting something cryptic so PR doesn’t have me fired.”
Not even a minute after Alex has left someone else slides into her spot.
“Uh hey,” Tobin says and manages a confused smile.
“Oh,” the stranger, a woman, says. She’s probably in her mid twenties, long and wavy black hair like a mane, and big doe eyes. In a word, she’s gorgeous. She laughs, one hand covering her mouth, embarrassed. Then she says some stuff in what Tobin presumes is Spanish, and it goes completely over Tobin’s head.
“Uh, no hablo español,” Tobin says immediately. That and ‘where is the bathroom’ are the only phrases she’s got under her belt. “Sorry.”
The woman smiles. “I do not speak English,” she responds in a heavy accent.
Getting the sense that the only true verbal communication they can have is saying that they don’t speak each other’s languages, Tobin matches her sheepish laugh. Out of the corner of her eye, Tobin catches sight of Alex returning.
“My friend,” Tobin explains, pointing towards Alex, “it’s her seat,” and gestures at the other side of the booth.
The woman nods like she completely understands and stands, allowing Alex to slide back in.
“Mixed up seats,” Tobin says to Alex.
“Estás tan buena que te comería con ropa y todo,” the woman says lowly as she brushes past Tobin’s shoulder. “Adiós desconocida.”
Alex’s eyes widen briefly before narrowing to an expression Tobin’s never seen on her face before. Tobin struggles to read Alex’s mood. Anger maybe?
“What’d she say?” Tobin asks.
“Goodbye stranger,” Alex says, determinedly avoiding eye contact with her.
“Seems like a lot of words for that,” Tobin comments.
If possible, Alex becomes even more sulky after that. She answers in monosyllables and grunts, forcing Tobin to carry the conversation by herself. Every so often Alex’s hand will drift to cover Tobin’s, so at least she knows Alex isn’t angry with her.
After they finish their drinks, they begin to head out of the bar and make the walk back to their hotel. As they’re exiting, the woman from before catches Tobin’s eye and winks at her. Tobin waves politely.
“She should keep both eyes open so she doesn’t sit in the wrong seat again,” Alex grumbles, quiet enough that Tobin only barely catches it.
It finally clicks in Tobin’s head.
Alex’s sullenness, her wordless glares, the woman’s wink at Tobin. In all the time that they’ve known each other, Tobin has seen Alex uncomfortable, protective, carefree, dejected, grumpy, and much more. Tobin assumed that she’d seen every facet that Alex could offer, but tonight has proven her wrong. Tonight Alex is jealous, a restrained insecurity that is clearly eating away at her.
Words have never been Tobin’s forte, and she doesn’t know how to make this better.
She shoves her hands into her pockets, mulling over what she should do, and the walk back is spent in silence.
///
“I’m going to jump in the shower,” Alex says as soon as they reach their hotel room.
Tobin nods absently and flops down onto the bed, quickly messing up the pristinely folded sheets.
The distance between them has never felt larger, Alex thinks and struggles to blink away tears at the thought.
As the hot water beats down on Alex’s bare back, soothing away her aches and pains, she lets her riotous emotions swirl into the drain as well. She hadn’t meant to let her pettiness get in the way of a nice evening. But when that random woman at the bar had blatantly flirted with Tobin…
Alex finally admits to herself something she’s felt for years but never had the chance to put into concrete thoughts and words.
Alex is Tobin’s, in whatever way a person can be another’s.
Curling her hand into a fist, Alex resists the urge to hit the tiled wall and wills herself to accept the truth.
Once Alex is finished, she dresses in a loose white tank top and a pair of old shorts and towels off her wet hair. When she emerges from the bathroom, she finds Tobin standing by the window, looking out contemplatively.
“You wanna shower too?” Alex asks.
Tobin nods. As she approaches, Alex moves to get out of her way, but Tobin reaches out, clasping Alex’s hand and pulling her closer. Then, Tobin’s thumb brushes Alex’s chin. Without any hesitation or urgency, Tobin leans in and kisses Alex. It’s simple and nonchalant, as if they’ve done this every single day of their life and will continue to do so.
Just as quickly, Tobin pulls away and closes the bathroom door behind her. Shocked, Alex brings her fingers to her lips. She wonders if she imagined it, if she had wanted it so badly that it had manifested in her mind. Questions spiral around in her head, and she struggles to keep her breathing even.
The twenty minutes Tobin takes in the shower are agonizingly long. At first Alex wants to ask why, wants Tobin to explain herself, but by the time Tobin emerges, hair stringy and dark, Alex no longer wants words.
Alex strides forward and grabs Tobin by the back of her neck, pulling her in almost violently. Their mouths clash together and Tobin’s teeth click painfully against hers, bringing tears to Alex’s eyes. Then Alex shifts slightly and they fit against each other easily, like their bodies had known for years that this was going to happen. Tobin groans and folds her arms around Alex, hands sliding up Alex’s back, mapping out every shifting muscle and hard jut of bone. Alex pours everything forward, every ounce of want, of will, of hurt, and Tobin accepts it all.
This is real. Alex is certain of it.
The desperation that had clawed at Alex’s chest fades, giving way to tranquility, and she’s balanced for the first time. She breaks the kiss and rests her forehead against Tobin’s damp one.
“You looked like you wanted to kiss me,” Tobin says softly, breath fanning against Alex’s face.
“I did,” Alex says, voice scratchier than usual. “I do.”
And that’s all there is to say really.
///
The root of jealousy, Tobin’s mother had once said, is insecurity. No amount of reassuring words could soothe that irrational beast, only actions, specifically disproving actions, would accomplish it. Tobin hadn’t understood as a child, but with Alex’s darkened expression and sagging posture, it made sense. Only in the moment right before the kiss did Tobin know which disproving action was fitting.
And now it’s not something that needs to be discussed. Tobin is still Tobin, and Alex will never be anyone but Alex. When they hold hands, swinging their arms, as they walk down Madrid’s main streets, Tobin briefly mourns all the years that she’d been too afraid to make a move. But at night when Alex draws Tobin into her arms and they kiss lazily for what feels like hours, Tobin knows that they’ve arrived at this moment precisely when they were meant to.
There have been other women in Tobin’s life, whether for a night or a month, and those relationships were easily defined, easily struck up, easily ended. Her previous experiences were about having a good time, but with Alex it’s always been camaraderie and love, the kind that only ever keeps expanding. There is no label or name that Tobin is willing to put on them. Not yet.
(Maybe if Tobin was a braver woman...)
But whatever this friendship has evolved into, well, it’s Tobin’s, Alex’s too, and that’s all she knows for sure.
On Alex’s last night in Spain, she clings to Tobin in their shared bed and every so often peppers light pecks on Tobin’s face. There’s an apparent anxiety in Alex’s movements, and Tobin tries to center them both with whispered assurances.
“I got a job offer,” Alex says eventually. She sits up and Tobin matches her.
“Yeah?”
“Yep.”
It’s not like Alex to be cryptic like this.
“What is it?” Tobin asks.
“One of my professors is a linguistics consultant for some studio,” Alex says and bites her lip. “She had us do some voice acting for extra credit last semester. The studio offered me a minor role on one of their kids’ shows.”
“Voice acting?”
“Yeah, I guess it’s kind of lame,” Alex says with an air of indifference, but Tobin can sense it’s not genuine. This is something that Alex wants, even if she’s not fully committed yet.
“I dunno.” Tobin shrugs with an air of nonchalance. “Your voice is pretty sexy. I can see why the studios would want you.”
Alex pinches Tobin’s thigh without any real conviction, such that Tobin knows her response was the right one. “I was being serious.”
“So was I,” Tobin says and laughs as she bats Alex’s hand away. “Al, do you wanna do it?”
“The job? Maybe.” The way Alex casts her eyes downwards gives her away, and Tobin searches within herself for the right words of encouragement.
“And what about voice acting?”
“I don’t know.” Alex hugs her knees closer to her body.
Tobin’s not sure yet what to say. Follow your dreams, and other such platitudes seem meaningless between two people as close as they are. After a pause, all she can offer is a distraction. “We can talk about something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like the movie I’m going to be working with HAO on.”
Alex plays along, dropping her worry for now. “What movie?”
“Oh well it’s all very hush hush right now,” Tobin says. Her joking tone elicits a small smile from Alex.
“Well,” Alex draws the word out, “I’m sure I can think of a way to get you to tell me.”
Tobin doesn’t resist when Alex tackles her off the bed and to the carpeted floor. Alex always wins in the end anyway.
///
It feels as if Alex arrived in Madrid just yesterday and now she’s leaving already. Alex packs in silence and slides into the back of the taxi with Tobin without a word. The ride to the airport is spent similarly.
The familiar heartache of missing Tobin has already returned and even Tobin’s hand in hers does not assuage it. Standing before the security checkpoint, Alex’s grip tightens around Tobin’s arm.
“We’re pretty early,” Tobin says. “You don’t have to go in yet.”
“I’m really bad at saying goodbye,” Alex says.
Tobin presses her lips to Alex’s cheek. “Did I ever tell you about the philosophy class I took?”
“Philosophy? You?” Alex asks with a chuckle.
“Yeah, it was pretty bad,” Tobin admits. “But the professor was chill. He shared his joints with me a couple times.”
Any other time Alex would’ve rolled her eyes, but instead she wonders what Tobin’s getting at.
“We were pretty high this one time and he told me something. Maybe it was because it was good weed but I thought it was really profound,” Tobin says. “He was talking about leaps of faith and the origin of it. The phrase is from some dead guy, Kierkegaard, I think. Anyway, this dude said faith is never about evidence. We shouldn’t try to prove the existence of God with like reason. Faith is irrational, it demands risk.”
“Okay…”
“I think faith is what ties us all. It’s in trust, in friendship, in love, in God,” Tobin says. “You know?”
“Is this like… stoner advice? What’s going on?”
Tobin laughs good-naturedly and says, “Yeah, it is. I just meant, all the risks I’ve ever taken have gotten me here.” She places her hands on Alex’s waist. “Here, with you. So I have faith in us and our choices. Take that job, Alex. Get into voice acting. And say goodbye to me. It won’t be easy, but I’m confident that we’ll be led right back together.”
Somehow it’s exactly what Alex needs to hear in this moment. The corners of Alex’s lips lift and she hugs Tobin. There’s a lot of ambivalence in her life, but Tobin’s arms secure around her act as an anchor, and Alex knows she can face the unknown ahead of them.